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

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“Then I guess I’ll be sleeping down here.” He frowned at the leather sofa.

Shey would bet a big wad of cash that princy had never slept on a couch in his entire life.

Heck he’d probably never even slept on a twin bed. It was all king-size mattresses for the prince, she was sure.

“No,” she said patiently. “You’ll be going back to your hotel and sleeping there in your nice, spacious penthouse suite.”

She wasn’t sure if the new hotel had a penthouse suite, but if it did, that’s where the prince would be staying.

“Come on,” she urged. “You’ve had your fun, but this plan isn’t going to work. Parker’s going to stay as far away from me as possible, at least until I shake you. So call one of your henchmen to come pick you up, or if you prefer, I can call you a taxi.”

“If Parker is your family, as you claim, then she won’t be able to stay away for very long. She’ll eventually come to your rescue. And when she does, she’ll find me waiting to talk to her.”

“You’re not spending the night,” Shey said with mounting frustration. She felt a totally out-of-character urge to stomp her foot. She caught herself pre-stomp and settled for crossing her arms over her chest.

“I’m going to undress now,” the prince said with a smile. “Of course, you’re welcome to stay, if you like.”

“Threatening to undress in front a stranger.” She shook her head and tsked. “And you an engaged man, and all.”

He pulled off his jacket and reached for the buttons on his shirt.

“You wouldn’t,” she said.

“Try me.”

She felt a tug of curiosity and realized that if the man unbuttoning his shirt hadn’t been a prince—a prince who thought he was engaged to her best friend—she’d be very tempted to try him.

Instead of staying for the show, she turned and said, “Fine. I’m leaving.”

“Oh, do you have a pillow and blanket I can use?”

Do you have a pillow and blanket, he asked in the condescending princy tone. As if someone who didn’t have a mansion or a guest room wouldn’t be able to come up with even a pillow and blanket for a guest.

An uninvited guest, but a guest nonetheless.

How on earth had she found herself in this situation?

Truth was, she didn’t have a spare blanket or pillow. She didn’t need them. She hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d said she never had guests. But she wouldn’t admit that to princy.

Shey stomped up the stairs to her room and took the bedspread and one of the three pillows off her own bed, then carried them back downstairs.

He had completely unbuttoned his shirt, but still had it on. Shey was grateful for that.

Yes, the feeling that washed through her was thankfulness, though surprisingly it felt a bit more like disappointment. Who’d have thought those two distinctly different emotions could feel so similar?

“Here,” she said, holding out the bedding.

Tanner bowed at the waist and said, “Thank you,” then took them.

She couldn’t go without one more try to make him see reason. “Being my shadow is a waste of time.”

“Ah, but it’s my time to waste.”

* * *

Tanner lay on the leather couch wrapped in the blanket Shey had brought. His head rested on the pillow.

Both smelled like her. Warm and spicy.

No sweet cloying scent for Shey.

He smiled.

Shey Carlson was an exceptional woman.

Captivating, even.

He chuckled as he thought about her attempts to get rid of him.

She was tough. She protected her friends with a ferocity that he couldn’t help but admire.

Tanner was used to softer women.

Shey was all warrior.

He rolled again, trying to find a comfortable position, but the movement simply intensified Shey’s scent. It was playing on his senses—surrounding him.

Tanner gave up trying to sleep and resigned himself to a sleepless night.

Here he was in a strange city—a strange country—sleeping on a stranger’s couch. And his fiancée was less than enthused by his visit. He’d hoped when he saw her that he’d feel the magic, he’d feel some spark that would reassure him that they could make a go of marriage.

Instead he’d felt…nothing. Nothing but the remnants of a childhood friendship.

No lightning strike of passion.

No small blaze of interest.

Not even the tiniest ember.

After his disastrous relationship with Stephana, he’d seen the wisdom in his father’s arrangements. Tanner felt that he wouldn’t ever truly know if a woman loved him and not his money and titles, so why not marry a woman who had enough of each not to be after his?

In the end, Stephana had decided all the money in the world wasn’t worth the hassles of noblesse oblige, the obligations of nobility. She claimed she hadn’t signed on to be an unpaid workhorse. She wanted to party, to spend Tanner’s money. When she saw that wasn’t what she was signing up for, she left.

He didn’t miss her. And he was honest enough with himself to know that not missing Stephana meant he’d never really loved her. Whatever he’d had with her, it had been a fraud on both their parts.

He and Parker would at least have honesty between them.

But no spark.

He snuggled farther into the pillow and Shey’s scent surrounded him and he felt a surge of something.

More than an ember.

More than a small blaze.

It was definitely in the lightning category. A lightning strike of interest.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t the least bit interested in him. And she was the best friend of the woman he should be thinking about.

Tanner dozed, and as he slept, he dreamed. Not of Parker, but of Shey. He dreamt of riding the Harley with her, holding her tight as feelings so intense that they threatened to burn him alive assailed him.

* * *

Shey was up before her alarm rang. It wasn’t difficult, since she’d hardly slept. Knowing there was a prince in her living room had played havoc on her dreams, and those dreams had left her reluctant to go back to sleep. So she’d tossed and turned, dozing and dreaming, then fighting to stay awake and not dream, all night.

She hurried to get ready for work. If she was lucky, she would be long gone before Tanner woke up. She just needed a little distance from the decidedly handsome man to regain her equilibrium.

Tanner was off-limits. Not because he thought he was Parker’s fiancé. Parker declared that relationship null and void, so there were no worries there.

No, he was off-limits because even though there was some sort of chemical reaction when he’d wrapped his arms around her, that wasn’t enough. He was a prince. A man used to the finer things. A man of social position and power. The finest thing in Shey’s life was her business and her Harley…and of course, her friends. Though she liked her life just fine, she wasn’t in the prince’s league, no matter what sort of spark she felt.

She was grinning as she tiptoed across the kitchen. She was going to bypass the living room and sneak out the back.

She quietly turned the deadbolt.

She was home free.

She shut the door softly behind her.

“Good morning, Shey.” The prince was leaning against her bike.

Darn.

“What are you doing out here?” she asked, glaring at him.

He looked way too good for a man who was wearing yesterday’s suit and hadn’t even shaved.

As a matter of fact, the stubble on his face took the sheen off his clean-guy image and made him even more attractive in Shey’s estimation.

Not that she was attracted.

Not at all.

“I’m out here waiting for you,” he said with a smile. “So, what’s on the schedule today? Any chance we’re going to see Parker?”

She noticed he’d given up trying to call her friend Marie Anna. Maybe she was making a bit of progress in convincing Tanner that Parker wasn’t who he thought she was, that she wasn’t the woman for him.

“No, we’re not going to see Parker. I’m going to work and you’re going to call your goons and do whatever it is a prince does to fill his days.”

“Wrong. If you’re going back to Monarch’s, I guess I’m going to Monarch’s, as well.”

“Why don’t you just admit defeat and go home?”

“I swore I’d bring a fiancée back with me, and I plan on doing just that.”

“A wise man knows when the battle’s lost.”

“And a great commander would tell you that this particular battle hasn’t even begun.”

“Oh, shut up and climb on the ‘vehicle.’” She sneered the last word in an attempt to mock him.

The prince was far too dense to recognize a good mocking. He just laughed and said, “Having ridden it yesterday I agree, a Harley isn’t just a vehicle. It’s a way of life.”

Now he was mocking her.

Shey glared at him and stalked to the bike. She put her helmet on with a bit more force than necessary.

“If you’re coming, get on.”

“Any chance we can swing by the hotel first so I can grab a shower and change? You were sneaking out early, so I assume we have time.”

“Well, if I’m stuck with you today I might as well make sure you smell good. Fine.”

“You’re a truly gracious host.”

“I’m not a host. I’m your keeper.”

“I have always been a man who resented being kept, being trailed by guards, having my every movement shadowed. But this once, I’m finding I don’t mind it at all.”

“You’re perverse.”

“Maybe, or maybe it’s just…”

Whatever he was going to say was lost in the roar of the Harley. Shey kick-started it and threw it into gear.

* * *

Tanner surveyed the small dining area in Monarch’s. Everything was neat and clean.

He felt a warm rush of pride.

Or maybe that warm feeling was merely the wet area of his shirt where he’d sloshed water on it when he’d rinsed the last load of dishes.

Either way, the day hadn’t gone the way he’d thought it would.

He’d thought he was in control when he’d outwitted Shey and was waiting for her by her motorbike. He’d even felt rather triumphant when she’d taken him to his hotel so he could shower and change while she waited in the lobby.

But she’d thrown the first kink in his plans when she’d tossed a towel at him and taunted, “I don’t suppose a prince such as yourself has ever had to clear his own table, but I’m thinking you’re bright enough to figure it out.”