Take one tall, dark, and handsome playboy prince, add a splash of feisty, American reporter and mix together until their clothes come off. What do you get? A recipe for delicious disaster with a strong hint of happily ever after. Prince Nicholas thought he had everything he could ever want, but it turns out Rose might be the one thing he needs.
Read an Excerpt
Someone once told me that dancing should be like sex standing up. It always sounded a little over the top, but now I understand. A drop of sweat winds its way down my neck, and I send up a prayer that the boob tape is waterproof. My pulse is racing, half from dancing and the rest from him. For all my reservations, I can’t deny that I’m more attracted to this prince than I should be.
The music slows, and we come back face to face. I catch my breath and fall into a gentle rocking motion in his arms. He chuckles as I lean into him, my head practically resting against his chest. The rumble vibrates all the way down.
“I don’t know what you were so worried about. You’re doing fine. There are princesses who couldn’t keep up with you.”
“Yeah, right.” Hopefully he can’t see me blushing.
“Princess Octavia of Luxembourg, for example. Admittedly, she’s eighty-two, but quite spry for her age. Still, after her hip replacement, she wouldn’t stand a chance.” He says it so deadpan that it takes me a second to realize he’s teasing.
“Smartass.” I step on his toe just to make my point.
He laughs. “And while Princess Anne Marie of Denmark certainly has more enthusiasm, at the tender age of six, she hasn’t had the years to work up to a technique like yours.”
“I should leave you on the dance floor by yourself,” I threaten, clearly not going anywhere. I’d never admit it to him, but in his arms is a comfortable place to be.
“I apologize most profusely. No offense was intended.” Nico swings me in a gentle arc, making me look elegant as my dress flares and my feet skim the floor. “I’d never seek to offend someone so beautiful.”
“Again with the flattery.”
He lowers the arm that’s supporting my back and leans in, dipping me low. Our faces are close enough to kiss, and as soon as that thought enters my head, it’s all I can think about. He smiles and his eyes twinkle. He’s thinking the same thing, I know it.
“And I ask again, is it still flattery if it’s true?”
I thought my feet were going to get me in trouble tonight, not words. Usually conversation is my best weapon, but with him I’m always one step behind. “Was sweet talking part of your royal education as well? I’m sure it comes in handy.”
Instead of pulling me back up, he leans in even closer. His nose brushes mine and he grins. “It was indeed, but the trick is to stay as close to the truth as possible, and with you that is no struggle. Your beauty struck me the first time we met, and tonight, you surpass even my wildest dreams. You are without a doubt the most beautiful woman I’ve ever had the honor of dancing with, and it kills me, brutally kills me, that you won’t even give me a chance.”
I want to brush his words off as meaningless charm, but he sounds like he really believes what he’s saying. And wants me to believe him.
Do I?
Available on Amazon/KU: https://mybook.to/OCHi
