The Prince's Wedding Read online

  "—doing? Do you know how long you've been gone, and what time it is?"

  * * *

  "Do you realize we've all been in a panic for hours? Mrs. Winstead has been calling everyone in Shady Rock. Lloyd has been driving all over, searching. And Eliya is so upset even Luke started to cry."

  She was glad it was dark so he couldn't see her blush. The hands were used to her occasional trips up here, but the others weren't. Even Joe hadn't been, because while he'd been on the ranch, she'd never wanted to wander any farther than her bedroom. With him.

  "I didn't mean to worry anyone," she said meekly.

  "Well, you did! We were worried sick. I thought something had happened to you, a fall, a snake, who knows what. I thought I'd lost you all over again."

  And in that instant, by the light of her fire there on the bluff, she saw Joe looking at her out of Lucas's eyes. Her Joe, with all the love he'd felt for her burning bright in his gaze. Her breath caught, and in that instant he grabbed her and pulled her to him.

  "I thought I'd lost you," he repeated, his voice broken. And he held her as he had before, as Joe, as if she were the center of his world. As if he were desperate. As if he needed her as much as she needed him.

  His hands moved over her urgently, as if he simply had to touch her to be sure she was indeed alive and well. Jessie's heart was pounding with elation, with pure joy as she realized there was something of Joe's love for her left in this man, somewhere.

  She wasn't sure when it changed from concern to something hotter, wilder, she only knew that here in this place that was so important to her, it felt so right she couldn't, didn't want to resist. And once he kissed her, the old familiar fire leapt as if it had been merely banked all these months and had never truly gone out.

  He tasted so wonderfully familiar, yet after the long, lonely time without him, exotically new. He deepened the kiss, probing, teasing, and she opened for him, welcoming him with an eagerness that surprised her even as it swept over her. But she should have known, she realized in some part of her mind that wasn't yet swamped by the sudden onslaught of sensation. She should have known, because Joe had always been able to do this to her, as no man ever had.

  His mouth was hard, demanding, insistent on hers, but unnecessarily; she wouldn't—couldn't—refuse him. Not now, not here in this place. That same part of her mind that was still functioning pointed out that this was no longer Joe but Lucas, but it was the last gasp of common sense before, as his hands began to move over her body, a wave of pleasure pushed out every logical thought.

  At last he broke the kiss, and she nearly cried out at the loss of that sweet touch. She pressed herself against him, mutely begging him not to stop.

  "Jessie," he said, his voice low and harsh.

  "Please," she whispered.

  "You do remember. You do remember what it was like between us."

  "I could never forget," she told him.

  She kissed him this time, reaching up and slipping her hands behind his neck to pull him down to her. Again the fire sparked, blazed to life, and the chilly night air was nothing against the heat they generated. The campfire she'd built was needless, forgotten.

  "Please," she said again, and Lucas groaned.

  He took her down to the blankets with exquisite care. Jessie clung to him, giving herself silent permission to let go all her reservations for this one last, glorious time. Her hands began to move, stroking, caressing, his face, his hair, his chest, his belly, and the already rigid flesh behind his zipper. She gasped in anticipation, remembering how that flesh filled her, stretched her, made her whole again.

  Soon Lucas would go back to his world, she would be left in hers, and this would be all she had, so she had to make it strong enough and powerful enough to last that lonely lifetime.

  * * *

  Lucas groaned deep in his throat, hardly able to believe what was happening. He'd worked so hard at not pushing her, not rushing her that now, with her hands all over him in a way he'd not been touched since the night he'd walked out on her, he was nearly dizzy with the power of it.

  But there was something desperate in her touch, in the way she held on to him. He didn't understand exactly what it was, but on some deep level he knew what he had to do. He had to remind her so completely of how incredible it was between them, that she would never, ever, want to give it up. With his memory intact he knew now, more than ever, how special what they'd found together was.

  Now he had to convince her of that; convince her it was worth any sacrifice.

  He set about doing so with full intention, stroking, caressing, kissing until she was writhing beneath his touch. Her body had changed, he thought. She'd already put some much needed weight back on, but it was more than that. Her body had a slight roundness, a fullness that hadn't been there before. That the change had happened because she'd borne his child made her even more enticing, and he had to stifle another groan.

  By the time they hastily shed their clothes, they were both so hot the chilly night air and the hard ground had little impact. Still, he pulled one of the blankets up over them; he didn't want her distracted by anything, wanted her to think only of how good this was.

  His plan backfired. In working to arouse her to a fever pitch, he brought himself to an agony of readiness. When at last she cried out, begging him to take her, he'd never been so achingly hard, never shuddered with the sheer effort of maintaining control.

  He slid into her welcoming body, and her name broke from him as her slick, hot flesh clasped him so tightly, so perfectly. His control snapped, and he drove hard and deep, wanting to be so deeply inside her he could never be lost again.

  She called out again, his name this time, and that it was Joe instead of Lucas didn't bother him; he knew that inside him Joe still lived, treasuring this life and the woman who had saved him. He lost track of what he'd meant to do as his senses spiraled out of control, every slumbering nerve leapt to life and blazed with the heat he'd found with her, only with her.

  He barely hung on long enough. The moment he heard her cry out, felt her body convulse around his, squeezing him with an unbearable sweetness, he let go and plummeted after her. Their exultant cries were swallowed by the vast silence of a Colorado night, and when they lapsed into silence only the moon watched over them.

  * * *

  Jessie sighed and stretched. At this moment a couple of blankets spread over hard ground was the most luxurious bed she'd ever slept in. And it was all because of the man beside her, the man who had driven her wild beneath a winter night sky. Her body had blazed to life as if it had been just yesterday that he'd touched her like that, as if the intervening months alone and scared had never happened.

  She savored his heat as he held her close. With him pressed tightly to her, she could feel tiny ripples going through him, like the pleasant aftershocks going through her body that were only now beginning to fade.

  Finally, Lucas let out a long, compressed breath that held a note of awe. She wondered if he, too, was stunned by how quickly and completely they had rekindled that old passion, by how swiftly it had raged anew as if there had never been any time or distance between them.

  He reached over and tugged the blanket over her bare shoulder. For a long time they simply lay there, looking up at the stars, but eventually Lucas spoke softly.

  "We have to work this out, Jessie."

  She sighed, wishing she could have had just this one night without the intrusion of reality. "The only thing that's changed is that we know.. .it's still as good as it was."

  "The sex? Yes, it is. But that's only part of why we can't let it slip away." He lifted himself up on one elbow to look down at her. "You've always been fair-minded, Jessie. Be fair about this. You haven't even seen my home, met my family, yet you're making a life-impacting decision about them."

  What he said made sense, but she was certain there was nothing that would change her mind about this. "I can't let my son grow up like that."

  "Be honest
, Jessie. You don't really know what it's like. And it's not like you to be judgmental. If it was, you never would have hired me when I didn't even know my name, let alone anything else. You gave me, Joe, a chance. It's only fair you give Montebello a chance, too."

  He had, she had to admit, a point. As if he'd sensed her uncertainty, he pressed on.

  "If you won't give that chance to me as Lucas, give it to Luke's father. I deserve that much."

  She felt buffeted, helpless. "What do you want me to do?"

  "Come home with me, just for a visit. See Montebello, meet my parents, my people."

  She didn't know how to tell him that royal assumption, "my people," had just quashed any hopes she might have had that something could be worked out. There was simply no way, no middle ground as long as he refused to compromise on Luke's future.

  But she couldn't deny one thing. As Luke's father, as the man who had brought her son home to her, he did deserve at least that much.

  "All right," she said at last, reluctantly. "I'll come. For a visit. But that's all," she warned.

  "Thank you," he said, accepting her grudging offer in a voice so fervent she knew she'd done the right thing. For now, at least. Even though she knew she could never surrender her son to such a life.

  And when Lucas made love to her again, this time with a gentle passion that warmed her to the soul, she ached with the wish that it could last forever.

  Chapter 9

  Lucas was very aware that Jessie wasn't happy about the decision she'd made, but he himself was delighted. Acceding to her wishes, he'd set a departure date of next Monday, although he was eager to go now. He just knew that once he got her to Montebello, his home would work its own special magic. She would see that all her fears were groundless, and they could begin to plan for their—and Luke's—future.

  Jessie, meanwhile, was running from dawn to dusk, determined to make sure the ranch was well taken care of during her absence. He thought concern about the ranch was all it was, this forced busyness, until he caught her with Brat in the buckskin's stall, weeping against the horse's satin neck. Then he realized just how unhappy she was. He went to her and pulled her into his arms. He was about to ask what was wrong, but realized he didn't want to hear the answer. He was afraid it would be that she'd changed her mind and refused to go with him, and he didn't know how he was going to deal with that.

  So instead he just held her, and she seemed to come back to herself.

  "I'm sorry," she finally murmured. "I don't usually dwell on a decision once it's made. But the last time I left home, I was terrified I'd never see it again. I guess I'm still a little edgy about leaving."

  "That's understandable, after what you went through," he said, relieved this was all it was, and thankful for her honesty. But then, Jessie had always been honest. "But it will be all right. You'll see."

  She let out a sigh, but said nothing. Worried that she wasn't going to be able to give his home a fair chance, he impulsively asked, "Do you want to bring Brat? We could have her flown, easily."

  Jessie backed up and stared at him. He let her go. "Halfway around the world?" she asked.

  "We do it all the time, when someone buys one of our horses. One of the planes can be refitted for horse transport in a matter of hours."

  "You have a plane just for your horses?"

  "We're an island," he said with a shrug. "It's only practical."

  "Oh." She ran her hands up and down her arms as if chilled, although the barn wasn't cold.

  "I can call and have them send it for her, if you want to bring her."

  It was a long silent moment before Jessie slowly shook her head. "No. No, that won't be necessary."

  The formality of her words and tone bothered him, but he wasn't sure why.

  "You're sure?"

  "Yes." She turned and walked to the door of Brat's stall. When she got there, she looked back at him. "I won't be there long enough for it to be worth it."

  She left him there, deflated, wondering what he'd really gained by getting her to agree to come with him.

  Jessie clung to Luke as if the baby were her only link to reality. And that's how it felt to her—this entire morning seemed surreal.

  Leaving the ranch had been bad enough, but somehow the luxurious limousine had made it worse, as if she'd already crossed the line into a different world that wouldn't let go. This time Lloyd rode up front with the driver, and Eliya either dozed or pretended to. Jessie occupied herself with making Luke giggle, pretending she didn't notice Lucas watching them intently, a soft smile curving that luscious mouth of his.

  She had settled in for a long drive, so when they turned off at the small county airport she looked up in surprise. Then she realized she'd been foolish, thinking they would have to get to a commercial airport. Of course the Sebastianis flew whenever and wherever they pleased, and their personal planes waited at their beck and call.

  The limo came to a halt beside a sleek, twin engine jet parked near the edge of the small airport's single runway. Painted in a red and gray pattern she found nicely subtle, the plane looked bigger—and faster—than she would have imagined.

  The door was open, and a gangway was down. At the bottom of the stairs was a man in a uniform she didn't recognize, but judging from the black, white and gold color scheme, the same as the Montebellan flag, she guessed he was employed by Montebello or the Sebastianis.

  "If there's any difference," she muttered to herself.

  Lloyd exited the front seat, came back quickly and opened the limo door. Lucas stepped outside, then leaned back in and reached to take Luke from her. For an instant she hesitated, and she saw something pained flicker in Lucas's eyes, as if he thought she didn't trust him with the baby.

  "It's just hard to let go of him," she said softly.

  Lucas's face changed then. He reached out and touched her cheek with the backs of his fingers. The gentle touch sent her mind rocketing back to that night at the lookout, the night that had brought her to this.

  She'd made her decision then, she thought. And she had promised him to give this a fair chance. It wasn't fair to hold back.

  She held Luke out to him. He took the baby gently, yet with assurance, with none of the fumbling of the brand-new parent. In fact, she thought wryly, he handled Luke more easily than she did, which reminded her painfully that Lucas had had him much longer than she had.

  She got out of the vehicle, and followed Lucas to the foot of the gangway. She stopped, doubt assailing her as she looked up the steep stairway.

  "It will be all right, Jessie."

  Lucas's voice from behind her was soft, coaxing. She'd heard that tone before, when Joe had been soothing a restless horse. She turned to look at him.

  "I'm not a horse and I'm not going to bolt," she told him. "I just need a moment to resign myself."

  Again pain flickered in his eyes. "I'm delighted to be going home, and you have to resign yourself."

  She hadn't meant to hurt his feelings. "I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have said that. I agreed to this, so I should at least not be sullen about it."

  "I suppose it's too much to ask you to look forward to it? People do, you know. They come from all over the world to vacation in Montebello. San Sebastian is one of the most visited capitals in the world."

  Perhaps she could do that, she thought. Consider it a vacation, of a kind thousands of people dreamed of all through long, cold winters. Besides, all vacations had an end, and when it came, you went home. If she hung on to that, maybe she could relax about this whole thing.

  "I'll try," she said.

  "That's all I ask, Jessie. That's all I ask."

  She walked up the steps with that determination firm in her mind.

  And almost lost it the moment she stepped into the plane.

  She had never seen anything like this. This wasn't a plane, she thought, it was a flying five-star hotel suite. The carpet was plush, in a deep, rich burgundy bordered in navy blue, as was the upholstery. The tr
im was some rich, dark wood that she had no doubt was exotic and expensive. To one side was a large table of the same wood, polished to a high gloss. Judging by the large leather chair behind it, it served as a desk.

  All of the seats had a view of small video screens placed throughout the main cabin. At the back of the cabin was a wet bar, and even from here she could see the warm, gold glow of the fixtures. Real gold? Probably, she thought.

  The only sign they were in a structure that moved were the discretely same-colored seat belts at every seat.

  "The Wright brothers never imagined," she said as she finally stepped into Wonderland.

  "It's a beauty, isn't it?" Lucas said. "Redstone makes great planes. We could almost make it without refueling, if we pushed our luck."

  "Let's not," she said dryly. "How far is it?"

  "About sixty-seven hundred miles. We've got a range of over six thousand, if we hold it down to Mach point eight."

  "Hold it down?" she nearly yelped.

  He nodded. "If we push it up to over Mach point eight-five, we drop about a thousand miles in range."

  "Mach point eight-five," she echoed faintly. Mach was a word she'd always associated with fighter jets and space vehicles. Not private planes, and certainly nothing she'd ever intended to be in herself.

  "All the necessities, too. Full head with a shower. A fully furnished stateroom, plus bunks for support personnel. Galley's fully equipped, too, and Mareta is an excellent cook if you want something."

  "No, thank you," Jessie said, reeling a little from all this. How on earth had Joe ever thought her ranch house warm and cozy, when it was nothing less than shabby next to this? Of course, Joe hadn't remembered this, but still, surely some part of him knew her scarred wood floors and slightly worn furniture weren't what he was used to?