Читать книгу The Prince's Texas Bride / The Reluctant Princess: The Prince's Texas Bride / The Reluctant Princess - Leanne Banks, Raye Morgan - Страница 8

Day two of palace orientation and Eve’s eyes were glazing over.

“Wait for His Royal Highness to address you first. Wait for His Royal Highness to extend his hand first. If you are wearing gloves when greeting His Royal Highness, you need not remove them first. Women need not wear hats before 6:30 p.m.,” the elderly male adviser droned on. “Call the prince by Your Royal Highness on first meeting. Thereafter, if the conversation continues, refer to him as ‘sir.’ Stand whenever a royal enters the room. Never turn one’s back on a royal….“

“Oh, Jonathan, give the poor girl a break,” a young woman said from behind Eve.

Eve whipped her head around, spotting Princess Bridget, whom she’d met during her previous visit to Chantaine. She remembered the underlying, not-quite-buried impatience she’d sensed when she’d met Princess Bridget, a young woman close to her age.

Eve immediately rose and attempted an awkward curtsy.

Princess Bridget waved the gesture aside and tossed her head of brown, wavy hair. “Please don’t. Will you join me for lunch? I need a royal break,” she said. “We can discuss American reality shows.”

“Your Highness,” Eve said, trying to follow the rules she’d just been given.

“Stop, stop,” Bridget said, taking Eve’s hand and pulling her away. “And if you dare call me ma’am, I’ll scream the palace walls down. Please call me Bridget. I’m counting on you to forget everything you’ve learned today so that you and I can become great friends. Thank God we have an American around now. You’re just what we need.”

Eve felt a combination of relief at getting away from the interminable orientation session and anxiety at Princess Bridget’s plans for her. “I don’t really watch a lot of reality TV.”

“Well, I’m sure we’ll come up with something. You know, ever since Tina got pregnant and left Chantaine, I have to do most of the public appearances.” Bridget stopped and met Eve’s gaze. “I’m not well suited for this. Tina was born and bred for this job. It drives me crazy.”

“What specifically about the job drives you crazy?” Eve asked.

Bridget paused, blinking. Her eyebrows knitted in a frown. “I haven’t thought about that. I’ve just been so resentful to be thrust into this right when I was enjoying my time in Italy.”

Eve nodded. “I hated my last job, but it paid very well. After working in that position, I realized that being able to do something that was my passion every day was a gift, if not a luxury.”

Bridget paused again. “How profound. And I was hoping you would be a rebel.”

Eve chuckled. “I am a rebel. I just try to be smart about it.”

“Hmm,” Bridget said. “Maybe I can learn from you. I think we should have champagne for lunch to celebrate your arrival. Dom Pérignon. If Stefan finds out, he’ll be livid. I do so love to make him livid.”

“No champagne for me. I don’t want to start my second day on the job making my boss livid.”

Bridget gave a pout and sighed. “You have a point. It wouldn’t do for him to fire you right off the bat. Chardonnay?”

“And water, please,” Eve said, thinking she definitely needed to remain sober around these Devereaux.

Bridget led her to a small table on a balcony that overlooked the east end of the palace grounds. Floral gardens were surrounded by lush, green grounds with trees that transitioned to rocky cliffs and sandy beaches. The ocean was a mouthwatering shade of azure.

“Beautiful view,” Eve said, shaking her head in wonder. “Stunning.”

Bridget stared out the window and nodded. “Yes, it is, but it can be a bit confining being surrounded by all that water. No easy way out,” she said, then shrugged. “Can’t change that at the moment.” A staff member approached the table with a pitcher of water and filled two glasses. “Thank you, Claire. Could you also bring us a nice bottle of Chardonnay? Is lemon-roasted chicken and a green salad okay with you?” she asked Eve.

“That would be great, thanks,” Eve said, swallowing a secret laugh over the fact that she’d probably be eating peanut butter and jelly on the run if she were at the Logan Ranch.

Bridget met her gaze. “What are your interests? Besides horses, of course,” she said. “Do you like to shop? Do you like music? Art?”

“Yes to music and art. I’m more fickle when it comes to shopping. With my new position here, I imagine I’ll be busy enough in the beginning that I’ll be getting most of my music fix from my iPod. What about you? Are there times of the year that are busier than others?”

“It seems as if it’s always busy since Tina left, but I’m dragging my other sister and brother to participate in the royal appearances more often. I keep nagging Stefan for a vacation, but I think he’s afraid once he lets me off the island, I’ll never return,” she said with a laugh.

“I apologize for my lack of knowledge, but does Chantaine have museums?”

“Two,” Bridget said, not hiding her disapproval. “I’ve tried to talk Stefan into expanding, but he insists that both parliament and the citizens would balk when so many of our people are struggling economically.”

Eve nodded, her mind wandering the way it often seemed to do whenever someone presented her with a problem. “It might go over with everyone better if you could make it a children’s museum,” she mused, and took a sip of her water.

Bridget stared at her for a moment. “That’s a brilliant idea. If you’re this brilliant about everything, it’s no wonder Stefan was so intent on hiring you. You’re right about starting out with a heavy workload, though,” she said sympathetically. “I just remembered there’s a parade in three weeks. The royal horses are featured, ridden by several top leaders and advisers.”

Eve swallowed her water the wrong way and choked. “Three weeks?” she echoed.

Bridget nodded in commiseration. “Yes, and I can’t help but believe that the horses are a little green.” She shuddered delicately. “I hate the image of Count Christo being thrown. He’s eighty-two years old. Sweet man, a little daft. He always insists on bringing a whip with him when he rides in the parade.”

Eve felt her heart sink to her feet. “A whip?” she said, appalled, then sucked in a breath of air. “A whip,” she said again, her voice rising.

Bridget shot Eve a cautious glance. “He hasn’t ever actually used it.”

“But he carries it,” Eve said, distressed. She’d learned the uselessness of whips a long time ago.

“He’s an old man,” Bridget whispered. “It gives him a false feeling of control.”

Eve took another deep breath and clenched her fists in her lap. More than anything, she wanted to run to the stables and begin her work with the horses. More than ever the rest of this palace protocol and orientation seemed like horse crap. She didn’t want to waste one more second. Glancing at Bridget, she saw that dashing away from the princess wouldn’t be possible. She clenched her fists again then released them, resolving that she would head for the stables as soon as the meal was done.

Hours later, after Eve had skipped the afternoon orientation session, she worked with a third of the many palace horses. This one was a gentle palomino mare that, like the others, hadn’t been ridden often enough. She pushed down her anger that the horses hadn’t been exercised. Yet, at the same time, she knew Stefan had been stalling. For her.

A smidge of guilt mixed in with her anger.

The scent of horseflesh reached her on a cellular level as she reined in the palomino. The horse submitted to her, but Eve felt the mare’s urge to run. She would need to ride most of the horses once a day, if not twice during the next weeks. And the whip—God help her. How was she going to get the whip away from Count Christo?

Eve returned the mare to her stall and walked to the separate building that housed the stallion. Black was Arabian and quite the handful. She would work with him first thing in the morning, she decided as she leaned against the wall opposite his stall where he paced restlessly. The good news was that he wasn’t beating down the walls of the barn.

She felt more than heard footsteps approaching and, even before she turned, her nerve endings went on alert. Turning, she saw Stefan’s strong, tall form. Emanating a restless energy and power that reminded her of the stallion, he wore black riding pants and a half-buttoned shirt. His gaze was intent. “I’m the only one who rides Black,” he said.

Eve refused to be intimidated. This was her job now. She would own it. “How often do you ride him?”

“Two or three times a week,” he said. “Hard.”

“He needs a minimum of five times per week,” she told him. “Look at how restless he is.”

“That’s because he’s a stallion,” Stefan said. “Are you questioning my treatment of the horse?”

“Of course,” she said. “That’s why you hired me.”

His mouth lifted in a half grin. “We’ll do Black my way.”

“For a week,” she said. “If he’s still restless, he’ll be ridden more often, and I’ll be the one riding him.”

Stefan chuckled. “You?” He shook his head. “He’s too much for you to handle. He was too much for the previous two men to handle.”

“We’ll see,” she said, confident she could handle Black. She was not nearly as confident about Stefan. She watched him as he approached the stallion. The horse seemed to immediately calm. Stefan placed a bridle and saddle on the horse. He led him out of the stall, mounted him and galloped into the distance.

Chill bumps rose on her arms at the sight of man and horse flying into the moonlight. There was a mystic connection between the two of them that she couldn’t deny. She felt a rush of excitement and tried to temper it with resolve. Stefan was a powerful man, but he had distractions. He wouldn’t be able to ride the stallion every day. He had other demands. It wouldn’t take long before she would step in as a substitute to help Black release some of his energy. Less than a week, she suspected, and she would be ready….

Exactly one week later, Stefan stared into the empty stall of his prized stallion and felt a stab of alarm. Where is Black? Has someone let him out? Escaped? He walked into the stall and stared at the walls. What had—

Realization hit him and his alarm shifted to anger. Eve had taken Black for a ride. She’d told Stefan her plans, but since he’d stated that he would be the only one to ride the stallion, he’d dismissed her statements. He’d assumed she would follow his orders. Frustration rushed through him as he glanced at his watch. He’d left his office later than usual for his ride this evening, but she still shouldn’t have defied his orders.

He paced from one end of the barn to the other, his temper rising with each step. Hearing the sound of hoofbeats outside, he immediately strode to the barn door. He watched in shock as Eve swung off the stallion and led him around the corral for a cooldown. Black loped alongside her as docile as a lamb. He heard her voice, low and somehow seductive, as if she were making small talk with the stallion.

As she turned around, Black glanced upward. The horse must have caught his scent. His ears prickled and he gave a soft whinney before pulling away from Eve and trotting toward him. Stefan felt a measure of satisfaction that Black had left her behind so easily.

“There you go,” Stefan said to the horse, rubbing Black’s sleek throat. “I’ve missed you, too.”

Eve, her hair escaping the long braid that hung down her back, stepped toward Black and Stefan. Her hands rested on her hips, her lips were firm and unsmiling.

“You were told not to ride him,” Stefan said, deliberately keeping his voice mild as he patted the horse.

“And I told you that he needs to be ridden more frequently. If you don’t do it, then I will,” she said. “You’ve only shown up twice this week. He’s been so restless it’s a wonder he didn’t kick down the walls of his stall.”

“It seems you don’t understand. What I say goes about Black,” he said, turning toward her.

She met his gaze. “But you still expect me to be in charge of his health, well-being, diet, etc….“

“Yes,” he said, relieved the impertinent woman was beginning to understand.

She nodded. “Okay. I quit,” she said and turned to walk away.

Stefan stared at her in shock, again. “Bloody hell,” he muttered under his breath. “You can’t quit.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Sure I can. You and I agreed that you would let me be in charge of running the stables. That includes Black. If you’re going to interfere with me performing my job—”

“Interfere,” he repeated, nearly speechless at her lack of respect. “As your employer, it’s my right to agree or disagree with how you conduct your duties. Particularly in regards to Black—”

“Not if your plan isn’t in the best interest of the horse,” she interrupted, surprising him yet again. With the exception of his siblings, very few people interrupted him. “And as far as Black is concerned, you’re not rational about him. Your insistence that you be the only one to ride him is ridiculous. You’re a busy man, leader of a country for Pete’s sake. You have obligations and responsibilities that are more important than making sure your favorite horse is getting enough exercise.”

“I don’t need you to inform me about my position. I make time to ride Black. It’s as much for me as it is for him,” he said, revealing more than he’d intended.

She stared at him for a long moment. “So is this about your ego, or about how going for a midnight ride saves you from the craziness of your position?” she asked softly.

He felt as if she’d stabbed him. What right did she have to judge him? His rides with Black were the only time he felt truly free.

“I’m not trying to step on your toes or prevent you from the pleasure of riding Black. I’m just being realistic. He’s a prize of an animal, smart, powerful and fast,” she said, glancing toward the horse. “But he’s full of energy and if he isn’t exercised more frequently he’s going to be miserable. I don’t think you want that.”

He clenched his teeth then sucked in a quick breath. “How did you do it? No one has been able to ride him except for me.”

She lifted her lips in a smile that made his gut twist. “That’s my secret,” she said. “I’m a horse whisperer,” she said in a self-mocking tone. “That’s why you hired me.”

“For the others,” he said.

“Hmm,” she said with a nod of understanding. “Looks like you have a decision to make. Let me know by morning, and I’ll take the first flight back to Texas.”

He caught her wrist as she turned around and she glanced at him in surprise. “You’re not getting out of the job that easily,” he said. “Ride Black, but do so at your own risk. I’ll let you know which nights I’ll ride him.”

Her gaze searched his face. “So you do have a reasonable bone or two in your body,” she said.

His lips curved in amusement despite the fact that he was still irritated with her. “Of course I do. I’m forced to be reasonable day in and day out with government leaders and advisers.”

“Which is why you really need those rides with Black,” she said.

Her perceptiveness was both a bother and a relief. There weren’t many, if any, people who Stefan allowed close, and he’d been told by more than a few that he was difficult to read. The truth was that his passions always felt as if they were just beneath the surface, ready to burst through, so he felt he had to exert enormous self-control.

Gazing down at her, he saw a combination of compassion and challenge in her dark eyes. Her lips were pursed as if she were trying not to smile. His hand still encircled her wrist and the skin there felt soft in contrast to her spine of steel. What an odd mix of a woman, he thought. He wondered what she was like in bed. He wondered what she would do if he kissed her. A hot visual of her naked beneath him whipped through his mind.

His immediate surge of desire took him by surprise. Eve wasn’t his type. She was argumentative. She had zero understanding of palace affairs. For God’s sake, she worked in a barn. In that flash of an instant, he glimpsed a shot of awareness that deepened her already dark eyes. In the next second, he saw the same surprise he’d felt.

Taking a breath, she stepped back and pulled her hand from his. “If you can let me know by 8:00 p.m. on the nights you’ll be riding him, that would help me,” she said.

“Waiting till that late will tie up most of your evenings,” he said.

“I don’t have anything else on my calendar. You see, I have to get ready for this parade my boss neglected to tell me about,” she said in a confiding tone.

“That’s why I required you to come to Chantaine within two weeks,” Stefan said, mildly amused.

“It would have been nice of you to let me know ahead of time,” she said.

“I’m not that nice,” he said. “Would it have made a difference?”

“I guess not,” she said. “I just wouldn’t have sat through any of those orientation sessions,” she said.

“I was told you skipped the afternoon session,” Stefan said.

“That’s true,” she said. “As soon as Princess Bridget told me there was going to be a parade with some kook waving a whip, I was outta there.”

“Count Christo is eccentric, but I wouldn’t call him a kook,” Stefan said.

“You don’t have to,” Eve said. “And I’ll tell you now, he won’t be carrying a whip when he’s riding one of your horses.”

“Eve,” Stefan said. “The count is an important and revered member of Chantaine society.”

“He won’t even miss that whip, I promise,” she said.

“Eve,” he said again.

She waved her hand in dismissal. “That’s a week and a half away. No worries Your Highlyness,” she said with a sparkle in her eye.

“Highlyness?” he echoed.

“That’s what my aunt Hildie calls Tina every now and then.”

The tidbit amused him. “I bet Tina loved that.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” she said and gave a pretty little salute with her right hand. “I should hit the sack, Your Highlyness. I rise early these days. Sweet dreams.”

The next day as Eve was grabbing a sandwich at her office in the stables, she mulled over the possibility of providing Black with a companion. The stallion led such a solitary life he might be more content with a gelding as a friend, or perhaps a goat.

“There you are,” Bridget, wearing a dress and heels, said from the doorway. She walked inside the small office without invitation, wagging her finger in disapproval. “You’ve been invisible during the last week. I was certain you’d flown back to Texas until I overheard one of the staff discussing how early you leave your quarters in the morning and how late you return at night. You’re going to exhaust yourself before you’ve even been here a month, and Tina will have all our heads. This must stop.”

Despite Bridget’s propensity for exaggeration, Eve felt a little less alone by her presence. She’d been so busy with the horses that she hadn’t had time to think about anything else except late at night before she fell asleep. She would die before she admitted it, but she was a little homesick.

“I’m fine,” Eve insisted and set down her sandwich. “I just needed to jump in with both feet with the parade coming around the corner.”

“Well, it’s simply not acceptable,” Bridget said. “I’m sure you haven’t even taken off one day since you arrived. Therefore, you shall go shopping with me this afternoon,” she said in full princess mode.

Eve shook her head. “It’s sweet of you to ask, and I’m honored, but I can’t. It would just put me behind. I have to start scheduling appointments with the riders so everything will go smoothly during the parade.”

Bridget wrinkled her brow in confusion. “We’ve never had appointments before. We just show up on parade day, mount the horse and ride.”

“How did that work out?” Eve asked, already knowing the answer.

“Fine with me. There have been a few little problems. One of the mares bucked her rider and took off through the crowd. One of the geldings stopped halfway through and refused to go any farther.”

“And what about that year when one of the horses reared up and a half dozen of them went to the beach? Not just to the beach,” Eve said. “But in the water.”

Bridget winced. “Oh, yes. I couldn’t really blame them. It was a very hot day and the master of ceremonies was long-winded, which meant we had to wait forever to get started. I guess you’re right. Good luck getting some of the old guys to agree to the appointments, though.”

“Thank you,” Eve said in a long-suffering voice.

Bridget sighed. “Well, if you won’t go shopping with me, then you must join us for dinner tonight. It’s family night. Stefan requires us to have dinner together every week since Jacques is on break from college. He’ll be there as well as Phillipa.”

Eve immediately began to shake her head. “I’m not family. I wouldn’t want to intrude,” she said, also confident that she would feel totally out of place at a table full of royals.

“No intrusion,” Bridget said. “Besides, you’re like family because of your association with Tina.”

“Oh, no, thank you, but—”

“I won’t take no for an answer. You must eat. You may as well eat with us. The food will be better than that sandwich,” she said, waving her hand in disgust at Eve’s lunch. “If you don’t come, then I’ll have to tell Tina, and she’ll fuss at Stefan and me. Trust me, it will get messy.”

Eve sighed, realizing it would be easier to give in to Bridget’s invitation and beg off early. She could pretend to be a fly on the wall and resolved to keep her mouth shut. “If you insist,” she said.

“I do,” Bridget said, smiling broadly. “We’ll dine at seven on the third floor. It’s a bit smaller and more intimate. I’m delighted you’ll join us. Ta-ta,” she said and turned to leave.

“Bridget,” Eve said before the woman vanished. Geez, that woman could move like the wind despite the fact that she was wearing high heels. “What should I wear?”

Bridget glanced over her shoulder. “Oh, it’s not formal. Just a dress will do.”

Eve had brought only a few dresses with her since she figured she would be spending most of her time with the horses. Her choices were black, brown and black. She decided on black and pulled her hair out of her braid. For her corporate job back in the States, she’d always dressed in a conservative, businesslike manner, with careful attention to grooming.

Looking in the mirror made her wince. She’d been so focused on getting the horses ready for the parade that she’d done the bare minimum in the grooming department. Her fingernails were all broken down to the quick, her hair was out of control, her lips were chapped and smudges of violet rimmed her brown eyes.

“Thank goodness for concealer,” she muttered under her breath, then got to work. Nerves danced in her belly and she chastised herself. She shouldn’t be nervous. Although she’d never shared a meal with a roomful of royals, she knew which fork to use and when. Her aunt Hildie had made sure she knew her manners. Eve felt a jab of homesickness take her by surprise, then pushed it down. It wasn’t as if she were being sent away from her parents when she’d become a teenager. She’d made this choice of her own volition. She was here for her dream job.

The prospect of interacting with Stefan on a semisocial level still made her uncomfortable. She was at ease dealing with him over matters concerning the horses, but beyond that, she found the man unsettling. After hearing his sister Tina talk about how overbearing he was, she’d been certain she’d find him a selfish chauvinist. But she was beginning to see that he was far more complex than she’d first thought. He had a lot on his shoulders and he didn’t shift one bit under his responsibilities. To her, it appeared that he was trying to bring the siblings together for the sake of Chantaine, and the independent-minded Devereaux weren’t making it easy.

Eve finished getting dressed and walked from the staff quarters to the palace. A guard allowed her entrance, and she climbed the marble steps to the third floor and wandered down the long hallway to an open doorway from where she heard voices—Bridget’s in particular.

Eve peeked around the corner and caught her first glimpse of the lavish dining room. With a different table, the room could have easily held twenty people. Instead, a round table dressed in a crisp white cloth and set with crystal glasses, sterling silver and bone china sat in the center of the room.

The elegance and luxury of the room reminded her of the differences between her background and that of the Devereaux family. Her parents had moved frequently to stay a step ahead of the debt collectors, which meant she’d never stayed in one school very long. A flood of memories washed over her of walking into school, wearing clothes with holes in them, suffering the stares of her classmates and feeling completely out of place.

Her stomach knotted. What was she doing here? She took a deep breath and told herself this was a different time, a different situation. The siblings distracted her from her panic.

Bridget, Phillipa and Jacques stood beside the table.

“The goal for this evening’s meal is to get Stefan to cut me some slack,” Bridget said. “I need a vacation in Italy. Phillipa, you can cover for me for just a couple weeks—”

Phillipa shook her head. “You know I’m in the middle of my dissertation. I can’t take off for two weeks.”

Bridget sighed. “Maybe we could cut down some of the appearances.” She glanced at Jacques, who bore a striking resemblance to Stefan. “And you could help.”

Jacques looked appalled. “Me? I’m playing in a soccer match in Spain this weekend.”

“Well, I can’t keep doing all this on my own. Lord knows how Tina managed it,” Bridget said.

Eve strongly considered turning around and leaving at that point, but Jacques glanced up and looked at her as if she were a lifeline. “Please do come in. Eve Jackson?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” she said. “I’m surprised you remember since we met so briefly last month.”

Jacques’s lips lifted in a flirtatious grin. “Please call me Jacques, and I make a habit of never forgetting the name of a beautiful woman.”

Eve couldn’t resist smiling in return. She could tell Jacques was on the road to be a class-one heartbreaker. “Thank you, Jacques. I appreciate the flattery, especially since I haven’t spent much time outside the barn since I arrived.”

“I’m determined to change that,” Bridget said. “Just because your position requires you to work with the horses doesn’t mean you’re married to them. Tomorrow you can join me for a day at the beach.”

Eve shook her head. “No beach for me until after the parade.”

Bridget scowled. “Tina is going to—” She broke off as Stefan walked into the room. “Welcome, Stefan. I persuaded Eve to join us tonight. She’s been cooped up in the barn far too long. I’m sure you don’t mind.”

Eve blinked at that last remark, feeling a stab of chagrin. She’d assumed Stefan had already been informed and approved of her presence at the meal.

Stefan looked at her, his gaze falling over her from head to toe and back up again. “Of course not. I’m glad you thought of it, Bridget,” he said, his gaze not straying from Eve’s. “Our pleasure, Eve.”

“Thank you, Your High—” she started, but stopped when he sliced his hand through the air.

“Stefan, please. Shall we sit?”

As if on cue, three staff members immediately entered the room.

“I chose Chateaubriand for the menu tonight,” Bridget said. “I asked the chef to choose everything else … well, aside from the chocolate mousse torte. Do you like chocolate, Eve?”

Still self-conscious, Eve fidgeted with her hands in her lap. “Like is an understatement. I’ve been known to make dessert the main course when it’s chocolate.”

Bridget laughed in approval. “Well, you won’t want to skip any of the courses tonight. Our newest chef is fabulous.”

“Here, here,” Jacques said. “Much improved over food at the university.”

Eve lifted her water glass and took a swallow. “Newest,” she echoed. “How new is he?”

Bridget glanced at Stefan. “Three months, would you say? The employment director had to replace the former chef.”

Hiding a grin of amusement behind her glass, Eve took another sip and met Stefan’s gaze. “Is that so?”

He raised a dark eyebrow as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. “The employment director made that decision. I had nothing to do with it.”

“Oh, I know why he was dismissed,” Phillipa said. “He was coming to work later and later due to a drinking problem. The employment director set him up with a special rehabilitation program.”

Stefan lifted his glass of wine, his lips twitching in amusement before he took a sip. “Eve seems to be under the misguided impression that I fire so many staff members we may as well have a revolving door for them.”

All four Devereaux stared at her with questions in their eyes. Eve coughed as her water went down the wrong way.

“What on earth made you think that?” Phillipa asked. “Stefan delegates almost all of the hiring to the employment director.”

“I never said that. I—” The gleam in his eyes told her he was enjoying her discomfort far too much. Eve frowned at Stefan, rising to the challenge. She was a Texan, for Pete’s sake, and she refused to be intimidated. “How many horse managers have you gone through? How long did my predecessor last before you bumped him off?”

Shocked silence followed, and Eve lifted her chin even as she felt herself being stared down by everyone in the room.

Stefan’s bark of laughter broke the silence and the tension. “To Americans,” he said and lifted his glass. “You don’t take crap from anyone.”

Stefan’s siblings gaped at her in surprise. Bridget recovered first, lifting her glass in salute. “We can learn by her example.”

Stefan lifted his hand in disagreement. “There’s a difference between defending oneself and constantly quarreling.”

“But, Stefan—”

“Enough, Bridget,” he said and turned to Phillipa. “How are your studies progressing?”

Stefan held her attention with how he conducted himself. He exhibited a magnetism that combined power, intelligence and complete masculinity. She’d never met a man who possessed such a combination. She was accustomed to sly cowboys and corporate managers with egos bigger than their paychecks.

She studied his hands as he cut his beef and lifted his glass of wine to his lips. His fingers were long, and she remembered feeling the faintest bit of a callous in his palms when he’d shaken her hand. She’d liked that about him.

Now, as she watched him talking to his siblings, she liked the way he focused on them instead of himself. She wondered if he kept his concerns and worries from his siblings. She wondered if he’d protected them a bit too much.

“If everything works out, I may do an exchange course in Italy this summer. Florence,” Jacques said with a half grin. “My advisers say I’m spending enough time on soccer and they want me to be well-rounded.”

“Florence,” Bridget muttered and gave a low, barely audible growl. She cleared her throat. “Speaking of art, Eve and I were talking just a couple of weeks ago about the idea of building a children’s art museum in Chantaine.”

Eve cringed at being dragged into Bridget’s power struggle with Stefan.

“Bridget, you know the agreement about our family dinners,” Stefan said with a sigh. “No discussion about financial proposals or arguments about politics. This is a time for us to be family.”

“Well, it’s hard for me to be family when all I do is work, work, work,” she said. “Have you noticed that you haven’t asked me anything about my personal life? Why?” she demanded. “Because I have no personal life. If I can’t have a personal life, then I’d like to have a sense of satisfaction. Even Eve said being happy in your job is making sure you have a passion for what you’re doing.”

Eve felt Stefan’s hard glare. She felt stuck in the middle of a place she absolutely didn’t want to be. Lifting her glass of wine, she took a sip and latched onto the first thing that came to her mind. “Anyone here know how to play the game Chicken Scratch?”