A Royal Baby on the Way Page 6

  ‘‘I…’’ She pressed her lips together and tried to figure out what she was supposed to say. She opened her mouth again, but this time the words that tumbled out were not what she expected. ‘‘Everyone thinks I’m bossy and imperious and I’m afraid they might be right.’’

  ‘‘This is news to you?’’

  ‘‘Well, yes.’’ To her horror, she felt her eyes begin to burn. She blinked to hold back the tears. She never cried. ‘‘I’m a good person. I work hard. I take my responsibilities seriously. I have a sense of humor. People like me.’’

  ‘‘So it’s a trade-off.’’

  She glared at him. ‘‘I see you’re very happy to discuss my problems, but what about the fact that you’re exactly the same? Except, possibly, for having a sense of humor. I haven’t seen any evidence of that.’’

  ‘‘Hey, wait a minute.’’ Mitch took another step closer and glared down at her. ‘‘I’m not bossy, I’m the world’s nicest guy. Just ask anyone. Just because you don’t like what you see in the mirror is no reason to blame me.’’

  ‘‘I like what I see in the mirror just fine.’’

  ‘‘Then why are you upset?’’

  ‘‘I’m not upset.’’ She planted her hands on her hips. ‘‘You’re the one who won’t even consider the truth about himself. Is self-inspection so frightening? Is the macho facade all you have going for you?’’

  ‘‘Macho facade?’’ Mitch repeated. ‘‘Listen, princess, it’s not a facade. As for my sense of humor, it’s a hell of a lot more developed than yours.’’

  ‘‘How would you know?’’

  ‘‘Because you’re just some—’’ He broke off and stared at her.

  ‘‘Some what?’’

  His stiff body posture relaxed a little. ‘‘I don’t know. I want to compare you to something, but I don’t know you well enough to do that. Maybe you could give me a hint so I could come up with an insult and we could continue arguing.’’

  His outrageous request made her smile. Then he grinned and before she could figure out how it had happened, all her tension eased. Her arms relaxed and she found herself breathing easily for the first time in hours.

  Mitch joined her at the mare’s stall. ‘‘You’ve got some backbone…for a princess,’’ he said condescendingly.

  ‘‘Thank you. You’re not so very annoying…for a man.’’

  He growled low in his throat. ‘‘I’m going to ignore that.’’

  ‘‘It’s probably for the best. Otherwise you’d be forced to think about it and that might tax your brain.’’

  ‘‘You’re on a tear this morning, aren’t you?’’

  ‘‘I suppose I am.’’ She shoved her hands back into her jacket pocket. ‘‘I’m moving to a hotel.’’

  He stared at her. ‘‘Why?’’

  ‘‘It’s for the best. I didn’t realize what an intrusion I would be. It was the tiniest bit imperious of me to insist on staying here. You don’t know me, we aren’t related. You didn’t ask for any of this.’’ She thought about all the arrangements that had to be made. ‘‘It will probably take a couple of days to get everything put together, but I’ll be gone as quickly as I can.’’

  ‘‘What about your parents? I thought you didn’t want to have to explain extra security.’’

  ‘‘I’ll think of something. I always do.’’ She glanced around at the clean, well-lit barn and wished she’d taken the time to explore the area. ‘‘I appreciate your hospitality. You’ve been very kind.’’

  Mitch mumbled something she didn’t quite catch. He turned his attention back to the mare. ‘‘You’ve got everything in place, the phone lines, the messengers. If it’s not going to get any worse, you might as well stay.’’

  As gracious invitations went, she’d had much better. Even so, his words lightened her spirits and made her insides tingle in the most unusual way. ‘‘But—’’

  He glared at her. ‘‘Don’t make me beg, okay? Because I won’t do it. You can stay here.’’

  He was a grumpy old bear, she thought. But handsome. His mouth still intrigued her, as did his strength. ‘‘Thank you,’’ she murmured.

  ‘‘You’re welcome.’’

  His gaze lingered on her face. It warmed her like a touch…or a caress. The tingling inside of her spread to her arms and legs. She told herself to stop staring, but she couldn’t seem to look away from him. The rest of the world faded into a blurry background. How odd.

  ‘‘Mitch?’’

  He took a step toward her. She had to look up to still meet his gaze, but instead of intimidating her, his size made her feel safe. She noticed her breathing had quickened, as had his. What was wrong with them?

  Mitch swore under his breath. ‘‘I’ve got to get back to work,’’ he growled.

  ‘‘Can I help?’’ Alex asked, surprising both him and herself. She glanced around the barn. ‘‘As I said, I’m good with horses. Maybe I could exercise them for you.’’ She bit her lower lip. ‘‘I can’t seem to fill my days enough with the work I have,’’ she admitted. That was as much as she could say. She refused to tell him that she was lonely.

  He pointed to her tailored wool skirt. ‘‘Are all your clothes that impractical?’’

  ‘‘No. I have a brand-new pair of jeans with me.’’

  ‘‘Figures. All right, you can exercise a couple of the mares, but only on a lead. No fancy riding until I see what you can do.’’

  She smiled at him. ‘‘Thank you, Mitch. You won’t regret it.’’

  She turned and headed for the house, ignoring his grumbled complaint that he already did.

  *

  Five hours later Mitch knew he’d been stupid in allowing Alex to exercise the horses. Not that she didn’t know what she was doing, he thought as he stared out his office window and looked at the west paddock. She stood in the center of the ring and exercised a brood mare. Despite their difference in size, there was no doubt who was in charge of the session. Alex held the lead with a skill that only came from hours of practice. She hadn’t lied about knowing her way around horses.

  She also hadn’t lied about the jeans, although they were painfully new. He found himself catching his breath as she turned in the ring, exposing her back to him. The stiff denim outlined rounded hips and thighs that just about sent him to his knees. He had a difficult enough time dealing with his wayward desire when he couldn’t see her, but now that she was in plain sight he thought he would go mad.

  To make matters worse, he was starting to like her. Lust was safe, but liking—well, that was a different story. Liking led to caring which was a slick downhill road to heartache and trouble. Her earlier confession about being bossy had touched him, although he couldn’t quite figure out why. Maybe it was her vulnerability, or the strength it took to see a bad truth about one’s self.

  He should have let her go. She’d offered to leave, but he’d had to tell her to stay because—he didn’t even know why he’d done it. So now he was stuck with her and her perfect little fanny. The worst part was, there wasn’t one thing he could do about her, except continue to stay out of her way. Anything else was impossible. So that was what he was going to do. Ignore her.

  Chapter Five

  It was a little after six when Mitch heard Alex walk by his office door. He glanced down at the report he’d been compiling, then at the clock above the fireplace in the far corner. Since Alex had arrived, he’d taken his meals later than usual so that he could avoid seeing her. He told himself it was because he preferred to eat alone rather than make idle small talk with someone he didn’t know. The real reason had been because he didn’t want to spend any more time than necessary in her presence. The attraction was difficult enough to control without fueling it with actual contact.

  But something had changed, he thought as he tossed down his pencil and rose to his feet. That morning when they spoke, he’d seen her more as a person than as a woman he wanted. Dangerous territory, but one he apparently couldn’t avoid. Besides,
if he was completely honest with himself, he would be willing to admit that he was lonely. John was never around much in the evenings, even when he was home, and Betty left at six. Since his folks had moved up to Washington, there wasn’t anyone to talk with once his workday ended. Betty kept ragging on him to get married, but he didn’t think he wanted to. Besides, how many woman actually got excited at the thought of living on a relatively isolated ranch?

  He crossed the room and headed down the hall. Dating, he thought. He could start dating again. But the idea didn’t thrill him. The ranch demanded long hours, which made it difficult for him to meet anyone. He would want to get involved with an intelligent woman, someone challenging, but feminine. It wasn’t as if that sort of female simply showed up in a man’s life.

  He stepped into the dining room. Alex glanced up at him, surprise clear on her face. She’d changed out of her jeans and workshirt. Instead she wore a dark purple dress with long sleeves and a high neck. Glittery combs held her hair back from her face. Dark amethysts glinted from her earlobes. He found he had to clear his throat before he could speak.

  ‘‘I thought you might like some company for dinner.’’

  She smiled that same damn smile that about drove him to his knees. ‘‘That would be delightful,’’ she said.

  Delightful, he repeated silently an hour later as they lingered over coffee. Alex was everything he’d feared—charming, witty and easy to talk to. He did not need this kind of trouble in his life.

  ‘‘What did you think?’’ she asked, motioning to the empty bottle of wine sitting on the table.

  ‘‘Very nice.’’ He glanced at the label, then at her. ‘‘It’s from California. I thought royalty had to drink French wine,’’ he teased.

  She leaned toward him and lowered her voice. ‘‘We do. I’m actually breaking the law every time I take a sip. It’s my lone rebellion.’’

  ‘‘Do your parents know?’’

  ‘‘I think they suspect, but they don’t want to confront me about it and learn the truth. All those years of governesses and finishing schools and I still prefer a good California wine to one produced in France.’’

  ‘‘I’m sure they’re shocked.’’ He leaned back in his chair. ‘‘Did you really go to finishing school?’’

  ‘‘No, I went to a university in England. But we had plenty of instruction on the proper way to behave in all situations. I know the correct placement of glasses and flatware for official functions, the proper gift to send for an assortment of occasions, how to handle potentially damaging social blunders. I can even bake bread.’’

  ‘‘I’m impressed.’’

  She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her right ear. ‘‘I don’t think so, but I do believe you think it’s mildly interesting. Our lives are different.’’

  They sat at one end of the long dining room table, Mitch at the head and Alex to his right. When they’d finished eating, Mitch pushed his plate toward the center of the table and Alexandra followed his lead. Then they leaned forward, facing each other. Now, he watched the play of the overhead light on Alex’s face, which made her green eyes appear dark, but added shades of gold to her auburn hair.

  ‘‘I love this room,’’ she confessed. ‘‘When it’s quiet, I imagine I can hear conversations from a long time ago. There’s been a lot of happiness around this table.’’

  ‘‘That’s true. My family always ate here for special occasions.’’

  She straightened, and her mouth twisted with dismay. ‘‘Oh, no. Please don’t tell me that you usually take all your meals in the kitchen.’’

  He nodded.

  ‘‘I had no idea. Betty brought me out here that first night and I thought…’’ Her voice trailed off. ‘‘Sorry. All that etiquette training doesn’t seem to be helping me much out here, does it?’’

  ‘‘I don’t mind eating here, Alex. You’re right, there are a lot of happy memories. I’m sure the room misses being used. When my folks still lived here, they would have lots of dinner parties. Nothing formal, but plenty of friends and good conversation. I remember Christmas and Thanksgiving dinners here with too much food and extra places for unexpected guests.’’

  She leaned toward him again, resting her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand. ‘‘That sounds nice. You’re still close with your parents, aren’t you?’’

  ‘‘Yes. We speak every week. They call at seven on Sunday evenings. They both get on the phone and tell me about their week. We talk about their guests at their bed-and-breakfast, then we talk about the cattle. It’s not very exciting, but it’s familiar and I like it.’’

  ‘‘How lovely that sounds,’’ she said wistfully. ‘‘When I was a little girl, I used to dream about being in a normal family.’’

  ‘‘Most little girls dream about being a princess.’’

  ‘‘I know. I used to tell myself that whenever I started complaining about something in my life. I was, and am, very fortunate. But sometimes I think how nice it would be to just fit in like everyone else.’’ She straightened. ‘‘I’m not saying my parents aren’t wonderful people. They are. They’re caring and loving and extremely supportive. But it’s different.’’

  ‘‘I can’t even imagine,’’ he said, and meant it. Her world was an alien place, and not one he wanted to visit.

  ‘‘Mitch, do you have pictures of your family?’’

  He grinned. ‘‘We have enough photo albums to fill the Library of Congress.’’

  She frowned. ‘‘The what?’’

  ‘‘Never mind. Yes, there are tons of pictures. Tell you what. You go get dessert and bring it into the living room and I’ll grab the photo albums. That is, if I’m allowed to give royalty instructions.’’

  ‘‘Please,’’ she said as she rose to her feet. ‘‘Although, if you insist on being impertinent, you run the risk of being beheaded.’’

  ‘‘You still do that sort of thing?’’

  She gave him a quick grin. ‘‘Daily.’’

  ‘‘Wow. And here I was planning a visit to Wynborough. Guess I’ll have to pass.’’

  ‘‘Don’t worry. If you do something wrong and are in danger of being beheaded, just mention my name. I have a little pull with the royal family.’’

  ‘‘Really?’’

  She made an X over her heart. ‘‘I swear.’’

  *

  Mitch turned a page in album and pointed to a five-by-seven picture. ‘‘That’s my brother, John.’’

  Alex stared down at the photograph of the young boy standing next to a horse. She studied the face, the eyes, the shape of the mouth, searching for some similarity. ‘‘How old was he here?’’

  ‘‘Probably around ten. What do you think?’’

  She pressed her lips together. ‘‘I’m not sure. I want to say there’s something familiar about his expression, but I can’t tell if I’m seeing what’s there or if it’s wishful thinking on my part.’’

  Mitch patted the album. ‘‘There are a dozen more pictures of him. Maybe the ones when he’s older will help more.’’

  ‘‘Maybe,’’ she agreed, then leaned forward and picked up her mug of coffee.

  They’d moved to the living room and were sitting next to each other on the sofa in front of the fireplace. Mitch had started a fire, which now crackled cheerfully. The scent of wood smoke, the lingering taste of chocolate from Betty’s decadent mousse, the warmth of the man sitting so close to her all gave Alex an odd feeling of belonging. Which didn’t make any sense. After all, she hadn’t even been at the ranch for a week. Yet she felt at home here, especially now that she and Mitch were getting along better.

  Mitch flipped to the next page. He and John stood next to each other. Mitch held a first-place ribbon in his hand. ‘‘What’s that for?’’ she asked.

  ‘‘Junior rodeo. Bronc riding and calf roping.’’

  She glanced at him and smiled. ‘‘Very impressive.’’

  He shrugged off the compliment. ‘‘I grew up on a ranc
h. It came with the territory.’’

  She turned her attention to the second boy in the picture. Again she couldn’t tell if John had any of the family features. ‘‘The problem is my sisters and I don’t all look alike,’’ she said. ‘‘So there’s no reason to think our brother would be instantly recognizable. It’s a thirty-year-old mystery. Maybe we’re fooling ourselves into thinking that we can find out what happened.’’

  ‘‘Don’t give up,’’ Mitch said. ‘‘You’ve got some new information and you still have The Sunshine Home to investigate. You’ll find out what happened.’’

  ‘‘I hope so. The owner said the boxes of records would be available next week. They’re being delivered from a storage facility. I’m looking forward to going through them.’’

  He continued to turn pages. She watched as Mitch and his brother grew up from gangly boys into handsome young men. There were family Christmases and different birthdays. One picture showed a very serious Mitch in a black tuxedo standing next to a pretty blonde.

  ‘‘School dance,’’ he said by way of explanation. ‘‘I was sixteen.’’

  ‘‘Your school put on dances? For the students?’’

  ‘‘Sure. A couple every year. It was a big deal. Did the royal set do that sort of thing?’’

  He was close enough that his broad shoulder occasionally brushed against hers. She liked the contact and had to consciously keep herself from leaning into him each time. ‘‘No. There were formal occasions such as fund-raisers and balls, but nothing just for the teenagers. That would have been a lot of fun.’’

  ‘‘You sure were raised different.’’

  That made her laugh. ‘‘It comes with the territory.’’

  She turned the next page and froze when she saw a wedding photo. Mitch stood next to a pretty young woman in a white bridal gown. There were a half dozen bridesmaids and groomsmen, along with both sets of parents.

  ‘‘You were married?’’ she asked, not sure why she found the information shocking, but she did.