The Spanish Prince's Virgin Bride
HIS name was Lucas Reyes.
At least, that was the name he preferred.
He was also His Highness Prince Lucas Carlos Alessandro Reyes Sanchez of Andalusia and Castile, heir to a throne that had ceased to exist centuries ago, which made him the great-great-great-Dios, too many “greats” to count-grandson of a king who had been among the conquistadores who tamed a distant land.
That land was America and as far as Lucas could tell, once you reached Texas you knew that those conquistadores only thought they had tamed the land.
Or so it seemed on this hot summer afternoon.
Lucas was driving his rented car along an unpaved excuse for a road beneath the glare of a merciless sun. Rain clouds hung on the distant horizon; at first, he’d foolishly thought they would bring some relief but the clouds seemed painted on an endless blue sky.
Nothing moved, except for the car, and the engine seemed to require more effort to manage even that.
Lucas tightened his hands on the steering wheel and mouthed a short, succinct oath.
He was on his way to a place called El Rancho Grande.
His grandfather had been in communication with its owner, Al ... read full excerpt from: The Spanish Prince's Virgin Bride ebook
