Anna Dynowski
to encourage and entertain
Love Never Fails
“A worthy wife is her husband’s joy and
Proverbs 12:4 (Living Bible)
Wanted: Royal Princess
Miracle Bride

An excerpt from

Chapter Four
   A light breeze blew her scent to him. It was fresh, sweet, and so tantalizing. Sneaky. It was sneaky.
   He hated her sneaky scent.
   “My horse.”
   “What does his name mean?”
   Lorenzo had not seen Jana in years. Nothing had changed. She still had eyes the color of emeralds and hair the color of
strawberries and a miniature version of herself in her daughter. A child born out of her promiscuity.
   No, nothing had changed.
   Except he could hardly look at her without losing his breath.
   “White knight.” His voice thickened with a mix of emotions. Unease. Disquiet. Her.
   Something about the way she looked at him. The way her lips curved.
   She had no business looking at him the way she did. She had no business curving her lips at him the way she did. She had no
business scaring him right down to the bone the way she did.
   And something else he hated.
   He hated what looking at her—in her jeans and sleeveless top, her hair fluttering around her face, and with that smile playing
on her mouth—did to his pulse rate. No, he did not like it one little bit.
   “Go to the observation room,” Lorenzo directed, the tenor of his voice husky and rough. “I shall be in the arena shortly with
Cavagliere Bianco.” He did not like the sound of his voice. No, not one little bit.
   Jana touched his arm when he went to turn away. Their eyes met. Undeniable electricity rushed between them.
   “You…you might try smiling.” She dropped her hand like she had been burned. “For the pictures.”
   One tense moment ticked by. Then a second. Then a third. He managed to make his mouth work and grit out, “I do not do
smiles.” Maybe, he found himself thinking with the few brain cells not burnt to a crisp and still operational, barely, he should
make his feet move. Away from this woman. Like now.
   His first mistake was putting his hands on her shoulders to push her away from him. The second was not letting go. And the
third was almost, almost, lowering his mouth to hers. This contact was as electrifying as the one she had initiated seconds
earlier. This contact somehow cracked through the armor he had spent years erecting around his emotions. What was the matter
with him? He did not like this one little bit.
   Let. Go. Of. Her.
   He released her with a jolt. Somehow he convinced his feet to take a step back from her, widening the distance between them.
   Do not feel. Do not want. Do not need.
   Shaken, he stuffed his hands into his pockets, curled those hands into fists.
   Whatever was happening to him had to stop. This something painful and frightening and very, very likable something had to
   Lorenzo spun around and stalked toward the stall barn. A pang of longing hit him, but he quickly quashed it.
Excerpted from Wanted: Royal Princess Miracle Bride by Anna Dynowski                 Copyright 2016 by Anna Dynowski
Excerpted by permission by Write Words, Inc.                                                            All Rights Reserved