The Prince's Texas Bride / The Reluctant Princess: The Prince's Texas Bride / The Reluctant Princess. Raye Morgan

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СКАЧАТЬ 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.”

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