And she meant it. She had the child she had feared lost forever in her arms, and nothing else mattered much beside that. She would happily put off the inevitable.
The sight of the long limousine with its darkly tinted windows startled her, but she realized she should have known. Royalty was used to traveling in style. She got out of the wheelchair they'd insisted on and into the limo without comment. She even managed not to jump when Joe—no, Lucas, she had to remember that—took her arm to help her into the spacious passenger compartment.
Spacious and luxurious, she amended as she shifted the baby in her arms. She'd refused to relinquish baby Luke to the nanny. She'd expected the woman to protest, but the nanny had only nodded and given her such an understanding and warm smile that Jessie had felt oddly comforted.
She'd been in a limo once, the night of her senior prom. But it hadn't been anything like this. Nothing like the rich, deep pile of the seats, the gleaming fixtures, a small TV screen, a telephone that looked like it could teleconference around the world and a built-in bar with a rack of glasses she would swear were real leaded crystal. She supposed a royal family took such things for granted, but to a girl from the rugged hills of Colorado, it was a different world.
A world she could visit but never live in.
As the countryside began to look familiar, with its memorable landmarks—Big Turtle Rock there, the Aspen Creek bridge over there—the troublesome thoughts faded away. A sense of welcome, of coming home, welled up inside her, burgeoning, growing until there was room for nothing but the joy of returning to the ranch she loved.
"You'll love it on the ranch, baby," she crooned to the bundle in her arms. "It's the most beautiful place in the world. The sky is so clear it feels like you can see forever, and the air is so clean the only thing you smell is the scent of pine trees. And just wait, baby, and you'll have the sweetest little pony—"
She stopped, suddenly aware of the steady gaze of the man sitting across from her. The nurse and the man who had introduced himself as "The prince's—I mean, Mr. Sebastiani's—aide," were looking rather pointedly out the tinted windows, giving them at least the illusion of privacy.
"His name is Luke," Lucas said softly. Then, after a moment's hesitation, he added, "Your sister said you named him, but I suspect that was just another lie."
Jessie fought the tears that threatened whenever she thought of her sister's mad scheming. Once past childhood they'd never been the kind of close, loving siblings she'd always wanted them to be, but she would never have suspected that her glamorous big sister was capable of such treachery.
"No," she said. "I didn't name him. I never had the chance to."
"He's been officially named, now. But if you want to change it—"
"No. Luke is fine. He is your son, after all." She didn't think her voice had an edge, but his expression seemed to tighten. "Officially?" she asked.
"In a ceremony investing him as my heir."
"Oh."
"The full name chosen is Luke Marcus Augustus Sebastiani." She blinked and drew back a little, and he hastened to explain. "After my father and King Augustus, my great-times-about-seven grandfather, the first monarch of Montebello."
"I see."
Her voice had gone cool, she knew, but she couldn't help it. Had she been allowed to name her child, she might well have chosen Luke, but she certainly wouldn't have saddled him with all the rest. Perhaps a middle name of Alexander, after her father, or even Chambers, as a reminder of the other side of his heritage. But now it was done, and it was as if anything outside of his royal lineage was meaningless. And then Lucas spoke again, softly.
"I made a change in that, though."
She lifted her gaze to his face.
"The declaration reads Luke Marcus Augustus Chambers Sebastiani."
The tightness in her chest eased. She wanted to thank him for that much, but the words wouldn't come. She felt almost as if she owed him an apology for what she'd thought, but those words wouldn't come either. Not now.
With a great effort of will, she focused on her baby and the wonderful days just ahead, when she would have him to herself on the ranch, where she could finally, really heal. The peace she found there worked like no other medicine to soothe away her troubles, and she had no doubt it would work again, even after the kind of ordeal she'd been through.
She had so much to learn, she thought. So much to learn about her child, and about being a mother. She felt a twinge of fear, hoping she would be up to the task.
She lifted her head, looked out at the passing landscape, her pulse picking up as she realized they were getting close to home. She could walk it from here, she thought. She had before, when the old ranch truck had finally given out. Even though it was five tough miles, she'd done it. Somehow that made her feel safe, just being within reach of home.
For now she would just try to enjoy it. And try to quash the feeling that she was merely postponing the inevitable.
* * *
Lucas began to have a strange, unsettled feeling as the landscape became more and more familiar. In the months he'd spent on the Chambers ranch, he'd ridden virtually every inch of it, because on horseback and in Jessie's arms were the only places he'd felt sane. The only places where the befuddlement that hung over him didn't seem like the most important thing in the world, and the most insurmountable.
He hadn't had a clue who he was, but he'd known he was at home around horses, that the movement of a powerful mount beneath him was loved and familiar. That he knew the way of thinking that took place behind those liquid-brown eyes, that he knew what would spook them, what would move them, what would charm them. Even Jessie, who had grown up with the animals, had trusted him completely with her valuable string of quarter horses after watching him with them for a single day.
"They know you know them," she had told him. "It's clear they trust you already. Their judgment is good enough for me."
He'd been merely a new hand to her then, and he'd never dreamed he would become anything more, no matter how her quiet strength and courage attracted him. He knew he had no right to even consider it—what woman in her right mind would want to get involved with a man not simply without a past, but with no idea what that past might contain?
Yet over time the pull between them had become irresistible. He'd had the brief thought that it was her loneliness, isolated out here on this ranch, and his own confusion and disorientation that had been part of it, but in the end the unexpected passion they'd found was so fierce no other reasons mattered.
He suppressed a shiver at the memories of night after night spent in a sort of erotic, sensual haze, days spent feeling weary from lack of sleep yet oddly energized, as well, and eagerly awaiting the coming night's replay.
He doubted Jessie was feeling anything of the sort. She was returning to the home she loved, and if it was haunted with memories of their time together, he was sure that was overshadowed by the joy of her return after her ordeal. He would do well to remember that, he thought. Every corner of the place was, to him, a reminder of what they'd found together here. To her, there were many more memories he was no part of, thoughts he would never intrude on. As they rounded the last turn, Lucas leaned forward to be sure the driver didn't miss the boulder that marked the nearly hidden entrance to the ranch. But all the while he was wondering if he would ever again have memories she didn't creep into. Not likely, he told himself.
Chapter 3
The moment Jessie walked into the kitchen, Lucas gave up on what he'd been dwelling on all morning, which was how to convince Jessie that the Playboy Prince didn't exist anymore. With everything that had happened to her, he wasn't sure she'd had enough time to even absorb the fact of who he really was, let alone accept that he was no longer what the gossip rags said he was. He'd only walked back into her life hours ago, after all.
The fact that he himself wasn't certain anymore who and what he was was something he tried not to dwell on. That solid certainty would come back, he was
sure, once he had all the facets of his life in place. He was simply suffering from aftereffects. The doctors had warned him he might feel unsettled for a while.
He hadn't expected the feeling to be so strong, but he decided now that it was because he didn't have this in order yet. Once Jessie and Luke were where they should be, everything else would fall into place. And he was sure that would happen as soon as Jessie was sure he wasn't some spoiled, profligate wastrel, good for nothing except making tabloid headlines. But he would have to move slowly.
Jessie needed time. Time to feel safe again, time to put the nightmare of her abduction and awful captivity, her near death and the kidnapping of her baby behind her.
As much as she could, anyway, he amended, remembering his mother's warning that Jessie might be haunted by those events for a very long time.
Yet looking at her now, she seemed almost unchanged by her ordeal. The woman who walked into the homey, country kitchen looked just like the woman he'd fallen in love with all those months ago. Her long, slender legs were encased in faded blue jeans, and she was wearing one of the long-sleeved T-shirts she favored, soft from many washings. Her long hair was braided into a single, thick, golden plait down her back, the tip nearly brushing the worn leather belt at her waist.
But when he looked closer, he saw the darker circles beneath her eyes, saw that the jeans were a bit loose on her. Whatever weight she'd put on during her pregnancy, she certainly hadn't hung on to any of it. And when she gave him an uncertain smile, he knew she was still very fragile.
Careful, he warned himself yet again.
"Did the nurse check you?" he asked.
"Yes, she did," Jessie said, her mouth quirking. "I seem to have survived my hair-raising excursion in a vehicle that's obviously designed not to allow a single bump in the road to be felt."
"Good," Lucas said, ignoring her wry humor. She might as well get used to being treated properly, because from now on that's the way it was going to be.
Jessie walked quickly to the table, where Eliya sat giving Luke his bottle. She looked at the child hungrily, and Lucas suspected it had been all she could do to be away from the baby long enough to be examined by the nurse he'd hired.
"Do you wish to finish?" Eliya asked her politely.
Jessie hesitated, her gaze flicking to the window that gave them a view out to the barn.
"Take him," Lucas said to Jessie. "Eliya, will you leave us for a moment, please?"
With a quick nod the woman carefully handed over the baby, his blanket and the bottle, and departed. Jessie looked a little startled at the speed with which it had happened, but she sank down into the chair the woman had been using and cuddled her son close as she held the bottle for him.
"You need time with him," Lucas told her when they were alone.
"Yes," she agreed. "I need that." She gave him a hesitant look.
"What is it, Jessie?"
"I'm a little afraid," she admitted. "Of really being a mother to him. I feel like I've got so much to learn, so fast."
"You were always a fast learner," he said. "And you'll have plenty of time."
"But the ranch, I've been gone so long, it needs—"
"I'll take care of the ranch."
Her gaze snapped up to his face. "You?"
"You don't think I can?"
If he'd still been Joe, she wouldn't have doubted it, Lucas thought. She knew he could work hard, that he understood the running of a ranch, and that what he didn't know he'd learn fast.
"I guess I didn't think about it," she said. "But it can't be typical prince's work."
Lucas drew in a compressed breath. "Jessie, I'm the same man I was. Remembering my identity didn't change that."
"Remembering he was the crown prince of Montebellan royalty didn't affect just plain Joe?" she said, disbelief in her voice.
"I didn't say that. I just meant I can still be the man who helped you run this place. So you can not worry, and spend time with Luke."
"Oh." She lowered her gaze to the baby's face, to his tiny hands clutching at the bottle. "You'd do that?"
Lucas swore to himself. He'd known he must have hurt her badly, but he hadn't realized—despite a rather stern warning from his sister Julia—just how badly. But he didn't want to get into it now, not when she was still weak, still fragile. So instead, he gave her a part of the truth he knew she would understand.
"I like this life. There's something about the American West that's always appealed to me."
Jessie frowned. "You mean even before you... landed here by accident?"
He nodded. "I used to read about it, see it in films. Even as a child, I was fascinated by the freedom of it, the incredible openness and space, the sparse population. Montebello is an island, after all, with a finite amount of space. Your West seems... infinite."
"Wide-open spaces," she said.
"Yes. And the people are so different here. No one cares where you were born, or who or what you were, but only what you are now. And if your word and your work are good."
"Joe's work was good," she said wistfully, as if the man she'd known as Joe was still gone, not standing right in front of her.
"When I was here, I used to live in daily dread of being asked questions I couldn't answer," he said quietly. "It took me a very long time to realize that people out here give you the right to keep your secrets, as long as you're not hurting anyone else."
For a long moment she stared at him, and he regretted using those words about hurting anyone when he'd hurt her so much. But finally all she asked was, "Is keeping your secrets so important to you?"
He grimaced. "It's something that was taken away from me the day I was born. The heir to the Montebellan throne is public property, and expected to live for the people first, his country second, the monarchy third, and himself somewhere much further down the line. Trying to keep secrets isn't very wise in that environment."
"You sound like you resent it."
He frowned. "I didn't mean to sound as if I do. And I don't, really. It's who I am, and resenting something you have no choice about is pointless."
But still, her observation made him uncomfortable enough that he excused himself, telling her he would do an assessment of conditions on the ranch and report back to her in a few hours. He didn't want to leave her, not so soon after finding her again, not so soon after he'd thought she was lost to him forever, but he knew she would worry until she was certain the ranch affairs were under control. Her wicked sister had tried to sell off all the animals. Luckily the ranch hands Ursula dismissed had worked together to keep Jessie's prized horses at one of their own small places, and to place the cattle with a nearby rancher who had graciously sold them back when Jessie's story became known.
Lucas was thankful that the hands had suspected something wasn't right and had saved the herd Jessie had worked so hard to breed. He wanted her calm and at peace before he broached the touchy subjects they had yet to deal with. And that was going to take time.
He only hoped he had enough.
* * *
Jessie didn't miss the tension that radiated from Lucas. She knew there were things hovering, things to be discussed, things to be decided. But she was more than happy to put them off. Right now all she wanted to do was hold her baby, learn everything about him, from those perfect little toes to his silken dark hair, and revel in having him back.
She knew the ranch would work its healing magic on her. It had already begun. And thankfully, there weren't many memories of Ursula here. Her sister had hated the place, and had forsaken it long ago, when Jessie was twelve, for the bright lights of city life and dreams of stardom.
Ursula had been bitter beyond Jessie's ability to tolerate when she'd come back from New York after breaking up—Jessie suspected she'd been dumped—with the man she'd claimed was her manager. She'd not found the success she'd dreamed of, and the world—and for some reason her little sister—were to blame. It was as if Ursula had hated her for being content to stay here o
n the ranch, for not having big dreams like Ursula's own.
I wonder if she would have loved we wore if I'd failed at sowething big, too ? Jessica thought.
If Ursula was capable of love at all. Somehow, somewhere, Ursula had changed completely. The sister Jessie had once loved had turned vicious. It was still hard for Jessie to comprehend that Ursula had actually plotted her death so she could feather her own nest by stealing Jessie's baby and using him to curry favor with the Montebellan royal family. Or if that failed, to blackmail them.
"Are you all right, sweetie?"
Mrs. Winstead, who had been the cook and housekeeper at the Chambers's ranch during Jessie's childhood, was a welcome familiar presence after the overwhelming proximity of Lucas and his small entourage.
"I will be," she said, "given time. I'm going to need your help, Mrs. Winstead. I'm terrified of making mistakes with him."
"Well, don't you worry your head, you'll have that," the older woman said brusquely, "and plenty more help if the crew that man has brought in is any indication. I mean, really, I kept this house for twenty-three years, and took care of you, as well. I think I could manage it again until you fully recover."
"He means well," Jessie said, a little surprised at how quickly she jumped to his defense.
"Joe would never have taken over like that, ordering people around," Mrs. Winstead pointed out.
Jessie sighed. "No. No, he wouldn't."
Mrs. Winstead sniffed. "I guess finding out he was a prince did that."
"He's changed," Jessie agreed, almost sadly. She couldn't argue Mrs. Winstead's assessment. Joe had changed when he'd become Lucas. He'd changed tremendously. "But it isn't just that... snowplow way he's got now, pushing everything out of his way. It's more than that."
"More?"
Jessie nodded slowly, thinking it through for the first time since the father of her child had strode into her hospital room in all his royal glory.
"He's weighed down, just as he was carrying that awful weight as Joe. But now he's carrying it in a different way. I'm not sure what it is, but it's there."
The Prince's Wedding Page 3