Romancing the Crown Series

by Romancing the Crown Series (13-in-1 bundle) (v1. 0) (lit)

  "And you can afford it because you're specialized?" he asked.

  She nodded. "My money comes from quality, not quantity, so I can afford the range space."

  For a long moment they just sat there, in the old, companionable silence she'd once known with Joe. She sighed inwardly, knowing that longing for the past was useless, but still unable to help herself. She'd loved Joe with all the passion and emotion she had in her. And she thought that maybe, just maybe, she could come to love this man beside her in the same way.

  But even if she could love a prince, she didn't think she could ever live with one.

  Chapter 5

  The full moon washed the vista in an eerie silver light. Lucas shifted in the saddle, staring out across the vastness of the Colorado landscape from his vantage point on the ridge. Behind him were the Rockies, the towering peaks that still inspired awe in him. He remembered how, as Joe, he'd often stood outside at night and just stared up at them. He'd known that these "serious mountains," as Jessie called them, were something his home—even though he couldn't remember it—didn't have, yet somehow they seemed familiar.

  Now, of course, he knew that the Sebastiani family owned a large cabin in Aspen, a cabin that was one of his favorite places to retreat, and was, in fact, where he'd been heading when the plane he'd rented for the spur-ofthe-moment trip had gone down in that freak Colorado storm.

  And if that crash hadn 't happened, you would never have met Jessie, he thought. And Luke, precious Luke, would never have been born.

  The sense of loss he felt at the very idea startled him. It still had the power to shock him sometimes, how that tiny little boy had already wrapped him around his finger. He'd clung to him at first, when he'd thought Jessie dead, because Luke was the only part of her he had left. But it hadn't taken long to see himself in the child, as well. And soon he was enamored with Luke himself, amazed at how the baby was already showing individuality and personality.

  He'd never before understood the fascination with having children. He'd always known what was expected of him, that he would have to provide an heir to the throne, it had been hammered into him from his own childhood. And on the rare occasions when he'd thought about it growing up, he'd thought little about the woman who would bear those children. He would make, he assumed, a suitable match when the time came, hopefully with a woman he could like and respect. When his parents had chosen a British woman he'd never met, daughter of some earl or other, he'd accepted it as inevitable, eventually.

  He'd also known he would only have to be as involved with his future children as he wanted to be—there would always be nursemaids, nannies and, later, governesses to deal with them. It was expected in many circles.

  But now, he couldn't imagine handing his son over to a string of caretakers. And he suddenly understood why his parents, who had been considered quite odd in royal circles, had insisted on being so directly involved in their children's lives.

  And now, instead of that phantom woman he only hoped he could reach an accord with, he'd had a child with a woman he loved.

  And not only that. He liked and respected Jessie, as well. He admired her, was sometimes even in awe of her, something he was unused to with any woman other than his mother.

  In fact, Jessie was the first woman he'd ever been serious about that he was certain wouldn't crumble in the face of his mother's strength. He doubted she would tremble in the face of his father's power, either.

  He tried to picture it all, tried to envision Jessie in his world. Doubt assailed him, but he shoved it aside. She was the woman he loved and the mother of his son.

  He let out a long breath. He'd tried to put the future out of his mind for this time of respite. More important, he'd kept himself from broaching the subject with Jessie, because he was sure he already knew what her reaction would be. But he couldn't put it off much longer. He had a finite amount of time he could spend here, no matter how much he wanted to stay and give her all the time she needed.

  A chill overtook him, and the bay shifted restlessly. He reached out and patted the horse's neck. Jessie loved this place as she did nothing else; it was in her bones, her blood. And now it was working its magic on her. It, and baby Luke—the bond between them grew stronger every day, and Lucas guessed it would soon be as limitless as if they'd never been separated on the day he'd been born.

  In the time they'd been here she'd grown stronger, healthier, and he could see color in her cheeks once more. As she put the nightmare further and further behind her, that old sparkle in her eyes returned, joined now by a new joy—joy in the baby they'd created here in this place. Would Montebello bring her joy, as well?

  Reluctantly, he reined the bay around and sent him toward the barn. He felt the cold of the night air against his face, reminding him winter was bearing down on them, a winter unlike any his island home would ever see. There was something exhilarating about the cold, crisp air of these mountains. Taking a deep breath was like a drink of crystal-clear, icy water. There was also a certain appeal to being snowed in, he remembered. A dangerous appeal, he thought, remembering the long, cold nights when Luke had been conceived.

  Heat flooded him then, and the chill of the night was nothing against the inner fire. His body tightened fiercely at the hot, sweet memories. They'd kept each other warm, he and Jessie, during those mountain nights. They'd kept each other warm, and she had kept him sane.

  Now he was going crazy, sleeping every night under the same roof but knowing he had no right to join her in that big, old brass bed. Knowing that Joe would have had the right, but Prince Lucas Sebastiani did not. Odd, how the position that had gained him easy and welcome entry to so many places around the world had shut the door against him in the one place he truly wanted to be.

  Back at the barn, he took his time rubbing down the big bay even though it was after midnight. He gave the big horse a ration of extra grain as thanks for the unscheduled late-night excursion, and at long last, he made his way back to the silent, sleeping house.

  At least, he'd thought it was silent. As he crept past Jessie's closed door, he heard a murmuring sound behind it. He stopped, listening. The murmur sounded almost like a whimper, and that was enough to have him knocking on the door. When no answer came, he pushed the door open.

  Jessie was just sitting up in bed, shoving tangled blond locks out of her face, blinking owlishly.

  "Jessie? Are you all right?"

  "I.. .think so," she said, staring at him somewhat dazedly. "It must have been a dream."

  "A nightmare?" he asked softly, stepping into the room.

  After a moment she nodded. "Gerald. It was Gerald, and he'd come for Luke...."

  Her gaze shot to the small crib beside her bed. The baby slept on, peacefully. Unable to resist, Lucas walked over and sat beside her on the bed.

  "It's all right, Jessie. You're safe now."

  That strength he'd seen building back up since they'd come here asserted itself. "I know. It was just a dream."

  "Do they happen often?"

  "Not as much as before. And I know they'll go away, eventually."

  The admiration he'd been acknowledging before surged to the forefront now. Jessie Chambers was the gutsiest woman he'd ever met, possibly excepting his mother, the teacher who had become a queen.

  For a long, silent moment he sat there, aching to take her into his arms, aching to bury himself in her, find the comfort the lost soul called Joe had once found.

  "Jessie," he said hoarsely, and was a little startled at the heat he heard in his own voice.

  She looked up at him as if she'd read his thoughts. "I know," she whispered. "But I can't. Everything's too tangled up, too confused."

  He reined himself in. He hadn't really expected anything different.

  "If you were Joe," she began, then stopped.

  And not for the first time, Lucas envied that man he'd been, with no memory, no past, and no life to get in the way.

  This was so awkward, Jessie thought.


  She had finished changing Luke's diaper—she was getting better at it, she really was, she told herself—and put him down for his afternoon nap, then wandered down to the kitchen for a snack. She'd lost enough weight during her ordeal that she could afford a couple of Mrs. Winstead's wonderful, sinful chocolate-fudge cookies.

  Now, with the sweet taste of the chocolate lingering, she leaned against the counter and stared out the windows, not really seeing the barn or the paddock beyond where Brat was kicking up her heels.

  She hadn't really thought about what it would be like to have him under the same roof, when their circumstances were so changed. But that night last week, when he'd come in after she'd had that nightmare again, it had been pounded home to her that if he indeed had been Joe, she could have sought solace in his arms. She could have let his body and what it could do to hers drive away all the nightmares, all the horror of it. She remembered so well those long nights, so cold outside and so hot with passion inside. She remembered so well the way he had loved her, the way his clever fingers had played upon her nerve endings, the way his mouth had teased her to a frenzy, how the slow, huge invasion of his body had sent her soaring.

  But that had been Joe. This was a man she didn't really know, a man with a past that was the stuff of history books, a present that was in the news and a lifestyle she couldn't begin to comprehend.

  She supposed she should be grateful that he hadn't pressed her, that he hadn't come back to the ranch assuming they would pick up right where they left off.

  Then again, maybe he hadn't because he didn't want to. She'd been good enough for Joe, but a prince?

  "You're frowning again, girl," Mrs. Winstead said as she came into the kitchen. "What are you worrying about now?"

  "Not worrying," Jessie said. She licked the last of the melted, gooey chocolate from her fingers before adding, "I was just being silly. Wishing Lucas was still just Joe."

  "Do you, really?"

  "Well, not if it meant he never got his memory back. That would be too cruel. I guess I just wanted—still want —Joe to be...real."

  "Feel you've lost him, do you?"

  "I feel as if I never really had him, because he never really existed."

  Mrs. Winstead clucked and shook her head. "He'sjust hidden behind all that princely stuff," she said with a sniff.

  Was it possible? Could her Joe still be there, amid all the changes she saw?

  She walked outside thoughtfully, then smiled as Brat whinnied the moment she set foot on the porch. She walked across the yard to lean on the fence, and the mare raced over and skidded to a flashy stop in front of her.

  "Show off," Jessie said, but her voice made it clear she was teasing.

  The horse bobbed her head, making her black forelock dance. Jessie reached out to rub the velvety nose and leaned forward to puff a soft hello at the horse's nostrils, something she'd learned early on the animal liked. After a moment she heard footsteps behind her. She didn't turn to look; she knew that steady, long stride.

  "She's quite a horse," Lucas said.

  "Yes, she is."

  "I'll never forget that day you cut that sick little white-faced calf out of the herd, and momma came after it."

  "Neither will I." Jessie meant it; the herd had been at one angle, the cow had been coming at her from another angle, trying to get to her calf on yet another. Brat had been puzzled at first, but had apparently decided her job was to keep them all apart no matter what, and had put on a show of cutting, darting and spinning unlike anything Jessie had ever seen, let alone ridden.

  "I'm thinking of breeding her. A foal next year would be just about old enough for Luke when he's ready to ride on his own."

  Lucas didn't answer, and when she glanced at him she was startled at the grim look on his face. She wondered what had brought it on, and could only think of one thing.

  "You don't believe in starting a child riding that early?" she asked.

  "Of course I do. I was three."

  "Oh. Well, good then." Another possible explanation for that look came to her. "Are you thinking you won't be here when he's that age?" she asked gently, knowing how it would hurt her to have to live a life without that child who had already become so precious to her.

  He went very still. "I won't be far away from him, Jessie. Ever."

  She sighed. "How can you not be? Your life is half a world away."

  "Yes." He took a long, deep, audible breath. "And so is Luke's."

  It was her turn to go still. "What?"

  "He's coming back with me, Jessie. He's the heir to the throne of Montebello. He belongs to us." And just like that, the man she'd once loved—or rather, this man who looked like him—managed what Gerald had never quite accomplished. He'd terrified her.

  ♥ Scanned by Coral ♥

  Chapter 6

  "No," Jessie said.

  Lucas was already cursing himself for the blunt way he'd put it. He hadn't meant it to come out like that, he'd had the words all worked out, the words to explain to her, but he'd somehow lost them. Since the first moment he'd seen her holding their baby, he'd had trouble holding on to the reality he knew was coming.

  But when he'd heard her making plans for an idyllic life for herself and the baby here on the ranch, apparently without him, he'd known it would only get worse if he waited any longer. He had to return home, and he had to bring the heir to the throne with him. There was no choice. Even if the life she'd been planning aloud made him ache inside with longing.

  With an effort, he gathered his scattered thoughts. "I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry."

  She gave him a look so chilly he nearly shivered. "Am I supposed to be honored? I suppose not many get an apology from a prince."

  "Jessie, please, don't. Do you think that this is easy for me?"

  "I don't know. Because I don't really know you at all, do I?"

  He let out a compressed breath. "I suppose you don't. So will you let me tell you? Who I am?" She looked a bit startled, as if she hadn't expected that. He pressed his advantage. "Come ride with me," he suggested, knowing she was at her most amenable on the back of her beloved Brat, riding the land she loved. "Let me tell you everything."

  "Nothing you tell me will make me let you take my baby away from me," she warned him.

  He didn't tell her he had no intention of taking the baby away from her. He had another plan, one she wasn't ready to hear. Not yet. "Just ride with me, listen. Then we'll talk."

  But when they were at last heading out, Brat prancing a bit, as if she sensed her rider's edginess, Lucas still wasn't sure where to start.

  "Let me tell you about my home, first," he finally said. "What do you know about Montebello?"

  "I've read the stories," she said, her voice so flat it told him volumes about how hard this was going to be. "I know it was an English colony, and only became self-governing in eighteen-something."

  "Eighteen-eighty. And England never left, not really. They've been part of Montebello forever, and now we're so intermingled they always will be. Besides, it was wise of the first king to keep in favor with Britain, with Tamir on our doorstep."

  "The first king. Your great-times-something grandfather?"

  "Yes. Augustus."

  He knew she was thinking of Luke and the ancestral name he'd been given, he could see it in her face, but she said nothing about that. Instead she asked, "I read about some sort of feud or something from back then."

  "Yes. All the melodrama you could want, an arranged marriage for political reasons, a dowry of a large piece of Montebellan land, the mysterious death of the groom-to-be." His mouth quirked. "We do nothing in a small way."

  "With the crown prince crashing a plane in America and disappearing for months, turning up later having had amnesia, just in time to help the FBI break up a terrorist stronghold in the U.S.? Yes, I'd say you don't."

  He would have been able to handle it better if her tone had been sarcastic, but it hadn't. It had still been as flatly neutral as bef
ore. As if the tale didn't matter to her, didn't affect her in any way.

  As if she'd already cut herself off from him, and from his world.

  For the first time Lucas felt a twinge of desperation and doubt. He quashed it, but it took more effort than it ever had before. Perhaps, he thought wryly, because he'd always been arrogant enough before to assume that he could resolve any problem he came up against, that he could make anyone do what he wanted, eventually.

  He wasn't at all sure he could make Jessie do a thing.

  He tried another tack. "My family has ruled Montebello since the day Britain gave us self-rule. We are Montebello, the people of our country are our responsibility, and one that we take very, very seriously. Unlike other monarchies, we aren't just figureheads. We govern, and every decision made is made because we truly believe it's for the good of the people."

  "Noble," she said, again with no trace of sarcasm, no emotion at all.

  Despite his concern over that lack of feeling in her voice, Lucas smiled inwardly at her choice of words. Someday he would tell her that in Montebello, that word had a special meaning because of a group of very special men who had become part of Montebello's history over the years. The story of the Noble Men and their firstborn sons would appeal to her, he thought, and not only because they were Americans. He knew Jessie would appreciate their quiet heroics.

  And, he admitted honestly, the fact that they were heroes in Montebello couldn't hurt when it came to swaying her toward acceptance of the inevitable.

  But first he had to convince her to come.

  "Not really," he answered. "It's simply that we understand that we rule by the grace of our people. We serve at their pleasure, not the other way around. It's been that way since Augustus."

  "Unusual king," she said, and he noted with relief that there was at least a spark of interest in her voice.

  "So is my father. He has a long legacy to live up to, and he knows it."