Melissa McClone - Plain Jane's Prince Charming

Dear Reader,

As I began work on Plain Jane’s Prince Charming, I couldn’t stop thinking about a little girl in my son’s preschool class who had been diagnosed with acute lymphoblastic leukemia (ALL). While her family navigated their way through an overwhelming new world of oncology, treatment protocols and hospitals, the children in the preschool made a hand-print quilt for their classmate and waited for her return. Friends sought ways to help—bringing meals, praying and helping with her sister, who was in kindergarten.

Thankfully, her leukemia went into remission and she returned to preschool, but her chemotherapy treatments continued. Eager to help others, her parents organized a local benefit for The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society.

I was so moved by the courage of this family, and the love and support that flowed from their friends and the community, that they all wove their way into the backdrop of this story. Leukemia is a horrible disease, but it’s not without hope. And that’s what I wanted to show in this romance—hope, heart and a happily-ever-after.

Melissa McClone

P.S. If you would like to learn more about ALL, or how you can help, please visit The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society Web site at www.leukemia-lymphoma.org

MELISSA MCCLONE

With a degree in mechanical engineering from Stanford University, the last thing Melissa McClone ever thought she would be doing was writing romance novels. But analyzing engines for a major U.S. airline just couldn’t compete with her “happily-ever-afters.”

When she isn’t writing, caring for her three young children or doing laundry, Melissa loves to curl up on the couch with a cup of tea, her cats and a good book. She enjoys watching home decorating shows to get ideas for her house—a 1939 cottage that is slowly being renovated. Melissa lives in Lake Oswego, Oregon, with her own real-life hero husband, two daughters, a son, two lovable but oh-so-spoiled indoor cats and a no-longer-stray outdoor kitty that decided to call the garage home. Melissa loves to hear from her readers. You can write to her at P.O. Box 63, Lake Oswego, OR 97034, U.S.A.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Melissa McClone on Plain Jane’s Prince Charming:

“I raided my own wardrobe to dress my heroine Jane. Her red field coat, black long-sleeved T-shirt and tan corduroy pants came from my closet. I used to wear purple wire-rimmed eyeglasses, too, until one of my children broke the frames. Let’s hope Jane has better luck with hers!”

For Taylor Jackson

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

EPILOGUE

“MR. RYDER.” Standing in the foyer of Cyberworx’s state-of-the-art meeting facility, Jane Dawson couldn’t believe how steady her voice sounded when inside she felt like a coffee bean being ground into tiny bits. Still she managed to smile at the gray-haired businessman. “I would like to speak with you. For a minute. That is if you have time. Please.”

Jane winced.

So much for being smooth and collected, but this was different from speaking with customers while she managed the Hearth, a trendy coffee house in downtown Portland, Oregon. That job required patience, a smile and making sure the staff at the counter got the orders right, not cultured eloquence and grace.

“You want to speak to me?” In spite of his tailored suit, he looked more like a doting grandfather than the successful CEO of a multinational hi-tech company. “Chase…Ryder?”

He sounded surprised.

Of course, he did. People like Jane, college drop-outs who brewed coffee all day, didn’t usually approach people like him. And normally she wouldn’t. Especially when picking up after a catering job. On her day off.

But this wasn’t a normal situation.

She’d jumped at the chance to set up and pick up the breakfast meeting buffet for thirty guests at the corporate headquarters though catering jobs weren’t her usual responsibility. Her boss, Zoe, had offered her the opportunity to meet Chase Ryder, and Jane wasn’t going to blow it.

Act like you know what you’re doing. Saying. And think before you open your mouth. Zoe’s advice echoed in Jane’s head. She raised her chin. “Yes, I would, Mr. Ryder.”

His grin deepened the lines around his mouth and eyes. “I’m more than happy to speak with you, miss.”

Jane hadn’t felt this light, this hopeful in…well, years.

“Unfortunately,” he continued, “I’m not Chase Ryder.”

Her heart plummeted to her feet, as if two fifty-pound bags of Sumatra Gayo Mountain coffee beans had been dumped on each of her shoulders.

Not Chase Ryder.

How could she have made such a big mistake? Her assistant manager, Ally, had told Jane she couldn’t miss the Cyberworx’s head honcho. Tall, handsome and surrounded by people. She’d assumed the distinguished looking man had to be him. She’d assumed wrong.

The man stared at her. “Are you okay?”

No, she wasn’t okay. Jane needed Chase Ryder. She needed…a miracle. Or the fundraising benefit she wanted to throw was never going to happen.

“Miss?”

Whatever you do, do not cause a scene. Remembering Zoe’s final words made Jane force a smile. She wasn’t about to risk her job or future catering jobs for the Hearth over this.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Thank you for your time.”

“No, thank you.” The man chuckled. “You made my day thinking I was Chase.”

As the man sauntered away with a spring to his step, her shoulders slumped. She was in over her head and not qualified to do this, but she couldn’t get discouraged. She couldn’t give up. She still had to try.

For Emma. For sweet, four-year-old Emma who loved to play with baby dolls and still had months of treatment left, Jane wouldn’t give up. Maybe she could still find Chase Ryder. It was only ten o’clock in the morning. And if not…

She would write more letters and make additional phone calls. Somehow she would find sponsors for the fundraiser. Somehow she would help Emma’s mother, Michelle, tackle the mounting medical bills. Somehow Jane would pull this off.

If only she knew how.

Jane shuffled her way to the buffet table to pack up the equipment. Less than a dozen of the muffins, scones, cinnamon rolls and pastries remained on the trays, and she transferred them to a smaller plate to leave. All of the fruit cups were gone, except…

Oh, no.

One had spilled on the tile floor. Pieces of cantaloupe, grapes and pineapple had been squished, kicked and trampled on. The building’s janitorial staff cleaned after events, but Jane couldn’t leave a mess like this. She grabbed a towel near one of the coffee air pots, kneeled on the floor and wiped the sticky goo.

Nothing like a bit of fruit roadkill to finish off a lousy morning. She reached for a smushed strawberry. At least her day couldn’t get much worse.

“Excuse me,” a male voice said.

Still kneeling, Jane took in the shoes first. The black running shoes needed new laces, but looked comfortable. Just like his faded blue jeans. Her gaze traveled up the length of his calves to his thighs to his, um…

Her cheeks burned.

“You wanted to speak with me?” he asked.

What was she doing? She’d come to provide service. To beg a favor. Not stare at his…Jane jumped up. “I’m Ja…”