Laura Wright - Charming The Prince

“And you’re a little sneaky, Your Highness,” Fran told him.

Max shot her a sideways glance. “Just a little?”

“Well, I was trying to be gracious. You know, you being the sovereign around here and all.”

“Technically, I’m not the sovereign. That would be my father. But I understand your point.” He stood and walked over to her, amusement glistening in his eyes. “Afraid I might lock you up in a dungeon?”

Fran tipped her chin up. “I’m not afraid of anything, Your Highness. Even being locked up all alone—”

“Who said anything about alone?” His grin went wide.

Awareness moved through her like warm molasses. Why, oh why, did she have to turn to mush when this man was near? It just wasn’t fair. She could control every aspect of her life, every emotion—every need. But here in Fantasyland with Prince Foxy, she was reduced to…well, female.

Dear Reader,

Revel in the month with a special day devoted to L-O-V-E by enjoying six passionate, powerful and provocative romances from Silhouette Desire.

Learn the secret of the Barone family’s Valentine’s Day curse, in Sleeping Beauty’s Billionaire (#1489) by Caroline Cross, the second of twelve titles in the continuity series DYNASTIES: THE BARONES—the saga of an elite clan, caught in a web of danger, deceit…and desire.

In Kiss Me, Cowboy! (#1490) by Maureen Child, a delicious baker feeds the desire of a marriage-wary rancher. And passion flares when a detective and a socialite undertake a cross–country quest, in That Blackhawk Bride (#1491), the most recent installment of Barbara McCauley’s popular SECRETS! miniseries.

A no-nonsense vet captures the attention of a royal bent on seduction, in Charming the Prince (#1492), the newest “fiery tale” by Laura Wright. In Meagan McKinney’s latest MATCHED IN MONTANA title, Plain Jane & the Hotshot (#1493), a shy music teacher and a daredevil fireman make perfect harmony. And a California businessman finds himself longing for his girl Friday every day of the week, in At the Tycoon’s Command (#1494) by Shawna Delacorte.

Celebrate Valentine’s Day by reading all six of the steamy new love stories from Silhouette Desire this month.

Enjoy!

Joan Marlow Golan

Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire

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has spent most of her life immersed in the world of acting, singing and competitive ballroom dancing. But when she started writing romance, she knew she’d found the true desire of her heart! Although born and raised in Minneapolis, Laura has also lived in New York City, Milwaukee and Columbus, Ohio. Currently, she is happy to have set down her bags and made Los Angeles her home. And a blissful home it is—one that she shares with her theater production manager husband, Daniel, and three spoiled dogs. During those few hours of downtime from her beloved writing, Laura enjoys going to art galleries and movies, cooking for her hubby, walking in the woods, lazing around lakes, puttering in the kitchen and frolicking with her animals. Laura would love to hear from you. You can write to her at P.O. Box 5811 Sherman Oaks, CA 91413 or e-mail her at laurawright@laurawright.com.

To my own Prince Charming, Daniel.

You make life a fairy tale for me every day.

To my new friends, and wonderful authors,

Kristi Gold and Bronwyn Jameson. You guys are the best. And to Lois J. Thomasson of Fleetwind

Wolfhounds. Thank you for helping me to understand the glorious wolfhound. I’m still waiting for my puppy!

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Francesca Charming didn’t believe in fairy tales, despite her whimsical surname. But with real-life royal cobblestones under her feet, the purple-and-gold Llandaron flag snapping crisply in the warm morning wind and the ancient fortress standing regally before her, a girl could change her mind.

The seven-story castle of white stone and polished elegance sat high on a bluff overlooking the Atlantic coastline. Rows of creamy-marble steps crept up, up, until they reached a massive wooden portcullis. Hundreds of windows peeked out at Fran through their frames of slender evergreen climbers, while on both ends of the amazing dwelling, two white towers extended their pepper-pot necks toward an azure sky.

And all around her, the scents of heather and salt-water carried on the breeze slowly lulling her from all thoughts of business, of why she’d come to—

“Welcome to Llandaron, miss.”

Fran jumped at the spirited burr, whirled around. A gardener pruning a wedge of fragrant honeysuckle gave her a wink. “First time to the castle, eh? Surely takes the breath away, doesn’t it?”

The magic from a moment ago vanished and reality set in. Indulging in a child’s fantasy was not why Fran had come to Llandaron. She’d come to the small island nation to work—to earn the money that would finally put the wheels of a lifelong dream in motion. And Fran’s dream, her one and only goal, was to open a Los Angeles-based animal-surgery facility.

Gripping her veterinary bag tightly to her side, she smiled at the gardener and said in her most professional tone, “Yes, I’m Dr. Charming. I just arrived this morning. I’m looking for the stables. Am I going the right way?”

The gardener clipped her a nod. “Just keep following the path you’re on and you’ll run straight into it. Make sure to ask for Charlie when you get down there. He runs things.” The man turned away to tend to a young fir tree. “He’ll show you round.”

“Thank you.” Fran turned and continued down the stone path, her traitorous gaze once again lapping up every detail she encountered.

All the books she’d read on Llandaron boasted of its “lush, wild beauty in the spring.” But such a description didn’t do the land justice. As she walked through a manicured garden that sloped gently toward the grand-looking stables, she took in the impossibly green lawns in the distance, small curves of hill blooming scads of tiny red flowers, and chunks of purple heather that dwelled amongst groomed shrubbery and ancient trees.

Only a hundred miles from Cornwall, England, Llandaron seemed a world away.

Gripping her black bag more tightly, Fran walked into the streamlined stables with what she hoped was an air of confidence. Horses nickered at her from their exceptionally clean stalls, and she allowed herself the time to give each a soft rub on their blazes before she marched down a lengthy hallway looking for a man called Charlie.

But when she came to the last stall, she stopped dead in her tracks. As she stared at the amazing sight before her, her knees went butter soft, and her throat desert dry as her pulse kicked and punched in her veins.