The Prince's Texas Bride. Victoria Chancellor
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They emerged into the bright morning sunlight. The newly cleaned Land Rover with their Texas driver, Pete Boedecker, and Alexi’s man, Milos Anatole, stood ready at the door.
“We’re off to San Antonio, Mr. Boedecker,” Gwendolyn announced. She stood beside the vehicle door, waiting for Alexi to enter first, as was his right. He still had a hard time remembering to observe the formality when he was in the States. He’d lived in Boston for five years, never once failing to act courteously to women—most of whom knew him only as Alex.
Just when he was getting ready to enter the vehicle, a loud compact car, partly blue and partly rusted, pulled up beside them. Milos immediately stepped in front of him, but as soon as Alexi saw who was driving the disreputable automobile, he smiled.
“It’s okay, Milos. I don’t think the young woman is going to abduct me.”
“Prince Alexi,” Kerry called out breathlessly, “I almost forgot to ask you for a big favor.”
“What is that, Miss Jacks?”
“My mother is a huge fan of all the European royalty,” she explained as she stepped out and walked around her sorry excuse for a car. “If she found out I’d met you and didn’t get her an autograph, she’d tan my bottom.”
The image of Kerry Lynn Jacks’s firm, round bottom popped into his mind and wouldn’t leave. Not that he wanted to “tan” her, but he would like a peek at what was hidden by her jeans.
“What would you like me to autograph?” he asked, straight-faced.
She handed him an envelope from the truck stop and a pen that had been chewed on the plastic end. “Would you make it out to Charlene Jacks, please?” Kerry asked, peering at the paper he held as though she didn’t trust him to give a proper autograph.
He smiled. “Of course. Are you going home now?” he asked, to make conversation while he worded an appropriate message.
“No, I’m on my way to Galveston.”
“Galveston!” He looked up, remembering the island from his check of the map before his trip to Texas. “Surely not in—”
“Now, don’t say anything rude about Delores,” Kerry admonished with a grin. “She may be old, but she’s been real good to me for the past eight years. We’ve been through a lot together.”
“Really?” Alexi wondered if any of those memories involved the back seat of the aging vehicle, but a quick glance inside confirmed his suspicions. The back seat was too small for any decent-size man.
“I don’t want to demean Delores, but perhaps you should reconsider driving all that way. Surely you’re not going alone?”
“I am. My mother is working and my sisters are busy. I have to be back on Saturday for my college graduation ceremony, but I’m going to see my aunt and uncle. I’m getting my aunt’s mother’s car. It’s in real good shape—only twenty-one thousand miles and not a dent or a scratch.”
“I see.” College graduation? How old was Kerry? She’d appeared several years older than an undergraduate. “What type of degree?”
“My bachelor’s in business. It’s taken me ten years, but I’m finally finished.”
Alexi breathed a sigh of relief. At least he hadn’t been lusting after a twenty-one-year-old. Kerry was at least twenty-seven or twenty-eight—just a few years younger than his age of thirty.
“Your Highness,” Gwendolyn said, warning him she was serious by the use of his title, “we really must be going.”
“Lady Gwendolyn, I’ve just learned this young lady is driving all the way to Galveston by herself in this rather questionable automobile. Surely I can’t let that pass.”
“Surely you must, Your Highness,” she insisted.
Alexi laughed. “How far is this trip of yours?”
“In hours, I’d say around six or so.”
“Six hours in Delores,” he said, turning to Gwendolyn. “That seems rather unfortunate, don’t you think?”
Gwendolyn tugged on his sleeve. When he leaned down, she whispered fiercely in his ear. “So buy her a bloody ticket on an airplane and let’s be on our way!”
Alexi laughed. “You can’t solve everything with money, Gwennie.”
“Alexi Ladislas,” she whispered, reverting to the tone of voice she’d used when she was peeved with him, “forget any idea that might be forming in your head.”
“I can’t imagine what you’re talking about.”
“I can see you’re busy,” Kerry said with a sigh. “Thanks for the autograph. My mother will be so proud.”
“Just a moment, Kerry,” Alexi said.
“Alexi, no!”
He smiled down at Gwendolyn. “This is fate, don’t you think? If that soft drink hadn’t exploded. If we hadn’t stopped in this particular place.”
“Fate is sticking to your schedule. Who knows what momentous events await you in San Antonio?”
“I’ve never been to Galveston.”
“You’ve never been to San Antonio, either!”
“Yes, but Galveston has a beach.” He turned to Kerry. “It does have a beach, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” she answered, obviously confused. “Galveston is actually an island.”
“Ah, you see, an island. You do remember how I love the islands. Besides, all my important meetings are complete. Relax for a few days, Gwennie. You need a holiday as much as I do.”
“Alexi, don’t!”
“I must, dear Gwendolyn.” He turned to Kerry. “As a gentleman, I cannot allow you to make the treacherous trip alone. It would be my honor to accompany you to Galveston in your faithful steed, Delores.”
KERRY COULDN’T BELIEVE she was driving State Road 46 toward Interstate 10 with a genuine prince. He was sitting on the passenger side, his backside resting on her Wal-Mart imitation leopard-print car seat cover, looking as though he were having the time of his life. The wind blew his brown hair across his forehead and plastered the Western shirt he’d bought in the truck stop to his chest. His really nice, impressively muscular chest.
She was usually a good judge of character, but Prince Alexi had poleaxed her from the moment she’d kissed him, so she might not be thinking straight.
She almost moaned aloud. Jeez, she’d kissed a prince! She still couldn’t believe she’d done that. The only explanation she could come up with was that today was her last day as a waitress. She’d said goodbye to her fellow waitresses and regular customers, all emotional about this change in her life, including her college graduation on Saturday. Then a prince walked into her life. And not just any prince, but one who was so good-looking he made her eyeballs hurt.
She wanted to watch him instead of the road, inhale his scent instead of the dusty highway breeze, and most of all, she wanted to kiss him again. Which was crazy. She had to keep reminding herself that he was a prince.
Why was he sitting in her aging Toyota? If he’d wanted to see Galveston, why hadn’t he hopped on a jet or into his fancy Land Rover? Why would he care if she drove there in Delores when he didn’t even know her?
“What kind of music do you like?” he asked, reaching for her radio.
“Almost everything but rap,” she replied. “It might be hard to pick up a station between towns, but I have a CD player. CDs are in the back seat, in that black zippered case.”
“You have a CD player?”
She glanced