The Prince's Texas Bride Page 11

“Hello, Kerry,” her mother called out, excitement evident in her bright eyes and clasped hands. Although she wore her waitress uniform, she looked very much like one of the group, admiring the man who’d given her an autograph just days before he’d impregnated her daughter. Not that Charlene Jacks knew that little fact. “Look who found his way here for lunch.”

  “What a big surprise,” Jimmy Mack, the hardware store owner, boomed.

  “I’ll say,” Pastor Carl Schleipinger added. Both men stood over Alexi as though guarding him from unwanted intruders.

  “Hello, Kerry,” Alexi said, his arm stretched out across the red vinyl booth. A paper place mat and a glass of iced tea showed that he’d been here for at least several minutes.

  She nodded, unwilling to trust her voice. However, the group didn’t seem to realize she’d come here to meet Alexi. They stood around, smiling, blocking the other side of the booth.

  “If you good people wouldn’t mind, I’d very much like for Kerry to join me.”

  “Oh,” Thelma said, her gray eyebrows raised in speculation.

  “Jimmy Mack, we’d best be getting on with our own lunch,” Pastor Carl said, nudging the portly hardware store owner.

  “What can I get you, sweetie?” Kerry’s mom asked.

  “Just water with lemon for now, Mom. Thanks.”

  As soon as they were alone, Kerry leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize there would be so many people here to ‘greet’ you.”

  “That’s fine. I’m just afraid we won’t have much privacy to talk.”

  “I’ll keep my voice down if you will.”

  “I’m not sure. Can Ms. Rogers of your local newspaper read lips?”

  “I don’t think so,” Kerry replied, smiling despite the serious nature of their meeting.

  Alexi pushed his iced tea aside and leaned forward. “Well, we can always go upstairs.”

  Heat rushed through Kerry at the memories. At the sound of his bedroom voice. At the intense look in his blue, blue eyes. “In your dreams,” she said as flippantly as possible.

  He smiled, one side of his mouth quirking up. “You would be surprised how often I’ve dreamed of that apartment.”

  “Really? Would that be before the vacation in Monaco? Before or after the ski trip to the Alps? Or would that be while you were courting Contessa di Giovanni?”

  “Ouch,” he said. “You’ve apparently been keeping up with the press reports of my life.”

  “Correction, my mother has been keeping up with you. I’ve been listening when I couldn’t get out of the room fast enough.”

  “Ah, Kerry, you wound me. I have been thinking of you.”

  “Save it, Mack. I’m here to discuss our little ‘situation,’ not my feelings about your exploits.”

  “From what you’ve told me so far, I’m not sure you can put aside one for the other.”

  “Trust me, I’m going to try.”

  “I do trust you, Kerry,” he said, leaning forward once more and speaking softly. “I trust you to do what’s best for our child.”

  Before she could come up with a good comeback, her mother returned to take their order.

  Alexi ordered the daily special—chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes and Texas toast—while Kerry’s stomach revolted at the idea of such heavy food. She chose a club sandwich with chips and no pickle. Unlike some pregnant women, she hadn’t developed a craving for pickles…especially not teamed up with ice cream.

  “You mentioned that I’d never called you after I left in May, but I thought it was for the best,” he said as soon as her mother left. “If I couldn’t offer you a real relationship, I thought it best to cut our ties completely. I couldn’t imagine talking to you occasionally, knowing how much I wanted to be with you, and not acting on my desire.”

  “That sounds wonderful, but I have to question whether you really did think of me after you got back to your real world. I mean, the trip to Texas was an…interlude. Maybe you felt differently when you got back home. When you started back into your real life.”

  “My feelings for you haven’t changed,” he said, then sat upright and smiled as his salad was delivered.

  Kerry felt very frustrated. Alexi had made some remarkable claims about his feelings, but none of them could be substantiated. She wanted proof that he’d thought of her. Proof that the feelings they’d expressed to each other before he left were real, not just a product of the moment or an afterglow of the fantastic intimacy they’d shared.

  He took a few bites, then pushed the bowl aside. “You’ve had two months to come to terms with your…condition. I just found out. I know you don’t completely trust me at the moment, but please, give me a chance.”

  “But how, Alexi? How can you go back for those three months and prove that you were thinking of me? I’ve already turned down your rather high-handed proposal. And now that you know I won’t marry you just for the baby, you say that you’ve wanted me all along. I’m sorry to distrust you, but that just sounds too convenient.”

  “Believe me, nothing about this situation is convenient, not for any of us.”

  She noticed her mother coming out of the kitchen, carrying a tray of food and beaming, so happy to have a real live prince here in the restaurant.

  Kerry wasn’t happy. She was confused and hurt. Because no matter how she looked at the situation, there was one indisputable fact. She hadn’t been good enough to be Alexi’s princess before she got pregnant, and no one would believe she was good enough now. She’d always be the poor, small-town girl who trapped him into marriage.

  She’d always know she was second best, outclassed in the eyes of royal society by a contessa who, by Hank’s account, was lovely, polished, beautiful and…tall. Just like a real princess was supposed to be. Just like Kerry would never be.

  ALEXI FELT his frustration level rise as they finished lunch—not that either of them had managed to consume much for the palpable tension in the air—and made their excuses to Charlene Jacks and a plethora of others to whom he’d been reintroduced. Three months ago he’d met some of the people at the reception given in his honor at the Four Square Café, but he’d been in a turmoil then, too. What was it about Kerry that turned his usually logical brain to mush?

  Unfortunately, nothing else was the slightest bit “mushy.” Despite her rebuff of his proposal, despite the fact she was pregnant, he still wanted her. Rather desperately, as a matter of fact. Convincing her to marry him would give him the advantage of husbandly rights, or whatever sharing a bed was now called.

  When they walked into the sunlight, the heat hit him like the smack of a large, thick piece of lumber. Whack! How did these Texans stand it? In Belegovia the temperatures were mild, around eighty degrees. When the sun set behind the mountains to the west, there was a decided chill. Nights were good for snuggling, small fires in the hearth or candlelight playing off the walls.

  “Where are you staying?” Kerry asked as they strolled along the covered sidewalk.

  “I came here directly from the airport. I haven’t made arrangements yet. Can you suggest a place?”

  “London?” she quipped.

  “A bit closer, perhaps,” he replied, hiding a smile. She might be pregnant and suffer from morning sickness, but she hadn’t lost her sense of humor. “I’d prefer a hotel, but a motel would be fine, as long as it’s clean.”

  “We don’t have any hotels or motels in Ranger Springs.”

  “You don’t?”

  “Alexi, have you lost your hearing in the past three months? Because you keep repeating my statements in the form of a question.”

  He glared at her as she stopped in front of her car. Beatrice looked fine, all shiny and well cared for. Of course, she didn’t have Delores’s fake fur car seat covers, nor did she have that well-driven look of a 100,000-mile car. “Do you miss Delores?” he asked.

  “Not really. She was a good car, but I like this one, too. And you’re changing the subject.”


  “My hearing is fine, thank you very much for asking. I’m just a bit incredulous about this whole trip. My mind is reeling. As I mentioned, you’ve had three months—”

  “Two,” she corrected. “I’ve only known for almost two months.”

  “Whatever,” he said, waving his hand in dismissal. She wanted to defend her decision to keep the news from him, but he was still not happy about her actions. He deserved to know he’d fathered a child. He wanted to share the experience with Kerry, not be an insignificant bystander. “You’re familiar with the…situation. I’m not. And until we can come to an agreement,” he said, knowing he meant that until she agreed to his proposal, “we can’t move forward.”

  “Speak for yourself. This baby is growing whether we agree on anything or not.”

  He felt his eyes widen, then he frowned. Was she trying to drive him mad? If so, she was doing a good job, reminding him how ineffectual he’d been so far in making her come to her senses.

  He decided not to try to reason with her anymore for the moment. He needed time, and time meant he needed a place to stay. He’d noticed that Kerry hadn’t offered to share her apartment. And, although the apartment over the café held fond memories, it wasn’t air-conditioned or completely furnished.

  He wondered if any of the old condoms in that nightstand drawer were still there, waiting for the next unsuspecting user.

  “Do you have a suggestion on where I can stay?”

  Kerry sighed. “Robin Parker has opened a bed-and-breakfast over her antique store.” She shielded her eyes and pointed across the square. The building looked like an old movie theater, except instead of posters, the display cases sported antique fabrics, lace and other decorative objects. He believed the style was called “shabby chic.” At least, that’s what his sister had told him when he’d remarked on the “old, worn-out furniture” he’d seen in a friend’s house in England.

  “I’m sure she has a room available. I haven’t heard of any visitors to town. Most people don’t take a vacation in Ranger Springs when it’s this hot.”

  “Will you go there with me to meet Ms. Parker?”

  “Sure. I like Robin. She’s the wife of our chief of police, so make sure you walk the straight and narrow while you’re there.”

  “I’ll be on my best behavior,” he promised, which might not mean much to Kerry. Apparently in the past three months, she’d developed a poor opinion of him. He didn’t remember any severe criticism of his actions while they were together, yet now she found him irresponsible, with the potential for frat-boy antics.

  They crossed the street, then walked past the bank. He wanted to talk to Kerry, as they’d done so easily before, but there seemed to be a barrier between them. The trip they had shared had seemed ages ago—almost another lifetime. Since returning to Belegovia, he’d tried to throw himself into his duties and goals. He assumed Kerry had done the same things, since she’d been so excited about her new job. Going back to that carefree time seemed impossible, but going forward was proving difficult, as well.

  He’d naively thought that he’d come to Texas, propose, sweep Kerry off her feet and whisk her back to Belegovia to begin her new life as a princess. Now he realized that his plan was far too simple; he hadn’t taken Kerry’s feelings for her new life into consideration, nor had he considered she’d be averse to marrying him.

  The air-conditioned interior of the store rushed out to meet them when he opened the door for Kerry. He followed her into the fragrant interior. Candles and that mixture of dried things women loved to put in bowls around the house, he supposed.

  “Kerry, how are you?” a cute woman with honey-blond hair and stylishly casual clothing greeted them, her hands full of silk flowers.

  “Fine, Robin. My friend here needs a room,” Kerry said, some of her good humor returning.

  “Hello, Your Highness,” she said, walking forward and dusting her hands on a denim apron. “I believe we met at the reception.”

  “Yes, I remember. Please, call me Alexi. It’s good to see you again. I need a room for an indeterminate period of time.”

  Robin looked surprised, glancing between the two of them. Had she bought into the story they’d spun of Hank and Kerry taking off together three months ago, or did she know the truth? “I have two rooms. Both of them are available. Would you like to take a look?”

  “Yes, thank you,” Alexi said, relieved that he’d at least have a place to sleep until he could make Kerry see reason. He had no intention of allowing his child to be born out of wedlock.

  “Here are the keys,” Robin said, handing them to Kerry. “I can’t leave the shop right now, so take your time and decide which one is more to your choosing. I think I know,” she said with a wink, “but you might have another idea.”

  They climbed the stairs behind the counter. Alexi could tell the steps had once led to the balcony, when this had been a theater. Original lighting cast a dim glow on the vintage red walls.

  Upstairs, more old-fashioned lights installed from the ceiling lighted the hallway along the balcony railing. Walls had been built where seats had once faced toward a screen below. Now the scene consisted of rows of antiques and decorative items.

  “Robin has really done a lot with this old theater,” Kerry commented, unlocking one of the doors.

  The room was decorated in shades of rose, pink and green. Flounces, lace and frills adorned almost every fabric surface. Ornate furniture and gilded accents screamed “feminine” from the rafters of this old building.

  “How beautiful,” Kerry said in awe. They walked farther into the room, which had a cozy, equally feminine bathroom and Jacuzzi tub. Even the smell was…frilly.

  “I wonder which one of the European paparazzi stayed in this room—the camouflage guy or the polyester cigarette smoker?”

  Kerry laughed. “Either one would have been grossly out of place. Let’s take a look at the other room.”

  They closed and locked the door, then entered the next room. This one was done in cowboy décor—obviously a tribute to the Old West. Rustic lumber, cow-patterned accents and bandanna material gave this space a masculine appeal. “Now, this is more like it,” Alexi said. “I might feel like your friend Hank in here.”

  “Robin obviously has a sense of humor,” Kerry stated. “As if there was any doubt which room you’d choose.”

  “Perhaps she thought you were staying here with me.”

  “Perhaps that’s just wishful thinking on your part.”

  “I’m always wishful where you’re concerned,” he said, reaching for her.

  She stepped around a big denim chair, eluding his grasp. “If I didn’t know how busy you’ve been, I might be tempted to believe you.”

  He gazed into her eyes and stalked around the chair. “I think it should be obvious to anyone, especially an astute observer like Mrs. Parker, that I’m very tempted by you.”

  Kerry breathed deeply, unsure how much longer she’d be able to resist his persistence…and his proposal.

  Chapter Eight

  Kerry gave a breathless, nervous chuckle. “She doesn’t know anything about us, so I don’t see how she’d come to that conclusion.”

  “Will she know soon?” he asked, stepping in front of Kerry so he could look into her eyes. His hands lightly rested on her shoulders to keep her from turning away again. “I want everyone to know the child you’re carrying is mine, not some faceless stranger’s baby. Not your Hank McCauley’s.”

  “I’m not ready to tell everyone yet. I haven’t even told my mother and sisters!”

  “Then let’s tell them together. Tonight, or tomorrow. Let me take the family to dinner, wherever you’d like, and we’ll break the news.”

  “Alexi, I just don’t know.”

  “Surely you’ve been thinking about telling them.”

  “Of course, but I haven’t decided how. No matter how I visualize the scene, I can see disappointment.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and frowned. Then, with
a sigh, she continued. “My sister Carole ran off when she was just a teenager and had a baby with a would-be country-western star. That’s my niece, Jennifer. We all love her, of course, but I remember how difficult the situation was for my sister, who was married for just a few months. And for my mother. She felt as though she’d failed Carole. Like if she’d been a better mother, this wouldn’t have happened. That wasn’t true, of course. My mom is great. But now she has another pregnant daughter, and I know that’s going to hurt.”

  “Then that’s one more reason we should get married.”

  Kerry shook her head. “As much as I love my family, I’m not getting married to make them feel better, just like I’m not going to marry you just because you think it’s the most expeditious thing to do.”

  “It’s the right thing to do.”

  “Right for you, maybe,” she said, raising her chin. “I’m not sure it’s right for me or the baby.”

  Alexi sighed and dropped his hands. “What can I do to convince you we should be together? I know I left three months ago, but you understand why. At the time, I didn’t think we had a future. You were so excited about starting your new life. I felt it would be best to select someone from Europe to become the princess bride my father wanted me to select. But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have pursued you had the situation been different.”

  “You mean if you’d been a regular guy.”

  “Exactly.” He was glad she was finally seeing his point of view.

  “So what has changed? You’re not a regular guy now. You’re still a prince. I’m not a truck stop waitress any longer, but I’m still a small-town Texas girl, the daughter of a waitress and a runaway father. I’m hardly princess material.”

  “I may still be a prince, but first of all, I’m a man. Soon to be a father. And I take my responsibilities seriously. One of those is to acknowledge and care for my child.”

  Kerry sighed and sat down in an overstuffed chair upholstered in denim, pillowcase ticking and red gingham checks. “I know, and I’m not trying to deny you access to your child. I even understand why you’re excited about becoming a father.”