not usually confused with someone else.”
Alexi smiled. “I can honestly say that has never happened before.” And he couldn’t have imagined a more pleasurable case of mistaken identity, either.
“Nice to meet you, Lady Gwendolyn,” Kerry replied with a smile. “I hope y’all have a nice time in Texas.”
She turned away with one more friendly smile over her shoulder. Alexi stood rooted to the spot, still tasting her lips and feeling her petite, curvy body pressed to his.
“We really should be going,” Gwendolyn reminded him. “Between the incident in the Land Rover and this distraction, we’re nearly an hour behind schedule.”
The “incident” involved a soft drink Alexi had purchased on their last stop. He loved American soft drinks. They tasted different in the States than in Europe. This particular bottle, however, had either been shaken on purpose or dropped by clumsy hands, because the minute he’d twisted open the lid, cold, sticky liquid had spewed from the bottle, soaking his shirt and the seat of the Land Rover, and saturated his hair and face.
He’d needed a change of clothing and the truck stop seemed a perfect place to wash his face, neck and hands. To his surprise, the large facility contained showers for both men and women, clothing, a variety of recordings and books, and every type of food imaginable. The combination showers and rest rooms separated the retail part of the truck stop from the restaurant, which occupied about one third of the building.
He’d chosen jeans, a Western-cut shirt in bright stripes and a tooled leather belt that he knew would remind him of Texas long after he returned to Belegovia. With his new wardrobe and impatient looks from Gwendolyn, he’d slipped into the men’s showers.
When he’d emerged clean and in his new clothes, Kerry Lynn Jacks had launched herself into his arms.
Alexi narrowed his eyes and watched her hug two waitresses and wipe a tear from her eye. “She’s certainly an interesting young woman.”
“One we don’t have time to linger over.”
“You are no fun,” he told Gwendolyn, who was single-minded in her duties. Mainly she scheduled, then escorted him from event to event, competently and without any surprises. And she never scheduled any temptations.
With one last look at Kerry, who had picked up a canvas tote bag and was waving goodbye to her friends, he turned away also. “Okay. Let’s get on the road.”
“You don’t need to sound so disappointed,” Gwendolyn chided. “This trip was your idea.”
“The meetings in Dallas were my idea. The photo ops were for you and my father.”
“Whatever.”
They emerged into the bright morning sunlight. The newly cleaned Land Rover with their Texas driver, Pete Boedecker, and Alexi’s man, Milos Anatole, stood ready at the door.
“We’re off to San Antonio, Mr. Boedecker,” Gwendolyn announced. She stood beside the vehicle door, waiting for Alexi to enter first, as was his right. He still had a hard time remembering to observe the formality when he was in the States. He’d lived in Boston for five years, never once failing to act courteously to women—most of whom knew him only as Alex.
Just when he was getting ready to enter the vehicle, a loud compact car, partly blue and partly rusted, pulled up beside them. Milos immediately stepped in front of him, but as soon as Alexi saw who was driving the disreputable automobile, he smiled.
“It’s okay, Milos. I don’t think the young woman is going to abduct me.”
“Prince Alexi,” Kerry called out breathlessly, “I almost forgot to ask you for a big favor.”
“What is that, Miss Jacks?”
“My mother is a huge fan of all the European royalty,” she explained as she stepped out and walked around her sorry excuse for a car. “If she found out I’d met you and didn’t get her an autograph, she’d tan my bottom.”
The image of Kerry Lynn Jacks’s firm, round bottom popped into his mind and wouldn’t leave. Not that he wanted to “tan” her, but he would like a peek at what was hidden by her jeans.
“What would you like me to autograph?” he asked, straight-faced.
She handed him an envelope from the truck stop and a pen that had been chewed on the plastic end. “Would you make it out to Charlene Jacks, please?” Kerry asked, peering at the paper he held as though she didn’t trust him to give a proper autograph.
He smiled. “Of course. Are you going home now?” he asked, to make conversation while he worded an appropriate message.
“No, I’m on my way to Galveston.”
“Galveston!” He looked up, remembering the island from his check of the map before his trip to Texas. “Surely not in—”
“Now, don’t say anything rude about Delores,” Kerry admonished with a grin. “She may be old, but she’s been real good to me for the past eight years. We’ve been through a lot together.”
“Really?” Alexi wondered if any of those memories involved the back seat of the aging vehicle, but a quick glance inside confirmed his suspicions. The back seat was too small for any decent-size man.
“I don’t want to demean Delores, but perhaps you should reconsider driving all that way. Surely you’re not going alone?”
“I am. My mother is working and my sisters are busy. I have to be back on Saturday for my college graduation ceremony, but I’m going to see my aunt and uncle. I’m getting my aunt’s mother’s car. It’s in real good shape—only twenty-one thousand miles and not a dent or a scratch.”
“I see.” College graduation? How old was Kerry? She’d appeared several years older than an undergraduate. “What type of degree?”
“My bachelor’s in business. It’s taken me ten years, but I’m finally finished.”
Alexi breathed a sigh of relief. At least he hadn’t been lusting after a twenty-one-year-old. Kerry was at least twenty-seven or twenty-eight—just a few years younger than his age of thirty.
“Your Highness,” Gwendolyn said, warning him she was serious by the use of his title, “we really must be going.”
“Lady Gwendolyn, I’ve just learned this young lady is driving all the way to Galveston by herself in this rather questionable automobile. Surely I can’t let that pass.”
“Surely you must, Your Highness,” she insisted.
Alexi laughed. “How far is this trip of yours?”
“In hours, I’d say around six or so.”
“Six hours in Delores,” he said, turning to Gwendolyn. “That seems rather unfortunate, don’t you think?”
Gwendolyn tugged on his sleeve. When he leaned down, she whispered fiercely in his ear. “So buy her a bloody ticket on an airplane and let’s be on our way!”
Alexi
