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The Prince's Texas Bride. Victoria ChancellorЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Prince's Texas Bride - Victoria Chancellor


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why he didn’t remind her more of Hank since they looked so much alike. Alexi’s striking profile was highlighted by morning sunlight streaming in through the windshield. His handsome features and confidence probably came from generations of blue blood. She imagined that he was used to getting whatever he wanted, even if his whim was a trip to Galveston in an un-air-conditioned car named Delores.

      Perhaps he was a little like her dad, she thought as she headed east on Interstate 10, but not much. Not too much, anyway…

      Chapter Two

      Alexi settled back against the fake leopard fur seat and let the warmth of the Texas day seep into his bones. He’d taken several short vacations in the past year or so, but they’d involved rushed trips to the Mediterranean or skiing in the Alps, hiding from the paparazzi, trying to have a personal life in impersonal fancy suites and ski lodges. Nothing at all like a long drive across the Texas prairie in an aging Toyota.

      Nothing at all like a trip with Kerry Lynn Jacks.

      “You have a real ‘cat ate the canary’ smile on your face,” she said, her voice drifting through the drowsy noontime like feathers through mist.

      “Hmm. Well, I do feel rather contented at the moment.”

      She chuckled. “You’re an easy man to please…Mack.”

      “I know a score of people who would disagree with you. Starting with my public-relations director, who is probably still fuming.”

      “That was kind of mean of you—leaving her standing there in the parking lot, stamping her foot.”

      Alexi smiled. “Yes, that was rather bad of me. I’ll make it up to her, though. Besides, I told her I didn’t want to make the appearances in San Antonio. She was filling in some time until we discovered if the president was going to come to his ranch for the weekend.”

      The car swerved as Kerry gasped. Alexi opened one eye and looked around.

      “The president! You mean you were supposed to meet with the president and you ran off to Galveston with me instead?”

      “The meeting wasn’t assured. We had no idea if he’d be traveling to Texas. You know how things come up.”

      “Oh, of course,” she said in a highly stressed voice. When he glanced at her, she made a sweeping gesture with her hands. “I know exactly how things can just come up with you heads of state.”

      “Really, Kerry, I doubt that the meeting would have occurred. Congress and world events can be very unpredictable. Besides, originally I had wanted to take a few days of holiday, but Lady Gwendolyn insisted we keep to a tight schedule.”

      She shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m in my car, having a conversation with a prince who was going to spend the weekend with the president.”

      “No, you’re driving to Galveston with your good friend Mack.”

      “Hey, I’m the one having the fantasy, okay?”

      “Are you so sure?” he asked. Kerry might not look like the models and aspiring actresses who attended the events he usually frequented. She was cute rather than beautiful, petite rather than statuesque and honest rather than calculating. He found her honesty and natural charm extremely desirable. “I can’t imagine anyone I’d rather spend time with, and that includes your current leader.”

      She opened her mouth, but no words came forth. For once, he’d managed to silence her somewhat saucy remarks.

      Closing his eyes, he settled back against the seat once more. The sound of the tires rolling down the highway lulled him into sleep, and he dozed, a vision of Kerry’s amazed expression bringing a smile to his lips.

      “WHERE ARE WE?” Alexi—or Mack—slowly opened his eyes. Lord, he looked good when he woke up. Really, really sexy. How was she going to keep her hands off him for three days?

      “We’re in Sealy, about an hour outside of Houston.” She drove past the Wal-Mart and several fast-food places until she spotted a service station with a food mart. “Are you hungry? We can get a snack, although I’d like to wait to eat supper with my aunt and uncle tonight, if possible.”

      She pulled off the interstate onto the service road.

      “Very good. I could use a cold drink.” He raised his lean, muscular torso off Delores’s seat and stretched, as much as possible, inside the tight confines of the car. “I hadn’t realized I was so sleepy,” he said as she pulled to a stop at the gas pumps.

      Kerry tore her eyes away from his tempting body and reached for the door handle. “You can get a soft drink or some water if you’d like. I won’t be long.”

      “I’ll help you,” he said, opening his own door.

      “No, that’s okay.” She needed a few minutes apart from him. For the past several hours, she’d had time to think about this trip. About him. About what she was doing driving a real, live prince around Texas.

      Maybe this adventure was a big mistake.

      “It’s been several years, but I think I can remember how to fuel up your vehicle.”

      “You don’t have to—”

      “Kerry, if I truly were Hank, wouldn’t you let me help?”

      “Well…”

      Right there beside the gas pumps, Delores’s poor old engine popping and wheezing beside them, he used one finger to tip up her chin. “I’m Mack, your friend, remember? Treat me just like you would Hank.”

      “I’m having a hard time with that,” she whispered.

      “Kerry Lynn Jacks, you are thinking too much,” he answered with a smile.

      His smile slowly faded. Her lips slowly parted. He leaned closer, closer…Just when she thought he might kiss her, her car let out a particularly loud ping. Blinking, Kerry stepped back.

      “Seriously,” she said. “I’ll pump the gas. If you’d like to do something nice, you can buy me a soft drink. Anything cold with caffeine.”

      “Very well,” he said with a sigh.

      “Oh, and Mack,” she said, emphasizing the nickname, “whatever you do, don’t use the word schedule.” His pronunciation of “shed-yule” would give him away immediately.

      He chuckled, waving off her concern, and she went back to filling up Delores’s tank, probably for the last time.

      After they’d both used the facilities, they piled back into the car. In the few minutes they’d been apart, Kerry had gotten herself under control again. Okay, so she was chauffeuring a prince around Texas. And pretending he was someone else. She could do this.

      But he had to help.

      “Look, if you’re going to be ‘Mack’ instead of Prince Alexi,” she said as she started Delores’s reluctant engine, “you need to talk like you’re from Texas instead of London.”

      “We can work on that on the way to Galveston.”

      “Okay. So tell me about your family—your real one, that is, not something you’d make up to fit your Texas persona—but use your best Texas accent.”

      “Hmm, very well,” he began.

      “Wait just a minute. Don’t say ‘very well.’ Texans just don’t talk that way. You can say ‘okay’ instead.”

      “Okay,” he responded with a tight smile. “I’m the oldest son of King Wilheim of Belegovia. I have a brother who lives in our country and a sister who is attending university—”

      “Nope, she’s ‘goin’ to college,”’ Kerry interrupted.

      “Okay, she’s goin’ to college at my alma


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