It was Joe who had loved her. And it was Joe she had loved. Lucas, she wasn't at all sure about.
Her head began to whirl with it all; it seemed no matter which way she looked at it, it was an unsolvable conundrum. The only thing she was positive of was that she didn't want her son to grow up with no choices about his life's path.
She decided to do the one thing that always helped her think—be around horses. She ran to her room, changed into jeans, and headed for the stables. She took the path on foot, figuring the exercise wouldn't hurt her; she was used to long, work-filled days, and she hadn't had that here. Maybe she could ask if there was something she could do around the stable; she felt useless and lazy with no work to do.
She began to trot in her eagerness to get to the horses. She rounded the curve and started down the hill, then looked up to see if the stable complex was as wonderful as she remembered. And saw that someone was riding the black Arab in the paddock.
Lucas.
She couldn't really see the rider's face from here, but nevertheless she knew it was him. There was simply something about his easy, graceful way of riding that was obvious to her practiced eye.
She slowed to a walk, watching the duo work, first in long circles along the fence, then in an elongated figure eight across the middle of the enclosure, with the stallion doing a graceful, perfectly executed flying change of leads at the cross point. She stopped a few yards away, not wanting them to see her and stop. Because for a moment, one sweet, precious moment, it was like watching Joe again.
But then reality took over the image, and she saw the English-style saddle that looked tiny next to the Western stock saddles she was used to, and the refined riding attire he was wearing, so unlike the jeans and Western shirts Joe had worn, and that she was used to.
The stallion moved with a grace and power to match his rider. The two together were an overpowering picture, and when the image blurred, it took Jessie a moment to realize her eyes were brimming with tears.
She didn't know what to do. The choice before her seemed so ugly—risk losing her son, or spend her life in a marriage of convenience that was convenient for only one of them.
She couldn't deny the physical attraction between them. It would be foolish to. But neither could she convince herself of what she'd hoped after that night they'd spent making love under the Colorado sky, that there was more to this than a simple business proposition, that he didn't just want to marry her because she was the mother of his child and it would make things—the succession in particular—so much simpler.
She tried not to kid herself that it was anything else. And she had all those long, lonely nights when he could have come back to her but hadn't, to convince her it wasn't.
If it hadn't been for Luke, she thought, she wouldn't even be here. Lucas would have kept the clean break, never to walk back into her life again.
She blinked to clear her vision. When the swimming stopped, it seemed she had cleared it in more ways than one. As she looked down at the richly appointed stables, at the pure wealth demonstrated there, she saw that Lucas truly belonged here. He was part of this picture, as Joe could never have been. This was his life, his way of life, and it was no wonder he wouldn't trade it for the quiet, laborious life she lived. It was the life she loved, but she couldn't see someone who had grown up with all this—
Her thoughts broke off as she realized he'd seen her. He had the black horse sidling up to the gate in the fence, nudging it open. Just as she'd taught him to do back at the ranch, where opening and closing gates was crucial.
She wondered if she had time to turn and get away, and avoid this encounter. But he sent the black toward her at a lope, and she knew she might as well stay here, since the horse would eat up the short distance between them in a matter of seconds. With a sigh, she stayed put. Her horsewoman's eye automatically focused on the black.
He was as beautiful as she remembered, she thought as they neared her. She'd always thought of Arabians as flashy, showy, but delicate. This horse made that a lie; he was fit, strong, and looked as if he could run forever and then start over again. He looked light after the bulky, brawny cow horses she was used to, but he was no less powerful. It was simply a different kind of power, designed by nature for the long haul, not the short, dramatic explosions of power of the quarter horse.
"Come for a ride with me?" were the first words out of Lucas's mouth. "I'm sure we can find a horse you'll like."
Being alone with him was not high on her list of things she wanted just now, not with the tangle of emotion and reality and longing she was feeling. But the temptation of being on a horse again was more than she could resist.
So a few minutes later, the black tied and patiently—for a stallion—waiting outside, they were walking into the huge, airy barn. And within less than a minute, a uniformed groom skidded to a halt in front of them.
"May I help you, Your Highness?"
The royal appellation still rattled Jessie, but Lucas merely nodded. "We need a second horse, Mario."
The groom nodded. "For the lady? There's that lovely little bay mare, or—"
The man stopped when Lucas held up a hand. "She's been riding since before she could walk, Mario. I don't want to bore her."
A wide grin flashed over the man's face. "Ghost?"
Lucas smiled. "That's more like it. She will do nicely, thank you."
As the groom trotted away, Jessie gave him a sideways look. "Back home, when a new hand shows up, we give him the toughest horse in the stable to try out."
He grinned. "I know. I carried the bruises from that big piebald of yours for days."
The boys had indeed put the newcomer through his paces, graining up Buddy until he was nearly coming out of his skin before they led the big paint out for Joe to climb aboard.
"But you won everybody's respect. You had old Buddy stepping out like a dressage champion."
"After getting thrown three times," Lucas said wryly.
"That's why they respected you," Jessie told him.
"I promise you this horse won't throw you. She's got the spirit of her sire," he said, gesturing toward where the black was tied outside, "but the loving nature of her dam, who sadly died giving birth to her."
The minute she looked at the lovely dapple-gray mare with the intelligent, gentle eyes, delicate face and flowing mane and tail, Jessie fell in love. It went against everything she believed in, all the years of finding the best horses in some of the most unlikely—and unprepossessing—packages, to fall in love with a pretty face, but nevertheless, she did.
And it seemed, after a few moments of inspection, the feeling was mutual. The mare sniffed at her hand, then her hair, and pronounced her acceptable with a soft whicker. By the time Jessie finished rubbing beneath the horse's jaw, and puffing air at her nose, the bond was complete, and Ghost nuzzled Jessie eagerly.
She wasn't used to the English saddle, but she'd ridden on them a few times in her life, and the adjustments necessary came back quickly. It felt odd to have a groom beside her, adjusting stirrup length and checking the cinch—or girth, she supposed, on this rig—for her, but simply being astride a horse again was worth just about any price.
For one used to the wilds of Colorado, this ride over exquisitely groomed grounds on carefully maintained paths seemed tame. But when they reached a straight stretch and Lucas signaled this was a good place to let them run, she gloried in the gray's smooth, effortless stride, and the pure joy in running the horse transmitted to her through the reins. The black loped alongside them, but she was fairly sure Lucas was keeping him in check to keep from outpacing them. The mare was fast, but Jessie doubted she could match the black.
When she felt the all-out charge begin to slow, Jessie gradually reined the mare in. Lucas slowed the black, as well, and although the stallion made a brief protest with a toss of his head, he gave in and settled into a walk easily enough.
Exhilarated, Jessie smiled broadly at Lucas. "Thank you," she said, meanin
g it with all her heart.
"It's not good for you not to be on a horse for too long," he said.
"Thank you, doctor," she said with a laugh. "I like your medicine."
For a moment it looked as if he was going to say something serious, and she held her breath, waiting for him to ruin this special moment by bringing up what she didn't want to talk about just now.
He didn't do it. Instead, he led the way toward the sea.
When they reached a narrow, less defined trail along the cliffs, she couldn't deny the vast panorama of the sparkling Mediterranean before them, as breathtaking in its own way as her beloved Rockies. A salt-tanged breeze blew up the cliff face toward them, stirring her hair and the gray's mane.
"Is this all your land?" she asked, gesturing toward the cliffs, then back in the direction of the palace.
"Yes. This entire tip of the island. It's been part of the palace grounds since it was built. So while we don't have your acreage, we don't feel cramped, either."
"Does being on an island ever seem...."
"Isolated?" he asked when she didn't finish. "Sometimes. But that's as often a good thing as bad. We avoid some problems other countries can't. And we can be in a major hub of the world in a fairly short time, so no, it rarely bothers us."
She wondered if he was aware he'd answered in the plural, as if he spoke for all Montebellans. And then she realized that he probably did. As their prince, if he was the kind of leader his father seemed to be, he would know how the people felt.
"Now that you've seen the palace and most of the grounds, I'd like to show you the rest of Montebello," Lucas said.
This was what she'd come for, what she'd agreed to, so Jessie made herself nod and say, "All right." "And tonight," Lucas said, "you'll get the chance to meet Julia and Rashid. They're flying in for dinner." Panic flooded her at the thought. It was too much. Dinner with a king, a queen, two princes and a princess? She
was plain old Jessie Chambers, of Shady Rock, Colorado. She had no business sitting down with royalty. That this was hardly the view of an egalitarian citizen of the U.S., who supposedly shouldn't see anything
special about royalty at all, didn't escape her. But it did nothing to ease her panic.
* * *
She was as skittish as a newborn foal with a predator circling, Lucas thought.
He'd tried to tell her no one in his family had bitten anyone in decades, tried to calm her by saying it was not a formal occasion but just a small family dinner in the breakfast room that she liked so much. It didn't seem to help much. And just when he'd almost gotten her calmed by telling her anything she wanted to wear was fine, Rashid's helicopter buzzed the palace and settled on the lawn, setting her off again.
Finally he left her to dress, figuring he was only making things worse by hovering. So instead, he went downstairs to greet his sister and brother-in-law.
Julia looked radiant. So radiant, Lucas wondered if perhaps his sister was pregnant again. His nephew, Omar, was ten months old now, and the way she and Rashid still acted like newly weds....
He stopped his own thoughts as a rueful realization struck him. He'd always looked upon displayed marital bliss with rather smug amusement, certain such a thing would never happen to him, that he would never become so besotted with a woman. And yet he had flown over twelve thousand miles to get Jessie and bring her here, and he was about out of his mind with worry that she wasn't ever going to change her mind.
Perhaps, he thought wryly, this was his payment for all those years of finding amusement at the expense of others.
"And what, dear brother, is on your mind to make you look so serious?" Julia asked gaily.
"Payback," Lucas muttered.
"Spoken like a man getting his just desserts, I think they call it," Rashid said.
It still took Lucas a bit of adjusting to remember this man was no longer the enemy. Coming home had been shock enough, coming home to find the ancient feud ended and his sister married to Rashid Kamal had almost been more than he could fathom. But his parents had insisted Julia was deliriously happy, and the first time he'd seen her after his return, it had only taken one look at her to know it was the absolute truth. And for that alone, Lucas welcomed the man in the beginning, but he'd come to like and respect Rashid in his own right as he'd gotten to know him better.
And now he saw a devilish glint in his brother-in-law's dark eyes, and knew Rashid had guessed the trouble was female.
"We shall talk later, eh, my brother-in-law? Perhaps I can help."
"Help?" Lucas asked.
Rashid looked at his wife, and the emotion that leapt between them was almost palpable. "I had to propose to Julia many times before she finally saw the wisdom of saying yes."
"Then perhaps," Julia said archly, "my brother should speak to me, to learn why I changed my mind."
"Right now," Lucas said frankly, "I'll take whatever help I can get. She is one stubborn American."
"There are those who would say that is a redundancy," Rashid replied. "Among them your very own sister and the two Dukes Sebastiani."
"Not to mention two of your own siblings, as well," Julia pointed out to her husband.
Lucas chuckled despite his worry. It was true, the Sebastiani and Kamal families were now as intertwined with Americans as they were with each other, and had been with the British before. They had truly become multinational. And he couldn't deny the energy and fresh viewpoints the new family members had brought with them. And they had reached an accord—even the people of Tamir, who had a greater mistrust of the West, had eventually accepted the changes.
"Perhaps I should speak to them all," he said ruefully. "It may take advice from everyone to convince this woman."
"Any woman worth winning is worth fighting for," Rashid said pointedly. And his sister's glow redoubled. Perhaps, Lucas thought, he could do worse than get advice from his new brother-in-law.
"Have patience, big brother," Julia said. "As long as she knows you love her, she will come around." She glanced at her husband before adding, "She does know you love her, doesn't she?"
"Of course," he said impatiently. "She knows I fell in love with her when I was on her ranch. That's not the problem. The problem is Luke."
"Luke?" Julia was startled.
"Yes. She's worried about his future."
"But what is there to worry about?" Rashid asked. "He is your heir, is he not? He will be king."
"Exactly," Lucas said. But before he could explain, Julia put a hand on his arm, and he looked up to see her watching the doorway. He turned his head, and sucked in a breath at the sight that met his eyes.
She was wearing a simple blue dress he'd never seen her wear before. It made her eyes look the color of a Colorado summer sky, and her body look both slender and richly curved. A thin gold chain gleamed at her throat. Her hair was down, not in its usual tail or braid, and the golden shimmer of that sleek mass that fell over her shoul ders made his fingers curl with the need to touch.
Rashid nodded appreciatively.
"Definitely worth fighting for," he said.
Chapter 14
Jessie had never been so wary of simply going to dinner. She'd changed her clothes three times, finding something wrong or unsuitable about every outfit she tried on. She had finally settled on a blue linen dress that she knew fit her well, even though she was afraid the best from Sally Tucker's dress shop in Shady Rock would be too simple for the royal company she'd be keeping tonight. But it was one of her best, and it would just have to do. She wasn't royalty, but a simple American rancher, and she wasn't going to pretend to be anything else.
At least she would blend well with the room, she thought wryly, guessing that Queen Gwendolyn had decided to have this meal in the informal breakfast room for her sake, since she was more comfortable there than any of the other, more ornate rooms dedicated to the intricate process of formal meals.
Just two more people present shouldn't have made that much difference, Jessie thought a
s she hovered in the doorway, hesitating. But they did. Because these two, Lucas's sister Princess Julia, and Prince Rashid Kamal, were a very dramatic pair. Knowing their history, and how they had resolved the ancient feud between their two families, she'd been curious to see them. But now that she actually had, she felt a bit overwhelmed.
What was it about these people? What gave them this presence, this air of.. .well, of regalness? Did it come from being raised to think they were different, special? Or was it somehow born in them? Her brow creased at that thought, because it skirted too close to what Lucas had been saying, that Luke was born to this life.
And then the woman she knew had to be Julia, tall, with thick dark hair, a porcelain complexion and blue eyes like her mother's, swept forward.
"You must be Jessica," she said, reaching out and taking Jessie's hand. "It's so good to meet you at last. Welcome to Montebello."
Julia wore a simply cut silk dress, rich-looking but not flashy, in a pale peach that set off her dark hair. Nothing that made Jessie feel her own attire was either inappropriate or shabby.
"Thank you," she answered automatically. "But call me Jessie, please. Or Jess."
"I will, thank you. This is my husband, Rashid."
The dark man smiled graciously, then bent over her hand and kissed it in a way that should have seemed pretentious but didn't; she'd be willing to bet his ancestors had probably invented the extravagant gesture.
"It is my pleasure indeed, Jessie, to meet at last the woman who has managed to bring such consternation into Lucas Sebastiani's life."
Jessie blushed at the outrageous words, but before she could become too embarrassed, Julia was chatting away to her as if they were old friends.
"I hope you're having a wonderful time. Has Lucas shown you everything? No, wait, you've not been here long enough to see all the wonders of Montebello. You can't even have begun."
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