His admission made her cry all over again. By the time she stopped, she realized the Land Rover was no longer moving.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m just trying to decide if we should turn around or drop me off first and let Mr. Boedecker take you back to Ranger Springs.” Alexi leaned forward and asked, “How far are we from the airport?”
“Maybe another half an hour,” the driver said.
“Then I think we should continue. I really need to get on the plane before I decide to join Lady Gwendolyn when she runs away.”
“Am I really running away?”
“Yes, you are,” he said. “After all these years of putting up with my sudden absences, you get to experience the pure joy of running away. Or, in this case, running toward your destiny.”
“I’ll miss the challenge of your sudden disappearances,” she answered with a sad smile.
“I’ll miss you, too, but nothing says you have to stay in Texas all the time. You know where I’ll be if you want to visit.”
“And you know where I’ll be.”
His eyes lost their sparkle when he replied, “I believe I’d better stay away from Texas for a while. Perhaps a dozen years or so. Perhaps after I marry the woman my father chooses and produce my own little heirs.”
“Oh, Alexi.”
“Don’t feel sorry for me, Gwendolyn. I’ve known where my duty rests for years.”
But Alexi hadn’t know he was going to be the crown prince of Belegovia when he was growing up, and therein lay the problem. “Yes, but—”
“There is no ‘but’ in the royal palace,” Alexi said. He leaned toward the front seat. “Continue on to the airport, Mr. Boedecker. Then take Lady Gwendolyn back to Ranger Springs posthaste.”
“I believe,” she said with a smile she felt all the way through to her toes, “that you’d best become accustomed to calling me Wendy.”
HE HAD A LOT OF WORK backed up, Hank thought as he pulled on an old pair of jeans and boots. He rolled up the sleeves of his worn chambray shirt and tried to think of the new bay gelding he’d gotten in two days ago, the upcoming quarter horse sale, and all his plans for his future.
His efforts were about as futile as recalling the multiplication tables while making love—sometimes a man just had to concentrate on what was important. And right now, the most important person in his life was boarding a plane for Belegovia.
He jammed his hat on his head, pulled the brim low over his eyes and stalked toward the barn. The horses didn’t train themselves. They also didn’t clean out their own stalls or fill up their feed buckets. Fortunately for him, he had plenty to do since Juan was off on Sunday. Nothing like chores to keep his mind off losing the woman he loved, he thought as he charged through the door of the tack room.
A half an hour later, tired and sweating from working the new horse on the lunge line, he pulled off his hat and wiped his forehead. Hard work in the hot sun hadn’t made him forget his Lady Wendy. He wondered how long, how many days, before he could get through five minutes without thinking of her.
He hadn’t given up on going to Belegovia to fetch her home…if she didn’t come to her senses soon, admit she loved him and come back on her own. If he did have to go get her, she’d be all upset at first, but he was pretty sure that if he could kiss her and call her darlin’, she’d be back in his arms for good. Eventually.
He had to convince her they were one-hundred-percent right for each other. He’d have to be better than when he was playing Prince Alexi, because the stakes were a lot higher than the future of some country or the wishes of some king.
He settled his hat back on his head and looked back at the bay. The horse stared back, his ears flicking back and forth as if he was listening to something. Just as Hank was about to snap the end of the long lunge line, signaling the workout to resume, the sound of a vehicle on the gravel road broke through the silence of the afternoon.
Hank closed his eyes and said a silent prayer that the paparazzi and tabloid journalists hadn’t driven out here to harass him. Didn’t they have their story? Weren’t they convinced he and Kerry had run off for a few days of slap and tickle at the beach?
He wanted to ignore the sound of the gravel crunching, but he couldn’t. No telling what those crazy journalists would do while looking for a story. With a sigh he gathered in the lunge line and walked the gelding toward the fence.
He looked through the rails. Whoever was coming was in a black SUV, churning up dust in its wake. He blinked, not sure what he was seeing for a moment. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him, but it looked like Prince Alexi’s Land Rover.
Instead of tying the gelding, he unclipped the lunge line and turned the horse loose inside the pen. With his eyes still focused on the Land Rover, Hank swung open the gate and walked toward the open area between the house and barn.
Damn those dark tinted windows! He couldn’t see inside as the SUV came to a stop sideways in the drive. Had the whole group returned? Did they need something else from him?
Pete Boedecker opened the driver’s door, then walked around the back and removed a suitcase and overnight case. Hank heard the back door slam as he stood staring at the Land Rover. In just a moment, Pete walked around the driver’s door, flashed him a grin and a thumbs-up sign and got inside. He started the engine, put the SUV in gear and drove away.
Leaving Hank staring at Lady Gwendolyn Reed.
She stood there in that prissy, too-hot wool suit she’d worn to the press conference, her hands clasped in front of her. He couldn’t see the expression on her face, but as he strode toward her, he vowed he would. See her, talk to her, touch her.
Then he was taking her inside and not letting her out again until she decided to stay forever.
He stopped in front of her, his heart racing, as he waited for her to explain why she was here.
She tilted her chin up and said, “You never did tell me what your fee was for pretending to be the prince. Other than that one night on the Riverwalk, which I believe was partial payment.”
“So you’re here to settle up?”
“Yes.”
“All by yourself?”
“Yes,” she answered, looking a little nervous. “Prince Alexi is already on his jet, probably in the air right now.”
Hank stepped closer until they were toe to toe. “I don’t suppose you brought the Belegovian treasury with you.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Then, darlin’, there’s only one way I can get paid for my time.”
“And what is that?”
He picked her up in his arms. “My fee for impersonatin’ the prince, for putting up with all that fussin’, for lyin’ to the press and my friends, is you.”
“Me?”
“Yes.” He narrowed his eyes and frowned. “For someone who usually has a lot to say, you’re awfully quiet. Are you gonna answer in one-syllable words forever?”
“No,” she said, grinning as she looped her arms around his neck.
Hank nodded toward the luggage. “Do you have anything in there with red lace, cut low at the top and high at the bottom?”
“No, I don’t. Why?”
“I’m just tryin’ to decide if there’s any reason I should carry your luggage into the house before I make love to you.”
Wendy laughed, then her expression sobered. “You were right, Hank. Alexi made me realize several things about myself, but mostly he made me believe that what I was feeling was real. I was afraid to trust my heart.” She paused, her whiskey eyes serious as she gazed at him. “I love you, Hank.”
He kissed her, then whispered against her lips. “I love you, too, darlin’.”
“And I love your ranch. I don’t want to be anywhere else on earth but right here, with you.”
“Good, because I was tryin’ to be real patient. I’d probably have given you until next week to come to your senses. Then I would have flown over there and brought you back home.”
“Home,” she sai
d, looking around with misty eyes. “I like the sound of that.”
“Good, because I can’t just up and move. There’s not a real big market for cuttin’ horses in England.”
“And where would we ever find an aquifer-fed pool, or a Texas sunset? Or go walking along the river like in San Antonio?”
“Heck, darlin’, I haven’t even shown you most of the state. We’re barely gettin’ to the good parts.”
“How long do you think that will take?” she asked, running her cool hand down the side of his face.
“About fifty or sixty years.”
She leaned close and whispered against his lips, “Perfect.”
He kissed her in the middle of his yard, with the Texas sun beating down on them and the smells of approaching summer drifting through the hills. And then he carried her inside the house, her luggage forgotten as he made love to her…and made her the lady of his heart forever.
ISBN: 978-1-4603-6856-5
THE PRINCE’S COWBOY DOUBLE
Copyright © 2003 by Victoria Chancellor Huffstutler.
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* A Royal Twist
The Prince's Cowboy Double Page 20