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Once Upon A Prince
Once Upon A Prince
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Once Upon A Prince

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Once Upon A Prince
Holly Jacobs

Royals in Perry Square!—AGAINWe didn't think future princesses rode around on motorcycles, but Shey Carlson—local coffee shop diva—just might prove us wrong! Seems Prince Eduardo Matthew Tanner Ericson is back in town, and this highly eligible bachelor has set his sights on Shey. Of course, stubborn Shey denies all rumors of a royal courtship. But we've seen Tanner steal a kiss from his red-haired beauty, and wow do they kiss! Those who've seen them canoodling couldn't be happier. After all, everyone's rooting for this local girl with a big heart to make good…with a real noble man!

Royals in Perry Square!—AGAIN

We didn’t think future princesses rode around on motorcycles, but Shey Carlson—local coffee shop diva—just might prove us wrong! Seems Prince Eduardo Matthew Tanner Ericson is back in town, and this highly eligible bachelor has set his sights on Shey. Of course, stubborn Shey denies all rumors of a royal courtship. But we’ve seen Tanner steal a kiss from his red-haired beauty, and wow do they kiss! Those who’ve seen them canoodling couldn’t be happier. After all, everyone’s rooting for this local girl with a big heart to make good…with a real noble man!

Once Upon a Prince

Holly Jacobs

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

CONTENTS

Cover (#ua2db979a-6733-5617-9a2d-917e90f784ef)

Back Cover Text (#u07d43075-1bf0-55ae-a545-5f28d3bf606b)

Title Page (#ub2a0d128-233d-5890-b5db-2d1721cf8744)

CHAPTER ONE (#uff115727-f489-5d80-b4d5-2c23cd3ef2b3)

CHAPTER TWO (#u7c938e72-63af-5775-944a-715f781729a2)

CHAPTER THREE (#uc798221a-f2ae-588e-a1aa-8d5a700134fd)

CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_1559d03d-d1c5-5073-af95-500d5d6a9869)

Shey Carlson was waiting for a prince.

Not in a waiting-for-her-personal-Prince-Charming-to-come-riding-to-her-rescue sort of way; rather she was standing in the small airport in Erie, Pennsylvania, waiting for a real, honest-to-goodness royal runs-a-country sort of prince.

Prince Eduardo Matthew Tanner Ericson of Amar to be exact. The unwanted fiancé of Parker Dillon—Shey’s best friend—to be even more exact.

How a girl from humble beginnings ended up waiting to greet a prince was a bit of a mystery. But then it was no more mysterious than the fact that the same girl had a princess as one of her best friends.

A man dressed in an impeccable suit, with perfectly styled dark brown hair and an ultrawhite smile, walked through the terminal door surrounded by three large men with serious expressions. Bodyguards, their stances practically screamed. The trio scanned the area, alert for any hidden danger.

The tallest guard had a thin, muscular build and dark skin, the middle-size one, who was still akin to a giant, was bulkier, and had more of a wrestler’s build and a crew-cut. The third was Asian, with a wiry, lean body. He winked at her as they approached and shot her a thousand-watt smile that Shey was sure worked on most women.

She scowled her response.

Shey Carlson was not most women.

The prince had arrived with his entourage.

“Your Highness?” Shey asked, though she didn’t need to. This man’s mere presence shouted royalty, just as the other three radiated come on and try something.

“Marie Anna, you’ve…” the prince started then paused, obviously searching for something to say. “You’ve changed since we last met.”

Shey looked down at her leather jacket.

She couldn’t imagine Parker wearing anything like it. Not that Parker was prone to wearing a tiara and ball gown, but she wasn’t the leather-jacket type, either.

“Since I’m not Marie Anna—who, by the way, goes by the name Parker these days—I guess change is an accurate word.” She thrust out her hand to shake. “Shey. Shey Carlson.”

The prince ignored her gesture. He was probably more accustomed to people bowing to him and kissing his ring.

Wait a minute, wasn’t it the higher-up clergy who expected ring-kissing?

Did you curtsy to a prince?

This kind of protocol had never been necessary in her lower East Side neighborhood when she was growing up. But whatever it was she was supposed to do, the handshake was the best she had to offer.

Shey Carlson didn’t curtsy or bow to anyone, and she certainly wasn’t into ring-kissing.

Not even for a handsome prince.

“You’re not Marie Anna…Parker?” He scanned the crowd. “Do you mind if I inquire where my fiancée is?”

“Ah, there is another little problem,” Shey said. “You see, Parker’s not your fiancée.”

Mr. Ultrawhite-smile wasn’t smiling now. He frowned. “That’s not what our betrothal papers say. Not what her father says, either.”

“Unless you’re planning to marry her father, I figure it doesn’t matter what he says, or what some papers say. Parker’s not your fiancée.”

“Why don’t you allow Parker,” he drew the name out with obvious distaste, “and I to settle this. Where is she?”

“She doesn’t want to see you, that’s why she asked me to pick you up.”

“And I insist you take me to her.” There was a small tic on the left side of his upper lip.

Did it indicate annoyance?

Shey sure hoped so.

“Fine,” she said with a shrug. “But I don’t have room for your gargoyles on my bike.”

“Bike?” he asked, ignoring the gargoyle comment altogether.

“My Harley. You’re welcome to a ride if you like. The three stooges here can grab your luggage and meet you at the hotel later.”

“Your Highness—” the largest stooge started to protest.

“It’s fine, Emil,” Tanner said with a regal nod of dismissal.

Emil obviously wasn’t intimidated. He didn’t back down. “Your father would be very displeased if we let you go off with a stranger.”

The prince gave Shey a quick once-over and turned back to Quasimodo. “I think I can handle her.”

“I don’t know, Your Highness, maybe you’d better let me handle her for you,” the ladykiller bodyguard said in a low, sultry tone.

“You know Peter has a way with women,” the middle-size brute added.

“That’s enough, Tonio. I’ll handle our unexpected hostess myself.”

Shey couldn’t help it…she laughed. “Better men than you have tried to handle me.”

“Did they succeed?” Tanner asked, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

Shey shook her head. “Not a one.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” This time the smile wasn’t a hint, it was full-blown and quite a sight to behold.

If Shey was prone to let looks influence her, her knees would be decidedly weak at the sight of that smile. But she wasn’t prone in that sense, so she stood quite solidly on the ground despite the fact this prince was easily the sexiest man she’d seen in a very long time.

A very, very long time.

He turned back to his henchmen. “I’ll meet you at the hotel in a short while.”

“Your Highness,” Tonio objected, obviously ready to start another argument.

“Tonio, not another word.”

And without another word to Curly, Mo and Larry, the prince turned to Shey and said, “I’m ready to see my fiancée.”

“You’re in for a treat.”

She led him out of the small airport without another word. She smiled as they reached her baby.

“This is it,” she announced, running a hand over the red tank.

She knew there was pride in her voice. She couldn’t help it. Her father had died when she was five and she didn’t have many memories of him. But she did have a distinct one—it was like a snapshot in her head—of her father, sitting on a flaming red Harley and smiling. A young man with a family who loved him, his whole life in front of him.

“This is our vehicle?” the prince asked, sounding less than enthused.

“No. A Harley is not a vehicle. It’s a bike, a hog, a way of life, but not a vehicle. That’s too plain, too mundane a word to describe a Harley.”

“You love this bike.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Yeah, I do.”

She wasn’t embarrassed by the fact. She’d worked hard to buy the bike. It was more than a memory, more than transportation. The Harley represented how far she’d come from the little girl wearing hand-me-down clothes at school.

“But it’s simply a way of getting from one place to another.” He looked confused.

“A Harley is more than simply a method of going from one place to another.”

He shook his head.

“Have you ever ridden one of these?” Shey asked, though she was pretty sure she knew the answer.

“No.”

“Then let me teach you a thing or two.”

Shey got her spare helmet off the back and handed it to His Royal Cluelessness. “Here, put this on.”

She expected him to fuss that it would mess his perfect hair, that it wasn’t cool to wear a helmet, but the prince simply put it on.

Even though Pennsylvania had recently rescinded its helmet requirements, Shey was still a stickler for them. She slipped on her own helmet, slid her leg over the seat and started the bike.

It roared to life.

“Okay, climb on behind me,” she practically shouted in order to be heard over the rumble of the engine.

The prince did as instructed. His body pressed tightly against hers. His arms wrapped around her waist.

A small shiver of something crept up Shey’s spine.

It had been months since any man had touched her. Her reaction to the prince was simply a hormonal thing. Nothing more.

She kicked the bike into gear and started toward 12th Street.

“Hang on,” she called and she slipped into second, then quickly into third gear.

The feel of wind rushing against her face, the speed…riding the bike never failed to soothe her. But there was something different tonight—the man whose arms were wrapped lightly around her waist. The effect wasn’t quite as soothing as normal. As a matter of fact, there was a strange sensation that twisted her stomach and left her feeling short of breath.

Shey ignored it and simply concentrated on taking the prince to Monarch’s.

She’d let Parker deal with him.