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

such horrid company that you won’t join me even when you have nothing else to do?”

      Eve sighed, still full of conflicting emotions. “Okay, okay. Thank you for inviting me.”

      “That’s the spirit,” Bridget said. “Ta-ta for now.”

      Although she would far prefer a barbecue place where she could wear jeans and a T-shirt, she couldn’t fight the urge to get out. She took another quick shower and pulled on a black halter dress. Instead of putting up her hair, she blow-dried and fluffed it. Since she had time, she applied a little makeup, mascara, a little bronzer, lip gloss …

      Her cell phone rang. She glanced at it, hoping desperately that it was Stefan. But it wasn’t. She picked it up. “Hello. Eve Jackson,” she said.

      “This is Raoul, Princess Bridget’s chauffeur,” the man said.

      Her heart twisting in disappointment, she took a deep breath. “Thank you. I’ll be right down.” Grabbing a sweater, she took the stairs down to the limo.

      Raoul stepped outside. “Ms. Jackson?” he said as he opened the door to the backseat.

      “Thank you,” she said and climbed into the limo.

      “Welcome,” Bridget said, smiling as she held two glasses of champagne, one in each hand. “Girls’ night.”

      Eve remembered last night and the champagne she’d shared with Stefan. She slid into the seat and closed her mind to the memory. She accepted the glass extended to her and clicked hers to Bridget’s. “Girls’ night,” she agreed, determined to forget her rotten meeting with Franz Cyncad and the fact that Stefan was clearly displeased with her.

      They went to a restaurant in a swanky section of the capital of Chantaine. Eve felt self-conscious at first because they were seated in the center of the restaurant, but Bridget chatted constantly, distracting her. The princess was clearly happy to be away from the palace.

      “Do you want to get married?” Eve asked, after Bridget had stared at a hot guy who passed by them.

      Bridget shrugged. “Not too early,” she said. “There’s danger in marrying too young, and I’m determined to avoid it. No kids until I’m thirty years old. I want to have some fun. What about you?”

      “I haven’t thought much about marriage. I’ve always thought I would take care of myself. Safer, that way,” she said.

      “Hmm,” Bridget said. “I could find a man who would take care of me. I just don’t want to give up what little freedom I have in exchange for that.”

      “Same here,” Eve said and lifted her water glass in salute to Bridget. She’d switched to water awhile back.

      “I’m not ready for the night to end,” Bridget said. “I know of a club close by.”

      “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Eve said.

      Bridget pouted. “Why not?”

      “I’m not much on clubs,” Eve said.

      Bridget shook her head. “It will be a good change for you. We’ll just stay for a few minutes.”

      “I’m not sure—”

      “Oh, for goodness’ sake,” Bridget said. “It’s just one night and trust me, our clubs are nothing compared to Rome or Milan.”

      “Never been to clubs in Rome or Milan. Don’t really need to go,” Eve muttered, but felt as if she were being swept forward by a force of nature. Tonight she would ride it. Tomorrow she would return to her boring self.

      Forty-five minutes later, she found herself sitting at the bar while Bridget danced with a friend of a friend of a friend on a crowded dance floor. Her bodyguard, Rodney, stood nearby, shifting from one foot to the other, clearly as uncomfortable with the scene as she was. Because Eve was bored out of her mind, she decided to torture herself and checked her cell for messages. So far, there’d been none. She shouldn’t be surprised, she supposed.

      She glanced at the phone and saw one missed call from Stefan. Her heart jumped, skipping several beats. Suddenly a text appeared. Where are you?

      With Bridget, she texted back.

      Why? Never mind.

      Eve frowned. What did that mean? She shook her head. This was insane. She’d never gone crazy for any other man. Why should she start now? Stuffing her phone into her purse, she was determined not to give him another thought. At least, not tonight.

      The woman was going to drive him insane, Stefan thought as his chauffeur and two of his security detail drove closer to the bar where his sister and Eve were apparently enjoying Chantaine’s nightlife. He ground his teeth at the thought of it.

      “I’m sure Rodney’s had enough of this unplanned excursion,” Stefan said. He’d seen this coming with Bridget. He’d just hoped she grown more mature about accepting her duties and security protocol. “If Princess Bridget protests, escort Ms. Jackson to my limousine.”

      “If she goes calmly, sir?” Georg asked.

      “In that unlikely event,” Stefan said drily, “Ms. Jackson can ride with the princess.”

      Four minutes and forty-five seconds later, his sister burst through the door with the assistance of two security men, screaming at the top of her lungs. Eve walked behind them. “You can’t do this. It’s my night off. I can do what I want. I could have ditched Rodney, but I didn’t. Just wait until I get my hands on Stefan. Just wait—”

      Stefan watched as Eve put her hand on Bridget’s arm as if she were trying to calm her. Bridget pulled back her arm and continued to scream. His sister would likely be embarrassed tomorrow.

      “Open the door and offer Ms. Jackson a ride in peace,” Stefan said to his top bodyguard, Franco.

      “Yes, sir.”

      Stefan could tell Eve needed some extra explanation in order to leave his wailing sister with her bodyguard. She slid into the seat across from Stefan and he made a mental note to thank his sister when she decided she was speaking to him again. Eve usually wore jeans, but tonight she wore a dress that revealed her long, shapely legs.

      “Your Highness, your sister’s gonna be ticked off with you for a long time,” Eve drawled.

      “She’ll get over it when I let her take a vacation to Italy soon,” he said. “It’s unfortunate that you had to witness her—” He wanted to choose his words carefully.

      “Hissy fit?” Eve said. “She’s on a short leash and doesn’t like it.”

      “There’s good reason for it,” he said. “I insist on her safety.”

      She frowned and studied him. “Have there been threats?”

      “Threats? Rarely. Risks, always. It’s part of the job,” he said. “Does that frighten you?”

      She crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t like the idea of any of you being hurt.”

      “Neither do I,” Stefan said. “That’s why I have only the best security and that is why Bridget and you shouldn’t have been in that club tonight. Bridget knows she’s supposed to submit her schedule to security before she goes anywhere. She’s in a high-profile position now. She can’t take the same kinds of risks she could before. Plus, she put you at risk.”

      Eve’s eyes widened in surprise. “Me? The only risk I was facing was boredom at that club.”

      “I intend to keep it that way,” he said and paused. “Why didn’t you wait for me? Did you get cold feet?”

      She lifted a dark eyebrow. “Based on our lovely conversation during my meeting with Franz, I didn’t know what to expect.”

      “That was about your slip to the press,” he said, dismissing the concern.