Dancing with a Prince (Matchmakers in Time Book 3)

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by Kit Morgan




  Dancing with a Prince

  (Matchmakers in Time, Book Three)

  Kit Morgan

  Geralyn Beauchamp

  ANGEL CREEK PRESS

  Dancing with a Prince

  (Matchmakers in Time, Book Three)

  by Kit Morgan

  (With a little help from Geralyn Beauchamp)

  © 2020 Kit Morgan

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without permission in writing from the publisher. All characters are fictional. Any resemblances to actual people or livestock are purely coincidental.

  Cover design by Angel Creek Press and EDH Designs

  License Note

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Las Vegas, Nevada, present day …

  “You want to do what?!”

  Mitzi Fine rolled her eyes. She knew her father John would react this way. Still, it didn’t lessen the sting. “Dad, I’ve already passed the preliminary tests to get into the academy.”

  He looked her up and down. “All 110 pounds of you?”

  She crossed her arms. “Yes, Dad.”

  He went to his La-Z-Boy and sat. “Sit down, Mitz.” He patted the arm of the sofa next to his chair.

  She let her arms fall and sat on the sofa. It was uncomfortable, and she wondered when she could talk him into getting a new one.

  “Now, I know you think becoming a cop is following in your old man’s footsteps and all that, but frankly …”

  “Dad, we’ve had this conversation a thousand times.”

  “Hardly,” he shot back. He sighed, ran a hand through his graying hair and looked her in the eye. “I know you think you can do it, but look at you. You’re barely five feet tall, it’s a zoo out there. You’d get eaten alive, Mitz.”

  Her jaw tightened. “You know I’m good with a gun.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course you are – I taught you myself.”

  “And I’m almost a black belt in judo.”

  He held up a hand. “Mitz, it’s not about defending yourself. I know you can. It’s other things.”

  “Like what?”

  He motioned to her body. “Your size invites trouble. Men will think they can overpower you, and in some cases will.”

  “That goes with the territory. That’s why all the self-defense training.”

  “But that’s just it. Once they figure out you can fight, they’ll just shoot you and be done with it.”

  “That’s part of the job, Dad. You of all people know that.”

  He sighed again, looked her in the eyes and let her have it. “Mitz, I’m sorry, but I don’t think you have what it takes to be a cop.”

  She knew he’d say that before the conversation got started. Still, it stung. “I’m sorry you don’t think that. But I can’t sit behind a desk, Dad. I’m not made for it. I can’t see myself as a housewife either. For one, I’d have to get married, and it’s not like that’ll happen anytime soon.”

  He reached for the TV remote. “Then what will you do?”

  She left the sofa. “The only thing I can do while I’m waiting for academy to start.” She grinned. “I got a job as a security guard at the Empire Casino.”

  He came out of his chair. “What! Are you out of your mind?”

  “Nope.” She turned and headed out of the room. “In fact, I think I finally found it.” She reached the hall before he could pull himself together enough to come after her, grabbed her keys from a hook near the front door, snagged her purse off the table beneath it and headed out. By the time her father could glare at her through the living room window, she was already backing out of the driveway. She had to pick up her uniform for her new job and a few other things.

  She drove through downtown Vegas, practicing her observational skills every time she hit a red light. “Tourist, tourist, local, tourist, tour … no. Oh, wow, drug deal going down!”

  The light turned green and the car behind her honked. “Aw, man.” She glanced at the two men she saw discreetly exchanging something a moment before, then got the car moving.

  Oh, well – she’d have plenty of criminals to bust once she became part of the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department. Her father was retiring this year. By the time she finished academy and got hired on, he’d be long gone. Good – she wasn’t sure she could work for her dad, didn’t want her fellow officers thinking she was getting any sort of favoritism, didn’t want him either coming down hard on her or ignoring her completely. She didn’t want either extreme.

  She picked up her two uniforms, got a pair of gloves she needed (the last item for her duty belt) and headed back to the west side of town. But she didn’t want to go home yet, knowing that when she did, her dad would bombard her with questions about her new job. Why did she quit her job as a barista? What put it into her head to become an armed guard? When did she get the time to take the classes to get the licensing? And on and on.

  Would he be mad when he found out she’d been working on this for months? Oh, yeah. He thought she’d start taking more classes in the fall, get a desk job somewhere as a glorified secretary, find a husband, settle down … she made a face. “Yuck.” Settling down was the last thing she wanted to do. She wanted action, adventure, and most of all to make a difference.

  For lack of a better idea, she drove to Java King, where she currently worked. She could do with an iced mocha. It was already 90 degrees out at barely eleven in the morning, and the weather report said it would reach 106.

  She parked, went inside and smiled at Albert her coworker. “What’s up, Al?”

  Albert, a tall skinny college senior with glasses too big for his face, smiled at her. “Mitzi, what are you doing here? It’s your day off.”

  She glanced around the shop. There were only a few patrons, including a guy who looked like he was related to Albert. “Is that your dad?”

  “No, he’s a customer. My dad doesn’t look anything like that. He’s balding, for one”

  Mitzi frowned. So much for her powers of observation. She glanced at the man again. He was lanky like Al, mid-to-late thirties with a full head of prematurely gray hair and no glasses. Okay, not like Albert other than the build. She must be slipping. “All right, two points for you.”

  He pulled out a notepad he kept in his apron pocket and ma
rked it down. “Hey, I’m catching up.” He showed it to her.

  “I’m still ahead by six.” She glanced at the menu on the wall behind him. “How about a large white chocolate mocha, iced?”

  “You got it.” He turned to make her drink. “So when do you start your new job?” He looked at her over one shoulder. “Have you told your dad yet?”

  “This morning. He’s not happy.”

  He scooped ice into a plastic cup. “What did he do?”

  “Just a short lecture. I left before it could turn into a big one.”

  “He didn’t come after you?”

  “No. Which means he’s really mad.” She spotted a splotch of something on her blue T-shirt. “Aw, man …” She wiped at it with her fingers.

  Albert busied himself with the espresso machine as more customers came into the shop. A handsome – make that gorgeous – bodybuilder with an equally attractive but much smaller woman joined her at the counter. She hoped the chocolate or whatever she tried wiping off wasn’t too noticeable.

  “Dallan,” the woman said. “What do you want?”

  “No what I had last time we were in one of these places,” he said in a Scottish accent. “Too sweet.”

  She perused the menu. “All right, let me see …”

  “Have you tried an iced protein cold brew?” Mitzi asked. She knew a lot of the weightlifter types liked those. “No sugar.”

  “Oh, that sounds nice,” the woman said. “How about it, Dallan?”

  “Hmm,” he mused. “Iced?”

  Mitzi did her best not to laugh. Then again, maybe they didn’t have coffee places like this in Scotland. They must be tourists. “Yes, sir, it’s served cold. Like a smoothie.”

  Albert set Mitzi’s drink on the counter. “Here you go.” He smiled at the woman. “What can I get you?”

  “Give us a large iced protein cold brew, and I’ll have …” She looked at Mitzi’s drink. “Can I ask what that is?”

  “She ordered a large iced white chocolate mocha,” Albert volunteered.

  “Oh, that does sound good. I’ll have one of those.”

  Albert rang them up, and the woman paid with a debit card. “Coming right up,” Albert said, setting to work.

  “It’s certainly hot out there.” The woman fanned herself.

  “Typical for this time of year,” said Mitzi. “I’m surprised it’ll only be 106 today.”

  The woman nodded unhappily. “I’ve heard it can get up to 120 here.”

  “Och, I hope not,” the Scot said in alarm.

  Mitzi did a quick study of him. He had to be at least 6’5”, broad and muscular – say, 280 pounds and none of it fat. His hair was thick, black and reached his shoulders – too long to be military, though he had that air of command about him. He wore a white polo, khaki shorts and high-end tennis shoes. His green eyes were piercing. Were it not for the un-American accent, she’d think he was a member of the NFL’s Raiders preparing for the move from Oakland. Not her type, but still worth looking at.

  She moved away from the counter to give the couple room. She bet she could find out what his background was. Maybe he was ex-military, working as a bouncer for a local club or security for a casino. Not that it mattered, except that she’d be eight points ahead of Albert in their observation game if she guessed before he could.

  “It does get that hot around here,” Albert said, joining their conversation. “But at least it’s a dry heat.” So yes, he was trying to find out about them too. “Is this your first trip to Vegas?”

  “Och, aye,” the Scot said. “Quite the, ah … weel …”

  “Place?” Mitzi finished.

  “That’s being polite about it,” the Scot said.

  “Are you here to gamble?” Albert asked. “Have any luck on the Strip?” He started up the blender.

  “We haven’t been there yet,” the woman said, glancing at the man. Was he her husband, her boyfriend? They clearly weren’t siblings or father and daughter. Mitzi noticed they wore matching rings. Husband, then.

  “A lot of people come here for vacations,” Mitzi noted. “There’s more to do than just gamble.”

  “I’m afraid we’re here on business, lass.”

  Mitzi smiled and nodded. What was his name again – Dallan? “Still, if you have time, there’s lots to see.”

  “We plan to do a few things,” the woman smiled.

  Mitzi smiled back. “If you’ve never been here, there are some things you’ll want to know about the city. Places you’d want to avoid.”

  “Oh?” the woman said.

  Mitzi nodded. Time to put Albert in his place. “I’m Mitzi.” She offered her hand.

  The woman shook it. “Shona MacDonald, and this is my husband Dallan. We were interested in hiking in Red Rock Canyon.”

  “That’s fun, but go early in the morning.” Albert set their drinks on the counter. “Are you staying someplace with a gym?” He glanced at Mitzi and back. He was getting down to business quicker than her this time around. She narrowed her eyes at him, but he ignored it. “If you’re the working-out type, you can get a guest pass at a couple of places in town. There’s the gym where all the cops and military types work out. Are you into the major stuff?” He looked Dallan over. “You look like you don’t mess around.”

  Rats – he’d guessed military too! Now it was a race to see who got the answer first. She smiled at the couple. “My dad’s a police captain here – he likes to work out at Sam’s Gym. It’s private, clean and no one will bother you there.”

  The couple exchanged a quick look, then glanced around before spotting the thin man Mitzi thought might be related to Albert. The man looked up from the paper he was reading, then ignored them.

  “Er, there are other places to hike,” Albert said, going for the save. “Outside Lake Las Vegas in Henderson …”

  “We’re only interested in Red Rock Canyon for now,” Shona said. “And if we have time, maybe see a show.”

  “Oh?” Mitzi said. “Which show?”

  “We haven’t decided yet.” Shona stuck straws into their drinks, then handed the cold brew to Dallan, who looked at it as if it were dangerous. “Go ahead, try it,” his wife urged. “It won’t bite you.”

  “Don’t drink it too fast, or you’ll get a brain freeze,” Albert warned.

  The Scot’s eyebrows rose. “A what?”

  “He’s not a big coffee drinker, in case you couldn’t tell,” Shona said. “Just try it, Dallan. I’m sure you’ll like it.”

  Mitzi and Albert watched him put the straw into his mouth and take a cautious sip. “Well?” Mitzi said.

  “Mmm, ‘tis good. I like this.” He took another sip, this one longer, then another.

  Albert cringed. “Oh, I wouldn’t do that if I were …”

  “Och, ow!” Dallan shook his head, put a hand to his temple and made a horrible face.

  The thin man with the paper snorted in amusement, then started to cough. Shona glared at him. Mitzi understood, but it was fun seeing the big hulk cringe and make faces.

  Dallan hunched his shoulders and shook his head again. “Och, was that what ye were talking about?”

  “Yeah,” Albert said. “Brain freeze.”

  Shona cringed now. “Drink it slow, a little sip at a time.”

  Dallan held up his drink worriedly. “Ye could use this for a torture device, Flower. I wonder if Melvale’s ever had one?”

  She rolled her eyes as she guided him to a table. They sat and spoke quietly to one another.

  Albert cleared his throat as Mitzi leaned against the counter, her back to him. “You have no points and neither do I,” she said over her shoulder.

  “Here on business, eh?” Albert whispered. “I say he’s a bodyguard.”

  “What?” she whispered back, turning to him. “No way. There’d have to be a convention in town or something.”

  “No, just one high roller or a movie star on vacation.”

  “I doubt the movie star would let him bring
his wife. Bouncer?” she suggested.

  “Maybe.” Albert leaned over the counter. “What about her?”

  “Too short to be a fashion model,” she mused. “They’re not here on vacation, but they like to hike and both have rock-hard bodies … workout models?”

  “No way,” Albert argued. “Neither one acts vain enough.”

  Mitzi glanced at the couple, saw they were looking right at her, and quickly turned away. “I have to go.”

  Albert glanced at the customers and back. “So soon?”

  “Yeah, gotta go home and face the music.”

  “Will you try to keep working here?”

  “If I can, for a while. Once academy starts, I’ll have to stick with the security job – no more daytime work for me.”

  “I can’t believe you’re going to be a security guard.”

  She looked him in the eyes. “Go ahead, say what you really think.”

  He shrugged helplessly. “What?”

  “C’mon, Albert, I know you think exactly what my dad thinks.”

  “Your mom will be upset.”

  “I’d be surprised if my mom cares.”

  Albert hung his head. “I still think she’ll be ticked.”

  Mitzi scoffed. “I doubt it. I’d been working here for almost a year before she asked how I liked it. She made it sound like I just got the job.”

  “Oh, yeah, I remember that.” He took a straw from a container and played with the end of the wrapper.

  Mitzi grabbed it and put it back. “I’m going – sooner I get it over with, the better.” She turned just as the thin guy left his table and headed for the door. She took one last look at the handsome couple, who were almost done with their drinks, then left. “Thanks,” she said as Mr. Thin held the door open for her.

 

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