by Romancing the Crown Series (13-in-1 bundle) (v1. 0) (lit)
To her surprise, there was a welcoming party of sorts waiting for her. Lloyd Gallini and Josie Sabina, standing nearly at attention as she descended.
"Welcome back," Lloyd said, and Jessie wondered if the barely perceptible hesitation had been on the word "home." "If you will come with us?"
She shivered slightly; the simple words seemed ominous somehow, like something a cop would say to a suspect. She tried to laugh it off, and succeeded to a great extent, but a certain edginess remained.
As she walked toward the palace, the helicopter lifted off, with considerably more speed—and at a more rakish angle—than it had taken on the trip here, and she realized Rashid had actually toned down his flying for her sake. At Julia's suggestion, no doubt, Jessie guessed. The woman thought of everything.
And I'll miss her, Jessie thought, finding it surprising she could feel that way upon such short acquaintance.
She caught herself then, and reminded herself that she had promised Julia to give this an honest try. Just as she had promised Lucas, once. And she had tried, she thought. She had tried, and she didn't see what could possibly change now to make it work.
Once inside the palace, Lloyd closed the doors, turned to her and said formally, "If you would please change into riding attire? Mrs. Sabina will assist you, and then I will escort you to the stables."
Assist? Escort? Jessie wondered, suddenly suspicious that she'd been assigned watchdogs to make certain she didn't leave again.
"And why am I going to the stables?" she asked, trying her best to imitate the imperious tone she'd heard from Queen Gwendolyn on occasion.
"Because Prince Lucas requests it," Lloyd said.
Jessie bit back the sharp response that leapt to her lips, the instant refusal she wanted to give simply because of that annoying assumption that she would dance to Lucas's tune just because he was a prince. A dozen comebacks raced through her mind, but all of them were a bit snappish, and would go against her promise to Julia.
"It's a good thing he requested instead of ordered, or he'd have been disappointed."
That alone startled the staid pair enough to blink at her; an accomplishment that at least made her smile as she went into her room to change her clothes. The sight of baby Luke's empty crib gave her a pang, which was followed by a sudden jolt of fear. What if this was all some elaborate plot? What if Julia had convinced her to leave Luke in Tamir so she could hand him over to her brother?
Shaking, she sank down on the bed. Her heart battled with her gut, and the result was the terrible sort of nausea that she knew from sad experience came when you were afraid you'd been a lethal fool.
You're being ridiculous, she told herself. You 're just overreacting because of what happened before.
But that didn't help ease the nausea. After all, she'd totally misjudged Ursula. But then, Ursula was—had been —her sister, and who would ever believe such a thing of her own sister?
Jessie pictured Julia in her mind. Julia with her wonderful smile, lovely laugh and impish charm. Pictured her with her own baby son, a look of pure, maternal joy on her face. Tried to imagine that woman taking Luke away from her. She couldn't make the image form. It was impossible, even more impossible than believing the sister she'd always known was self-centered and bitter had done what she'd done.
If Julia is really that kind, Jessie thought, then I'm too much of a fool to raise a child, and he'd probably be better off here.
Besides, if that was the plan, they'd have simply gotten rid of her and kept Luke, and probably long ago.
She took several deep breaths to calm herself. When she was feeling steadier, she got up and went to the closet. She'd had to leave clothing here, in order to keep to the single bag for herself and Luke. Everything she'd acquired since she'd been here hung there; she hadn't felt right taking any of it, and had made sure it could be returned before she'd agreed to take any of it in the first place.
But she'd also, in order to make room for Luke's necessities, had to leave some of her own things. Including, fortunately it seemed now, a pair of jeans and a blue light cotton sweater. She changed quickly; she wanted to find out what was going on, fast.
When she opened her bedroom door after changing, she found Josie waiting outside patiently. "Your leader really must be afraid I'll bolt again," she said. Josie tactfully pretended not to hear her comment, and merely gestured her down the hall to the grand staircase. After descending, they went out the side door where the electric carts were parked. There Lloyd was waiting in the driver's seat of one of them, apparently ready for the escort duty he'd mentioned before.
"I can walk, thank you."
"His Highness was very specific."
"I'm sure he was. I can still walk."
"I'm afraid I could not explain why I allowed that to happen," he said stiffly.
Great. Now I'm responsible for keeping the staff out of trouble.
With a sigh, Jessie climbed into the seat beside him. When he gave her a startled look, she realized he'd expected her to get in the back seat, as if this were a limo and she were royalty.
"I'm just a plain ranch girl from Colorado," she told him rather sharply. "I don't do royal."
He blinked again, and Jessie could have sworn the corners of his mouth twitched. "Very well," was all he said as they started toward the stable.
She'd expected to find Lucas there waiting, perhaps astride his flashy stallion. He wasn't. Instead, when she walked into the barn as Lloyd indicated she should, she found the lovely Ghost saddled and waiting, and beside her Mario, aboard a rather nondescript-looking bay.
It wasn't until she got closer and could see past Mario's horse that she realized with a little shock that the mare was wearing Western tack. A brand-new-looking stock saddle, and a tooled leather bridle with a pair of silver conchos on the headpiece and silver ferrules on the reins.
She looked at the groom in puzzlement, but he merely smiled and shrugged. "I do what His Highness asks, miss. If you will mount and follow me, please?"
She couldn't deny she was touched by the gesture. Closer inspection showed the saddle was from one of Colorado's top custom saddle makers. And when she swung up onto the gray's back, she found—without surprise —that the seat was perfect for her, neither too big nor too small. In fact, it was very similar to her own saddle at home, just newer.
And a lot more expensive, she added to herself as they set out.
They rode out of the stable yard, and the bay turned in a different direction than she'd gone before, up away from the sea instead of toward it. Curiosity kept her silent for the first part of the ride, but as they continued upward, she began to wonder.
"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 bey
ond. 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 kne
w 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."