Once Upon A Prince. Holly Jacobs
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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.