The Prince's Heir

The Prince's Heir
Sally Carleen

THE PRINCE'S BRIDEWhen Prince Stephan Reynard swept into the tiny Texas town to lay claim to his royal nephew, he never dreamed the boy's adoptive mother would prove so resistant–so alluring. Seemed not even a king's ransom could convince the spirited Western beauty to part with the cherished heir she'd once cradled in her loving arms. Seemed, too, that for all the prince's blue-blood wealth and station, Mandy Crawford saw him simply as a man…though the feelings she stirred in him were anything but simple. Because increasingly his mission to produce the precious monarch was turning into a mission to woo–and wed–this uncommon woman….

He made her feel really good...and that was bad. (#u01ac81bc-9d91-595f-a868-c2d39ee67440)Letter to Reader (#u2a836f9c-6429-5bf6-934d-03eaead68fd6)Title Page (#u814406e1-3384-578d-b09f-de3936837542)Dedication (#ua17cbfc2-c3db-5fb6-9f0e-76428a8df199)About the Author (#u893bdc2c-6cc1-54f4-ac1e-b7c698d3e51a)Chapter One (#u0f87a717-c7b6-5861-8ec7-8374b3a3b940)Chapter Two (#u218364c9-59ef-54cd-8c76-fff4be7c6935)Chapter Three (#u5e8e1a46-43eb-56a0-9d4b-55ca7e6cbbe4)Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

He made her feel really good...and that was bad.

Prince Stephan hadn’t even been here twenty-four hours and already Mandy was getting in over her head. She had to put a stop to this attraction before it went any further. She had to remember that he wasn’t just a good-looking man who set off fireworks in her body.

He was a prince—a wealthy, titled foreigner who’d come to steal her son.

Maybe she ought to write it a hundred times, the way she made her students write things over and over so they’d always remember them. Maybe if she never looked into his eyes again or listened to him talk or laugh or got close to him or thought about him...

Even if she could avoid him—and she didn’t see how she could—getting him out of her thoughts was going to be a lot tougher.

Dear Reader,

Silhouette Romance blends classic themes and the challenges of romance in today’s world into a reassuring, fulfilling novel. And this month’s offerings undeniably deliver on that promise!

In Baby, You’re Mine, part of BUNDLES OF JOY, RITA Award-winning author Lindsay Longford tells of a pregnant, penniless widow who finds sanctuary with a sought-after bachelor who’d never thought himself the marrying kind...until now. Duty and passion collide in Sally Carleen’s The Prince’s Heir, when the prince dispatched to claim his nephew falls for the heir’s beautiful adoptive mother. When a single mom desperate to keep her daughter weds an ornery rancher intent on saving his spread, she discovers that McKenna’s Bartered Bride is what she wants to be...forever. Don’t miss this next delightful installment of Sandra Steffen’s BACHELOR GULCH series.

Donna Clayton delivers an emotional story about the bond of sisterhood...and how a career-driven woman learns a valuable lesson about love from the man who’s Her Dream Come True. Carla Cassidy’s MUSTANG, MONTANA, Intimate Moments series crosses into Romance with a classic boss/secretary story that starts with the proposition Wife for a Week, but ends...well, you’ll have to read it to find out! And in Pamela Ingrahm’s debut Romance novel, a millionaire CEO realizes that his temporary assistant—and her adorable toddler—have him yearning to leave his Bachelor Boss days behind.

Enjoy this month’s titles—and keep coming back to Romance, a series guaranteed to touch every woman’s heart.

Mary-Theresa Hussey Senior Editor

Please address questions and book requests to: Silhouette Reader Service U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269 Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont L2A 5X3

The Prince’s Heir

Sally Carleen

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

To Veda and Dee, the greatest in-laws ever.

Thank you for taking me into your family.

SALLY CARLEEN,

the daughter of a cowboy and a mail-order bride, has romance in her genes. Factor in the grandfather in 1890s Louisiana who stole the crowd at political rallies by standing on a flatbed wagon and telling stories, and it’s no surprise she ended up writing romance novels. Sally, a hard-core romantic who expects life and novels to have happy endings, is married to Max Steward, and they live in Missouri with their very large cat, Leo, and their very small dog, Cricket. Her hobbies are drinking Coca-Cola and eating chocolate, especially Ben & Jerry’s Phish Food ice cream. Sally loves to hear from her readers: P.O. Box 6614, Lee’s Summit, MO 64064.

Chapter One

“Mama, Mama, Mama!” The screen door banged open and Joshua charged out as fast as his chubby little legs would carry him. At the same time a large dog, who appeared to be part bassett hound, part collie, part horse and all mongrel, gallumphed around the corner, his deep barking amazingly synchronized with Josh’s excited shouts.

Mandy Crawford dashed to the porch, catching Josh as he started his usual tumble down the three front steps. He laughed as she lifted him into the air and whirled him around. “How’s my boy? Can I have a kiss?”

He puckered up and planted a sloppy one on her cheek, then laughed some more.

The dog danced around them, woofing and waggling. Mandy set her son on one hip and reached down to pet the dog, scratching behind his floppy ear, as well as the one that always stood erect. “Good boy, Prince,” she praised, knowing how desperately he wanted to jump on her but didn’t since she was wearing her go-to-work clothes.

“Guboy,” Josh echoed and leaned over to plant a kiss on the dog’s head.

“Yuck! You’ve got a good heart, kiddo. Lousy judgment but a good heart.”

With Prince temporarily quieted, she carried Josh back inside the house. “How about you? Have you been a good boy? Did you mind your Gamma today?”

“Gamma!” Josh wriggled down onto the faded area rug of the living room, wrapped a hand around Mandy’s finger and launched into an enthusiastic but mostly incoherent monologue as he led her toward the kitchen. Gamma, Nana and An Say See were the only words she recognized—Grandma, Mandy’s mother, Nana, Mandy’s grandmother, and Aunt Stacy, Mandy’s sister. The rest of the words were immaterial, anyway. Family was all that mattered.

“Mom! I’m home!” she called. “Do I smell fried chicken? Dad must be on his way. Is he closing the store early today? He should, as hot as it is.”

“In the kitchen, sweetheart.” Her mother’s voice sounded oddly strained, and Mandy hesitated for a moment, fingers of fear tracing down her spine.

Josh tugged on her finger, and she tried to shrug off her unfounded fears. Ever since Cramps died three years ago, she’d been on edge, looking for trouble everywhere and all the time. She had to stop doing that. Life was good, and it was going to stay that way.

She let Josh lead her through the dining room and into the big old kitchen. Golden light streamed through windows on two sides, as well as through the screen door that led to the backyard. White-painted cabinets reflected and amplified the light, while yellow curtains, tied back at the sides of the windows, fluttered in the breezes created by the attic fan. It was Mandy’s favorite room and the room where their extended family always seemed to congregate.

Standing beside the white enamel gas stove, Mandy’s mother looked up from taking pieces of chicken out of the pan and laying them on a platter. There could be no mistaking the anxiety in her face, and Mandy’s stomach clenched. Was her grandmother ill? Had something happened to the baby her sister-in-law was carrying?

As if drawn by a powerful magnet, her gaze moved to the rectangular oak table that filled one side of the room. A stranger rose from the chair between her sister Stacy and their grandmother.

It was hot in the room, even with the attic fan pulling in shade-cooled air, but the sober expressions on all the faces sent a chill down Mandy’s spine.

“Mandy, we have a guest.” Her mother’s voice was tight, as if it would explode should she relax her grip on it.

Mandy looked more closely at the tall, elegant stranger. He was movie-star handsome with a square jaw and chiseled features. His hair was black like the summer sky just before dawn and his eyes were as blue as that same sky would be an hour later. For a flickering instant those eyes seemed as deep and as filled with tantalizing promises as that morning sky, but it must have been a trick of the bright light. In the next instant his gaze was glacial and distant, more like a January day when the winter stretched behind and ahead with no end in sight

Mandy was both drawn to the man and disturbed by him.

His expression was set in stoic, controlled lines, his posture erect with a bearing that went beyond military—as if it were a part of him, something in his blood. His demeanor fit perfectly with his dark suit, white shirt and conservative tie.

No one dressed like that in late June in Texas.

Mandy’s mother turned off the flame under the empty skillet and ran her hands down the front of her apron. “Mandy, this is Stephan Reynard. Mr. Reynard, my daughter, Mandy.”

Stephan Reynard, Prince of Castile.

Her adopted son’s biological uncle.

The smell of fried chicken became cloying and stuffy. The room blurred, with only Stephan Reynard’s face in blindingly sharp focus.

She picked up Josh and held him tightly against her.

She should have recognized the resemblance to his brother immediately. Their features were similar, and he had the same stiff demeanor. But Lawrence Reynard’s eyes had been gentle and sad, the eyes of a poet and a dreamer. Stephan was obviously neither.

“Hello, Ms. Crawford.” His accent was the same...vaguely British with an underlying hint of something earthier, Scottish or Irish maybe.