The Rancher's Christmas Princess Read Free Page B

the
never-ending sound effects from the machines.
    The Bull’s Eye wasn’t exactly jumping that early December
night. Pres had called ahead and told the owner which table he wanted. It was
the one tucked into that quiet corner, across from the bar.
    Daisy Littlejohn, the owner’s daughter, greeted them, waited
for Pres to hang their coats and his hat on the coat tree by the door next to
the Christmas tree and then led them to the table he’d asked for. Once they were
settled in the red vinyl chairs, she handed them menus. “Wayne will be right
with you.”
    Wayne, the waiter, knew his job. They went through the business
of ordering drinks and food. He got all that out of the way quickly. In no time,
they were left alone with a bread basket and a nice bottle of red wine.
    “It’s not fancy,” Pres said, “but I think you’ll like that rib
eye you ordered.”
    “I’m sure I will.” She sipped from her water glass.
    Pres had ended up facing the door. The bodyguard stood by the
row of chairs in front of the register, out of the way. He seemed to be good at
blending in. Daisy was behind the register counter, fiddling with some receipts
or something. She seemed totally oblivious to the big, silent fellow standing
right there beside her.
    “I looked you up on the internet,” Pres confessed.
    Belle nodded, apparently not in any way surprised. “Did you
find out anything interesting?”
    He buttered a hunk of bread. “I learned about what happened to
your brother.”
    She nodded. “It was terrible for all of us. We were sure he had
died. But he returned to us. And it’s over now. His wife, who is like a sister
to me, is expecting twins next month. They are very much in love, Lili and
Alex.”
    “I read that your Lili is a princess from the island country of
Alagonia.”
    “Yes. Lili’s the crown princess, the heir presumptive.”
    He chuckled. She amused him to no end with her talk of princes
and crowns, of thrones and titles. “And that means?”
    “Lili’s an only child. If her father, the king, never has a
son, she will rule Alagonia one day. She’s called the heir presumptive because
it’s presumed that she will one day be queen,
barring the birth of a male heir. If she were a man, she would be called the
heir apparent and her position as first in line of
succession would be secure, regardless of any future children her father might
have.”
    He studied her expression. “Somehow, you don’t approve of
that?”
    “Well, I think it’s somewhat...backward. As though men were
born naturally superior to women, naturally more suited to rule and therefore
should take precedence. Everyone in the modern world knows that’s completely
untrue.”
    Pres set down his butter knife. “You expecting me to argue that
point with you?”
    “Were you planning to?”
    “Not a chance.”
    She sent him a sideways look. “Good thinking, Preston.”
    He moved on to a safer subject. “I also read that you’re a
nurse, that you work with Nurses Without Boundaries.”
    “Yes. In my family, we believe in being useful. I don’t do a
lot of hands-on nursing, but I am able to help raise
awareness—and necessary funds—to get supplies and medical personnel where
they’re most needed around the world.” She was so damn easy on the eyes. He
could have sat there across from her forever, listening to her beautiful voice,
watching her face, on the lookout for a hint of a smile. And he really was
impressed that she was a nurse. She’d gone and gotten herself an education in a
useful profession, even though she probably had money running out her ears and
would never actually need to work. “What else did you learn about me?” she
asked.
    He swallowed a bite of bread. “Your oldest brother, the heir to
the throne, is a widower with two children.”
    She picked up her wine, took a small sip. “What else?”
    “Your second-born brother married a lawyer from Texas who
happened to be the mother of his son.”
    She chuckled. A