Читать книгу The Prince's Texas Bride / The Reluctant Princess: The Prince's Texas Bride / The Reluctant Princess - Leanne Banks, Raye Morgan - Страница 7

The full moon wasn’t offering any answers.

Eve Jackson sat in the small palace courtyard and drank in the scent of blooming flowers and ocean air as she debated the most recent offer she’d received from the official representative of the Royal House of Devereaux. She still wasn’t sure she could possibly fit in as the chief stable master for the royal horses. She was from Texas, for Pete’s sake, and had never traveled out of the States before this week. She’d been raised to say “yes, ma’am” and “no, sir,” but the idea of performing a curtsy made her laugh every time she even thought of it.

The lure of the job, however, was too tempting for words. Her current job as a regional manager for a major hotel chain bored her so much that there were days she was tempted to poke herself in the eye with a pencil. Training horses was her first love, but when Eve had received the opportunity to go to college, she’d chosen a practical, marketable degree. Her parents had been so poor that she’d been sent off to her Aunt Hildie for most of her teen years.

Training this stable of horses was her dream job and she’d been offered a startling amount of money to do it. But she wondered if she could be happy here in a place and culture so far removed from rural Texas. And there was another concern. She felt a shift of air against her skin and her nerve endings prickled in awareness. She wasn’t alone. Glancing around, she saw Prince Stefan Devereaux, tall with his chiseled features unsoftened by the moonlight, watching her from just a few feet away.

Crap, she thought, trying to remember what the proper protocol was for greeting the ruler of Chantaine. She stood because she figured she wasn’t supposed to remain seated. Crap, she thought again. Was he supposed to speak first? It seemed rude to just stare back at him.

“Hi, Your Highness,” she said. “How’s it going?”

His lips twitched and he moved toward her. “Fine, thank you, Ms. Jackson. I hope you’re enjoying your visit to my country.”

“It’s beautiful,” she said. “Though much smaller than Texas. Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” she rushed to say, in case he thought she was insulting his country.

“Yes, it is, to both of your observations. My representative told me he presented you with the latest offer, but you haven’t given him an answer,” Stefan said. “The terms are generous. Why haven’t you accepted?”

Demanding and direct, she thought, but she supposed he had the right. This was the third offer his representative had made to her, and the palace was paying for her trip to Chantaine. Eve had met Prince Stefan Devereaux of Chantaine on two other occasions. Both times, he’d surprised her. From his sister Tina, Eve had gotten the impression that he was a pompous prig. He was. For some reason, she’d also expected him to be prissy and ignorant. He was neither.

“Are you uneasy about living so far from your home?” he asked and paused a half beat. “I was under the impression you were more adventurous than that.”

She lifted her chin at the subtle challenge in his tone. “It’s a big move. I have to make sure it’s the right one.”

“You don’t have children or a husband. You’re young and free. What’s holding you back?” he asked. “Or is there another concern?” He studied her for a moment. “If there is, you must tell me. If you’re not going to accept the offer, we need to know. I must fill this position. My horses deserve consistent care.”

“Your country is beautiful. I want to work with your horses,” she said and decided to blurt it out. “I’m just not sure about this royal thing. I’m not big on the curtsy and I’m likely to mess up how to address you and others.”

“No need to curtsy unless it’s a public situation. I can have one of the advisers prompt you if necessary. When you and I are alone, you may call me Stefan. In public, it’s Your Highness. It’s quite simple,” he said dismissively. “What else?”

“I’m not sure about the chain of command. Who is my boss? Your aide or you?”

“I am,” he said. “I may deliver instructions through an assistant, but you answer to me. If you have any questions or concerns, you may approach me directly if I’m available. Anything else?” he asked, a faint thread of impatience sliding into his voice.

“Just one thing,” she said, meeting his gaze but preparing herself for a big, fat turndown. “If you choose to fire me, I want six months’ pay and my airfare back to the States.”

His Royal Highness blinked. “Why would you request such a thing?”

“What happened to your last stable master?”

“He was fired because he wasn’t doing his job properly,” Stefan said.

“And the one before?” she asked.

“He was fired for negligence.” Stefan narrowed his eyes. “Are you suggesting I’m a difficult employer?”

“I’m suggesting that when prized horses, powerful men and women grow accustomed to getting their way they can become … temperamental.”

Stefan met her gaze and his lips twitched once again. “I don’t recall ever being compared to a prized horse, but I’ll choose to take it as a compliment. I’ll meet your conditions if you’ll meet mine. You must move to Chantaine within two weeks.”