âI was under the impression that youarenât pleased about coming here.â
Delfyneâs exact words had been that she would rather rot in the royal dungeon than spend a summer on a secluded cattle ranch. âI hadnât fully researched the situation at the time,â she said pleasantly. âI hadnât examined the upside of the location. Now I have.â
Owen gave a terse nod. He looked down at her hand. âIâm rusty on my royal etiquette. Do I shake your hand, or kiss it?â
His deep voice rumbled, and something primal and earthy and terribly unnerving simmered through Delfyne. She lowered her hand. âI think weâll settle for hello for now.â This man, after all, was her jailer, even if he was a reluctant one. She could not and would not feel an attraction for him. He was her brotherâs friend. He was a commoner. And she was soon to marry.
Still, despite the fact that she should feel nothing for him, she and Owen Michaels were going to be stuck together for a while. She glanced into his flinty, wary eyes. Maybe he had limits, and if she pushed them heâd send her away. She wondered just what Owen Michaelsâs limits might be.
She would soon find out.
Myrna Mackenzie is a self-proclaimed âstudent of all things that concern women and their relationshipsâ. An award-winning author of over thirty novels, Myrna was born in a small town in Dunklin County, Missouri, grew up just outside Chicago, and now divides her time between two lake areas, both very different and both very beautiful. She loves coffee, hiking, cruising the internet for interesting websites, and attempting gardening, cooking and knitting. Readers (and other potential gardeners, cooks, knitters, writers, etcâ¦) can visit Myrna online at www.myrnamackenzie.com, or write to her at PO Box 225, La Grange, IL 60525, USA.
Dear Reader
My first thought when I decided to write this book was How incredibly awesome to be able to marry two of myfavourite fantasies into one book! Because as a child (and way past the time when I could be called a child), I was in love with stories of princes and princesses.
I read them allâfrom those with happily-ever-after endings to those with sad endings, the fairy tale stories and the real ones. There was just something about a world so different from my own that enthralled me. It was a world of privilege, but also one closed off from so many of the ordinary pleasures most of us know on a day-to-day basis.
Then, when I grew up and visited the American West for the first time, I fell in love with that part of the country. Itâs big, beautiful, rugged and still untamed. There are gorgeous mountains and there are ranchersâhardworking rough, tough guys who never know what hand theyâll be dealt from day to day.
Soâ¦a princess and a cowboy? Two people whose worlds would ordinarily never intersectâone tied to the crown and one tied to the landâwho could never marry? What a challenge! What fun! I had to write Delfyne and Owenâs story. It begins something (but not exactly) like this:
There once was a princess who was rather disobedient,so her family sent her off to a part of the world where shecouldnât get into troubleâ¦or so they thoughtâ¦
This book is for those of us who have imaginary princess centres. You know who you areâand, yes, if you still like to play dress-up, even though youâre a grown-up, you are a princess at heart.
I hope you enjoy the story!
Best wishes
Myrna Mackenzie
CHAPTER ONE
âOH MAN. There are good ideas and bad ideas, and believe me, sending your sister here so that I can chaperone her is an unbelievably bad idea.â Owen Michaels leaned back in his chair and propped his boot-clad feet up on his desk.
âNonsense, Owen, itâs a master plan,â the voice on the other end of the line said.
Owen glanced out the window at miles of empty space. Beautiful stuff, if solitude was what you craved. He did. Most people didnât. No denying that. âYou been hitting the cognac, Dré? Orâ¦it has been a long time since youâve been to Montana. Maybe youâve forgotten that while I may be a wealthy man, the Second Chance is a working ranch. Itâs pretty isolated. Your sisterâs a princess. This isnât what sheâs used to.â
Oh no, Owen thought. A woman like that is usedto a heck of a lot more. She would crave culture and the excitement of being at the hot, happening center of things. Sheâd expect to take part in events that involved the cream of society. He already knew too much about women like that. Women didnât transplant well here, as evidenced by his mother, who had run away, and his wife, who had divorced him afterâ
Owen swore beneath his breath, halting the painful thought. The point was that everything he knew told him that bringing a princess here was a recipe for doom and disaster. âNope, buddy. What youâre askingâ¦itâs just not happening. You canât send her here.â
âOwen, stop. Letâs talk. Or Iâll talk. You listen. This plan is perfect. Absolutely perfect,â Owenâs former college roommate said, excitement evident in his voice. âAnd in answer to your question, Iâve never been more serious, and no, I havenât been drinking even a little. At least, not since I came up with this solution. Before that, I was going mad trying to figure out what to do with Delfyne.â