Raye Morgan - The Prince's Texas Bride / The Reluctant Princess - The Prince's Texas Bride / The Reluctant Princess

He liked the way she enjoyed the house and saw herself in it with a modification. “It’s nice being with a woman who’s not so—” He paused. “Overly fashion conscious.”

She smiled. “Or prissy.”

He smiled in return. “That word didn’t occur to me.”

“Bet it will now,” she said.

He swallowed a chuckle. “You still haven’t seen the best part. Come on,” he said and led her through the glass doors to the expansive balcony with two chaise longues, a table with an umbrella, and a view of the hippest beach in Chantaine. The music of an American R&B band rose from just beneath them.

She tilted her head quizzically. “That sounds awfully familiar. Are they a cover band for … “ She glanced over the balcony. “Americans? Here in Chantaine?”

He shook his head, amused again. “We have many American visitors every year. Some Americans like it here, Eve.”

“Well, of course they do,” she said. “I just didn’t expect to see one of my favorite R&B bands playing on one of Chantaine’s beaches.”

“Think about it. You play a lot of cities and concert halls. Then you get a chance to play in paradise, all expenses paid.”

“How come you never see these gigs listed on the band website?” she asked.

“Privacy’s also one of our charms.”

“Hmm. Maybe it shouldn’t be,” she said.

“What do you mean?” he asked, unable to conceal a trace of indignation. “Part of Chantaine’s attraction is that we’re not overexposed.”

“I hate to bust your ego, but before I met your sister Tina, I didn’t know Chantaine existed. Granted, I’m not a world traveler, but I’m college educated and always got As in Geography. If Chantaine’s economy is suffering, maybe it’s time to let the cat of the bag about what a great place this is.”

“It’s a delicate balance,” he said. “The advisers and state officials can’t agree.”

“Makes you wish you were the boss of everything,” she said and smiled.

“Enough about business. Let’s enjoy the music,” he said, joining her at the balcony railing.

“And the ocean breeze,” she said, lifting her chin and closing her eyes.

He skimmed his hand down the inside of her arm. “And the company. Would you like a drink?”

Her eyes flashed open, and she leaned close to him, and she whispered, “Are you sure we should raid your aunt’s liquor cabinet?”

Stefan laughed, full and hard, at the ridiculous question. He hadn’t laughed this hard in a long time. The notion that his aunt would be upset at his use of anything in her home was ridiculous. He led Eve inside to the bar. “I’ll replace anything we use,” he assured her. “What’s your pleasure?”

“I’m not a big drinker,” she said, looking at the rows of liquor, but stopped when she saw a bottle of bourbon. “But I could sip on a Texas Rose.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

She gave a mock gasp. “You mean I know something you don’t?”

“What’s in it?” he asked. “I’ll fix it.”

“You?” she asked, her eyes rounded in surprise. “I thought you had staff for everything.”

“I do, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do most of what my staff can do,” he said. “Why do you think I fired so many stable masters?”

She winced. “That’s scary.”

“Ingredients,” he demanded and stepped behind the bar.

“I’ve only had it a few times,” she said. “Bourbon, orange juice, cherry liquor … and champagne.”

He lifted an eyebrow, but grabbed the bourbon from the second shelf. The bottle was dusty. “Prissy drink.”

“Maybe,” she said. “But if you drink it, too, you can always say you’ve had a Texas Rose.”

Stefan paused as he pulled out a chilled can of orange juice and met her gaze. “I’ve never needed to embellish my successes.”

“There’s always a first,” she returned and pulled her long bangs behind her ear.

Her ears were naked except for silver studs. It struck him that he would love to see her dripping with Chantaine’s royal family’s jewels … and nothing else. He felt himself grow hard and ground his teeth. On impulse he mixed two drinks at once, then poured the liquid into two glasses filled with ice. Walking from behind the bar, he gave Eve her glass and lifted his. “To a Texas Rose,” he said, “transplanted to Chantaine.”

She clicked his glass with hers and took a sip. “Not bad for a prince,” she said.

Stefan resisted the urge to seduce her to lie down on one of those white couches and make wild, crazy love with her. “Let’s go outside, Madamoiselle Texas Rose,” he said and guided her to the balcony again.

They stood at the balcony and she sipped her drink, the wind lifting her hair from her shoulders. Stefan slid his arm around her waist. “You’re homesick,” he said. “What do you miss most?”

“You weren’t supposed to notice,” she said, giving a soft smile as she looked at him. “I was trying not to let it show.”

“You didn’t answer my question. What do you miss most?” he asked.

“The familiarity, my aunt, barbecue. This isn’t my turf,” she said.

“It will be,” he said. “It won’t take long. Chantaine is small compared to Texas.”

“But complex and still very foreign to me,” she said.

“That will change soon enough.”

“If you say so,” she said.

The doubt in her voice surprised him. She was usually so confident, so ready to come back at him. “What made you question your ability?”

“Today shook me a little,” she confessed.

“Franz?” he said and gave a short laugh. “He’s a necessary nuisance. This won’t be your last run-in with him.”

She made a face. “I’d like it to be. I didn’t know whether I would be staying or going.”

“You’re too expensive to let go,” he said.

“I feel so much better now,” she said in a dry tone.

“You’re good at what you do. You’re just not accustomed to the way our press works. Just don’t talk to them until you learn the ropes.”

“Who’s going to teach me the ropes? Franz?” she asked with dread in her voice.

“No. My assistant or me. You can always call him,” he said. “You can always call me.” He couldn’t remember when he’d told any other woman such a thing.

The band eased into a slow, sensual tune. Stefan’s hands itched to touch her in ways he knew wouldn’t happen tonight. “Dance?” he asked, setting down his glass on one of the tables.

Meeting his gaze, she let him take her glass and do the same with his. Then she walked into his arms, and Stefan sighed at the sensation of her body close to his, where she belonged. He drank in the subtle spice and sweet combination of her scent. Her silky hair skimmed his jaw and her breasts brushed against his chest with each movement.

Holding her eased something inside him at the same time he felt need stretch inside him. He tried to ignore the need and focus on how good she felt. For a full moment, the only sounds were of the sultry song, their hushed breaths and in the background, ocean waves rolling into the surf.

“Have you ever had a more perfect moment than this?” she whispered, lifting her mouth just beneath his ear.

He searched his brain and came up empty. “No,” he murmured, pulling her even closer.

The song finally faded away, and she lifted her head, searching his eyes. The expression of wanting he saw there made his gut twist. The connection between them was shocking in its intensity. He lowered his head and took her mouth in a kiss. She immediately responded, tasting of oranges, bourbon and something forbidden.

Although he was already aroused, he couldn’t resist feeding himself on her mouth. He felt her arms climb around his neck as she kissed him with equal intensity. He slid his own hand to the small of her back, bringing her intimately against him. He wondered if she would pull away. Instead, she wriggled against him. His heart stuttered in his chest.