Chapter Two
Alexi settled back against the fake leopard fur seat and let the warmth of the Texas day seep into his bones. He’d taken several short vacations in the past year or so, but they’d involved rushed trips to the Mediterranean or skiing in the Alps, hiding from the paparazzi, trying to have a personal life in impersonal fancy suites and ski lodges. Nothing at all like a long drive across the Texas prairie in an aging Toyota.
Nothing at all like a trip with Kerry Lynn Jacks.
“You have a real ‘cat ate the canary’ smile on your face,” she said, her voice drifting through the drowsy noontime like feathers through mist.
“Hmm. Well, I do feel rather contented at the moment.”
She chuckled. “You’re an easy man to please…Mack.”
“I know a score of people who would disagree with you. Starting with my public-relations director, who is probably still fuming.”
“That was kind of mean of you—leaving her standing there in the parking lot, stamping her foot.”
Alexi smiled. “Yes, that was rather bad of me. I’ll make it up to her, though. Besides, I told her I didn’t want to make the appearances in San Antonio. She was filling in some time until we discovered if the president was going to come to his ranch for the weekend.”
The car swerved as Kerry gasped. Alexi opened one eye and looked around.
“The president! You mean you were supposed to meet with the president and you ran off to Galveston with me instead?”
“The meeting wasn’t assured. We had no idea if he’d be traveling to Texas. You know how things come up.”
“Oh, of course,” she said in a highly stressed voice. When he glanced at her, she made a sweeping gesture with her hands. “I know exactly how things can just come up with you heads of state.”
“Really, Kerry, I doubt that the meeting would have occurred. Congress and world events can be very unpredictable. Besides, originally I had wanted to take a few days of holiday, but Lady Gwendolyn insisted we keep to a tight schedule.”
She shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m in my car, having a conversation with a prince who was going to spend the weekend with the president.”
“No, you’re driving to Galveston with your good friend Mack.”
“Hey, I’m the one having the fantasy, okay?”
“Are you so sure?” he asked. Kerry might not look like the models and aspiring actresses who attended the events he usually frequented. She was cute rather than beautiful, petite rather than statuesque and honest rather than calculating. He found her honesty and natural charm extremely desirable. “I can’t imagine anyone I’d rather spend time with, and that includes your current leader.”
She opened her mouth, but no words came forth. For once, he’d managed to silence her somewhat saucy remarks.
Closing his eyes, he settled back against the seat once more. The sound of the tires rolling down the highway lulled him into sleep, and he dozed, a vision of Kerry’s amazed expression bringing a smile to his lips.
“WHERE ARE WE?” Alexi—or Mack—slowly opened his eyes. Lord, he looked good when he woke up. Really, really sexy. How was she going to keep her hands off him for three days?
“We’re in Sealy, about an hour outside of Houston.” She drove past the Wal-Mart and several fast-food places until she spotted a service station with a food mart. “Are you hungry? We can get a snack, although I’d like to wait to eat supper with my aunt and uncle tonight, if possible.”
She pulled off the interstate onto the service road.
“Very good. I could use a cold drink.” He raised his lean, muscular torso off Delores’s seat and stretched, as much as possible, inside the tight confines of the car. “I hadn’t realized I was so sleepy,” he said as she pulled to a stop at the gas pumps.
Kerry tore her eyes away from his tempting body and reached for the door handle. “You can get a soft drink or some water if you’d like. I won’t be long.”
“I’ll help you,” he said, opening his own door.
“No, that’s okay.” She needed a few minutes apart from him. For the past several hours, she’d had time to think about this trip. About him. About what she was doing driving a real, live prince around Texas.
Maybe this adventure was a big mistake.
“It’s been several years, but I think I can remember how to fuel up your vehicle.”
“You don’t have to—”
“Kerry, if I truly were Hank, wouldn’t you let me help?”
“Well…”
Right there beside the gas pumps, Delores’s poor old engine popping and wheezing beside them, he used one finger to tip up her chin. “I’m Mack, your friend, remember? Treat me just like you would Hank.”
“I’m having a hard time with that,” she whispered.
“Kerry Lynn Jacks, you are thinking too much,” he answered with a smile.
His smile slowly faded. Her lips slowly parted. He leaned closer, closer…Just when she thought he might kiss her, her car let out a particularly loud ping. Blinking, Kerry stepped back.
“Seriously,” she said. “I’ll pump the gas. If you’d like to do something nice, you can buy me a soft drink. Anything cold with caffeine.”
“Very well,” he said with a sigh.
“Oh, and Mack,” she said, emphasizing the nickname, “whatever you do, don’t use the word schedule.” His pronunciation of “shed-yule” would give him away immediately.
He chuckled, waving off her concern, and she went back to filling up Delores’s tank, probably for the last time.
After they’d both used the facilities, they piled back into the car. In the few minutes they’d been apart, Kerry had gotten herself under control again. Okay, so she was chauffeuring a prince around Texas. And pretending he was someone else. She could do this.
But he had to help.
“Look, if you’re going to be ‘Mack’ instead of Prince Alexi,” she said as she started Delores’s reluctant engine, “you need to talk like you’re from Texas instead of London.”
“We can work on that on the way to Galveston.”
“Okay. So tell me about your family—your real one, that is, not something you’d make up to fit your Texas persona—but use your best Texas accent.”
“Hmm, very well,” he began.
“Wait just a minute. Don’t say ‘very well.’ Texans just don’t talk that way. You can say ‘okay’ instead.”
“Okay,” he responded with a tight smile. “I’m the oldest son of King Wilheim of Belegovia. I have a brother who lives in our country and a sister who is attending university—”
“Nope, she’s ‘goin’ to college,”’ Kerry interrupted.
“Okay, she’s goin’ to college at my alma mater, Harvard.”
“Pretty classy,” Kerry said with a grin. “You’re getting better, by the way. Just relax. Go ahead.”
“Let’s see…Oh, yes. My mother lives in England.”
“Are your parents divorced?”
“No, but they haven’t lived together since shortly after our country became a separate entity after liberation from the Soviet Union.”
“Okay, tell that to me again in Texas-style English.”
Alexi laughed. “Sorry. Belegovia is an old monarchy that was swallowed up by the Soviet Union after World War II. My grandfather fled the country with his family and sought asylum in England.”
“So the queen took you in.”
“Actually, I—”
“No ‘actually,’ either. Just go ahead and tell me.”
“Very…er, sorry,” he responded with a grin. “My father was a very young man when they settled in England. I wasn’t born yet.”
“Oh, so that’s why your mother is from England.”
“Right. And she prefers to live there. You see, she never expected my father to become king. After all, he didn’t have a country when they married, and there wasn’t any clue that we’d ever get it back.”
“So she didn’t want t
o be a queen.”
“She didn’t want to give up her life, her home, her friends,” Alexi said, his expression showing he’d resigned himself to his parents’ situation long ago. “My father taught history. She was much happier being married to a professor than a king.”
“I suppose I can understand her point. I mean, there’s got to be a lot of hassles when you’re a monarch. Lack of privacy, lots of expectations.”
“And don’t forget all those public appearances,” he said with a grin.
Kerry gave him what she hoped was a chastising frown.
“To give her credit, she tried to fit in for a short while, but the country was still chaotic when we returned to Belegovia. The parliament and some of the courts were in operation, but the palace had yet to be restored and the role of the king was still tenuous.”
“Texas talk, remember?” she prodded.
“Oh, of course.” He frowned for a moment, then brightened. “The place was a damned mess,” he finally said with a grin and a drawl.
Kerry laughed. “By George, I think he’s got it,” she said in her best Henry Higgins imitation.
She sipped her soft drink as they drew closer to Houston. She hoped they missed most of the rush hour traffic, which could be brutal, from what she’d heard from her aunt and uncle. They avoided “the city,” which meant anywhere in or near Houston, whenever possible, preferring the slower pace of life on the island.
“Tell me about yourself, Kerry Lynn Jacks,” Alexi said, breaking into her thoughts as she passed a semi.
“I have a mother and two sisters. No father, at least not for years. He left when I was thirteen.”
“That must have been difficult for your mother.”
“Yes, it was. She’s a waitress at the Four Square Café in Ranger Springs, which doesn’t pay really great. I’ve been helping out as much as I could, mainly because tips at the truck stop are a lot better than at the local diner.”
“I see. What about your sisters? How old are they?”
“Carole is just a year and a half younger than me—nearly twenty-seven. Cheryl is twenty-six. Both of them live in Ranger Springs.”
“Do they resemble you?”
“Your Texas accent is slipping,” she said, mostly to collect her thoughts. “And yes, sort of.”
“Then they must be very beautiful.”
“Oh, puleeze,” she said, already feeling her cheeks heating. “You don’t have to say things like that just because I’m giving you a ride across the state.”
“That’s not why I said it.”
“Look, I’m slightly cute, okay? But beautiful people are tall and thin and dress in incredibly fantastic clothes. They live in New York and California and exotic places, not Ranger Springs, Texas.”
“You’ve been reading too many fashion and celebrity magazines.”
“No, I’ve just learned to be a realist. I’m not unhappy with who I am. I’m content to be short and cute.” She took a big breath, then smiled at him. “Besides, I’m also smart and stubborn. That makes up for a lot of slinky clothes and exotic locales.”
“So what is a smart, cute woman like yourself doing after graduation on Saturday?”
She brightened at his question. “I have a great job at Grayson Industries as a financial analyst. Gray Phillips moved his company to town two years ago and married our doctor, Amy Wheatley. Business is booming, so he’s expanding his financial staff. I’ll be looking at things like cash flow, financing and inventory management.”
“Sounds interesting.”
“Are you just saying that?”
“No. Why do you think I went to Harvard? They don’t offer degrees in ‘princely deportment,”’ he teased. “I got my MBA to help manage my own investments and help my father. Besides, there was a good chance I’d need to get a job, since the title ‘prince’ doesn’t translate into a living in the real world. There was no guarantee that Belegovia could successfully return to a parliamentary-style government with a titular monarchy.”
“Really? I guess I hadn’t thought about it.” She’d assumed that he’d always been assured of his position in the world. But now that she knew more of his background, she understood that being a prince wasn’t something he’d grown up with, not like the British royal family. From the day they were born, they knew what their role was going to be. Alexi had grown up as the son of a history professor who happened to have royal blood.
And now that he’d turned thirty, his father demanded he get married. A princess bride. If she’d read about it in one of her mother’s royalty magazines, Kerry knew she’d think the situation romantic. After all, hadn’t she watched the last big royal wedding with tears in her eyes over the fairy-tale quality—the ivory satin gown with the long, long train, the tiara, the beautiful flowers?
Now that she knew the situation from Alexi’s point of view, she understood the pressure he felt. This trip was obviously a rebellion against his father’s mandate. She’d taken only one course in psychology, but she understood such motivation.
“If you get tired of driving, please let me know. I’ll be glad to take over,” he said, breaking into her thoughts.
“We’re almost to Houston. The traffic is pretty bad and it’s almost rush hour. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.”
“Actually…sorry.” He slipped into his version of a Texas accent. “I meant, I was a darned good driver when I lived in Boston.”
“Do you even have a driver’s license?”
“Of course,” he said with mock indignation. “Duly issued by the Belegovian Department of Transportation. I even took the written test. And I drove a Formula One racer in a charity event in Monte Carlo last year.”
Kerry laughed as she shook her head. “Just hang on, Mario Andretti. I’m taking you into the final lap. We’ll be in Galveston in less than two hours.”
ALEXI ENJOYED viewing the sprawling metropolitan area of Houston. He could barely see the downtown area from the eastbound interstate highway, just south of Houston. Various groupings of high-rise buildings gave the impression of several different “downtown” districts as Kerry deftly dodged traffic.
She would have been a big hit in the charity race in Monaco, he thought with a smile. He could just see her layered blond hair peeking out from a helmet, her petite, curvy body encased in the one-piece, form-fitting, emblem-emblazoned driver’s suit.
His smile faded as his body responded to the image. Shifting in Delores’s fake-fur seat, he glanced at Kerry. She was absorbed in the heavy traffic, so he looked his fill. She was right; she was cute. Her skin was lightly freckled, her hair naturally streaked by the sun. But her animated features and endearingly honest personality made her beautiful in his eyes.
When he’d impulsively decided to accompany her on this trip, he’d wanted to explore the instant attraction he’d felt for this Texas sprite. Now that he knew more about her, he liked her even more. He wasn’t sure how many days he could spend with her—surely they’d return for her graduation on Saturday—but he would savor each moment.
He really hoped the president was too busy to go to his ranch this weekend. After all, they had nothing of substance to discuss; Belegovia’s contract with the United States for the removal of old Soviet Union missile silos was secure. The U.S. had granted much-needed foreign aid for Belegovia’s cooperation in making sure the region was safe from nuclear accidents.
Besides, Alexi knew he’d much rather spend time with Kerry than the leader of the free world.
They exited the loop and headed south for Galveston, passing one of Houston’s airports, Kerry informed him. Soon the buildings and the traffic cleared. The flat plains of south Texas met the water in marshes on either side of the highway.
“How much farther?” he finally asked.
Kerry smiled at him. “You sound like a little boy.”
“Those are fightin’ words,” he said, mocking a Texas accent.
Kerry laughed. “Actually, you sounded a lot like Hank then
. Keep it up and Aunt Marcy and Uncle Bob will never know you have blue blood in your veins.”
“So my goal is to be a little over the top?”
“That’s Hank. And to answer your original question, about half an hour.”
Alexi settled back in the seat and watched the salt marshes whiz by. Hank. He kept coming up in conversation. Had Kerry been in love with the cowboy? Was she over their romance? The questions bothered him more than he wanted to admit. But that was probably because he was so curious about all aspects of Kerry Lynn Jacks. Wondering about her previous relationships was normal…right?
So what if he couldn’t recall ever thinking about the previous lovers of any of the women he’d dated. Kerry was different in so many ways, but they both knew their time together was limited. Perhaps that made the experience so much more intense. They had a lot to learn in three short days.
He’d love to learn how she would look, flushed with desire, her blue-gray eyes smoky and mysterious. She was so expressive, so spontaneous. Kerry would be a wonderful lover, he was certain. But she was also a delightful person, and until they arrived at their destination and he knew what sleeping arrangements were offered, he was content to watch her drive and listen to her speak of her friends, family and home state.
“I should warn you that Aunt Marcy is in a wheelchair. She gets around so well that sometimes I forget, but I didn’t want you to be too surprised when we get to their house.”
“That’s fine. Was she in an accident?”
“No, she was one of the last cases of polio before the vaccine was developed in the 1950s.”
“Bloody horrible disease,” he muttered, then held up his hand. “And no comments about saying it in Texas English.”
“I wasn’t going to,” she said softly. She drove for a few more minutes, then gestured to the left. “I know you went off without much from your luggage. If you need to get anything, there’s a mall up there. Galveston clothing shopping is pretty limited unless you want souvenir T-shirts and tropical shorts.”
“That’s very thoughtful. I should pick up a few things. If you wouldn’t mind…”
“Not at all.”
The Prince's Texas Bride Page 3
