The Prince's Cowgirl Bride

Crystal tallied up a bill. “Ted’s in Europe with his girlfriend for the next couple of months.”

“Oh.” Jewel pushed her now empty cup aside. “Know anyone else who might be interested?”

“Most of the local college kids already have their summer jobs lined up.”

She sighed. “I guess I’ll have to put an ad in the paper then.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t be more help,” Crystal said. “I know how much you hate interviewing people.”

“Actually the interviews don’t concern me as much as the possibility that it might be too late to find qualified help for the summer.”

“What kind of qualifications do you need to muck out stinky stalls?”

“Some experience working around animals would be helpful,” she said dryly.

“What kind of animals?” a masculine voice asked from behind her.

She whirled around and found herself face-to-chest with the hunky stranger and couldn’t help but notice how the polo shirt he wore stretched across impressive pectoral muscles. Cheeks hot, mouth dry, she lifted her gaze and found his eyes on her again.

Crystal offered profuse apologies as she refilled the cup in his hand.

“Not a problem,” he assured her, then shifted his attention back to Jewel and asked again, “What kind of animals?”

She drew in a breath and, along with it, his scent. Clean and sharp and as tempting as the rest of him.

“Horses,” she finally managed to respond to his question.

“Thoroughbred racehorses,” Crystal elaborated. “My sister runs one of the top training facilities in the state.”

Jewel’s quelling glance was met with a sweet smile.

“I’m Mac Delgado,” the man introduced himself. “I happen to know my way around horses and I’m looking for some short-term employment.”

Jewel only said, “And I don’t hire anyone without a recommendation,” and stepped away from the counter.

“I’ll let you know if I find any suitable candidates,” her sister called after her.

“Thanks, Crystal.” She didn’t turn back, but she knew he was watching her. She could feel the heat of his gaze on her as she made her way to the door.

He’d been dismissed—blatantly and unapologetically. It was a new experience for Mac Delgado—aka His Royal Highness Marcus Santiago, Prince of Tesoro del Mar—and not one he’d particularly enjoyed. She hadn’t even given him her name, and he was frowning over that fact as he watched her walk out, enjoying the quick strides of long, lean legs and the subtle sway of slim hips until the door of the café swung shut behind her.

A soft sigh drew his attention back to the young waitress with the friendly smile. Crystal, the other woman had called her.

“She really doesn’t mean to be rude,” Crystal said now.

“And yet, she has such an obvious talent for it.”

She smiled again, a little ruefully this time. “She’s got a lot on her mind right now.”

He shrugged, as if it didn’t matter, as if he didn’t have a hundred questions about the woman who’d walked out the door without so much as a backward glance in his direction. But he sat down on the stool she’d recently vacated as Crystal waved goodbye to an elderly couple as they headed out the door.

“So what brings you to Alliston?” she asked, turning her attention back to him.

“Road construction on the highway,” he admitted.

She smiled at that. “Where are you headed?”

“California eventually.”

“Driving?”

He nodded.

“You’ve got a long way to go.”

“I’m not in a hurry,” he told her.

“What’s in California?” she asked. “Friends? A job? A wife?”

He fought the smile that tugged at his lips in response to her not-so-subtle probing. “None of the above.”

“You have to give me more than that if you expect me to answer any questions about my sister.”

“What makes you think I have any questions about your sister?”

She lifted a brow. “Then you aren’t interested in seeing Jewel again?”

“Jewel?” he echoed, then realized it was her sister’s name, and an apt description for the woman with wildly sexy hair and eyes the color of a summer sky before a storm.

And then there were her lips, glossy and full and as perfectly shaped as a cupid’s bow. And her hair, miles of honeygold corkscrew curls tumbled over her shoulders and down her back. And—

He caught a glimpse of Crystal’s satisfied smile out of the corner of his eye and forced himself to sever the thought.

Her smile widened. “I believe you were telling me how much you weren’t interested in my sister.”

“Actually,” he said, “you were going to tell me where I could find her.”

Jewel was faxing her Help Wanted ad to the classifieds department at the local newspaper when the knock sounded at the door.

“Come in,” she said, her eyes never lifting from the machine where she was manually inserting pages because it had a tendency to chew the paper if she used the automatic feeder. She’d been meaning to take the machine in for service, but kept forgetting. With so many other tasks to deal with on a daily basis, those that didn’t directly impact the horses tended to get shifted to the bottom of the list and frequently forgotten.

The door creaked as it was pushed open, reminding her that oiling the hinges was another one of those tasks that she never seemed to get around to doing. On the other hand, she didn’t have to worry about anyone sneaking up on her.

She fed the last page into the machine before turning around, and found herself looking at a pair of very broad shoulders—not covered in flannel or denim, as was usual around the stables, but a royal-blue polo shirt, complete with the embroidered logo of pony and rider on the left side. The shirt stretched over those shoulders, across a broad chest and tucked into a pair of belted jeans that fit nicely over narrow hips and long, muscular legs.

Her eyes shifted and discovered that the face was just as spectacular as the body, and not entirely unfamiliar.

It was the man from the café, and along with the sense of recognition came a quiver inside—a humming vibration that rippled from her center all the way to her fingertips and churned up everything in between. The sensation was both unexpected and unwelcome, and she fought against it as her gaze locked with his.