If your Prince Charming seems too good to be true…
Fairy-tale author Callista Larson is addicted to bad boys. It doesn’t matter that every good-looking, sweet-talking one of them has screwed her over. The second she sees that dangerous smile and troubled gaze, she’s hooked. Until now. Her engagement to a genuinely kind, mature man (who also happens to be a handsome, wealthy prince) is the perfect opportunity to kick her unhealthy habit and find her happily ever after.
…you might have to write your own happily ever after.
Then Calli finds out her perfect prince is gay and his country is on the verge of civil war. Goodbye happily ever after. Hello running for her life. At least she’s not alone. Her bad-boy bodyguard—former Marine Owen McCadden—is determined to keep her safe. Years of heartbreak tell her not to fall for his smoldering, you’re-the-only-one-who-can-heal-my-pain gaze, but it’s hard to ignore the way he puts his life on the line to protect her. Calli doesn’t want to make another big mistake. But if she can stop the civil war and show Owen she wants to be his partner, not his responsibility, this bad boy might be the key to her own happy ending.
If you like sexy, good-at-heart bad boys, princesses who know how to rescue themselves, and romances that make you laugh so hard you snort your Diet Coke, you’ll love ROYAL SUCKER. Preorder a copy today, and get swept away to happily ever after.
ROYAL SUCKER Excerpt:
I take a deep breath, telling myself I’m ready to face the hordes of reporters waiting for me. Of course I am. When I walk through that jetway into Andera International Airport, I’m going to smile, like the princess I’m about to be, and—
Wait a minute. The plane isn’t taxiing toward the terminal. Why aren’t we going toward the terminal?
My assistant materializes at my side, like she was hiding in the shadows, waiting for my call. “Can I get you anything? A beverage? Some fresh fruit?”
“Why aren’t we going to the terminal?”
“Hmm. Let me check.”
After a brief conference with the flight crew, Adrijana returns. “Unfortunately, His Royal Highness, Prince Edward, is held up in an urgent meeting and can’t make it to the airport. Under the circumstances, your security team felt it would be best to make a more discreet entrance.
The plane taxis toward the far end of of the runway—as far as we can get from the terminal without heading into the woods.
I imagine the reporters waiting inside. The headlines that will accompany their stories about my drive-by arrival.
Future Princess Snubs Her New Country.
Callista Larson is Hiding Something. Ten Experts Weigh in on Her Shameful Secret.
“Ma’am?” Adrijana has that panicked-Bambi look again. “Is something wrong?”
I force on a smile. “Not at all. But I would like to speak to my head of security.”
“Of course. He’s waiting for you on the ground.”
The plane comes to a complete stop and the engine cuts off. A flight attendant in crimson and gold palace livery opens the door.
“After you, ma’am.” Adrijana steps back, motioning for me to precede her down the aisle.
“Thank you.” I need to find my head of security before he causes any more damage, but I make sure to thank the flight crew before ducking out the door.
Dappled sunlight embraces me. The air is cool and fresh, with a faint floral scent.
I breathe deeply.
Andera smells different than the US. My mom used to reminisce about the sweet scent of the Anderan princeza lily, and this is exactly what I imagined the flower would smell like.
Birds sing to me as I descent the portable stairs to the tarmac. Okay, maybe they’re not singing to me, but they’re singing in my vicinity. Either way, it’s hard to believe I was annoyed a minute ago.
A smile takes over my lips. I’m six-thousand miles away from everything I’ve ever known, but for the first time in years, I’m home.
“This is Owen McCadden.” Adrijana motions back toward the plane. “The head of your personal security team.”
A man steps out from the shadows behind the left wing of the jet.
I squint against the sun, sizing him up. With his aviator sunglasses, dark T-shirt, cargo pants, and bulging biceps, he looks more like a Navy SEAL than a palace employee. He strides forward, loose limbed and confident, and I get the strangest urge to scuttle backward.
No. This guy works for Edward, which means, for all intents and purposes, he works for me. I’m going to stand right here and tell him—politely but confidently—not to reroute any vehicle with me inside unless he has my personal permission. “Hello,” I say. “I—”
He pushes his sunglasses to the top of his head.
I suck in a breath, fighting the urge to run. I know those eyes. The swirling energy. The barely leashed aggression. He’s every emotionally crippled guy I’ve ever nursed back to health, only to be dumped for someone else. Every guy who’s ever told me he loved me when he was only using me as a fun, temporary distraction. Just looking at his smoldering, I-have-deep-inner-pain scowl makes me want to drop to my knees and give thanks that I’ve finally kicked my bad-boy habit and found a genuinely kind, mature man.
Owen holds out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.” I don’t want to touch him, but there’s no polite way out of it.
I take his hand.
His grip is firm. Strong. He’s taller than Edward, and so aggressively male that I jerk back reflexively. At the exact moment he releases my hand.
I wobble, the earth tilting unsteadily around me.
Crap. My input about the proper chain of command is not going to go over well if I’m sprawled on my ass in the middle of the tarmac.
Owen steadies me, one hand on my shoulder, the other at the small of my back, almost like we’re dancing. I breathe in his scent—leather, smoke, and danger—and my head goes fuzzy, my well-though-out arguments transforming into a muddled haze.
We stand there, staring at each other. After what seems like a decade, his hands fall to his sides. Not that it helps. I still feel them on my body, like they left a permanent impression.
Alarm bells clang in my head. This is the way it always starts. One day I’m having sexy daydreams about a guy. Six months later I’m mainlining ice cream, trying to figure out how I’m going to make rent now that he’s taken off with the entire contents of my bank account.