The Prince's Texas Bride (13 page)

 

Eve spent the following day feeling emotionally tortured. She had done the stupid, stupid, stupid thing of
falling in love with Stefan. From the beginning, they'd both known their relationship would be temporary, but she had not been able to turn herself away from him. In retrospect, her feelings for him had been like a runaway train and all she could do was hold on for dear life.

Now, big things were at stake, such as the future of Stefan's family legacy and his ability to help his country the way he needed to help them. Eve knew Stefan well enough that she understood his duty to his country ran deeper than his blood. He would do anything for the citizens of Chantaine, and she loved him for that devotion. She also knew that his feelings for her ran deeper than either she or he had expected. She couldn't allow him to be swayed by his feelings for her. They would pass.

Her stomach knotted at the thought. But she told herself it was the truth. There were women lined up around the world ready, willing and able to be Stefan's wife. Women far more refined and polished than she would ever be. She just didn't know how she could make him understand.

She heard the door to the barn open and stepped out of Gus's stall. She wondered if it was one of her apprentices. Eve was fortunate to have plenty of help taking care of Stefan's stables. She walked toward the barn entrance and stopped when she saw the backlit figure of the adviser she'd met last night.

“Mr. Gunter?”

“Yes, and you are Ms. Jackson, correct?” he said and sneezed into his elbow. He walked a few steps farther and sneezed again. “Excuse me. I'm allergic to horses, dogs, cats and hay.”

She dipped her head. “We have a lot of hay and
horses around here. Are you looking for something in particular?”

“Yes,” he said, sniffing. “I was looking for you. May we speak in private?”

Eve felt a nauseating sense of dread. She knew she didn't want to have this conversation. “Unless it concerns the horses, I'm not sure it's necessary,” she said.

“It concerns the owner of the horses,” the adviser said. “Please,” he said. “I won't take much of your time.” The
please
got her. It usually did. “Okay. There's an office this way,” she said and led the way.

She heard the adviser sneeze three times. “Would you prefer to talk somewhere else, outside of the barn where you'll be less miserable?” she asked.

“This is fine,” he said. “Thank you, though, for your consideration.” He closed the door behind him. “It's very rare that I would consider directly interfering in Prince Stefan's private life, but he's an exceptional man and I believe he has an exceptional future. I believe he can bring a new sense of hope and change to Chantaine. He's not content to operate the same way his father did. His Royal Highness is a workaholic. He has a passion for Chantaine. Because of that, I feel compelled to protect him from an—” He paused. “An impulsive decision that could prevent him from fulfilling what he believes is his destiny.”

Eve took a breath. Mr. Gunter was only saying what she'd expected and in her heart of hearts, she agreed with him. “You're talking about the relationship Stefan and I share,” she said.

“He believes he's in love with you,” the adviser said bluntly.

“And you don't,” she said.

Gunter sighed. “I must look at the big picture. As
lovely and caring as you are, you are still a commoner and an American,” he said as if her nationality were a detriment.

Eve couldn't hold a stone face at the slur against her country. “What's wrong with being American?”

The adviser lifted his hands. “Nothing, but if Stefan chose to marry a commoner, it would be best if he married a woman from Chantaine.

“For a prince, marriage is about more than love. It's a way to seal ties with other countries, secure trade agreements.”

“What you're saying is it's business,” she said.

“In a way,” he said.

“But what about Stefan's heart?” she asked. “Who's going to look after that? Will you? Can I count on you to make sure that he gets a woman who will love him, love Stephenia, ride horses with him, respect him, challenge him when necessary, make him laugh, make him relax, make him think?” She ran out of breath.

Gunter shot her a considering gaze. “You are more than I thought you would be,” he said, then wrinkled his brow as he thought. He sneezed into his sleeve, then nodded to himself. “In the past, happiness has not been a primary consideration when choosing a wife. It didn't hurt if the woman was beautiful and intelligent, but in general, what she could bring to benefit Chantaine was considered more important. What you're saying is that Stefan's happiness should be considered. I agree and I will make it my mission to make sure that the prince achieves the best match possible and that includes a woman who will indeed love him and, as you say, make him laugh. You're an extraordinary woman, Ms. Jackson. I understand the prince's fascination with you.”

She pushed her hair behind her ear. “No need for flattery. I'm going to need to leave Chantaine, aren't I?”

“I'm afraid so, ma'am,” he said.

The realization slashed through her like a sharp knife, and pain twisted and thrust through her. She took a shallow breath and tried to think. Was this the right thing to do? Why did it feel wrong when her brain told her it was right? “I need to keep a commitment to Princess Bridget.”

Gunter nodded. “Of course. Just try not to linger. A clean break will be easiest for all, including yourself.”

“Not sure about that,” she muttered.

“Thank you for meeting with me,” he said, extending his hand. “I wish you every good thing in your future, and if there is anything I can do to assist you, please do call me.”

With mixed feelings, she shook his hand and nodded. “I'm curious, sir. In your role as adviser, have you had to do this kind of thing often?”

“Don't quote me, but many times with Stefan's father. Never with Stefan. And never with such a high-quality individual as yourself. You made it difficult,” he said and shook her hand. “Good luck, Ms. Jackson.”

He turned and left, and Eve felt as if she'd cut out her heart and thrown it on the floor. Filled with confusion, she sank her head into her hands and tried to think of another way. Why did it have to be so hard for both of them? Why? she asked herself and her chest grew tight and her eyes burned with tears.

She loved Stefan. She had to do what was best for him. That meant leaving Chantaine.

That also meant she needed to get the horses in tiptop shape for the next stable master. In the meantime, she created a file of careful notes for each horse for her
successor. She was determined to make the transition as seamless as possible. She reviewed the information with her assistants and spent extra time with them to ensure they understood what needed to be done for each horse.

She successfully avoided Stefan by burying herself in work at the stable, although she missed him and little Stephenia. Wednesday finally arrived and she dressed for the charity event with Princess Bridget.

Bridget picked her up in a limo. “I'm a little nervous,” she said to Eve. “This is one of our disreputable neighborhoods. It's a bit dangerous,” she said.

“I'm proud of you for stepping out of your comfort zone,” Eve said.

Bridget widened her eyes at the compliment and lifted her chin. “Well, thank you. That's high praise coming from you.”

Eve laughed. “What makes you say that?”

Bridget shrugged her shoulders. “You don't seem to be afraid of anything. I would like more of your courage.”

Flattered and touched, Eve patted Bridget's hand. “You already have it. You just haven't used it very much. You would be surprised at what you can accomplish without me,” Eve said.

Bridget stared at her curiously. “Whatever do you mean? That almost sounds like a goodbye and it bloody well better not be,” she said. “Of course you're not leaving. You love the horses and me too much to leave,” she said and laughed.

Eve couldn't find it in her to correct Bridget. Soon enough she would break the news. For now, she understood her role. Support Bridget during this appearance.

“I have some great clothes for this,” she said. “I just hope it all comes together.”

“Just be your encouraging self. I bet you'll be surprised at how well it goes,” Eve said.

“You really believe that?” Bridget asked.

“I really do,” Eve said.

Minutes later, they pulled in front of the old building that served as a community center. Eve noticed groups of young men hanging out on several corners and wondered if Chantaine had gang problems. She shook her head at the thought. Hopefully not.

Once inside, Bridget was introduced by the community center director and she delivered her speech. She also listed several scholarship opportunities and Eve helped to distribute information sheets and applications to the large group. Then the fun began. Bridget, Eve and several other volunteers helped the young women select outfits.

After two hours, it was time for Bridget and Eve to leave. Eve was pleased to see the expression of satisfaction and enthusiasm on Bridget's face.

“Can you believe how excited they were?” Bridget asked as they stepped outside the building to wait for the limo to make its way to the curb. “And not just about the clothes. They really seemed curious about the scholarship opportunities and—”

“Hey, Princess, must be nice living in the castle,” a young man from a large group called as they moved closer. Too close, Eve thought. “When we have nothing.”

Suddenly the group rushed them. From her peripheral vision, Eve saw Bridget freeze. Her guard was opening the limo door. Eve acted on pure instinct.

“Go!” she yelled at Bridget, giving her a hard push
toward the limo and throwing herself in front of the angry group. She felt a jab in her side. Pain rocked through her. Then, another in her chest. It took her breath. She caught the flash of the fist an instant before it hit her in the forehead. Then everything went blessedly black.

 

“There's been an emergency with the princess, sir,” his aide, Pete, said, pulling him from a meeting with a top state official.

“Emergency?” Stefan echoed, his heart sinking. “Who? Bridget or—”

“Princess Bridget, sir,” his aide said, clearly trying to keep his composure. “There was some sort of stampede at the event she and Ms. Jackson attended this afternoon.”

“Eve,” he said, feeling his gut clench with fear. “I need details immediately,” he demanded.

“I have an incoming call from the princess,” his aide said, touching the Bluetooth on his ear. “Princess Bridget wants to speak with you,” he said, handing Stefan his phone.

“Stefan, she was crushed,” Bridget said, sobbing. “That gang came out of nowhere and rushed us. She pushed me away and stepped in front of me and there was nothing I could do,” she said, sobbing between phrases.

His blood turned to ice. “Where is she?” he asked.

“On the way to the hospital.” Her voice broke. “Oh, Stefan, what if she doesn't make it? What if she—”

“You can't think that way. We don't have enough information. Eve is an incredibly strong woman.” He was talking to himself more so than to Bridget, coaching himself not to think the worst.

“Oh, God, I hope so. Before we arrived, she was trying to boost my confidence. It was almost like she knew she was leaving,” Bridget said, her voice full of misery.

“Leaving?” he said and shook his head. “I don't know what you're talking about, Bridget. Are you sure you are okay?”

“Yes, yes, I'm fine,” she said. “But Eve isn't.”

“I'm going to the hospital. I'll give you an update as soon as I hear anything,” he said.

“I want to go,” she said.

“You need to calm down,” he said. “You're in no state to be going to the hospital. I'll call you. I promise. And Bridget,” he said, “I'm very, very glad you're safe.”

“I love you, Stefan.”

“I love you, too,” he said and disconnected the phone. Pete was waiting for instructions. “Call the driver and tell him I want to leave for the hospital immediately. I'll tell Mr. Vincent that I need to reschedule the meeting.”

Although it was mere moments before Stefan walked into the hospital, it had felt like hours. His mind was racing furiously. He'd called to get an update on Eve's condition and he was told the doctors were working on her and that she was unconscious. Because of her head injuries, they were concerned about swelling.

Upon entering the hospital, he was led to a private room to wait. He called Bridget to give her his limited update and was pleased to learn that she had calmed down a bit. She wanted to come to the hospital and he told her there was no use. Even he wasn't allowed to see Eve right now.

The knowledge burned a hole inside him. He paced the room and spoke with the police about the gang that
had stampeded Eve. Several members were already in custody. That brought him little comfort.

Stunned that his lungs were working and that his body was performing almost normally, he couldn't remember feeling this kind of sheer terror at losing someone before. She couldn't die. He couldn't lose her.

She was the one woman who had wanted him for himself and for no other reason. She had defended him and his interests at every opportunity. She had stolen his heart.

Until now, Stefan had chosen not to project far into the future about his relationship with Eve. His position complicated things. The only thing he'd known was that he wanted to keep her as his lover and friend. Now that wasn't enough. The realization was life-changing. The advisers could go hang for all he cared. Some part of him must have known from the first time he met Eve that she was his destiny.