The Prince's Cowboy Double

by Victoria Chancellor

  “Darlin’, why don’t you just tell them I have a cold.”

  “Yes, a cold is good. And you need to cancel the rest of your appearances in Texas to recover, especially since I just learned that the president won’t be at his ranch this weekend.”

  “Right. And we’ll head back to Ranger Springs to search for Kerry Lynn and lover boy.”

  “Good plan,” she said, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “I’ll write the press release immediately.”

  “You sure this won’t cause any of that rabid speculation by the tabloids?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t believe so, not when you made appearances with laryngitis.”

  His grip on her arms stopped her. “One thing before you rush off to deceive the public again.” He gave her one of his slow, sexy smiles, then waited for her reaction. He wasn’t disappointed; she melted just a bit before he continued. “Kerry Lynn and I never did set the sheets on fire. We had a good time, had a lot in common, but the spark just wasn’t there.”

  “Spark?”

  He grinned. “Yeah, the spark. You know what I mean. It’s that feelin’ you and I get when we look at each other.”

  “We do not…spark.” She stiffened, as if she’d just remembered she was supposed to be arguing with him, not kissing him until he couldn’t think straight.

  “Oh, yeah we do, Lady Wendy. You might as well go ahead and admit it now, because those little sparks can turn into a full-out blaze if you’re not careful.”

  OF ALL THE IRRESPONSIBLE actions she might have taken, kissing Hank McCauley in his hotel suite was right at the top of the list. If she were totally honest, using the flimsy excuse of thanking him for his “performance” at the governor’s mansion was even more daft. If she hadn’t put herself in such a situation, she wouldn’t have been tempted by his fantastic body and enticing lips. Not to mention his sexy smile and bedroom eyes.

  She groaned as she secured the locks on her hotel room door and sagged against the wall. She had to remember her goal—find the prince and ensure no one learned of the deception. Placate King Wilheim and chastise Prince Alexi, then return to Belegovia and forget about Hank McCauley.

  Her life was that simple; there was no other choice. She refused to admit defeat. She would not return to England and explain to her family—especially her father—that she’d failed in her first opportunity to distinguish herself from the thousands of other public relations persons who aspired to work for the royals.

  Her career remained the most important part of her life at the moment. She was only twenty-nine years old; plenty of time remained before she started hearing the loud ticking of her biological clock. Besides, she’d yet to meet a man who made her want to settle for nappies and formula rather than business suits and a career. Her few attempts at a serious relationship proved failures when she’d expected her partner to be monogamous and understanding. Geoffrey had told her that if her job came first, he needed to seek companionship elsewhere while she was “busy.” She’d learned from Carlos that a man’s career came first; she needed to accommodate her schedule to his far more important assignments.

  Gwendolyn was reminded of a clever sign she’d read in a restaurant: a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle. She understood completely that she didn’t need a man to make her complete.

  But oh, she truly wanted Hank McCauley to send sparks flying. Although he wasn’t the happily-ever-after type of man that she’d been raised to admire, he was the devil-may-care type of lover that she’d fantasized about for years.

  He was also absolutely off limits to her fantasies, her thoughts, and especially any part of her body.

  Unfortunately, her wayward lips didn’t want to listen to such a logical argument. Her lips wanted her to march right back to the presidential suite, grab the lapels of that thick robe and pull him close for another heart-stopping kiss.

  “No!” she said aloud as she marched into the bathroom. She was going to finish her nightly routine, moisturizing her skin so she didn’t become sunburned and parched from the Texas sun. She was going to brush and floss her teeth so she didn’t have to endure any of Hank’s ridiculous jests about English dental health. And she was going to forget her inappropriate fascination with one infuriating Texas cowboy.

  TRAVIS LEANED BACK AGAINST the bar and took a sip of his draft beer, wondering what Hank was up to at the moment. Had the woman been worth the trip out of town? Hank took his ranch seriously, so she must be something special.

  Under normal conditions, he wouldn’t miss the going-away party for one of Ethan Parker’s officers, Rick Alvarado. The festivities were in full swing at Schultze’s Roadhouse. They’d reserved the back room, but the party had spilled over into the main part of the bar, and now everyone was mingling with the locals who’d come in for a few beers and some barbecue.

  Of course, the fact that most of the Ranger Springs Police Department was in attendance put a damper on serious drinking.

  “So, where’s Hank tonight? I thought for sure he’d be here,” Susie O’Donald, Ethan’s daytime dispatcher, asked as she joined him at the bar.

  “He had to go out of town for a few days. I’m sure he’s real sorry he missed the party.”

  “I have a couple of girlfriends who wish he’d shown up,” Susie teased. “Of course, they’d settle for a dance with you.”

  “Gee, don’t flatter me so much. My head will swell.”

  Susie laughed. “I’m just teasing, although you have to admit Hank is a good-looking devil.”

  “He’s not my type,” Travis said, looking down at the cute, very married dispatcher who loved to get involved in local gossip as much as the two veterans, Thelma and Joyce, down at the Four Square Café.

  “Well, come on over and dance with Gina Mae Summers,” Susie said, grasping his arm. “She’s turned down Tug Hanson and Lester Boggs, but they’re bound to come back.”

  “You know I’m not much of a dancer.”

  “That’s why we miss Hank so much. But you’ll do in a pinch,” Susie replied as she pulled him across the floor. “You’re better than Lester or Tug.”

  “Faint praise,” he replied as they neared the booth where Gina, the cute red-haired real estate agent sat with Robin Parker. “Hi there, ladies.”

  “Hank’s not here?” Robin asked.

  Travis moaned. He sure wished his friend would drag his sorry butt away from whatever lady had captured his attention. The ladies of Ranger Springs—even the married ones—needed him here.

  Chapter Seven

  Gwendolyn’s second trip to Hank McCauley’s ranch gave her an entirely different perspective from the first trip. For one thing, they traveled in his huge pickup truck, the “dually” with surprising luxuries she hadn’t truly appreciated when she’d first ridden in the vehicle. She settled back into the leather bucket seat and watched the Texas landscape rush by through a dark tinted window, a blast of air-conditioning a welcome relief from the hot weather outside. There was a bench seat behind them in the “extended cab,” as Hank had explained the configuration, for guests or workers. And there were all sorts of gadgets and technical marvels not usually found in European cars.

  Outside, the landscape of rolling hills and winding roads beckoned her attention. Wildflowers bloomed everywhere, alongside the two- and four-lane highways, struggling through rocky outcroppings and peeking around weathered fence posts. Short bushy cactus and yucca plants contributed to a scene that was both foreign and fascinating to someone who had grown up among rain-drenched English gardens, towering trees and cultivated hedgerows.

  “We’ll be at the ranch in about fifteen minutes,” Hank said, breaking into her thoughts. “If you need anything, we can stop at the Kash ’n’ Karry.”

  “I’m fine.” She was already the proud owner of a new pair of form-fitting jeans, a western-cut shirt that placed undo emphasis on her breasts, and a baseball-style cap that proclaimed a love of Texas with a big red embroidered heart over an outline of the state
. Hank had delivered the items to her room early this morning, telling her to put her hair into a ponytail, wear some glossy lipstick and try to look like a Texan when they walked out of the hotel.

  Apparently she needed a disguise now that Hank had returned to his persona. Seeing Prince Alexi’s public relations coordinator with a Texas cowboy who looked just like the prince would raise too many questions now that the paparazzi had caught up with them.

  Milos Anatole now occupied the prince’s suite, pretending to have a cold and laryngitis whenever the phone rang. He did a much more credible imitation of Prince Alexi’s voice than Hank ever could. Gwendolyn wished she’d thought of using him for that function earlier. The valet had proved invaluable for many reasons. She’d need to talk to Alexi about giving him a bonus for his service.

  When she found Alexi. If she was still speaking to him after this last fiasco. Running away from his life wasn’t the answer to whatever was bothering him.

  “Penny for your thoughts, Lady Wendy.”

  Startled to hear Hank’s voice, she shook her head. Only then did she realize she’d been frowning. “I was thinking of Prince Alexi. Where he is right now, what he’s doing, how I’m going to murder him when he reappears.”

  Hank chuckled. “I’m sure he’s shakin’ in his Italian loafers.”

  Wendy looked away from the gently rolling hills to focus on Hank. “If I know Alexi, he’s dressed in disreputable jeans, a ratty old Harvard T-shirt and some battered athletic shoes. He’s probably drinking beer and doing other manly things he’s rarely allowed in Belegovia.”

  “Really? Well, my respect for the guy just went up a notch.” He frowned. “Except for that Harvard shirt. The University of Texas would be a lot better choice, especially if he’s running around the Lone Star State.”

  “He’s rather fond of his alma mater.”

  “I can understand that.”

  “Does that mean you went to the University of Texas?” She tried to keep the skepticism out of her voice—she’d always heard that professional athletes weren’t keen on education—but she wasn’t sure she’d been successful.

  He must have seen through her because he grinned. “I actually graduated, too, although it took me a long time. I left college to rodeo full-time when I was twenty, but I’d always promised my momma that I’d finish, so when I got injured I kept my word.”

  Her respect for Hank McCauley increased. Anyone who kept his word to his mother deserved admiration.

  Gwendolyn had tried to keep her pledge to her mother, who had passed away nearly fifteen years ago. All her mother wanted was for the family to stay close, to work together to make a success of Epswich Manor.

  Some promises were easier to keep than others.

  She wished Alexi could accept what she’d learned through her difficult relationship with her father and siblings: personal and professional success was the best defense against the censure of one’s relatives. Alexi needed to discover how to reconcile his need for independence with his father’s need for control.

  He especially needed to face the problem of finding a princess everyone agreed upon. Truly, with all the women in Europe who were vying for his affections, surely he could find one that he liked well enough to court.

  “When do you think we can look for Prince Alexi?” she asked.

  “I’ll make some phone calls as soon as we get settled at the ranch. If he and Kerry Lynn are around, I’ll be able to find them.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Mrs. Jacks lives here and works at the Four Square Café. I can find out, like I said before, which relatives Kerry Lynn was visiting and start there. Besides, there aren’t many secrets in a small town,” Hank said with another grin. “Especially in Ranger Springs.”

  “I hope you’re right. The longer the prince is gone, the stronger my urge to shake him grows.”

  Hank laughed. “He really ticked you off. I’m surprised. When you first showed up at the ranch a few days ago, you didn’t seem all that angry.”

  “Looks can be deceiving…as I’m sure you can appreciate.”

  “You’re right. Who would have thought you could have made a silk purse out of a sow’s ear like me?”

  “Oh, that’s not what I meant at all! Please, don’t compare yourself to a pig’s ear.” He was much more than some raw material that needed to be processed into something else. He’d taken the role seriously, learning when he’d seemed to be loafing, applying himself so effortlessly that she hadn’t realized how hard he was trying.

  “Thanks. I’ve learned a lot about wining and dining with the rich and famous.”

  A suspicion popped into her head. Suddenly, Hank’s involvement in her dilemma made sense. “Was that why you really agreed to help me? So you could learn etiquette and protocol?”

  Hank shrugged as he pulled onto his property. “Seemed like a good idea.”

  “But why?”

  “The people who can afford quality cutting horses have a lot of money. Some of them are just good ol’ boys like me, but a lot of them are athletes, movie stars and businessmen who want an exciting hobby.”

  “I see.” He wanted to know how to mingle with his potential clients. How very clever of him to use her proposal for such a purpose.

  He slowed over a rutted section of road and gave her a heart-stopping grin. “You’re a damned good teacher.”

  “Milos did most of the instruction.”

  “Then you’re a damned fine inspiration.”

  She sat back in the leather seat and permitted a genuine smile. Sometimes cowboys gave the nicest compliments.

  HE’D NEVER SEEN ANYONE less adept at ranch living than Lady Wendy, although she did give it a good British try. The problem was that she wanted everything to be neat, orderly and immediate. Unfortunately, horses, weather and cowboys weren’t influenced much by the need of an English aristocrat to get them organized.

  He leaned back against the fence and smiled as she picked her way across the clumpy grass that separated the house from the barn. As yards went, it wasn’t much to look at, but the grass would be dry and brown by the end of June, anyway, so nobody bothered with mowing or fertilizing.

  She was still wearing the clothes he’d bought for her just that morning in Austin, although she’d taken off her baseball cap once they’d gotten into the truck. Except for the way she was walking across the yard—as if she was going to trip and fall flat on her face—she looked damned fine in those jeans and the body-hugging shirt.

  He’d like to see her really relax like she’d done that night in San Antonio when he’d filled her up with tequila sunrises. He’d bet those nice curvy hips of hers would look real good if she’d just let herself go with the flow. Right now she looked more like a determined little tugboat than a fine sailing vessel.

  “We need to make those phone calls,” she said as she stopped in front of him and shaded her eyes against the midday sun.

  “What you need is a real hat, Lady Wendy, not that little cap I got for you in Austin. I’m gonna look for one around the house and tack room.”

  “Very well, but I’d like to find Prince Alexi before nightfall, if possible. He’s still not answering his mobile.”

  “As soon as I go into the house, I’ll look up Kerry Lynn’s momma’s number.”

  “Can you do it now?”

  “I really need to see this horse.” He’d talked to his friend Travis about the new arrival and wanted to see the horse for himself.

  “Surely the prince is more important than a horse.”

  “Whoa, now. You’re the one who lost the prince. I’ve still got a ranch to run, and this horse arrived for training while we were runnin’ around Austin with the rich folks and politicians. I need to see to him first.”

  She took in a deep breath as though she was going to blast him for his attitude, but apparently thought better of it. She let out her breath slowly. “I thought we were in agreement about the need to find the prince now.”

 
; “Absolutely. And as soon as I see this horse move, I’ll get my butt right inside the house and call Mrs. Jacks.”

  He could tell Lady Wendy wasn’t happy by her tight lips and stiff posture. Fortunately, she didn’t say another word as Hank transferred his attention to the man who was closing the gate.

  “Let him go, Juan,” Hank shouted across the big pen.

  A flashy bay gelding lunged forward as soon as the lead rope was unfastened, his black mane and tail rippling with every move. Hank wasn’t sure if the horse could work cattle, but he sure had style. His burnished brown coat had red highlights just like this English lady’s hair—not that she’d appreciate being compared to a horse.

  “Oh, he’s beautiful,” Lady Wendy sighed as she grasped the fence and watched the gelding circle in a bouncing trot.

  “He is that. Now we need to see if he has cow sense and intelligence.”

  “How will you do that?”

  “You expect me to tell you all my secrets, Lady Wendy? Why, you might just take my trainin’ techniques back to Merry Old England and make those fox hunters into cuttin’ horses. Then your daddy and his friends would be roundin’ up cows instead of pickin’ on those poor little foxes.”

  Hank watched her smile, then laugh, at the mental image of English gentlemen herding cattle. She didn’t laugh nearly often enough. The joy transformed her face, making her appear much more the woman and less the bossy, cool and efficient managerial type. Not that she wasn’t really good at her job. Heck, she could probably run his ranch—administratively, at least—with one arm tied behind her back. He admired that in a person. But at the moment, he was more interested in her as a woman.

  That bothered him. He kept forgetting they didn’t have a relationship outside this prince fiasco. As soon as Lady Wendy didn’t need him any longer, she’d be gone faster than he could say “scoot.”

  But for now, she needed him…

  “Let him run a little and unwind, Juan. We’ll start working with him tomorrow.” Hank turned away from the new bay gelding and Lady Wendy’s genuine smiles. She was right; he needed to get to work on her problem so both of them could get on with their real lives.