Once Upon a Prince (Silhouette Romance)

by Holly Jacobs

“Ah, now those I don’t mind,” Shey replied.

  Flirting. She was flirting right back. With Peter.

  Tanner realized he’d had enough. He rose and entered the second room. “I think the poker game is over.”

  The men started to clear the table, but Shey simply glared at him. “Pardon?”

  “I said, that’s enough cards for the night, Shey. My men have a full day ahead of them tomorrow. They’re going to locate my erstwhile fiancée.”

  At the mention of Parker, Shey glared at him, even as she rose. “Thanks for the cards, guys. It was the best time I’ve had all day.” She paused, shot him an evil look and added, “In a couple of days.”

  The men all bade their good-nights, and, shooting Tanner questioning looks, left for their rooms.

  “Well, Mr. Party Pooper, that was nice. Just because you’re pouting because you haven’t spent your time finding Parker doesn’t mean you need to make all of us miserable, as well.”

  “Maybe I just thought…how does the phrase go?” He dug through his memories of his college days in Boston and hit the right one. “Turnabout is fair play.”

  Thinking about Boston brought so many memories back. He’d spent four years in Cambridge at Harvard. Four years in relative anonymity. A small taste of freedom in the midst of a restrained life.

  Shey reminded him of that time. Brash, free, exciting.

  She was a breath of fresh air that made him wonder just when it was he forgot how to breathe.

  He remembered riding into Erie on the back of her bike, pressed to her, holding her. She was an attractive woman, who didn’t seem to realize it. He thought about being tucked on her couch, surrounded by her scent, knowing she was upstairs.

  Now, watching her flirt with his man. Yes, she made him miserable, all right.

  Rather than tell her any of that, he said, “Let’s just say you’re not making me happy.”

  Shey also reminded him that when he’d left Boston he’d left that part of him—that freedom—behind…a part that Shey exemplified.

  Yes, she definitely wasn’t making him happy.

  Shey grinned and replied, “Well, then I guess I’m doing my job.”

  * * *

  “Are you comfortable?” Tanner asked, still formal and almost pensive.

  They were the first words he’d said to her since her doing-her-job comment. She’d meant it as a joke, just another one of their jabs, but it seemed to have bothered him.

  Yes, annoying him, forcing him to give up and leave Erie without Parker was her goal, but his retreat disturbed her.

  Before she’d entered the bathroom, he’d silently handed her a silky pair of pajamas. She didn’t exactly swim in them, but they were big. But as she slid the soft fabric over her body, she didn’t mind. It felt decadent and made her feel sexy. Shey was more at home in denim and leather, but, she secretly admitted to herself, maybe she should invest in some silk.

  Silk underwear might work. After all, no one except herself would know she was wearing it, so it wouldn’t mess with her image.

  And for some reason, now more than ever, keeping her tough facade in place was a necessity. If princy saw any chink in her armor, who knew what he might do? Her first job was to keep him distracted and away from Parker. Her second was to convince him to go home alone…with no fiancé.

  She had to admit, the day hadn’t been as bad as she’d thought it would be. Tanner was a hard worker, and she’d actually enjoyed the poker game. Tanner’s guards weren’t as goonish as she’d suspected. Emil, Tonio and Peter were actually pleasant company. An added bonus was that they made a nice buffer between her and the prince.

  Peter had spent the better part of the game flirting with her. She didn’t take it personally. Peter struck her as the kind of man who had perfected these skills with lots and lots of practice. She found it impossible to hold it against the good-natured guard.

  Emil was just fun. He had a deep, infectious laugh, and a quick smile.

  And Tonio. He was quiet and serious compared to the other two, but by the end of the game, he’d started to loosen up. Until Tanner kicked them all out.

  Shey didn’t want to leave the bathroom and face the prince. She wished she could just go home, but was afraid he’d be true to his word and go after Parker the moment she left.

  Taking a deep breath, she walked out to the living room.

  Tanner was standing by the couch that she had claimed for a bed, staring at her in a strange way. She looked down, and was reassured that the pajamas were as big as she’d thought they were. So big in fact that it was impossible to tell she had breasts.

  So, this wasn’t a he’s-checking-me-out-in-silk-pajamas look; it was just another one of his weird looks, which he’d been shooting in her direction all day.

  At first, they’d sort of set her teeth on edge, but at the moment she suspected any edginess she felt wasn’t annoyance.

  She wasn’t sure what it was, but she felt suddenly warm.

  “What?” she said.

  “I asked if you were going to be comfortable.” His voice was odd. Sort of a husky whispered quality she hadn’t noticed before.

  She walked past him and sat on the couch as she replied, “I’m sure I’d be quite comfortable if you’d stop staring at me like that.”

  “So my staring makes you uncomfortable?” he asked, kneeling down so he was eye-level with her, a smile playing on his lips.

  Shey would never admit it, but Tanner had a great smile. It didn’t just play along his mouth, but traveled right up to his eyes, making them sort of glow with pleasure.

  Pleasure?

  She sure didn’t want staring at her to bring him anything even remotely like pleasure. “I’m not going to play word games with you. It’s late. Go to bed.”

  “Speaking of beds, you’re welcome to mine,” he said with a mock-leer while sort of wiggling his eyebrows.

  Shey couldn’t help a small chuckle as she said, “Sorry, princy, but I think I’ll pass.”

  “Party pooper,” he said, using the term she’d used on him earlier. He rose and started to walk toward his room.

  “Tanner?” Shey called.

  “Yes?” he turned.

  Shey surprised herself by asking, “Do you miss her?”

  “Who?”

  “That woman you mentioned. The last one you dated, who isn’t as infuriating as I am. Do you miss her? Miss having someone? I guess it must be hard to meet women in your line of work. Well, not exactly hard to meet women, but to meet ones who aren’t after you for the wrong reasons. That was one of Parker’s big fears—being wanted because of what she was rather than who she was.”

  “She told you that?”

  “Not in so many words, but friends know these things. So, do you miss your last girlfriend?”

  “No,” he answered. “I should have ended it much sooner. The relationship was a mistake from the beginning. Stephana thought it would be all Cinderella on the dance floor at the ball, when in reality…” he paused.

  “It’s work,” Shey filled in.

  “Yes. And you’re right about meeting women who see me, not the crown. I’m tired of women who want to play princess, who don’t understand what the title truly means. That’s why Parker is the perfect choice. She does understand what it means to be a princess, to live in the spotlight.”

  “She understands, and she doesn’t want it.”

  Tanner shrugged. “As I said, there’s my duty to my country. In Parker they’d get the perfect princess, someone who’s already done the job, in fact. Stephana thought it meant money and luxury, when it is, as you said, hard work. It’s travel, meetings, ceremonies you’re always ‘on’—always engaged with whomever you meet, wherever you visit. There’s philanthropy, diplomacy, history and yes, even producing an heir.”

  “And you’d get a safe relationship. No more putting yourself on the line, taking risks on women who will never see anything but your title and your crown.”

  “Yes,” he said. �
��So, you’ll help me?”

  “I’d like to say yes. I mean, I understand you a little better, but I still don’t agree. Because even if Parker were the best thing that could happen to you, I don’t think you’re necessarily the best thing that could happen to her. She doesn’t want to go back to that life.”

  “She was born to it,” he insisted.

  “But she’s chosen a different way.”

  “Sometimes we’re not given a choice.”

  “Right. But sometimes when we’re not given something, we have to take it.”

  “What about you, Shey? Have you taken what you wanted, or simply taken what’s been handed to you?”

  “For me it’s not a question of taking, but a question of working. I’ve worked for what I’ve got, worked my way to where I am.”

  “Was it worth it?”

  She thought about Parker and Cara, about their friendship, about the businesses they’d built from the ground up. “Yes,” she said. “It was.”

  Tanner studied her for a moment. Shey wasn’t sure what he saw, but finally he smiled and gave a small nod. “Good night.”

  “Good night,” she said.

  As soon as he went into his room, she got up and hooked her keyring to the doorknob of the suite. If someone tried to open the door, her keys would clink, and, she hoped, that would be enough to wake her, because she had to get some sleep.

  Who knew trailing after a prince could be so tricky?

  * * *

  Tanner glared at Shey the next afternoon. He’d thought they’d reached an understanding last night. But as she shot him a self-satisfied smile from across the small boat and waved, he wasn’t so sure.

  She was enjoying herself…at his expense.

  She’d suggested that before he start looking for Parker in earnest they have breakfast on the bay. Her friend Cara had a boat and given Shey the key.

  Tanner knew he should say no. They were on his turf, and he could easily use his men to keep Shey from following him. He could have made a clean break.

  Instead, he found himself agreeing to breakfast and a water tour.

  He should have known better than to trust her. Women were a tricky gender.

  Of course, he was trickier. He touched the mobile phone in his jacket pocket and resisted a smile. Instead, he set out to distract her until the cavalry arrived.

  “Fix it,” he said, not for the first time. He didn’t need to point at the small engine at the back of the boat; she knew what he was talking about. She’d planned it, after all.

  She kicked off her sandals, looked up and said, “Can’t.”

  There was that smile again. It made his blood pressure spike every time she flashed that grin in his direction. He was sure the rush of heat that accompanied his increased heart rate was irritation. After all, what else could it be?

  “You did something,” he accused.

  “Prove it.” She turned and dangled her feet over the edge of the small motor boat looking totally relaxed…and sexy.

  No, he immediately took that thought back. Not sexy. He couldn’t allow himself to think that way.

  “I don’t have to prove it…I know it,” he assured her.

  He knew that she was sexy… No, not sexy. Vexing he quickly substituted, but not before his entire body tightened. She appeared so carefree, dipping her toes in the bay’s water.

  A small wave slapped against the boat and splashed her, but she didn’t seem to mind that, either. She just turned toward him and said, “Ah, but knowing it and proving it are two very different things in a court of law. I don’t know how it is in Amar, but here we’re innocent until proven guilty.”

  “Shey, I think it’s been a long time since you’ve been innocent.” Even though he was annoyed, he’d meant it as a joke, but all hints of laughter evaporated from her voice. He’d like to think it was anger he saw in her face, but he suspected it was pain. He realized that he’d hurt her.

  Tanner might have wanted to wring Shey’s neck on more than one occasion since he’d met her, but he didn’t want to hurt her.

  “I didn’t mean it that way,” he said softly.

  “Sure you did. I mean, a woman who rides a motorcycle and has a tattoo, who prefers her independence, why, she must have loose morals.”

  With sudden insight he knew that this wasn’t the first time that Shey had felt stereotyped.

  “That’s not what I said.”

  “That’s what you meant.” She turned her back to him and slipped her feet into the water.

  “What happened to innocent until proven guilty?” he asked. “I really didn’t mean it that way.”

  “Okay.”

  Wanting to shift the mood he asked, “So what’s your tattoo of?”

  “None of your business,” she said, definitely sounding a bit less upset.

  “Where is it?” he asked. “I’ll check for myself. Truly, I don’t mind.”

  She turned back toward him. “I don’t think so.”

  He thought he saw a hint of a smile and he felt heartened.

  “Please?” he asked.

  “Ah, I thought princes didn’t ask for things, that they just gave orders.”

  “This prince doesn’t just occasionally ask for things he wants, and I assure you that I also know how to apologize. For instance, right now I apologize for taking my teasing too far. You might ride a motorcycle, and even have a tattoo you won’t disclose, but there’s more to you than just those two tiny facets…they’re not what I see when I look at you.”

  “What do you see?” she asked.

  “A friend…the kind of friend who would do anything for those she cares about. Even going to the extent of following me around.”

  “For accuracy’s sake I should probably point out that you followed me first. And that maybe you’re not quite as obnoxious as I initially thought.”

  “I’d have to say that you’re not quite as obnoxious as I thought, either.”

  “We’d better be careful…” she said with a full-blown smile now. “We’re almost turning into a mutual admiration society.”

  “I don’t know if admiration is the right word.” Even as he said it he realized that the words weren’t true.

  He did admire Shey.

  But there was more to his feelings for her than just admiration. He…liked her.

  Liked. It didn’t sound quite accurate, but it was close enough, he wasn’t prepared to dig for a better description of his feelings.

  He liked that she faced life on her own terms. He liked that she had no problem telling him precisely what she thought, that she stood up to him. He just liked the way he felt when he was with her.

  Suddenly, even though he was in the middle of a wide-open expanse of bay and sky, he felt claustrophobic.

  “So how long are you going to hold me hostage out here?” he asked.

  “Maybe until you say you’re ready to go back.”

  “Okay, let’s go back to the hotel,” he said, deliberately misunderstanding.

  “No. Back to your country, to Amar.”

  He shook his head. “Not going to happen. You can’t keep me out on this lake forever.”

  “No, but maybe I can manage to keep you here long enough for Parker to make her escape.”

  “What are we going to do to kill the time?”

  “Enjoy the scenery,” she suggested, grinning at him, sweeping her hand to encompass the shoreline.

  Something in the middle of Tanner’s stomach twisted and he had a funny feeling that the scenery they’d each be enjoying would be quite different.

  * * *

  Tanner shot her a funny look, intense, as if he suddenly saw something Shey didn’t necessarily want him to see. She felt a stab of nervousness.

  “For instance,” she said in an attempt to hide the fact he was affecting her, “this bay has downtown Erie on one side, and Presque Isle, a natural peninsula, on the other. You can go out to the peninsula and see some of the most beautiful sunsets ever. The beaches are
great, and we have pontoon boats that take you on tours of the lagoons. It’s a state park and there’s a diverse array of animal and plant life, some of which you don’t find anywhere in the area except on the peninsula.”

  “Maybe we could visit, I mean, if Cara’s boat will cooperate and you’re not planning to take me back to Erie anytime soon,” he said, his eyes narrowing as he studied her.

  “Oh, no, I’m much too smart for that,” Shey said, laughing. “You’re just hoping you can find a park ranger and report me for kidnapping.”

  “Did it ever occur to you that your description of the peninsula has simply inspired me to witness that natural wonder?” he asked.

  “Didn’t even cross my mind,” she promised.

  Shey enjoyed sparring with the prince. To be honest, she enjoyed his company. That was odd and she immediately decided not to reflect on why she enjoyed his company.

  He’d be leaving soon, so it would be a moot point, anyway.

  “Okay, so maybe it’s not the scenery,” he said. “Maybe I’m hoping if we go over to the beach you’ll want to go swimming.”

  “Sorry, no swimming. We don’t have any suits.” They’d stopped at her house that morning and she’d showered and changed, but hadn’t thought to grab a suit.

  “I’ll buy you a bikini.” He wiggled his eyebrows in a suggestive, definitely non-royal way. He looked like a little boy, teasing her over who got the last cookie in the jar.

  “Right,” she said, with just the right amount of scoffing in her voice.

  “I’d like to see you in a bikini.” He wiggled his brows again.

  Shey couldn’t help it, she laughed. “It’ll never happen, slick. I’m not a bikini kind of girl.”

  “Maybe you’d make an exception this once? I’d get to see your tattoo.” He paused. “I would see your tattoo if you had a bikini on, wouldn’t I?”

  “Since I’m not going to put on a bikini, you’ll never know. Sorry to disappoint you. I mean, I realize a prince isn’t used to being shut down, but princy, that bikini door is definitely shut.”

  “You’re sure I can’t convince you?”

  “Positive,” she said.

  “There’s nothing you’d bargain for?”

  She thought a moment, then said, “Sure. You forget this foolishness about being engaged and leave Parker alone. If you do I’ll not only tell you what my tattoo is, I’ll show it to you.”