Alex groaned in frustration. She couldn’t decide if she was being practical or a coward. Did she choose duty over love because duty was always clearer and safer? Did she love Mitch? Did he care about her? Were they having a torrid affair, or was it something more? If only she had the experience to know. But she didn’t and she couldn’t think of a single person to ask.
Princess slowed to a walk, then moved toward her. When the mare snuffled at her jacket pocket, Alex pulled out a slice of apple and fed it to her.
‘‘Sweet girl,’’ she murmured, patting her neck, then stroking her soft nose. ‘‘You’re getting more relaxed, aren’t you? I missed you while I was gone. I think you missed me a little, too. Maybe by the end of the week you’ll feel safe enough to let me ride you. Would that be nice?’’
The bay mare nodded her head, as if she could understand. The thought made Alex smile. She hugged the horse. ‘‘Once I can ride you, it’s just a matter of time until you’re calm enough to breed again. Won’t that be nice? You can have pretty babies of your own.’’
She closed her eyes and pressed her face into Princess’s warm, sweet-smelling coat. The horse made a huffing sound. Alex took that as agreement. But when she tried to imagine the horse with her foals, what she saw instead were towheaded toddlers running through a field. Babies, but the human kind. Her children. Hers with Mitch.
A sharp jolt of longing wrapped itself around her heart. The unexpected pain made her gasp, and she bit her lower lip to keep from crying. Her mother had been right. She loved Mitch.
Maybe it would have been obvious to anyone but her. Maybe if she’d had more experience she would have recognized the symptoms. But she hadn’t, and now it was too late. What was she supposed to do? How could she make it work? Because that was what she wanted. But did Mitch? She wasn’t just the girl next door. If he felt the same way, they were going to have to do a lot of compromising. Was he willing to do that?
She imagined the sweet toddlers again and felt a smile tugging at her lips. They could have children together. Dozens of them. She laughed out loud. All right, perhaps not dozens, but at least two or—
Babies, she thought. Babies as in… A thought formed. Alex pushed it away, but it returned. She touched her flat stomach. She was fine, she told herself. She and Mitch had been very careful about using condoms. Her mind flashed back to the time they’d made love in the huge bathtub in his bathroom. That night things had gotten a little out of control, and neither of them had thought about protection. The same thing had happened twice in their suite in Malibu. But two or three times without birth control didn’t mean anything. At least, she hoped it didn’t.
Alex led the mare back to the barn. She wouldn’t think about it, she told herself. She couldn’t. Didn’t she and Mitch have enough to deal with already without worrying about her being pregnant?
Chapter Sixteen
Okay, he was fifteen different kinds of a bastard. He knew that. The problem was that Alex probably knew it, too. Mitch paused outside of the den where he knew she was reading. He’d heard her walk by less than fifteen minutes before. He’d also heard her steps hesitate when she’d been in front of his office. He’d sensed her indecision as clearly as if she’d spoken aloud to him. He’d been able to read her thoughts. She wanted to know what was wrong.
In the past few days since they’d returned from Los Angeles, he’d alternated between completely avoiding her and being unable to get enough of her. During the day he stayed busy with work, twice not even coming back in time for dinner. But each night he’d appeared at her door, not saying anything, yet silently begging for admission. Each time he’d expected her to tell him what a jerk he was, or at the very least to slap him. Instead she’d led him to her bed. Each time he promised himself he was going to tell her the truth, or at least as much of it as he’d figured out. Which wasn’t much.
But he hadn’t. Instead he’d continued to bury himself in work because it was safe. Because he didn’t feel that he had any choice in the matter. Because he didn’t want to admit the truth.
He’d fallen for her. Not just in a casual, isn’t-the-sex-great-and-maybe-we-can-get-together-some-time kind of way, but for real. As in wanting it all.
He swore softly. He’d made some mistakes in his life, but this was one of the biggest. Falling for a princess—what the hell had he been thinking? Except he hadn’t been thinking, at least not with his head. He should have kept things light, or at the very least not bothered to find out there was an intriguing person behind the title. Life had been a whole lot easier when she’d gotten on his nerves.
If she’d been any other woman, he would have tried to make it work. He would have wanted to talk about compromise and kids and forever. But how was he supposed to compromise with a future queen? Was he willing to give up the ranch?
Mitch pressed his hand against the sturdy hall wall—the same wall his grandfather had built. His family had lived on this land for generations. Of course, Alex could make a case that hers had lived in Wynborough longer. In the grand scheme of things, what difference did his cattle ranch make? She might one day rule a country. Except his ranch mattered to him. He couldn’t exist just to be her consort. He didn’t have any answers, which was why he’d been avoiding her.
‘‘Talk about putting the cart before the horse,’’ he muttered. ‘‘You don’t even know how she feels about you.’’
It was true, he realized. She might think he was a lot of fun for the moment, but no more permanent than a summer—or in this case winter—romance. There was only one way to find out. He pushed open the door and stepped into the study.
Alex sat curled up in one of the big wing chairs flanking the stone fireplace. The green leather was the perfect foil for her coloring. Her hair glowed as bright as the flames in the hearth. She glanced up when he entered. Her eyes were dark and unreadable, her expression pleasant but wary. In the past couple of days he’d given her no reason to trust him or welcome him. If things had gone badly, he only had himself to blame.
‘‘Can I interrupt?’’ he asked.
‘‘Of course.’’
She closed her book and placed it on the small table next to her chair. He took the seat opposite hers and wondered how he was supposed to begin. ‘‘I have some news,’’ he said. ‘‘I don’t know whether to tell you it’s good or bad. I guess that depends on how you interpret it.’’
She raised her eyebrows, but didn’t say anything.
‘‘My parents called a little earlier,’’ he said. ‘‘A reporter tracked them down and wanted to interview them about our relationship. When they claimed not to know anything, the guy showed them pictures.’’ He gave her a slight smile. ‘‘The ones they took at the dance.’’
‘‘Yes, my parents saw those, as well.’’
‘‘I can’t figure out what the big deal is,’’ Mitch told her. ‘‘We were just dancing. Anyway, my mother called to let me know that she and my father would be flying in to meet you.’’
Alex stiffened. ‘‘Your parents want to meet me?’’ She sounded horrified.
‘‘It’s all right. You’re a princess. I’m sure you’ll do fine.’’
