She heard the sound of his shoes in the crisp grass. A moment later, she felt his presence in front of her. He clasped her elbows in his capable hands, brushing a kiss against her closed eyelids. One and then the other.
"Did you hate it so much, then? Being in Glorvaird?"
"No," she whispered, eyes still closed. That's what made this so difficult. "It felt like being home again." Even that last tearful goodbye with Mother had been something she now held close to her heart. "But—"
"Your heart belongs here, too." He brushed his fingers against her cheek, where a tear had escaped. "Your heart can have two homes."
Could it? Was it possible she belonged both here and in Glorvaird?
Luc’s voice was slightly amused when he said, "I suppose that when I said 'I can't live without you,' I should've followed that with 'if that means we're in Texas or Glorvaird or Timbuktu, I'll be happy. Because I'll be with you.'"
She opened her eyes, and he was looking at her with such a combination of vulnerability and intensity. "That is"—she heard the catch in his voice—"if you feel the same."
How could he doubt?
"These past few days,” she said, “I've barely been able to function. I feel as if half of me is missing."
A slight smile turned the corners of his mouth. "It didn't seem that way at your board meeting."
"Because I was imagining you beside me. You and your politics and your charisma."
His smile was slowly blossoming into something bigger. "You find me irresistible?"
"I find it impossible not to fall in love with you."
His smile disappeared as her words sank in. Her stomach swooped the same way it had when she was tossed from a horse she was breaking.
"I can scarcely believe it," he breathed. "I don't deserve it, I'm sure of that. But I love you so dearly that I don't care whether or not I deserve your love in return."
He loved her.
The knowledge sank in deep, filling all the deep places in her that had been scarred by a decade of fighting her fears and hiding out on the ranch.
He kissed her then, tenderly. Like a man who'd just been given everything he wanted. His gentleness gave way to passion, and she met him there in each caress, each breath.
When they finally had to draw back or risk suffocating, he held her close. She could feel his heart pounding beneath her cheek. It made her smile, burying her face in his shirt. One of his hands was tangled in the hair at the back of her head. The ponytail she'd worn all morning had tumbled down at some point, and her hair was wild around her head.
"When do you have to return to Glorvaird?" she asked softly, not sure she wanted to know the answer. Would they have a week together? A few days?
He chuckled a little, the sound rumbling beneath her cheek. "Ernest fired me."
"What?" She moved back to see his face.
"He said I'd done enough for the foundation, and he could tell I was unhappy and it was time for me to move on. I don't think he expected me to pick up and head for America." Luc shook his head, a bemused smile on his face. "I don't know anything about ranching, but maybe I can help with your foundation. I understand Americans are accustomed to having their pizza delivered by men in truck. Perhaps I could do that. Or... anything, really."
She frowned. "I'll happily let you run my father's foundation," She took a deep breath. "I think it's time for me to think about splitting my time between the ranch and Glorvaird. Being a part of the royal family again, out of hiding. I can do so much good."
Maybe if she returned to Glorvaird, Dad would too. It was a wistful hope...
He drew her close again, his chin brushing her temple. "You'll need a place to rest. Recuperate. And maybe work off some of the frustrations you'll accumulate working with hard-headed politicians. Your Triple H can be that."
Yes. It could work. For the first time, she could see a new future stretching out in front of her. A cowgirl. A royal. With Luc at her side.
Epilogue
Valentin strode down the palace hallway toward his suite. Half his attention was on the sheaf of paper in his hand, a lengthy bill he had only muddled partway through. Every so often, he glanced up to ensure he wasn't going to mow down a member of the castle staff.
The other half of him was buzzing with tension. The same tension that had stolen his concentration in the ten days since he'd blown up at Annika.
