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The Rancher's Christmas Princess. Christine RimmerЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Rancher's Christmas Princess - Christine  Rimmer


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Like something was weighing on her mind.

      Then again, he was pretty damn serious himself as a rule. After all, life was tough. Then you died.

      “Have you lived here in Montana all your life, Preston?”

      “Except for four years of college in Utah. I live at the family ranch. The McCade Ranch. It’s a ways out of town. We breed and train horses. Quarter horses, mostly, for ranch work.”

      “The quarter horse. That most American of breeds. Great sprinters. So agile. Perfectly suited to work on a ranch.”

      His opinion of her went up another notch. “You know horses.”

      “My father was raised on a ranch,” she said. “In Texas. Near San Antonio. I have a cousin, Luke, who lives on that ranch now. Luke raises quarter horses, too, as a matter of fact.”

      “Your father’s American, then?”

      “He took Montedoran citizenship when he married my mother. But yes, he was born here in America. I’ve ridden since I was small. We all have, my brothers and sisters and me. My sister Alice is the true horsewoman of the family, though. Do you raise cattle also?”

      “We do run cattle, yes. A small herd. But we’re mostly a horse operation. I’m in partnership with my dad and the ranch has been in the family for four generations. I’m pretty proud of our breeding program. Our horses are steady-natured, good for ranch work. They also perform well in rodeos across a range of events. We have two fine thoroughbreds standing at stud.” Whoa. He’d said a mouthful. As a rule, he wasn’t a man to fall all over himself bragging about his operation. He concentrated on his food again.

      She asked, “Any brothers or sisters?”

      “Just me and the old man.”

      She leaned in a little. “You smiled. Because of your father?”

      He shrugged. “You’d have to meet him. My father considers himself a charmer.”

      “But he’s not?”

      “I generally let people make up their own minds about that. But be warned. He’ll talk your ear off if you give him half a chance.”

      “And your mother?”

      “She passed on.”

      “I’m sorry.”

      He shrugged. “It was a long time ago. I was only a kid.”

      “That must have been hard. For you. And your father.”

      “Like I said, a long time ago.” He had a few questions of his own. One in particular: What was it she needed to see him about? But she seemed to want to...get to know him a little, for some reason. And he realized that was just fine with him. He was curious about her, too. “How about your family?”

      She sipped her coffee. “Both of my parents are still living and in good health.”

      “You said you had sisters and you mentioned brothers, too?”

      “I have four sisters and four brothers.”

      “That’s quite a royal family.”

      “Montedoro is a principality,” she explained. “That means we, the ruling family, are not, strictly speaking, considered royal.”

      “So your father’s not a king?”

      “Actually, it’s my mother who rules Montedoro.”

      Right. RaeNell had told him that, now that he thought about it. “You said your dad was born an American...”

      She nodded. “They met in Los Angeles. My father used to be an actor. He did well for himself, even won an Oscar for best actor in a supporting role.”

      “But he gave all that up when he met your mother?”

      “Yes, he did. When my mother took the throne he became His Serene Highness Evan, Prince Consort of Montedoro—and no, my mother is not a queen. She’s the sovereign princess.”

      “I see,” he said. Though he didn’t, not really. He only thought that her world and his were galaxies apart.

      Which had him feeling suddenly awkward and foolish. He’d been talking way too much, acting like a rube, a hayseed way too full of himself, all puffed up to be having breakfast with this amber-eyed beauty from a long, long ways out of town.

      Come on now. Exactly what business did she have with him? Whatever it was, she sure wasn’t in any rush to get down to it. He pushed his plate away, wiped his mouth and set his napkin on the table.

      The princess could take a hint. “I wonder if we might speak in private...” she cautiously suggested. He couldn’t say he blamed her for wanting to take the conversation elsewhere. The low murmur of other voices filled the diner now. But he had no doubt that every ear in the place remained cocked toward their booth.

      He thought again about how he had nothing in common with her, how she was out of his league and way out of his reach. How he was only here to find out why she was asking around about him. He reminded himself how he had no interest in women anyway, not since his fiancée dumped him for that jackass Monty Polk over two years ago now.

      Plus, RaeNell had mentioned a baby, hadn’t she? That the princess had a baby with her. She wore no wedding ring. But why would she bring a baby to Elk Creek unless it belonged to her?

      He went ahead and asked her. “Belle, are you married?”

      She answered without hesitation. “No, Preston, I’m not.”

      Then what about the baby?

      But he couldn’t quite get those words out. He’d been raised to mind his manners around a lady. And he didn’t know her well enough to ask her something as personal as that.

      Instead, he shocked the hell out of himself by asking, “Would you have dinner with me?”

      Chapter Two

      The princess had agreed that he would pick her up at the Drop On Inn at seven. Pres was there right on time, freshly showered and shaved, wearing tan slacks and a sport jacket under his winter coat—and feeling like something way too close to a damn fool.

      RaeNell was behind the desk, hanging miniature red balls on the little Christmas tree. “Lookin’ pretty spiffy there, Pres. I’ll tell her you’re here.”

      He gave her a nod of acknowledgment and wondered how RaeNell knew that he was there to pick up Belle. Then he decided not to stew over it. RaeNell always knew way more than she had any business knowing.

      She picked up the phone and pushed a button. “Hello, Lady Charlotte. Please tell Her Highness that Preston McCade is waiting in the lobby....Yes. Thank you.” RaeNell put the phone down. “She’ll be right down.”

      “Great.”

      RaeNell stood back to admire the little tree, then stepped close again to move an ornament to a spot nearer the top. “Where are you taking her? The Bull’s Eye? Of course you are. Where else you gonna get a decent steak in this town?”

      Pres said nothing. He didn’t need to. RaeNell had always been perfectly capable of carrying on a conversation all by herself.

      RaeNell folded her arms and braced them on the counter and pitched her voice to a whisper that somehow managed to ring out clear as a shout. “So what did she want from you? What’s it all about? Come on, you can tell me. You know I will never tell a living soul.”

      “I don’t know what she wants from me, RaeNell. She hasn’t said yet.”

      “But everyone saw you having breakfast with her, the two of you yakking away like you’re the best of friends.”

      He only looked at her. He kept his expression untroubled, although he was at least as curious as RaeNell as to what it might be that Belle wanted from


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