Dirty Prince

DIRTY PRINCE THE HOCKEY ROYALS BOOK 3 A.J. WYNTER CONTENTS Also by A.J. Wynter 1. Hannah 2. Liam 3. Hannah 4. Hannah 5. Liam 6. Liam 7. Hannah 8. Liam 9. Hannah 10. Liam 11. Hannah 12. Liam 13. Hannah 14. Liam 15. Hannah 16. Liam 17. Hannah 18. Liam 19. Hannah 20. Liam 21. Hannah 22. Liam 23. Hannah 24. Liam 25. Hannah 26. Liam 27. Hannah Epilogue Dear Reader Not a Player Jessie Kane Also by A.J. Wynter Connect with A.J Copyright 2023 by AJ Wynter - All rights reserved. Editor: Jennifer Nentwig Cover Design: Najla Qamber Designs In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved. Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher. This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are a product of the author's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. The author does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for third party websites or their content. All sexual acts within the book are consensual and the characters are 18+. Created with Vellum ALSO BY A.J. WYNTER Windswan Lake Mine for the Summer (Summer 2023) Hockey Royal Series Puck King Ice Queen Dirty Prince Laketown Hockey Series Not a Player Hating the Rookie The Coach Next Door Wingmen are a Girl’s Best Friend The Captain’s Secret Baby The Defenseman’s Second Chance Falling for the Legend Chance Rapids Series Second Chances One More Chance Accidental Chances A Secret Chance Reckless Chances Titan Billionaire Brothers For Richer, For Poorer, Book 1 For Richer, For Poorer, Book 2 Her First Time Series The Biker’s Virgin The Mountain Man’s Virgin The Rancher’s Virgin * * * ABOUT DIRTY PRINCE In hockey, dirty is a term used to describe an outstanding deke. You could say that my father pulled the biggest dirty of all. I just found out that I am the secret love child of a hockey titan. He didn’t want to have anything to do with me, and my new half sister is trying to keep it a secret. If that sounds complicated, it gets way worse. Like, soap opera on steroids worse… * * * ONE HANNAH My fingers tugged hard, but the tags that I still hadn’t removed from the bridesmaid dress were firmly stuck in the zipper of the garment bag. “Are you going to take those off?” My best friend, Georgia, was lounging on my bed, the glass of wine in her hand sloshing precariously over it. “Are you going to spill that cabernet on my duvet?” I raised my eyebrows at her and she set the glass on my nightstand. I sighed, slumping onto the bed with the jammed dress bag crumpled on my lap. “No, I still haven’t decided if I’m going to this stupid wedding yet. I can’t believe that I’m even considering it.” Georgia groaned and took the garment bag from my hand. She tugged at the tags, which were firmly locked in the teeth of the zipper. “It’s a free trip to America.” She gave a half-hearted tug at the tag. “A free first-class trip to America…” she emphasized, “and you’re a broke student.” “I’m not totally broke.” I had a little bit of savings from my part time job at the café tucked under the mattress. My scholarship took care of tuition and books, but I still had to pay for my room and board. My finances were always tight, but somehow, I managed. For all the crap my mom had put me through growing up, penny pinching was one of the few positive things I’d learned from her. Her biggest lesson had always been to look pretty – so you can marry rich. She was taking a page out of her own rule book, because that’s exactly what she was doing, marrying some rich old dude for his money. Georgia disappeared from my room. “Where are you going?” I asked as I tried to zip shut my bulging suitcase. A drawer in the kitchen squeaked as it opened. “I’m cutting off these damn tags.” I hopped to my feet and ran to stop her, but it was too late. The scissors snipped shut as I reached the communal kitchen that Georgia and I shared with four other students. I picked them up off the ground, the amount on the tag still making me want to throw up. The dress had cost four hundred pounds. “Georgia.” I gasped. “Oh, come on Hannah, your mom paid for it and it looks insanely good on you. Even if you decide not to go to her wedding, you should keep it.” I sighed and let the fabric slip through my fingers. It was an emerald green silk slip dress with a deep V-neck. Georgia was right. It was a gorgeous dress, the nicest one I’d tried on in my entire life. “If I accept this dress, I…” My voice trailed off. I hadn’t spoken with my mother in years until out of the blue she’d called to beg me to come to her wedding. “You’re not forgiving her if you accept it, Vee.” Georgia used my nickname. Her eyes were soft as she took the tags from my fingers and slipped them into the trash. Or, as she would’ve called it, the bin. I was still getting used to the differences between my American English and her British version. Every time she referred to it as the Queen’s English, I rolled my eyes – and not subtly. “What if she’s changed?” Georgia asked. She grabbed a new bottle of wine from the cupboard and