The Prince's Wedding

by Justine Davis

  "Where are we going?" she asked the groom.

  "We are almost there, miss."

  "And where is there?" she asked, more patient with this man who so dearly loved horses than she could manage with the rather snootier household staff.

  His expression became intense, his brows furrowing, as if he were concentrating very hard. "Prince Lucas said to tell you it was...his lookout." He gave her a worried look. "This is right? Before he has called it his sanctuary, but this word, this 'lookout,' it means something special to you? He said you would understand."

  "Oh, yes," she said softly. "I understand."

  His lookout.

  Her heart began to hammer in her chest as she tried to analyze what this meant, what his intention was. Did he want to show her a place that was special to him? Or did he want her to be overwhelmed by memories of what had happened at her own lookout, and unable to think of anything but the fire they created together?

  She was so fixed on trying to figure out his intent that she almost lost track of where they were going. When Mario pulled the bay to a halt, she came back to herself abruptly and looked around.

  The first thing she saw was the incredible view. They'd climbed high enough to have a spectacular, more than one-hundred-eighty-degree panorama of the coastline and the sea, of the city of San Sebastian and the mountains beyond. Yet this spot seemed removed from all of it, as if it were a tiny spot out of time and place.

  It was incredibly quiet here. She could smell some sort of exotic, flowery scent, and the air was cool and the sun warm. Now and then a brightly colored bird flitted by, and it all conspired to invite her to dismount and stay a long while just to savor it all.

  And then she looked at the place itself, and her breath caught. Behind her, set in a semicircle of trees, was a sort of tent that seemed to be made out of silk scarves of many bright colors, tied open on the side toward the view. It was straight out of exotic tales of the Arabian nights, and Jessie thought it should look silly or overdone, but it didn't. Not here.

  Laid out inside it, on a small, low table, was an elegant picnic, with a huge basket and real dishes and sparkling glassware. Drawn irresistibly, she stepped into the unusual tent, surprised at the cool protection the flimsy-looking material actually offered.

  Several thick carpets had been laid out on the ground, until it was as soft beneath her feet as any well-padded rug in the palace. The cloth on the table was, she was sure, genuine silk damask, just as the china had to have come directly from the palace dining room, and the heavy crystal she didn't even want to think about. She supposed they wouldn't miss a piece if it were broken, but she'd have nightmares about it, knowing what they must cost.

  She turned to make a comment to Mario, only to find that both he and his horse had vanished. Startled, she looked around, but there was no sign of the groom or his horse anywhere, not even on the trail. Ghost was tied carefully to a low branch, and placidly dozing in the warm sun, as if the other horse and rider had never been here at all.

  For several long, quiet minutes she simply stood there, not particularly concerned about being up here alone— she could find her way back, after all—and soaking in the beauty of this spot. She did wonder where Lucas was, why he'd arranged it this way rather than being here when she arrived, but supposed he had a reason.

  She wasn't sure how long she'd been simply standing there, feeling the peace, when something tickling the edges of her vision became too clear to ignore. She turned then, and looked down the hill she'd just ascended. Although they were still a distance away, there was no mistaking the sleek black horse. Even from here the graceful stride and flowing mane and tail were obvious.

  She gathered now that this had been Lucas's plan, to arrive himself after she was already up here. Still, she couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't just ridden up here with her in the first place, instead of having Mario bring her here and leave her waiting.

  Nervous about this first face-to-face meeting with him since she'd attempted to leave, Jessie returned to the table, thinking she could at least open the basket to see if there were any preparations she could make.

  She dug in and found napkins that matched the rich tablecloth, a bottle of wine, some rich Brie cheese, grapes, two servings of what appeared to be a luscious chicken with rice dish, and silverware trimmed in gold that she had no doubt was real.

  She placed a napkin with each plate, arranged the utensils and glasses with great care, and then turned to the food, hoping to dispel her nervousness in action. But as the sound of the horse's steady gait came closer, her nervousness increased instead.

  Finally, when she could tell by the sound that he had topped the rise and was only a few yards away, she took a deep breath, braced herself, and turned to face Lucas Sebastiani, crown prince of Montebello.

  But it wasn't Lucas she saw.

  It was Joe.

  Chapter 19

  Jessie stared, the picnic forgotten.

  It was Joe.

  Not Lucas, the royal prince, but Joe. Wearing the same battered hat, Western-style shirt, worn jeans and battered boots he'd worn on her ranch. He'd kept them, she thought, stunned. He even rode a Western saddle that looked odd yet endearingly familiar on the hot-blooded black horse.

  Her heart hammered in her chest at the flood of sweet memories that nearly swamped her. Joe. Her Joe, who had been so lost, who had worked so hard to chase away the demon of his lost past; Joe who had so reluctantly but so completely fallen in love with her.

  Joe, who had fathered her child.

  Her common sense was telling her that this was still Lucas, but her heart was crying out to Joe.

  The black came to a sharp halt with a snort and a toss of his dark head. His rider dismounted with the fluid grace that had first drawn her to an itinerant cowboy who had rather wearily explained that he couldn't give her any references or any identification, simply because he had no idea who he was or where he was from.

  She simply stood there, because she didn't know what else to do. She knew she was breathing too quickly, knew her pulse was racing, but could do nothing to calm herself. Not when she was face-to-face with a dream, with the man she'd never thought she'd see again in this life.

  He walked toward her, not with Lucas's innate confidence that bordered on arrogance, but with Joe's quiet demeanor that had seemed almost shy to her at the time. Even his expression was the same; hesitant, uncertain.

  He came to a halt in front of her. And then he reached up to drag off that work-stained black Stetson and jam a hand through his tangled hair, exactly as Joe had the day he'd come to her door looking for work. And when he spoke, her breath stopped, for he used the same words Joe had spoken then.

  "I heard you needed someone. I can't give you any references, because I'm new at this. But I'll work hard and well, that much I can promise."

  "That's all I ask of anyone." She whispered the words she'd said that day.

  Joe smiled. She couldn't deny that it was him, that it was the man she'd fallen for who stood there smiling that shy smile at her. And in that moment she felt again the sweet joy of falling in love, and it was so strong she thought she would do just about anything to feel that way again.

  Anything except sacrifice a child's future.

  "I never quite understood why you hired me," he said.

  "To be honest, neither do I," she said, her mouth twisting into a rueful smile. "It was very foolish. I know the guys thought I'd fallen right off for a pretty face."

  He grimaced. "Believe me, I know. They made that pretty clear from the very first day. They're all very protective of you, you know."

  She smiled. "They've been with me for ages. Some of them saw me grow up on the ranch, so yes, they feel protective."

  "Not nearly as protective as I felt," he said. "I knew from that first day that you were.. .different from any woman I'd ever known."

  Her brow creased. "How could you know that, without your memory?"

  His mouth quirked wryly.
"The same way I knew that I was good with horses, I guess. It wasn't in the brain, it was gut-deep."

  He stepped into the tent then, and looked around, as if assessing how it looked.

  "Was this your idea?" she asked.

  His gaze went to her face. "Yes. I told them I wanted a romantic picnic set up." Then he shrugged, almost sheepishly. "It's a bit over the top, I guess."

  "No. It's lovely." She hesitated, then plunged ahead. "And dressing like Joe?"

  His expression became very solemn. "I wanted to show you I'm still that man, Jessie. He's here inside me, that man who fell in love with you."

  Jessie felt her cheeks heat, and took a deep breath. She wasn't ready for this, after all, she decided, and quickly suggested they eat the lovely meal, needing the distraction to deal with this new turn.

  The meal was, as all meals were at the palace, excellent. The chicken was moist, the rice fluffy, the cheese rich and creamy, and the wine a light, perfect complement. They didn't say much, and they both ate slowly. It was as if they both knew that afterward would come the conversation that would set the course for the rest of their lives, and neither was in a hurry to get there.

  But finally the meal was undeniably done, the dishes, glasses and utensils put back in the basket, the cloth and napkins folded with more care than was necessary, considering Jessie knew they'd go immediately to the palace laundry when they were returned.

  And finally there was nothing left to do, nothing left to busy herself with. She opened her mouth, ready to say something inane about the view, or even the weather, but shut it again when she realized how obvious it would be that she was avoiding the real issue.

  Lucas seemed to hesitate, as well, but she knew him, even in this guise, well enough to know he would plunge in eventually. And he did. But not in the way she expected.

  "There was something else I knew in my gut when I came to your ranch," he said. "Even though I didn't know much of anything about myself."

  "What?"

  "That I'd been lonely for a long time."

  Jessie stared at him. "Lonely?"

  "Now, looking back, I know how right that feeling was. I've been surrounded by people, sometimes hundreds or even thousands of them, yet I was lonely."

  "They say you can sometimes be the loneliest in a crowd," she said, and he nodded.

  "When fate dropped me on your doorstep, that was one of the few things I was sure about. I knew it the minute I looked in your eyes. I thought, 'Well, here she is, at last.

  Jessie blinked. "That soon?"

  He nodded. "That soon. Maybe because I didn't have any of this—" he gestured widely, as if to encompass not just the palace but the entire country and his life in it"—to cloud my thinking. I knew all I had to know, that you were the woman to end that loneliness."

  Jessie felt a tremendous pressure ease, a pressure she hadn't known the strength of until now, when it released.

  "I used to think about it a lot," she admitted. "How amazing it was that we'd been thrown together by chance and yet...."

  "We fell in love?" When she nodded, he added quietly, "Maybe it wasn't chance at all. I don't know. But what I do know is how much luckier we are than the rest of my family, including my parents."

  She blinked. "Luckier?"

  "Yes. Because unlike all of them, we fell in love without who I am ever being a factor, in any way."

  She'd never thought of it that way, and now she turned it over and over in her mind as he went on.

  "You didn't set your sights on the prince of Montebello, or a crown of your own, and I wasn't looking for the perfect woman to wear that crown, for the sake of my country. Joe had his own problems, true, but generally we were just two people who met and fell in love, simply, like real people do."

  "We had the complications after, not before," she said slowly.

  "Exactly. But we have the knowledge that it truly didn't have any part in how we feel about each other. And that's something to treasure, believe me."

  .. .how we feel about each other.

  The quiet assumption that that love still existed between them was balm to her battered heart. And as if Lucas realized it, he suddenly slipped off the bench where they'd been sitting, down on his knees before her.

  "I've been a fool, just as my sister said. I thought you knew I still felt about you the way I had then. I thought it was a given. I was trying so hard to be fair about what it would mean for you to marry me, that I didn't think about telling you again what I thought you already knew."

  "I knew Joe loved me," she began.

  "And I should have realized that to you, Lucas is a very different person. I'm sorry, Jessie. But let me tell you now, that I love you even more now as Lucas than I did as Joe back then."

  "More?" It was greedy, perhaps, but she wanted—no, she needed—to hear this.

  "Yes, more. And not just because you're the mother of my son, although that added a whole new dimension to my feelings. I love the way you're willing to fight for him, the way you're willing to stand up to anyone who gets in your way when you think you're right, the way you aren't intimidated by anyone's rank or position."

  "That's what you think," she muttered.

  He grinned at her then. "Honey, there's a big difference between being amazed and being intimidated. An intimidated woman wouldn't have used the princess of two countries to help her escape."

  She felt a pang of guilt at the characterization of what she'd done, but she was too surprised by his grin—and the endearment—to dwell on that. Instead she gave him a wary, sideways look.

  "You're not angry about that? That I...just left. Or tried to?"

  "How can I be mad at what you did, when I did the same thing to you?"

  She hadn't thought of that, either. "Yes, I guess you did."

  "And I have to think you did it for the same reason I did, because you honestly thought it was the best thing to do at the time."

  "I did. It was." She corrected herself. "At least, I thought it was."

  And then it hit her. She knew now that he, Lucas, loved her, but now what? What had she gained, except a more painful parting? Because the most pressing reason of all hadn't changed at all, hadn't been magically altered by his declaration. Love didn't remove all obstacles, she thought. Some it made harder and higher.

  "Jessie?" An odd note had come into his voice. He was still kneeling in front of her, with a rather desperate expression on his face. "Did I wait too long? Or have I killed the love you had for Joe by turning out to be Lucas instead?"

  "No," she said softly. "I love you. That's what was so hard, why I was so afraid. I didn't want to love a prince, but I couldn't seem to help it."

  Relief softened his expression. "Thank God," he murmured. "I was afraid we were going to lose this. Lose what we have, what we found that night on my boat...."

  Heat flooded her at the memories his simple words summoned up. It blazed into an inferno when his voice went thick and husky.

  "I'd love to make love to you here, in my special place. Just like we did in yours, on the ranch."

  In that moment she wanted nothing more than to say yes, to have him over her, under her, in her, naked in the sun in this impossibly romantic place. She wanted him so badly she nearly ached with it.

  But an image of a sleeping child who had no one else to fight for him crowded out even those hot images, and she knew she couldn't put this off any longer.

  "I want it, too. If that were all it took to build a marriage, a family, a life together, then we would have it made," she said.

  Lucas sat back on his heels, looking at her steadily. "But that's not all it takes, is it?"

  "No. I'm sorry, Lucas, but that I love you still doesn't change the fact that I can't do this to Luke, to his future. And I won't."

  Lucas sighed. "It's not a bad life."

  "No, I can see that. Many would say I'm a fool not to want this kind of life for my child. I know he would have more material advantages here, being raised royal. But
it's not a free life, and that's worth more to me."

  At that, Lucas sat on the thick carpet, and reached up to tug her down beside him. Cross-legged, they sat facing

  each other. They had often taken up just these positions in front of the fireplace in her ranch house, and she

  wondered if he remembered that, if that was why he'd done it.

  "I've been thinking a lot about this," he said. His mouth quirked as he added, "I had a lot of time alone to do it,

  all night last night."

  So did I, she thought, remembering the long hours spent shoring up her determination, telling herself over and

  over what she had to do, trying to convince herself that there was no reason good enough to sacrifice her son's

  freedom to choose his own path.

  "There's got to be a way, Jessie. We can do this, I know we can."

  Remembering her promise to Julia, Jessie said, "I'm willing to listen to anything."

  He gave her a grateful look. "I was thinking.. .what if we—all of us, you, me, and Luke—spend all our

  vacations on the ranch? We could go at least four or five times a year, and the summer visit could be a couple of

  months. And you can't tell me," he said with a crooked grin, "that it wouldn't be nice to spend the worst of the

  winter here in the sun."

  "No, I can't, but it's not fair to expect the hands to do all the hard winter work while I loll in the sun." "So, we rotate 'em out of there. Bring one of them with you for a vacation in Montebello each year." At the image of Barney lounging on a sandy beach, Jessie couldn't help but smile. "Now, that's a plan." "And come to think of it, we could send a few of my family to the ranch. Give them a taste of real life some of

  them badly need."

  He said it with such a wry undertone that she couldn't help but laugh. And when she did, he smiled widely at her.

  "See? There's always a way. And you'll have the resources to do whatever is needed on the ranch, even give the hands a raise. I'm not," he said quickly, guessing accurately at the cause of her suddenly mutinous look, "suggesting that you should or would marry me for the money, I'm just saying that it's there, it's a fact, and you should take it into account."