The Prince's Texas Bride Read Online Free Page B

“Well, you won’t want to skip any of the courses tonight. Our newest chef is fabulous.”
    â€œHere, here,” Jacques said. “Much improved over food at the university.”
    Eve lifted her water glass and took a swallow. “Newest,” she echoed. “How new is he?”
    Bridget glanced at Stefan. “Three months, would you say? The employment director had to replace the former chef.”
    Hiding a grin of amusement behind her glass, Eve took another sip and met Stefan’s gaze. “Is that so?”
    He raised a dark eyebrow as if he knew exactly whatshe was thinking. “The employment director made that decision. I had nothing to do with it.”
    â€œOh, I know why he was dismissed,” Phillipa said. “He was coming to work later and later due to a drinking problem. The employment director set him up with a special rehabilitation program.”
    Stefan lifted his glass of wine, his lips twitching in amusement before he took a sip. “Eve seems to be under the misguided impression that I fire so many staff members we may as well have a revolving door for them.”
    All four Devereaux stared at her with questions in their eyes. Eve coughed as her water went down the wrong way.
    â€œWhat on earth made you think that?” Phillipa asked. “Stefan delegates almost all of the hiring to the employment director.”
    â€œI never said that. I—” The gleam in his eyes told her he was enjoying her discomfort far too much. Eve frowned at Stefan, rising to the challenge. She was a Texan, for Pete’s sake, and she refused to be intimidated. “How many horse managers have you gone through? How long did my predecessor last before you bumped him off?”
    Shocked silence followed, and Eve lifted her chin even as she felt herself being stared down by everyone in the room.
    Stefan’s bark of laughter broke the silence and the tension. “To Americans,” he said and lifted his glass. “You don’t take crap from anyone.”
    Stefan’s siblings gaped at her in surprise. Bridget recovered first, lifting her glass in salute. “We can learn by her example.”
    Stefan lifted his hand in disagreement. “There’s adifference between defending oneself and constantly quarreling.”
    â€œBut, Stefan—”
    â€œEnough, Bridget,” he said and turned to Phillipa. “How are your studies progressing?”
    Stefan held her attention with how he conducted himself. He exhibited a magnetism that combined power, intelligence and complete masculinity. She’d never met a man who possessed such a combination. She was accustomed to sly cowboys and corporate managers with egos bigger than their paychecks.
    She studied his hands as he cut his beef and lifted his glass of wine to his lips. His fingers were long, and she remembered feeling the faintest bit of a callous in his palms when he’d shaken her hand. She’d liked that about him.
    Now, as she watched him talking to his siblings, she liked the way he focused on them instead of himself. She wondered if he kept his concerns and worries from his siblings. She wondered if he’d protected them a bit too much.
    â€œIf everything works out, I may do an exchange course in Italy this summer. Florence,” Jacques said with a half grin. “My advisers say I’m spending enough time on soccer and they want me to be well-rounded.”
    â€œFlorence,” Bridget muttered and gave a low, barely audible growl. She cleared her throat. “Speaking of art, Eve and I were talking just a couple of weeks ago about the idea of building a children’s art museum in Chantaine.”
    Eve cringed at being dragged into Bridget’s power struggle with Stefan.
    â€œBridget, you know the agreement about our family dinners,” Stefan said with a sigh. “No discussion aboutfinancial proposals or arguments about politics. This is a time for us to