A Royal Mess: A Royal Mess / Her Knight To Remember. Jill Shalvis
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of a cow, he supposed he’d rescue this drowned-looking woman. “So…is it a go?” He shielded his eyes from the now even heavier rain soaking them. “Are you coming with me?”
A gold eyebrow vanished into her hair as she regarded him with mistrust.
“Not for whatever you’re thinking,” he added quickly.
Another sharp jag of lightning lit the sky, with thunder too quick on its heel for comfort. “You can clean yourself up,” he said, wanting out of the damn rain. “Get some food and sleep. Then maybe…I don’t know…look for work.”
“Work,” she repeated, as if the idea had never occurred to her. “Hmm. Interesting. Do you have a job opening?”
“I’m hiring right now for a cook and a ranch hand.” To replace the ranch hand he planned on firing if he—Josh—was still boinking his baby sister.
Which reminded him to wonder if Sally was still mad at him. Actually, that particular worry was just a waste of time.
Knowing Sally, she was still mad.
Too bad. His parents had wanted him to take care of her, and loyally bound, he would, even if she’d be twenty this year. He would take care of her, or die trying.
Which was a far more likely result of his efforts.
Impatient to be home, he looked the woman over. She appeared to be in good health, other than her general inability to face reality. Her gold hair now clung to her face. Her leather had shrink-wrapped itself to her very curvy body. Not that he was noticing.
Much.
“A job,” she repeated, tapping her lower lip. “You know, that might work just fine.”
He tried to picture her in denim. “Ever been on a ranch?”
“Oh, of course.”
Of course.
“Once on holiday we stopped at a petting farm.”
He blinked, then shook his head. “How about cooking? Can you cook?”
She swiped at the water running into her face. “You mean, for other people?”
“No, for the queen of England.”
Her mouth tightened. “Now you’re making fun again. Why does everyone use poor Elizabeth as a joke?”
“Can you?”
“Cook? Of course.”
There was that “of course” again. Ah hell, she probably couldn’t cook. He tipped up his hat. “It’s raining pretty hard,” he said, hoping to rush things along a bit.
“I don’t have a change of clothing,” she said, brow furrowed. “I like to have lots of things with me.”
He pulled his wet shirt away from his body with a suction noise and winced as it slapped back against his skin. “I’m going to get back into my truck, princess. Down the road is a store. If you’d like, you can borrow some cash and make some purchases. But I doubt they have black leather.”
“I can try something new. I like new.”
“Yeah? Well, you might have a choice between blue denim and dark blue denim.”
“I know how to wear jeans.”
“Then let’s go.”
She cocked her head. “You are like the cowboys from the old West. Chivalrous. Kind.”
“No,” he said, backing up. “Anyone would do this.”
“You’re wrong. I think you’re special. Different.”
Different as insane. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?” Or on medication? “Or that there’s no one I can call for you?”
“Nope. I just wanted to do this one thing, travel by myself. It’s a first and I’ve bungled it horribly.” She scooped back fistfuls of her hair and it stuck straight up again. “I’ll earn my own money this time.”
She was going to come with him. He opened the passenger door, put his hand to the small of her back and touched bare skin. Not wanting to feel the odd shock of awareness, he gently nudged, not knowing whether he was unnerved or relieved that she climbed in.
“You’re not an ax murderer, right?” she asked.
Unnerved, he decided. Definitely, he was unnerved. “No.”
“I’ve never hitchhiked before.” She looked around inside his truck, probably searching for something obvious. Like body parts. “Contrary to what you must think of me, I don’t take this lightly.”
“You’re safe.”
“I bet that’s what all the bad guys say.”
“But I’m like Clint Eastwood, remember?”
She actually laughed. Laughed. A sweet, bubble of a laugh, that in return made him grin like an idiot.
She carefully settled in as if she was indeed a little princess, and hooked up her seat belt, dripping water everywhere. “You wouldn’t, by any chance, just take me to Taos?”
“Sorry, princess. Do you know how far away that is? I’ve got a ranch that needs my attention. I’ve been gone for a few days myself.” God only knew how his sister had fared in his absence. Forget Sally. How had everyone else fared? “But say the word, and I’ll call someone for you. Anyone, anywhere.”
“No, thank you. I’ll be your cook, at least for a few days.”
“Not just my cook,” he corrected. “But for all the ranch employees as well.”
She put a confident smile on her face he wasn’t sure was real or forced. “So…how many people is that?”
Forced, he decided. Great. “Depends on how many people quit while my sister was in charge,” he said grimly, and drove.
FOR SEVERAL YEARS Natalia had been having dreams. Dreams wondering what the real world was like. Dreams about being a woman first and a princess second.
She was quite certain Timothy Banning didn’t believe a word she’d said about herself or her heritage, but that was fine. She didn’t need him to believe.
In fact, his disbelief worked in her favor, because for the first time ever, her dream could come true, if only for a few days.
She could be a woman first.
And a princess a very distant second.
“How much farther is your ranch?” she asked, avidly soaking up the landscape. She appeared to be stranded in a desert of grass, grass and more grass. North-central Texas was, without a doubt, one of the flattest places she’d ever seen. So different from her home, which was nestled high in the mountains, between Austria and Switzerland, surrounded by incredible vistas and wild forests.
She thought she’d miss home, but this land was beautiful, too, in a stark sort of way. The terrain was broken up by a few trees here and there, pecan and oak, it appeared. Very different.
She liked it.
“About forty-five more miles.” They’d already made the requested stop at the store, and he’d been right. No leather. But she’d borrowed against her wages and on top of the jeans and T-shirts, had managed to find some interesting wild-apple-green lip gloss, so the whole thing hadn’t been a waste. Now her cowboy looked suddenly tense, as if he regretted taking her with him.
“I’m not crazy or dangerous or anything,” she said. “Just so you know. I wouldn’t hurt anyone on your ranch.”
That made him grin, and oh, my, it was a very appealing one. Slow and easy. Sure and sexy. His teeth were white and straight, except for a crooked eyetooth, which somehow made him look mischievous when he showed it. His face, lean and angular, looked tanned