Alexi nodded and buttered another biscuit.
“I mean, she participated in some things in school, but only after her sisters were old enough that they didn’t need her. I just always wondered how different she might have been if she’d been more carefree. I felt so bad about depending on her, but she insisted. She said she wanted the responsibility.”
“Mrs. Jacks, no one, least of all Kerry, resents you for giving her the opportunity to help her family. In fact, that’s one of the things she and I have in common. We’re both the oldest of three and we both have been put in situations where we had to assume leadership.”
“You make it sound so…positive. It’s hard for me to think I didn’t let my oldest baby down.”
He covered her hand with his. “You’ve been a great mother. Kerry told me so when we were traveling together. She’s very proud of you.”
“That’s very sweet,” she said, smiling and giving a little sniff. “I’m proud of all my girls.”
“To tell you the truth,” Alexi said, “I was a little worried you would be angry with me. I wouldn’t blame you if you thought I had taken advantage of your daughter.”
“Prince Alexi, you might have done a lot of things with my daughter, but never once did I think you’d taken advantage of her,” she said with a chuckle. “Kerry might have lived all her life in Ranger Springs and gone to school in San Marcos, but she’s no fool.”
“I’m aware of that. Her strength and zest for life were the two qualities that drew me to her originally.”
“And my first choice wouldn’t be for the two of you to, er…team up like you have,” she said, looking around to see if anyone was listening. “Any mother would like her daughter to have choices rather than feeling pressured to commit. But,” she said with a shrug, “at least you want to do the right thing. And I think Kerry must have strong feelings for you, otherwise she wouldn’t have…well, you know.”
“Yes, I know.” He knew exactly what she meant, and he didn’t feel at all comfortable talking about that with Kerry’s mother. “I hope I can talk her into accepting my proposal.”
Charlene Jacks placed her hand over his and leaned closer. “Honey, you won’t be able to talk Kerry into anything. But if you play your cards right, you might make her realize what she already wants to do—marry the father of her child.”
THERE WAS A PRINCE waiting for her in the parking lot of her apartment building after work that day. He looked hot and a bit disheveled, leaning against his rental car under one of the cottonwood trees lining the complex. Of course, since this was Alexi, he looked darn good hot and disheveled.
When she retrieved her purse and stepped into the heat rising from the asphalt parking lot, he walked over.
“I believe the correct saying is ‘Hi, honey, how was your day?”’ Alexi said, taking her arms and smiling down at her.
“My day was fine,” she said, “and don’t you dare kiss me right here in front of everyone.”
“I don’t see a soul.”
“They’re lurking behind closed miniblinds, so don’t think that we’re alone.”
“You make me—and your neighbors—sound devious.”
“I just think that you’re going to do whatever you can to put pressure on me.”
“I’m only trying to be a nice, regular guy.” He leaned closer and her heart skipped a beat. “Am I doing a good job?”
A job. She had to remember that he was very good at being deceitful. He’d fooled his father and the public for days by playing the role of both cowboy, then prince. He was approaching this…situation with his usual dedication. Of course, he could get tired of this role at any moment.
What if he did give up? How would she feel? Her stomach churned when she tried to imagine life without Alexi, now that he’d come back into her life.
“Let’s get out of this heat,” she said, dismissing her thoughts as quickly as possible. She didn’t want to think about Alexi coming and going, showing up in Ranger Springs to disrupt everything, then retreating to his rich and famous lifestyle. Playing the role of daddy until that, too, bored him.
Stop thinking about what might happen, she told herself as they marched up the steps to the second floor.
“So if I were a regular guy, what would we do tonight?”
“Well,” she said, putting her key into the lock, “we’d talk about what we did today, maybe beside the pool with a cold drink. Then we’d fix dinner or get something—maybe even at the Dairy Queen or the pizza place—and watch a movie or a television show.”
“The pool and a cold one sounds good to me, and I love American pizza. Thick crust, everything but anchovies and onions.”
“Did you bring swim trunks?” she asked as she placed her purse and keys on the side table, then kicked off her low-heeled shoes. Her feet were slightly swollen, maybe from the heat, maybe from the baby.
“Not with me, but I can get them from my room.”
“I might have an old pair in my apartment. I remember moving some things friends had left around the house.”
“I may get jealous if I discover you’re in possession of men’s clothing.”
“Try to control your rage,” Kerry answered with enough sarcasm to stop that line of thinking. On second thought, try to control how much of your clothing you remove…or I may not be able to control myself.
Her hormones were raging, causing more than morning sickness and tender breasts. Ever since Alexi had returned to town, she’d been craving his touch, his kisses. She didn’t know if this was a natural result of the pregnancy or a response to his presence. She wanted him, but couldn’t give in to the passion that would only confuse the issues. Sex was not a strong basis for a good marriage…or so she’d always been told.
Probably by someone who wasn’t being pursued by a hunky prince who happened to be the father of her baby.
Her apartment seemed much smaller with Alexi inside. “Let me see if I can find the box with the extra clothes, then we can both change.”
“Sounds promising.”
“Don’t get your hopes up. I meant you can change in the bathroom while I use the bedroom.”
“Ah, I see,” he said, smiling so intimately that she almost changed her mind and pulled him toward the bed.
She found a pair of Hank’s old, formerly navy swim trunks in the bottom of a box of miscellaneous stuff she had yet to unpack. Handing them to Alexi, she said, “I know these will fit because they belonged to Hank. We used to take my sisters to a neighbor’s pool and he’d change clothes before driving home.”
Within a few minutes she’d found her one-piece and put it on. Unfortunately, her tummy had rounded a little in the past few days. She suddenly felt pregnant. Noticeably pregnant. Rubbing her hand over the very slight mound, she wondered whether she’d have a boy or a girl. A brown-haired, blue-eyed miniature of his daddy or a daughter with mischievous eyes and a slight dimple in her cheeks? In six months, she’d know. But would she ever be certain about Alexi’s proposal?
When she walked into the living room, Alexi was looking through her CD collection, wearing only the swim trunks and a killer tan.
“You did a lot of sunbathing in Monaco, I see,” she said, pulling a plaid shirt around her to keep him from seeing what he’d already seen several times before.
“You’ve been keeping up with my trips.”
“My mother has. I’ve just heard.” She shrugged. She’d looked at the photos and read the captions about Alexi and the rest of the royals, even when her heart was breaking. She’d tried to keep her mother from knowing how she was both fascinated and depressed by the coverage, but when Charlene Jacks had caught her daughter quietly sobbing, she’d put away her prized magazines. “Okay, maybe I noticed a few of the articles she has around the house.”
“I went down to Monte Carlo for a charity fund-raiser.”
“And you went skiing in the Alps, and visited friends in London and flew to Moscow for the opening of an art gallery.”
&n
bsp; “The artist is a friend of mine. What’s wrong with my trips?”
“Nothing’s wrong. It’s just that they are so common for you. Your lifestyle is so different that people like my mother are amazed. They live through you. Do you know what I’ve done in the three months since you left? Started a new job, which is nine-to-five, five days a week. I moved into this apartment, I have Saturday-evening dinner with my family, and I occasionally drive to San Marcos to see some college friends. Those trips consist of a casual meal and maybe a movie or a little shopping, if my budget allows. That’s my life, while you’re flying to Moscow for the opening of an art gallery. I’m pretty certain I couldn’t afford the frame on one of those originals!”
“Is money really the issue, Kerry? Because if it is, when we are married, my money will be your money. You won’t have to work unless you want to, and if you do, you can select a position that will give you some added perks.”
“What kind of perks?” she asked suspiciously. She hoped he wasn’t talking about government kickbacks, which she’d read about in other countries.
“We have many important functions, such as charities and my ongoing efforts to promote tourism in Belegovia. With your knowledge of business and your position as princess, you could make a difference in the lives of many people.”
“I’m not a princess.”
“You could be. All you have to do is say yes.”
She wasn’t sure accepting his proposal would make her feel any more like a princess than putting on a rhinestone tiara and dressing up in a pink froufrou dress. Not that she’d ever done either one of those things. But how did one feel like a princess, other than being born to the position or knowing one day you’d marry a prince? The contessa obviously didn’t have any trouble feeling like royalty, from what Kerry could tell from the photos of her with Alexi.
“Let’s go sit by the pool and have a cold drink. In a half hour or so I’ll call in for a pizza to the new place that delivers.”
“You know I’m going to keep asking,” he said, following her into the kitchen.
“About the pizza?” she asked as she opened the refrigerator and took out one of the beers she kept for friends and a lemonade for herself.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “About accepting my proposal. We were meant to be together.”
“I just don’t know how you came to that conclusion.”
He picked up the two towels he’d brought from the bathroom as she grabbed her keys and portable phone from the table. “Because of all the people in the world, I ran into you at the truck stop, and you thought I was Hank. Of all the people in the world who could have been my double, the one man I resemble lives in your hometown.”
“Okay, I’ll give you that one. The two of us running into each other was a wild coincidence.”
“Exactly right. Then, we got along splendidly on our trip, were going to part, but didn’t, which resulted in the condom breaking.”
“So you think that was fortune smiling on us? I kind of think it was just an old condom.” He followed her down the stairs and toward the pool.
“No, I believe it was fate that put you and me in that abandoned apartment over the café.”
“That was the paparazzi,” she reminded him as she pushed open the squeaky iron gate surrounding the pool.
“Where is your sense of destiny? Your flare for romance?” he asked with a dramatic sweep of his hand.
“I’m a financial analyst, not a poet,” she said, holding back a smile as she selected two lounge chairs nearby.
“And then there’s the timing of your big news.”
“I didn’t contrive anything. You eavesdropped on my conversation with Gwendolyn.”
“Yes, but what about the timing? That was right before I was going to announce my engagement to Contessa di Giovanni. What if I had found out a day or two later?”
Kerry shrugged out of her shirt and sat on the lounge chair. “Good question. What if you had found out after the announcement? What would you have done then?” she asked, squinting up at him through the late-afternoon sun. “And while we’re at it, doesn’t it strike you as slightly irresponsible that you flew off at the drop of a hat and abandoned the poor contessa?”
Chapter Ten
“I did not abandon the contessa,” Alexi defended himself. “I explained to her that because of my earlier trip to Texas, I was unable to commit to her at this time. I can’t say that she was happy about my decision, but she understands.” He took a sip of beer and hoped Kerry understood.
“How very nice for her,” Kerry said, pushing her sunglasses down so they hid her eyes. “So she’s probably beside the phone right now, waiting for your call.”
“I believe she’s probably in Paris with friends, hardly pining away for me.”
Kerry looked away, apparently watching a middle-aged man swim laps in the pool. Other than him, they were blessedly alone. Finally, she asked, “Does she love you?”
Alexi took a deep breath. How could he explain the relationships of the European nobility? They formed a small, elite group of mostly interrelated people who often had careers and interests far outside their titles. But some lived for the role to which they were born. There was an unspoken bond between them, and sometimes a remarkable competition for greater titles, wealth or prestige.
“The contessa was born to nobility and has moved in the circles of her counterparts in many other countries. She knows how to interact on all social levels. She’s beautiful and cultured, but she’s not looking for the love of her life. She’s looking for the title of her life.”
“So she wants to marry you because she’ll be a princess.”
“No, she wants to marry me because someday she would be queen, and our children would become the future rulers.”
“That sounds so archaic. And you make her sound so cold and calculating.”
“As I’ve told you, this wasn’t a love match. My father picked out a number of young women whom he thought I might like. He realized I wasn’t going to marry a woman I couldn’t stand. After all, he wants grandchildren. And he wants the royal line continued.”
Kerry shook her head. “All this talk about royal heirs and princesses and queens has me overwhelmed. I can’t believe you think I would fit into this ‘small, elite group’ of people who have these remarkable lifestyles that are written about in magazines.”
“The paparazzi can be annoying, but you’ll learn to live around them.”
“What about all your peers? They wouldn’t accept me.”
He reached over and took her hand. “Kerry, my darling, you will someday be a queen. You are carrying the royal heir. Of course they will accept you. To do otherwise would be to commit social suicide. Besides, there are many kind and relatively ‘normal’ royals you would truly enjoy.”
She pulled her hand from his and shook her head. “This is too much for me to think about right now. I’m going for a swim.”
Alexi settled back on his chaise and watched her walk resolutely to the side of the pool, crouch and dive into the deep end. She was running away from his words, but she was at least thinking about marrying him. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be worrying about being accepted by his peers.
He had to find a way to expose her to his life, although he didn’t want to rush her. She’d had so much occur in her life in the past three months that he felt guilty pushing her. But they didn’t have all the time in the world. He didn’t want to walk down the aisle with her, worrying whether she was going into labor before they said their “I do’s.”
He placed his beer on the concrete and pushed up from the chaise. With a smile, he walked to the side of the pool and dove in. The cool water surged over him, enveloping him in a pleasant cocoon. He loved to swim; he’d been in competition when he was younger, before his own life had become disrupted by the restoration of Belegovia’s monarchy. Kerry would adapt; she was both a fighter and a pragmatist.
With sure, strong strokes he caught up with her, allowin
g himself the luxury of looking his fill of her toned muscles, soft skin and alluring curves. He wanted her—in his bed and beside him on the throne when they were both older, with their children secure in their heritage. He knew he didn’t always get what he wanted; he wasn’t entitled to a happily-ever-after life any more than a taxi driver, a teacher or a business executive.
But he could try his best to get Kerry to be his wife. His princess. And someday, a country’s queen.
ALL DURING DINNER, which consisted of pizza, bread sticks and salad, served at her small table in the equally small dining room of her apartment, Kerry thought about Alexi’s description of his world. Or, more specifically, the people in his world. They were so different than the folks she knew. Thelma Rogers, owner and editor of the Springs Gazette, wasn’t anything like the European paparazzi. The “rulers” of Ranger Springs were neighbors and even friends elected to the city council, served as police chief, or provided other city services. And the social elite weren’t looking for titles and personal legacies. Well, at least most of them weren’t. There were a few people who thought they were a little better than ordinary people, but not many. And besides, everyone knew who they were and worked around their foibles.
She couldn’t imagine how a little nobody like her would fit into the social scene in Europe. Despite what Alexi said, she knew they’d laugh her right across the Atlantic. He just wanted her to accept his proposal, so he was telling her things would work out. Maybe he even believed it, but she couldn’t. How could she, when she couldn’t imagine what life might be like inside an actual palace?
Maybe she should talk to Gwendolyn. She’d lived in Alexi’s world, and she was honest, if guarded, in answering questions.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” she asked Alexi after toying with her salad and breaking off pieces of bread stick.
“I thought I’d see if Gwendolyn was busy. We might have lunch. Could you join us?”
Drat. He was going to talk to their friend first. “Hmm, I don’t think so. I may have a meeting.”
The Prince's Texas Bride Page 14
