The Prince's Texas Bride / The Reluctant Princess. Leanne Banks

beaches and the palace and palace grounds do.”

      The man lifted his eyebrow. “Easy for you to say. You make a much better salary than most of the citizens of Chantaine. The prince’s horses aren’t remotely self-sustaining.”

      “It wouldn’t be hard for them to be self-sustaining,” she couldn’t keep from saying in defense of the stable.

      “What do you mean?”

      “Black. He’s worth a fortune as a sire,” she said, then feared she’d revealed too much. He didn’t look like a member of the press and she didn’t see a camera. “I need to go. I was taught to earn my keep,” she added meaningfully, and then walked away.

      Much later that evening after she’d showered and put on her pj’s, her cell phone sounded, signaling a text message. She glanced up from the book she was reading and glanced at her phone. Meet me in the lower courtyard in thirty minutes. SD

      Eve was torn between irritation and curiosity. The man was way too accustomed to giving orders. In other circumstances, she would have laughed and said forget it. But this was Stefan and the situation was totally different. Plus she was dying of curiosity.

      She jumped out of bed and changed into a pair of jeans and a white button-down shirt. With her hair still damp from the shower she’d taken earlier, she just decided to let it air-dry. After a few moments of feeling antsy, she gave in to her restlessness and decided to take the long way to the lower courtyard. She stopped by a bush of blue flowers that reminded her of Texas bluebells and felt a twist of homesickness. Back home, she’d stayed busy with her job, working with the horses on the ranch where her aunt worked and volunteering. Staying busy kept her from thinking too much about how much she missed her brother since he’d left all those years ago. It also kept her from getting involved in a serious relationship. From a young age, Eve had been determined to steer her own ship, and she’d never met a man with whom she’d willingly share the wheel.

      She heard the snap of a twig, but before she could turn around she heard his voice.

      “Congratulations, Eve. Well done.”

      Pleasure welled up inside her and she turned around to find Stefan, his shirt partly unbuttoned, his hair mussed and carrying a bottle of champagne and two glasses. Surprised by his gesture, she felt a secret rush of delight. “Congratulations to you, too. The crowd loved it when you gave Ricardo a ride on Black. Champagne?”

      He shrugged. “You worked hard. I thought you deserved to celebrate.”

      “You could have just sent the bottle to my apartment, couldn’t you?” she asked, unable to resist the chance to tease him.

      He shot her a look with a glint of the devil in his eyes. “Okay, I deserve to celebrate, too. Come on,” he said and walked toward the lower courtyard. They entered the area surrounded by tall hedges and he gestured toward the stone bench. “Hold these, please,” he said and handed her the glasses.

      “Wow,” she said.

      “What?” he asked as he released the cork without spilling a drop. He tilted the liquid into the two glasses.

      “You said please. I don’t hear that word from you all that often,” she said and offered him a glass.

      “Are you always this charming when someone tries to thank you?”

      “You knew what you were getting when you hired me,” she said and lifted her glass in salute. “Congratulations on choosing such spectacular horses for your stable and for giving a little boy and his parents the story of their lives.”

      “Congratulations for pulling it all together,” he said and clicked his glass against hers.

      They both took a sip of the champagne. “I must confess I was worried about the combination of the protestors and your royal cavalry.”

      He smothered a chuckle. “Royal guard.”

      “Close enough,” she said and took another sip. “Have you been busy with interviews with the press?”

      “And a cocktail party with the riders. I told my assistant to make sure you were invited.”

      She shook her head. “I thought it would be better for me to make sure the real stars were taken care of after the show.”

      “Of course,” he said. “Next time, remember you have staff for that.”

      “No one refuses the prince?” she said. “Except for his family.”

      “Are you saying you don’t want to attend a party at the palace as a guest?”

      She opened her mouth, then closed it. “It’s a little out of my everyday routine,” she confessed.

      “I can’t believe you would be intimidated. I haven’t seen anything else intimidate you,” he said.

      “When I was eight years old, my brother told me to never let them see me sweat.”

      “That’s pretty young for that kind of instruction. What was the occasion?” he asked.

      Another move due to her parents’ inability to keep jobs and pay bills. Another new school when she’d wondered how long they would stay in this place. How long until people found out her father drank away most of his paycheck? “One of those times in elementary school when the kids teased or bullied. It happens to most kids at one time or another.”

      He looked at her for a long moment and frowned. “I don’t like the idea of that.”

      “What?” she asked, his intent gaze making her stomach slip and slide.

      “The idea of someone bullying you.”

      Something in the way he looked at her made her feel as if she were taking a free fall with no net. She tried to shake it off, but wasn’t completely successful. She wasn’t accustomed to someone being protective of her. “It didn’t happen often,” she drawled.

      He chuckled. “I bet it didn’t,” he said and chucked her chin with his index finger. “Do you see him often? Your brother?”

      His question slid under her radar, right through her ribs. She rarely mentioned her brother because his absence from her life was still painful to her. “Eli left a long time ago. He had to go. It was the only way.” She took a quick breath and shook her head, hating the fact that Stefan had found her vulnerable spot. “Can we talk about something else?”

      He paused a half beat, then nodded. “Of course. We’re here to celebrate,” he said with his most charming smile and clicked his glass against hers again.

      She took a quick sip but spilled the champagne on the front of her shirt as she pulled the glass away. Frustration prickled through her. “This is why I don’t drink very often,” she muttered, futilely pulling at her shirt.

      “I can see where it would be distracting during a date,” Stefan said.

      Glancing up, she saw his gaze fixed on her breasts. She looked down and was mortified by the outline of her nipples against the shirt. “Oh, great. This is embarrassing,” she said and crossed her arms over her breasts. “See why I’m not big on formal parties? Even a private celebration in the seclusion of a faraway courtyard is not safe.”

      Stefan took her glass and tossed it onto the soft bed of grass along with his, then took her chin in his fingers. “Trust me, Eve. If a man chooses to be with you in a courtyard, he’s not thinking of safety,” he said and lowered his mouth to hers.

      Her heart stuttered in her chest. In another lifetime, she wondered if she could have turned him away. She’d turned so many others away. But she sensed that Stefan was strong enough. Man enough. She paused a heartbeat, then opened her mouth, opened herself to him.

      Something between them clicked and snapped at the same time. If she believed in that kind of thing, she would have said it was electrical. But Eve didn’t believe. At least, she never had before.