Oh yeah, people were going to believe that this woman was ordinary. She had a foreign lilt to her voice, skin like expensive silk and a body that would make even the tamest of men take notice. But he hadn’t been lying when he’d said that he wasn’t good at pretending. He’d leave that part to her.
“Here we are,” he said as he made the last turn and the house came into view.
“Oh my.”
Yes, that just about said it all, didn’t it? “Not exactly what a princess is used to.”
“It’s built of logs!”
“You noticed that, did you?”
“But…it’s also very big.”
That was being kind. The house meandered and had a huge wraparound porch. It filled up a lot of space.
“I have a habit of building when I need to think. Or not think.”
“You must need to think—or not think—a lot. Andreus never mentioned this.”
“Yes, well, I guess the subject of architecture doesn’t come up a lot in royal conversations.” But it was more than that, Owen knew. Andreus knew of the depth of the private pain that had triggered Owen’s building craze. He wouldn’t have spoken of Owen’s feelings to anyone without asking his friend’s permission first.
“And this is all for one person? I mean…that is…”
Owen held up one hand. “You know I’m divorced and that I lost my son. I have a housekeeper and cook, Lydia Jeffers, who comes by, but I’m the only one who lives here. The hands live in the bunkhouse. And yes, it’s a lot of house for one person. I justify the space by having a few gatherings here each year. The local cattlemen’s association holds their annual conference here and if my neighbors need overflow housing for their guests, I’ve been known to oblige them. Which means you probably make a good point about staying here incognito. I have a feeling that if your status becomes known, I’ll be overrun with unexpected guests.”
He parked in front and blew out a breath, then climbed from the Land Rover and circled around to assist Delfyne from the vehicle.
She beat him to it. “All right. If I get to be who I want to be, then I’m an independent woman for the next few months. No special considerations. I’ll open my own car doors and do…oh, whatever I like. All the things princesses aren’t allowed to do.”
The excited smile she gave Owen caught him by surprise, full-force. Damn, but what had Andreus been thinking sending his sister here to stay with a bad-tempered recluse like himself? The woman clearly belonged in the sunshine. Her smile practically sparkled. She all but danced up the porch stairs, then turned, tipped her face up to him and held out her hands. “Thank you so much, Owen. You don’t know what this means to me. I’m going to be an anonymous, blend-into-life woman!”
Blend in? Owen didn’t think so. On this ranch she was going to stand out like a rose among thistles, and the way she was looking at him as if he’d just offered her the keys to a long-sought treasure…
Don’t even think about her that way, Owen told himself. He’d learned he didn’t have much other than money to offer most women, so getting entangled with a woman with a crown would be an act of major stupidity. No, the best thing he could do was to get Delfyne set up as he had promised her brother and then put a lot of space between himself and her.
“I’ll get your things inside and show you where your room is,” he said. “Your bodyguards can stay in the bunkhouse. I’ll tell my employees that they’re friends of yours who want to experience ranch life. It won’t be the first time I’ve had that type of guest.”
“All right. Owen?”
He looked up. She was staring at him in that direct, unnerving way she had. “What?”
“I know I said thank you already, but I want you to know that it wasn’t just a cursory expression of gratitude. I really do know how much my family owes you for allowing me to stay here. Beyond the difficulties of hiding a princess in your house, Andreus told me that you don’t like women much.”
Her voice was soft, the expression in her eyes even softer. Something low in Owen’s gut shifted. His body went on full alert, and he felt a growl coming on. His conviction earlier that having this woman at his house was a bad idea deepened. Because Andreus was dead wrong. It wasn’t that he didn’t like women. He just couldn’t offer what most of them wanted, so it was better to keep his distance most of the time.
With this woman he could tell that it would be better to keep his distance all of the time. Too bad that was going to be impossible.
“So…thank you very much for giving me a place to stay,” Delfyne finished. “That was very kind of you.”
Oh yeah, he was going to start letting her think that he was kind. That wasn’t going to happen. If he did, she’d turn those mesmerizing violet eyes on him and then…he wasn’t going to think about what he might do then. Something idiotic and wrong. He had his limits.
“So Andreus told you that, did he? That I was being kind?”
She slowly shook her head. “No, he told me that you thought you owed him something because he came over here when…when you needed a friend. You’re doing this out of a sense of obligation.”
Which was the truth, so he said nothing.
“But agreeing to pretend I’m someone other than who I am…that took guts. Andreus and my family won’t like that at all. They think that pretending to be an ordinary citizen will leave me vulnerable.” For a second she looked a bit uneasy. “My family thinks that if men don’t realize who I am or what my destiny is, they’ll try to take liberties.”
Great. Now Andreus was going to want to kick his butt, and the man would be right. Owen hadn’t actually thought of this particular problem.
“Don’t worry. I won’t let anyone near you,” he reiterated. Including me.
Which didn’t exactly bring a smile to her face.
“I told you I don’t want to be a prisoner here.”
He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Let me amend my last statement. I won’t let the wrong kind of people near you. You can have total privacy.”
Still, no smile.
“Delfyne, I’m doing my best. Princesses aren’t exactly my area of expertise.”
She nodded. “Okay, that’s fair. What is your area of expertise?”
“Ranching and making money. That’s pretty much it.”
“And building,” she reminded him.
“Yeah, well, that’s not an expertise. That’s an obsession.”
She did smile then. “Ah, obsessions. I understand those. I have a few of my own.” But she didn’t elaborate.
And there they stood, the princess and the rancher. Owen looked at the beautiful, cultured woman who had dropped into his world. He wondered how he was going to survive this experience. He glanced out into the distance, to his land. To his cattle. To the roots and the history that kept him mostly sane.
“I’m sorry. You have work to do. Andreus warned me not to be a pest. If you show me to my room, I’ll get settled in. And, Owen, don’t worry. I know you didn’t exactly want me here and I didn’t want to be here, but you’ve given me the gift of a chance to be myself and I intend to take it. Don’t worry about the privacy. I don’t need it. Now that I know we’re agreed that I can take a vacation from being a princess, I can’t wait to let loose and be who I want to be and do what I want to do. I won’t be a bother at all. You’ll barely notice that I’m around.”
Owen wanted to throw back his head and howl at that. Oh yes, he had made a big mistake saying yes to Andreus, Owen thought as he showed the two guards to the bunkhouse then strode toward the ATV that would take him out to where the rest of his hands were mending fence.
This woman was unpredictable. She wanted things she couldn’t have, and Owen had far too much experience with women who wanted things they couldn’t have. It always turned out badly.
He was going to spend as little time as possible with the princess who was inhabiting his house. A man would be insane to do anything else.
CHAPTER THREE
DELFYNE
had gone online and ordered some “ordinary-woman” clothes, but two days hadn’t been enough time for them to arrive, so this morning she opted for the least glamorous things she owned. The pale blue slacks and white silk blouse weren’t exactly casual, but they would have to do.
She delved into her jewelry box and came up with what she wanted. “Finally! A chance to wear these!” She placed the yellow, blue and white bangle bracelets on one wrist and the cute bracelet with the gaudy pink elephant charms on the other.
Then she slipped bone-colored ballet flats on her feet and ventured out into the house, wandering the massive hallways. This was very much a man’s house. Everything was big and spare with clean lines and no frills. Golden wood was everywhere.
There was art on the walls. Expensive art, she noted, but no personal items. No photographs, no mementos of any type. And most of the rooms looked as if they were seldom used, which was probably the truth. Altogether there was little here to tell her about her host, about the man.
She knew some things, of course, the little that Andreus had told her in the past or had felt she needed to know now. Owen had once had a wife, a gorgeous blonde he’d met in college. They’d married and he’d taken her back to the family spread. Eventually, they’d had a son who had died of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. Then the marriage had dissolved. That was all Delfyne knew other than the fact that Owen was very rich. He’d spent his alone time doing more than just building this house. He’d invested his money in a mix of risky ventures and conservative stocks and had earned a fortune. But he seldom left the ranch. Andreus had tried to get him to visit their palace on Xenora several times to no avail, other than that one trip when the two of them had been in college. So Owen was a man of mystery.
And now he was her man of mystery, temporarily.
Delfyne’s breath caught at the expression. She knew better than to have those kinds of thoughts. Much as she wanted to have some adventures, she didn’t want to have romantic ones. Already she’d learned that being a princess—an impetuous princess—had its downside. Men had taken advantage of her and misread her enthusiasm for life as something more. The fact that she was destined eventually to marry a royal and couldn’t ask for a commitment had encouraged the few men she’d known to try and take advantage of her. So no, no man of mystery for her. No men at all in a romantic sense.
The fact that Owen was rugged and good-looking with fierce, compelling eyes had to be immaterial. He was her host, no more, and he was a reluctant host at that. He didn’t like having her foisted on him.
That was probably why, during the two days she’d been here, she’d barely seen him at all. When she got up in the morning, he was gone. Apparently he ate his meals elsewhere, and she had no idea when he came in or what he did all day.
What she did know was that her glorious plans for independence were fading away. She’d spent the two days alone or bugging Lydia Jeffers just so she would have someone to talk to. Lydia, while she was a very nice woman, had work to do and she seemed suspicious of who and what Delfyne was.
None of this was getting Delfyne what she wanted—a taste of real life.
Something had to happen soon. Something good and exciting and different. The hourglass held only so much sand and once she returned to Xenora, her life would never be her own again. Not a minute of her time here could be wasted.
“So, that’s it, then. Owen may not like having me here, but I won’t be locked away in the house reading books and eating bon bons. The man is just going to have to put up with me,” she declared to the empty walls. Pushing open the door, she wandered out into the green and misty morning.
Immediately, her bodyguards, Theron and Nicholas, stood up from where they’d been sitting. She waved them away. Yesterday she’d explained to them their role as greenhorns trying a taste of ranch life, but they didn’t seem to be getting into the spirit of things.
“Go. Do something,” she said.
“What?”
“I don’t know. Eat.”
Theron laughed. He sat down again. She ignored him and continued on her way.
The scent of growing things and something animal filled her nostrils and she breathed in deeply, acclimating herself to the unfamiliar. This was the perfume of life, not the palace.
Staring around her, Delfyne took in the endless miles of land, the buildings that were clearly not living space and a number of big, hulking, unfamiliar vehicles.
She smiled as Jake and Alf, two of the ranch dogs, ran around barking as if vying for her attention, jumping around so much that Alf nearly stepped on the paw of a little orange cat that came too close.
“You two behave yourselves,” she ordered affectionately, scratching Jake behind the ears. “And watch where you’re walking. You nearly squashed this little guy.”
Indeed, the cat was limping slightly, but when Delfyne tried to pick him up he gave her a look that said, “I’m a rough tough ranch cat. I don’t need coddling,” and continued on his way.
She knew the cats here had no names. They were working animals, not pets, and there were too many of them. “But I’m calling you Tim,” Delfyne announced to the cat’s retreating back. “As in Tiny Tim.”
Her parents would have groaned. Her father in particular had worried about her tendency to request bedtime stories with happily-every-after endings. He’d taken to giving her warnings about the tales, telling her that in the original story of The Little Mermaid, the heroine had not married her prince, and that in her favorite Xenoran legend, King Vondiver, the hero, had given up his crown to pursue his love of a common woman and had suffered a terribly alarming, sad and lonely ending. Surely she didn’t want to end up like that.
Her parents needn’t have worried. Delfyne knew that stories weren’t real, and she had absolutely no desire to have her life turn out like the endings of those tales. She just liked hearing them. Vondiver’s story in particular always left her misty-eyed.
“Getting teary over a silly story can be downright embarrassing, Tim,” she said.
The cat continued to ignore her, and Jake and Alf had already run off, attracted by something else.
“On my own again,” Delfyne said with a sigh. “But I refuse to feel sorry for myself. Princesses don’t. When we find ourselves in less-than-ideal circumstances, we do something about it!
“So stand tall,” she said, quoting from that ever-present supply of lessons that had been fed to her as a child.
Some princesses might take that a step further and take action, she thought. Okay, that had never been part of her lessons. It was from her own personal, flawed guidebook…which meant she was on the verge of doing something ill-advised. “But I have to do something,” she muttered.
She looked around again. Owen was nowhere to be seen, so Delfyne continued on toward one of the large structures. Was it the barn, perhaps? She had no idea, but she wasn’t about to be deterred now that she’d made up her mind to escape the house. She was almost to the door when she heard a rustle and a shout.
“Damn it, Ennis, stop messing around and get over here and help me!”
That was unmistakably Owen’s voice. It was coming from the structure next to this one. Delfyne didn’t hesitate. She followed Owen’s voice, slipping inside the building.
What she saw stopped her in her tracks.
There was Owen, all broad shoulders and lean hips, his damp shirt plastered to his body as he bent over a cow that had its head in some sort of contraption. He shook his head toward the man standing beside him. Ennis, Delfyne assumed.
“Get Len. We’re going to have to operate,” Owen said. “This calf isn’t coming, even with the chains. And when you get back, wash up. Make sure this area is disinfected. Come on. Hustle. She’s suffering.”
His words brought Delfyne’s attention back to the cow, which did appear to be in serious distress. And that contraption…
A small sound escaped Delfyne, and Owen looked up. A curse word escaped him.
“Go back to the hou
se,” he told her.
His tone brooked no opposition. She bit her lip.
“What are you going to do to her? That machine doesn’t look comfortable.”
Was that a growl? “It’s not, but it’s necessary so she doesn’t hurt herself or kick out and kill one of us while we help her. Now go. You don’t belong here.”
“Will she be all right?”
He grimaced and started to answer. She was pretty sure he wasn’t going to offer her any platitudes, but she’d never know that for sure because a man shrugging into a pair of pristine coveralls came loping in at that moment and started barking orders. He must be the vet.
“Ready, boss?” the man asked.
“She’s yours, Len,” Owen answered, but he didn’t move away. Instead, he deftly assisted the man, following Len’s orders quickly and efficiently, as if he’d done this hundreds of times before.
“She’s bleeding too much,” Len said. “Give me the hemostat. Come on. Quick. Quick, dammit.”
Owen slapped the object in the man’s hand and Len went to work. There was so much blood.
Delfyne felt light-headed and weak. She reached for the wall and tried to stay quiet. Apparently unsuccessfully, because Owen swore and started toward her. “You look like you’re going to faint. I’m getting you out of here now.”
But when he moved toward her and away from the cow, Delfyne realized that the animal might not survive because “the princess” had drawn Owen’s attention and hands away from the task at hand.
“No. No, I’m all right. Go help.” She motioned him back, gulping in air. Her voice was shaky but she remained standing.
He hesitated.
“Owen!” Len was yelling.
“Go!” Delfyne yelled, too. She had a crazy urge to say, “I command you,” even though she’d never said that in her life.
Without another word, Owen returned to his place with Len and the distressed creature. Side by side, the two men barked orders at each other and worked in concert, a team that had obviously done this together before.
The Cowboy and the Princess Page 3