Once Upon a Princess

by Holly Jacobs

  “Don’t you see, you’re right in the middle. You’re being all chummy in the car, all let-me-make-sure-you’re-safe, as if you care about me, as if you know me. But you don’t. You said it before—I’m a job. I’m just a file in your cabinet and a paycheck for a job well done. We’re not friends. You don’t know me.”

  “Wrong,” he said.

  “About what?”

  “I know you, Parker Dillon. I’ll confess, I don’t know Princess Marie Anna Parker Mickovich Dillonetti of Eliason, but I know Parker.”

  He’d followed her for going on two weeks and he’d learned a lot. When he’d taken the job, he’d expected to find a princess, a privileged lady who was slightly spoiled and expected the world to do her bidding. He’d found a woman—a real woman—instead. A woman he admired a little more each day.

  “What do you know?” she asked, a challenge in her tone.

  “I know you like hockey, that you’re a big Erie Otters fan. I know you’re kind—”

  She shook her head, her blond ponytail whipping back and forth. “You don’t know that.”

  Jace felt a sudden urge to pull the band from her hair and watch it spill down across her shoulders.

  But of course he didn’t. Instead he said, “I do know you’re kind. You check on your landlady every day. You gave your college girlfriends money to start Monarch’s and Titles. You were even polite tonight to your supposed fiancé.”

  “No, I wasn’t. I sent him home.”

  “There’s a kindness in dispelling someone’s misconception right from the get-go, rather than waiting for them to figure it out on their own and invest their emotions into something that’s never going to happen.”

  “You’re twisting everything around. If I were truly kind, I’d go home and make my father happy.”

  “And be miserable yourself. Eventually your father would figure out that you just did it for him and he’d feel guilty. So you could say it’s the same sort of thing as telling that prince you’ll never marry him. You not going home might hurt your father right now but not as badly as it would hurt later, when he discovered his manipulations had made you miserable.”

  “I’m not going to argue with you. But you’re wrong. And everything you mentioned you could have learned from a bunch of documents. It doesn’t prove you know me.”

  She was right. He’d learned most of that information from the file her father had sent him. But watching her had taught him things no file contained.

  “You like the lake,” he said softly. “You like seagulls. You like children, and to the best of my knowledge, you don’t kick dogs. You take your coffee black, just like I do, and your favorite color is orange.”

  She laughed. “Okay, so you know things about me. Still not the same.”

  “Invite me up. You can let me really get to know you while I check and see the place is safe.”

  “I’ve lived here three years and I have a security system. The best on the market—my father saw to that. The apartment’s safe. It’s practically a fortress.”

  “But—”

  She stopped him. “Consider this another kindness. I’m laying it on the line, not mincing words. No, you’re not coming up tonight. Go home.”

  “Fine. Have it your way. You’ve been through enough already.” He got back in the car and restarted it. “See you tomorrow, Parker,” he said out the opened window.

  “Not if I see you first,” she countered.

  Jace watched until she let herself in the apartment door, then backed out of her drive. He wasn’t heading home. The princess might be his top priority, but he had other cases to attend to. Sometimes as he juggled cases he wished he had a partner, but the feeling never lasted. Jace liked his independence and liked the freedom working for and by himself gave him.

  He was able to pick cases that were interesting.

  Cases like his princess.

  He was smiling.

  She was definitely interesting.

  Parker had been right. He’d known a lot of cold, hard facts about her from the initial reports. And trailing her, he’d thought he was really getting to know her. But tonight he’d learned there was still a lot to find out. And truth be told, the more he found out, the more he liked his runaway princess.

  Princess.

  He had to remember that Parker was a princess.

  It was too bad, because beneath her tiara there was a woman that Jace would like to know even better.

  Not if I see you first.

  Parker groaned as she replayed the horribly lame comeback in her mind.

  She knew she’d sounded like a kid. Not if I see you first.

  Before she knew it, she’d be using phrases like your mama and oh, yeah.

  She sighed as she tapped the code into the security system and let herself into the apartment.

  Princesses should live in castles.

  She rearmed the system and climbed the stairs into the living room.

  Princess preconceptions were rampant.

  Parker remembered her governess, with her mile-long list of princess dos and don’ts.

  A princess should be seen and not heard.

  A princess should walk, not run.

  Princesses do not whoop like banshees.

  Princesses shouldn’t cross their legs, wear jeans, chew gum, get tattoos.

  Okay, so Parker had never felt an overwhelming urge to tattoo anything, despite the fact Shey had tried to convince her it was fun. And she wasn’t even a big fan of chewing gum, but she liked to speak her mind, enjoyed a well-worn pair of jeans and liked crossing her legs.

  She walked through the living room onto the small front deck without turning on a light.

  There was no car in the drive. She looked up and down the street.

  Nothing.

  Jace O’Donnell had indeed left.

  Good.

  The last thing Parker needed was another goon trailing after her. Why, she’d finally gotten rid of Hoffman.

  She smiled as she thought about the retired cop her father had hired. Getting rid of him hadn’t been all that hard, but she didn’t think she could ditch Jace as easily.

  She stared into the night. Even though it was too dark to really see much, she knew what was out there. It was why she lived in a garage apartment, not a castle. She had her touch of ordinariness and a great view of Lake Erie to boot.

  Despite the ink-black darkness, she could watch the small dots of light from the boats bob and sway as she tried to think of some way to get Jace off the case.

  No idea magically appeared.

  All that kept flashing through her mind was an image of Jace, dark and slightly dangerous looking, standing in the faint glow of light on the path in the park.

  That was quickly followed by the memory of him with his niece and nephew. Nothing ominous about him then.

  He was a man of contradiction.

  A man who knew things about her.

  All she knew about him was that he was a good uncle and a private detective hired to follow her around.

  Not an impressive list of knowledge.

  The phone rang.

  Parker checked her caller ID. She simply wasn’t up to another fight with her father and she absolutely did not want to talk to Tanner. But the coast was clear. Shey’s number was on the small screen.

  Parker picked up the receiver and said, “Thanks for picking up Tanner.”

  “There’s a problem,” Shey said, her voice low and dangerous.

  Parker’s stomach clenched.

  “What now?” she asked. “Who else could my father send?”

  “Not your father. Your prince.”

  “He’s not my prince,” she muttered, even as she breathed a sigh of relief.

  She might not want to, but she could deal with Tanner.

  She could even deal with Jace.

  She just didn’t want to take on someone else on top of the two of them. Erie was starting to feel crowded with men she was avoiding. “Okay, so what did Tanner
do?”

  “It’s what he didn’t do. He didn’t leave.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, Tanner and his goons—”

  “His goons?”

  “He brought bodyguards, three of them. Anyway, they have rooms at the new hotel on the bayfront, but Princey here won’t go. He says he’s staying with me.”

  “Why on earth would he want to stay with you?”

  “Because he says he figures you’ll come rescue me eventually and then he’ll get to talk to you.”

  “Do you need me to rescue you?” Parker asked, not wanting to desert a friend.

  “No,” Shey said with a chuckle.

  If there was a prize for least in need of rescuing, Shey Carlson would win it.

  “I just called to see how nice I have to be. He’s your fiancé, after all.”

  “No, he’s an old childhood friend, not a fiancé. And you don’t have to be nice at all.”

  “Really?” Shey asked.

  “Really,” Parker assured her, although she felt a pang of sympathy for Tanner. There was no way he could be prepared for Shey. Parker was pretty sure that he’d never met anyone like her friend in his high-society circles.

  “Great,” Shey said.

  Parker could picture Shey’s smile. It was the one she used when she was about to cause trouble.

  Causing trouble was something Shey excelled at.

  “Just don’t do anything that will land either of us in jail. I could probably get diplomatic immunity, but you’d be sunk.”

  “No problem. Hang on, Princey here wants to talk to you.”

  There was a shuffling sound as Shey handed the phone over. Then Tanner’s very proper voice said, “Parker, it’s imperative we talk.”

  “The only thing I have to say to you, Tanner, is get out. Get out while you still can. Shey’s not happy about you camping out at her place, and when Shey’s not happy, things get dangerous.”

  “Parker, your father said—”

  “Whatever he said was a lie. I’m sorry, Tanner, but we’re not engaged.” She’d said that before and it hadn’t worked, so she added, “Uh, well, you see, there’s someone else.”

  “Someone else? Who?”

  “Uh,” Parker said, trying to stumble on a name to give him. This was a prime example of why she didn’t lie—she didn’t do it well. She had to think of something.

  “That man from tonight?” Tanner finally asked when the silence had gone on a bit too long.

  She breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes. Yes, that’s who, the man from tonight.” She crossed her fingers at the lie.

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “I’m very serious about him. He’s funny and kind…and he sees me as a woman, not a princess. Please, Tanner, listen to my advice. Good night.”

  She hung up the phone without waiting for him to reply. And headed for bed. Today was indeed one of the longest days of her life.

  It felt as if Parker had barely shut her eyes when the phone rang.

  “Hello?” she said, her voice raspy from lack of sleep.

  She glanced at the clock.

  Eight-oh-seven.

  She was going to assume she hadn’t slept through her whole day off and it was 8:07 a.m., not 8:07 p.m.

  Who on earth would call at such an ungodly hour?

  “Princ—Parker?”

  At the sound of his voice, she had her answer.

  Jace. Jace O’Donnell.

  That’s who.

  She should have known he’d be the kind of man to call and wake her.

  “There had better be some emergency, something involving a great deal of blood and doctors, because nothing short of that will save you from my wrath. It’s my day off and you woke me,” she informed the didn’t-sound-as-if-he-was-bleeding detective.

  She pulled the covers over her head to block out the morning light.

  “It’s not my emergency, but it could be yours. If I were your prince, I’d try to corner you at home today.”

  She sat upright. The protective covers fell and she blinked in the light. “How do you know?”

  There was silence from the other end of the phone line.

  “Oh,” she said. “That’s right. You’re a spy.”

  “A detective,” he corrected.

  “A stalker,” she added, just to antagonize him.

  “A good detective.” He paused a half beat, then added, “So, don’t you think it’s wise to clear out now? Unless you want to meet your prince this morning.”

  She rubbed her eyes. “No. I’ve said everything I need to say to him.”

  “So, what are you going to do?” he pressed.

  She looked at her paper-thin Mercyhurst College T-shirt and her cutoff sweats.

  “Get dressed and take off before he gets here,” she said. “I’m hoping if I avoid him long enough, he’ll get the hint.”

  “I have a suggestion,” Jace said.

  A brief image flashed through her mind. An image of her and Jace standing face-to-face. Jace whispering, I have a suggestion. But in that brief fantasy, his voice is softer, huskier, and she knew just what the suggestion was.

  And in that fleeting fantasy, she whispered, Yes before he even has a chance to make the suggestion.

  Parker pushed the momentary lapse of sanity into the dark recesses of her mind.

  Her and Jace?

  It was crazy.

  It was absurd.

  “Parker, do you want to hear my suggestion?” he asked, his voice filled with exasperation rather than the intimacy of her fantasy.

  Suggestions…

  Jace…

  She gave herself a shake before she could drift off into another daydream and said, “Sure. What?”

  “Don’t sound so suspicious.”

  It wasn’t suspicion he heard in her voice, but Parker wasn’t going to tell him that.

  “Hurry up,” she said. “I have to make my escape.”

  “I was simply going to ask if you’d like to spend the day with me and the kids. My sister has an appointment with a court-appointed arbitrator today about her divorce settlement. I said I’d watch them—the kids. And since I’ve been hired to watch you, as well, my choices are limited. Either I bring them with me as we trail you or you come with us.”

  “I can’t believe it. You’re stalking me and want me to make your job easier?”

  “It’s not a question of making it easy on me. You’d better keep the princess gig, because you don’t have a future in eluding spies,” he said. “Following you isn’t all that hard. But it’s not much fun for the kids.”

  “So, I should do it for the kids?” She tried to feel annoyed—really, really worked at it for a moment. But she found it difficult to manage since she wanted to laugh at his odd logic.

  Odd logic that sort of made sense to her.

  “Yeah, for the kids,” he said. She could hear the smile in his voice, as well. “And look at it this way—the kids and I have to be more fun than spending a day running from a man who thinks he’s engaged to you.”

  Even if she hadn’t planned on saying yes, this final piece of Jace’s logic would have convinced her.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Yes, it would be more fun or yes, you’ll come with us?”

  “Both.” She couldn’t help it—this time she chuckled. She could hear his small laughter echo hers.

  “Fine,” he said. “We’ll pick you up in half an hour. That is, if a princess can get dressed and ready to face the world in half an hour.”

  Parker merely snarled her response before she hung up.

  She’d just signed up to spend a day with her father’s spy. She flopped back against the pillow and wondered what sort of instability had affected her mind, because only a crazy woman would think spending a day with her father’s hired thug was any better than spending it with her father’s choice of fiancé.

  But for some insane reason, spending the day with Jace did seem a lot better than spendin
g it with Tanner.

  It had to be the kids.

  Yes.

  Parker liked kids.

  It wasn’t Jace or that fleeting image of him standing so close that convinced her.

  It had to be the kids.

  Trying to convince herself that that’s all it was, Parker hurried out of bed to get ready.

  She’d show him how prompt a princess could be.

  “I want the frog,” Amanda said as they stood in front of a game after lunch.

  “That’s another bottle I’d have to knock down,” Jace moaned. “I only have one more ball. It took me eleven balls to get the first two bottles down. Can’t you pick a smaller animal? Look, we have enough for the little penguins.”

  “The frog’s the only cute one,” the girl whined.

  It wasn’t a real whine.

  She was grinning.

  Torturing her uncle.

  Parker liked her.

  “But, Amanda—” he started.

  “Oh, just give me the ball, you big baby,” Parker said, her hand extended. “I’ll knock down the last bottle.”

  “You?” Jace scoffed.

  Parker glared at him. “You think a woman can’t throw as hard as a man?”

  “I think a prin—”

  She cleared her throat and shot what she hoped was a significant look at his niece and nephew.

  He caught her meaning and changed princess to “—a piece of work like you can’t.”

  She held out her hand. “Give me the ball and I’ll show you just what I can do.”

  “Listen, it cost me five bucks to knock over the first two. This is my last ball.”

  “Wrong,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s my last ball.”

  “Fine. But if Amanda doesn’t get the frog, it’s on your shoulders.” He grinned as he placed the ball in her hand. Their fingers brushed before he withdrew.

  It was just the smallest of touches, and yet Parker felt a small zing of awareness. The same sort of feeling she’d had that first day when he’d saved her from spilling her tray.

  She ignored it and said, “Let me show you what a woman can do.”

  She eyed the bottle, wound up and threw the ball with all her might. She aimed right at the base. The ball hit with a satisfying thunk, followed by the clatter of the bottle hitting the counter.

  “Voilà,” she said, laughing as she took a small bow.