Once Upon A Prince

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!

CONTENTS

Cover

Back Cover Text

Title Page

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

EPILOGUE

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

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.

Parker would send the prince packing and things would get back to normal.

Parker, Cara and Shey, three college friends, worked together at the coffeehouse, Monarch’s, and Titles Bookstore. No guys to muddle things up.

Shey remembered the night they’d come up with the names for their two attached stores. Parker had supplied the financial backing for the venture and they’d wanted to do something to acknowledge their royal friend. They’d all three laughed as they passed the bottle of wine and talked about the future—theirs and the stores’.

Shey had never had women friends before Parker and Cara, but if she’d been asked who’d she’d pick as friends, she would never have said a princess and someone like Cara, a quiet, soft-hearted woman.

Truth be told, when it came down to it, she hadn’t picked Parker and Cara at all…they’d simply meshed. Three people who’d connected and become friends. Friends who were closer than most families.

The prince’s arms tightened ever so slightly, reminding Shey of her unwanted passenger, jolting her from her thoughts.

* * *

Tanner Ericson knew that coming to Erie and collecting his fiancée was going to be a challenge. Marie Anna’s father had told him she might be a bit reluctant.

He’d prepared himself for all kinds of scenarios. But never in his wildest imagination had he thought he’d be whizzing down the city streets on the back of a motorbike driven by a most intriguing woman.

Short, spiky red hair and an attitude that screamed back off. This Shey Carlson was a tough, beautiful woman.

He inched a bit closer and tightened his arms around her waist, not so much because he was worried about falling off her motorbike, but because he liked the way she felt against him.

Eventually she turned off the four-lane street they’d been riding on, and much too soon they were pulling up to the curb.

She cut the motor and Tanner climbed off the bike. He took off his helmet and handed it to her.

“This is it,” she said.

He could hear in her voice that this place, with its small brick storefront, was special to her. The building had two doors. Over the right-hand one was a sign that read, Monarch’s Coffeehouse. It had a small crown tilted over the M.

The other sign read, Titles Bookstore. The same crown was over it, as well.

“Marie Anna’s here?”

“Parker owns the stores, along with Cara and myself. We’re all partners.” Shey started toward Monarch’s. “Come, on, Your Highness.”

He was accustomed to being called Your Highness but he preferred going by Tanner. Of course, he understood the necessity of his title or a more formal means of address when in Amar. But he was in America now. There was no need to stand on formalities here. Not with this woman.

“Tanner,” he said. “Call me Tanner.”

She didn’t say anything, just kept right on walking.

There was nothing for Tanner to do but follow.

He entered Monarch’s and found a blond woman talking to a dark-haired man.

It had to be her—Marie Anna.

He studied the woman he’d pledged to marry.

She hadn’t changed all that much. Yes, she looked less styled: her blond hair was pulled into a messy ponytail and she had on a pair of neat khaki pants and a light blue top.

This was the woman he was going to spend the rest of his life with.

Tanner still had a hard time swallowing the fact that he had agreed to marry a woman he really didn’t know. But it was for the good of Amar.

He’d been lectured since birth that his first obligation was to his country. Small principalities like Amar and Marie Anna’s Eliason, could easily become lost in today’s world. By joining forces, the two small countries might have more clout. So in the age-old custom, he’d allowed himself to become engaged for political purposes.

At least, in public that was the reason he gave. In truth, he was just tired. Tired of women who merely wanted his title, his money. Women who thought they wanted to play princess, until they realized being a princess entailed very little play and an awful lot of hard work.

He was done.

After Stephana, he’d realized he’d never have a normal relationship with a woman, one built on mutual respect and—well, he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but the romantic in him craved a relationship based on love. But he’d simply come to the conclusion that it wouldn’t happen. That’s why he’d agreed to marry Marie Anna—Parker. She understood the intricacies of being a royal in modern society. Their union would be good for their countries.

If he couldn’t have what he wanted, then he’d settle for doing something that would be beneficial for Amar.

“Princess Marie Anna,” he said.

She stared at him and frowned.

“It’s Parker,” was her reply. “It’s been a long time, Tanner.”

“Too long,” he said, smiling at her.

There was no answering smile, as a matter of fact, her frown deepened to a scowl.

Two beautiful women had scowled at him in the last hour. Tanner didn’t like it.

“Not long enough,” she muttered.

Okay, so the pleasantries had been dealt with, time to lay his cards on the table. “Your father sent me to bring you home.”

“I am home.”

Tanner didn’t remember Marie Anna—Parker—as being so stubborn.

“Back to Eliason,” he clarified.

“You’re welcome to go back to Eliason or Amar on the very next plane out of Erie. But I’m staying here.”

“That’s it?” he asked. “I flew all this way to see my fiancée—”

“I am not your fiancée.”

He could hear the finality in her voice, but ignored her comment altogether and continued. “—and all you have to say to me is leave?”

“That’s about the shape of things. And speaking of leaving, I’m on my way out. You don’t mind closing up, Shey?”

“Of course not,” Shey said.

Tanner had almost forgotten about his bike-riding escort.

Almost, but not quite.

He was pretty sure that having met Shey Carlson, no one could ever entirely forget her.

Shey nodded in his direction and asked Marie Anna, “What about him?”

“Would you give him a ride to whatever hotel he’s staying at?” she asked.

“Sure,” Shey said with a shrug.

“Hey, watchdog, are you coming?” Parker asked the dark-haired man who’d been silent till now.

“Uh,” was his terribly articulate response. “Sure thing,” he said. “How about I drive?”

“Sounds good to me since I took the bus.”

“The bus?” Tanner asked. “My fiancée is riding public transportation?”

First Parker sends Shey to collect him at the airport, then she denies their engagement and now she was talking about riding a bus to work?

“You don’t have a fiancée,” Parker replied, “but if you were referring to me, then yes, I take public transportation. My father shut off my access to my trust and I’m broke. So I sold the car.”

“But, but…” he said, not sure what to add.

“Don’t worry about it,” the other man said. “I’ll see that she gets home all right.”

“Home,” Parker said to Tanner. “I’m home and you need to go home. Go back to Amar. There’s nothing for you here in Erie—especially not a fiancée.”

She walked out of the store followed by the dark-haired man.

The door slammed behind them with a certain sense of finality.

“Well, princy, that went well.”

“Tanner. My name is Tanner. If you can’t remember that, and insist on addressing me formally, Your Highness will suffice. Princy does not.”

Shey laughed. “Don’t get your boxers in a knot, princy.”

“Is it over?” came a soft voice from a small archway that led into what had to be the bookstore.

The woman was shorter than Shey. Curvier. Her hair was brown and she wore it in a simple shoulder-length bob.

“It’s over,” Shey said. “Cara, this is Parker’s supposed Prince Charming. I use the word supposed because so far, I haven’t found him all that charming.”

“Tanner,” he said. “Please, call me Tanner, Miss…”

“Phillips. Cara Phillips, but Cara’s fine.”

“Cara,” he said, rolling the R slightly. “It’s a lovely name.”

“Thank you,” she said, smiling at him. “I’m sorry you had to come all this way for nothing, Tanner.”

“It’s not for nothing. Parker will be going home with me.”

“She agreed?” Cara asked, looking surprised.

“No,” Shey snapped.

“But she will eventually,” Tanner added. “She’ll see that our marrying makes sense.”

“Do you love her?” Cara asked.

“Pardon?” Tanner replied.

“It’s a simple question, Your High—Tanner. Do you love Parker?”

“Marie Anna, uh, Parker, and I are extremely well-suited. We both grew up knowing we have a duty to our countries. We were friendly when we were younger. I’m sure we’d be compatible.”

“Compatible is nice,” Cara said, taking a step closer, her expression earnest as she continued, “but love is important. Do you love her?”

“I’ll learn to love her.” Even as Tanner said the words, he hoped they were true. He wouldn’t want his child, their future children, growing up in a loveless home.

“I know that there are any number of things you can learn,” Cara said. “Most things, in fact, you can learn with simply a good mind and a good book. But love? You can’t learn to love someone, you can’t just study them hard enough and discover you love them. There has to be a spark, something to build on. You’d know if you and Parker had it. We’d know if you had it. You don’t.”

Tanner had thought he liked Parker’s friend Cara far more than Shey, but as she voiced his hidden fear, he found he much preferred Shey’s cut-to-the-chase comments to Cara’s softer, more insightful ones.

“How dare you walk in and think you can know what I feel?” he asked, assuming his best royal tone, one that was guaranteed to make people think twice before arguing with him.

But Cara didn’t back down. Didn’t even blink. “I dare because Parker is my friend. I dare because I’ve seen what a compatible relationship looks like. I dare because I may not know you, but I do know that having power and money doesn’t make a person happy, love does. You deserve that as much as Parker does.”

“I—”

She cut him off with a small, soft smile. “Good night, Shey. I was ready to lock up next door when the commotion started. Now that it’s over, I’ll be going. I’ll see you in the morning. And it was nice meeting you, Tanner.”

With that, Cara turned and walked back into the dim bookstore.

“Wow,” Shey said. “I wonder what’s got into her?”

“What do you mean?” Tanner asked.

“I mean, that’s the longest string of words that I’ve ever heard Cara utter in front of a stranger. In front of most people she knows well, for that matter.”

“Lucky me,” Tanner grumbled.

He’d like to totally discount everything the woman had said as nonsense, but he couldn’t. She hadn’t said anything he hadn’t thought himself.

“So now what?” he asked his reluctant hostess.

“Now, I’m going to pour you a cup of coffee and close up the shop. Then I’ll take you to your hotel. Tomorrow, if you’re smart, you’ll be on a plane leaving Erie.”

Tanner didn’t reply. He didn’t know what to say, but he knew that he wasn’t ready to leave Erie just yet.

Shey brought him the coffee, then bustled around the store turning off coffee machines, cleaning out carafes, then gathering up the sandwiches and snacks from the refrigerated case.

She hefted a tray full of items.

“Here, let me help you,” he said, as he started to rise from his seat.

“I don’t need help,” she snapped. “I’m quite capable of handling this on my own.”

“Fine,” he said, sinking back into the seat as she took the tray and disappeared into the back.

Cara’s words played over again in his mind.

She was right, love was an essential ingredient in a marriage, an ingredient his parents’ marriage had been lacking.

Tanner realized that Shey had been gone more than a few minutes. He got up and walked toward the kitchen, inching the door open slowly to see what she was doing.

He expected her to be cleaning or something, instead, she was standing at the back door, the tray of food now nearly empty.

There were people lined up and she was handing out the sandwiches and cookies.

“Leo,” she said, “did you go to the clinic about that cough?”

An old man wearing tattered clothes, said something softly that Tanner couldn’t make out.

“Good,” Shey said. “If you hadn’t, I’d have dragged you there tomorrow. You’d have had to ride on the back of my bike.”

The man laughed at that, the laughter punctuated by a harsh, rasping cough.

“You be sure you go to the shelter tonight. I don’t care how warm it is. You need to sleep inside and take your medicine.”

The old man nodded, then moved aside, replaced by a younger, yet equally disheveled-looking man.

Slowly, Tanner let the door close and went back to his seat.

He might not have known Shey Carlson long, but he knew she’d resent his witnessing her act of kindness.

Nonetheless it intrigued him.

Shey intrigued him.

No matter what she thought, Tanner wasn’t getting on a plane in the morning.

As a matter of fact, he wasn’t going back to the hotel tonight.

He pulled out his cell phone and keyed in Emil’s number.

“Yeah, boss?”

“You all have the night off,” he told his guard.

“What do you mean, night off?” Emil asked, displeasure in his voice.

“I won’t be coming to the hotel tonight.”

“May I ask where you’ll be spending the night?”

“No, you may not.”

Emil laughed. “Fine, I won’t ask. I’m nothing if not discreet. I’ll let Tonio and Peter hit the town. Peter’s dying to introduce himself to the female residents.”

“I imagine he is,” Tanner said with a hint of laughter. Peter was a ladies’ man.

“I’ll be in all night though, boss,” Emil assured him. “If you have any problems, you call. You know your father would have a fit if he found out you were wandering about a strange city without a bodyguard.”