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Some fairy tales start after midnight.
The crown prince and I have nothing in common.
He’s a rugged, battle-hardened soldier who spent four years in the Royal Guard, an elite military unit. I met the King and Queen for the first time wearing leggings and a sweatshirt.
He’s the serious, quiet, straight-laced heir to the throne, and I accidentally got drunk at a formal dinner.
But there’s the way he looks at me, eyes blazing with hunger. Like he knows every dirty thought I’ve had about him – and he likes them. There’s the way my pulse skyrockets every time his hand brushes mine.
I’m the ambassador’s daughter. I know better than to mess around with a foreign head of state.
But I don’t know how long I can resist.
Not all princes are charming.
I spent years in the Royal Guard, our most elite military unit, fighting like hell so I could rule one day – not so I could give my father an heir with some well-bred rich girl.
I have a f*cking country to run. My love life can take a back seat. It’s not like I’ve ever met a girl I had to have.
Until her. The ambassador’s daughter. She’s so… American. Lowborn, brash, wildly unsuitable… andgorgeous.
I’m disciplined, tough as hell, and I don’t f*ck around. But I can’t stop thinking about the way she laughs, about how she might taste. My father’s threatening to strip me of my title if I touch her, but she makes me want to break every one of my own rules.
F*ck titles. F*ck rules. F*ck my father’s threats. I want her. I need her.