Meet Mr. Prince / Once a Cowboy.... Patricia KayЧитать онлайн книгу.
Meet Mr. Prince
Patricia Kay
Once A Cowboy …
Patricia Thayer
MILLS & BOON
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Dear Reader,
I love Cinderella stories, don’t you? From the original story of Cinderella to all the ones that have come after it, they never fail to make me feel good and to put a smile on my face.
Meet Mr. Prince is a Cinderella story, even though Georgie Fairchild is the opposite of the unloved stepsister. Georgie has a fabulous family that includes three beloved sisters, a wonderful job that she loves and a life she considers perfect. She is not looking for Prince Charming. Yet when he comes along, all of Georgie’s ideas are turned upside down and her life changes dramatically.
I had a wonderful time writing this book because I loved Georgie from page one. I loved that she’s so stubborn and sure of herself, that she is so adamant about not wanting to get married or have children. Nothing is more fun than knowing a character is going to have to eat her words.
I hope you enjoy reading Georgie’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Happy reading!
Patricia Kay
About the Author
PATRICIA KAY is a USA TODAY bestselling author of more than forty-eight novels of contemporary romance and women’s fiction. She lives in Houston, Texas. To learn more about her, visit her website at www.patriciakay.com.
This book is dedicated to fellow authors Lois Faye Dyer, Christine Flynn and Allison Leigh. I have loved working with the three of you on this series and look forward to our next adventure together.
Chapter One
Georgianna Hunt Fairchild glared at her mother. “I can’t believe you said that.”
Cornelia Fairchild, as always, remained unruffled. “Darling Georgie. What I can’t believe is that I’ve somehow managed to upset you.”
“I’m not upset. I’m just tired of people trying to interfere in my personal life.”
“People? I’m hardly people.”
Georgie rolled her eyes. “When you start trying to fix me up with every Tom, Dick and Rupert out there, you’ve joined the ranks of people! How many times do I have to tell you and my sisters and Uncle Harry and Alex and every other person who might know my name that I am not interested in getting married. Period. End of story.”
Completely frustrated, Georgie jumped up and began pacing around her mother’s living room. “Do you know that the other day Joanna invited me to dinner, and when I got there, it wasn’t just her and Chick the way I thought it would be, but she’d invited Chick’s brother?”
Joanna Spinelli was Georgie’s former college roommate and her BFF. She was currently having a torrid romance with Chick London, her boss—big mistake, Georgie thought, mixing her work life with her personal life, as nothing good could come of it—and now she seemed to want everyone else to enter the same besotted state.
“What was so wrong with that?” Cornelia asked.
“Look, Chick’s brother is nice enough, but it was obvious that Joanna was trying to fix me up with him! Dammit, I don’t want to be fixed up with anyone, and she knows that.”
“Please don’t swear, Georgie. It’s very unladylike.”
“Sorry. But honestly, Joanna of all people should know better. And then Bobbie called and got on my case.” Bobbie was the youngest of the four Fairchild sisters, and she was practically still on her honeymoon and wild about her new husband. In fact, all of Georgie’s sisters seemed to be wildly in love … or lust, although they would say they had found their soul mates. Georgie had yet to be convinced that such a thing existed.
“Your sisters love you, Georgie,” her mother said softly. “And so does Joanna.”
“I know they do, Mom, but doesn’t that mean they should listen to me once in a while? I listen to them.” Georgie ignored the little voice of her conscience that said she didn’t always listen to them.
Cornelia shook her head sadly. “Oh, all right, Georgie, have it your own way. But just wait. One of these days you’ll be a forty-something woman with no husband, no children and no prospects. Then let’s see how you feel!
“Besides, I was not trying to fix you up,” she added. “Trust me, I’ve learned my lesson in that area. All I said was Josie Wilcox’s nephew is staying with her while he’s in Seattle on business and he’s at loose ends, and from what she’s said about him, he sounds as if you two might have a lot in common.”
“You know, Mom, first of all—no offense against you, but I barely know Josie Wilcox and from what I do know of her, I have no desire to meet her nephew. Second of all, I have a long way to go until I’m forty-something, considering I’ve just barely turned thirty. And last of all, don’t you remember what that survey showed? The one where they interviewed married men, single men, married women and single women?”
Her mother said nothing, simply picked up her mug of tea and sipped. Her thoughtful eyes studied Georgie over the rim of the cup.
“Well, I do,” Georgie said. “That survey found—and I believe it—that the happiest people are, number one, married men, and, number two, single women. And the unhappiest people are married women!”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Georgie. Anyone can prove anything with a survey. Everyone knows that surveys are skewed by all kinds of things. Why, I know any number of happily married women.”
Georgie sighed. “I don’t want to argue with you. Try to understand, okay? I’m happy the way I am. Unlike your other daughters, I really don’t want to get married. I mean, what’s the point if you don’t want children? I know that just goes against everything you believe, but I’m being honest with myself, and I don’t think I’m cut out to be a mother. Can’t you respect that?”
Her mother glanced out the windows of her recently renovated porch, which was now a sunroom and extension of the living room. Georgie’s gaze followed. The view of Puget Sound from the family’s hilltop home in Queen Anne—one of Georgie’s favorite areas of Seattle—was a sight she had never tired of. Today could have been a day in high summer instead of January: The sun was shining and the water sparkled as if dusted by thousands of diamonds. Maybe one day she, too, would have a home like this, but Georgie intended to pay for every last brick with money she earned. Instead of sublimating her goals for a husband’s. Instead of spending her days ferrying spoiled and overindulged kids to soccer games and skating lessons.