Synopsis: Crown Prince Nicholas Lytton was never supposed to be ruler of Callanos. He was the “spare to the heir,” pursuing a decadent life of the rich and royal – extreme sports, physical pleasures, and glorious irresponsibility. Until his brother died. Now Nick is to be coronated king, and no one believes he’s ready.
The best way to secure his crown is to do the unthinkable…find a queen.
While Isabel Reynolds works in the palace gardens, she has no desire to draw the attention of the way-too-flirty, would-be king. For she’s not the woman everyone thinks she is. Even if she wanted – or was tempted by – the promise of love, it would only end in disaster. Because while Isabel may be able to catch a king, her secrets would only destroy him…
“You want to tell me why you didn’t want your photo taken?”
She shook her head, the sudden dryness of her throat and the new shot of adrenaline making it impossible to speak.
“Are you ever going to tell me?”
She just stared at him, her silence speaking volumes.
“Fuck me,” he muttered under his breath, lifting a hand to cup her jaw, his thumb gently stroking along her jaw in a move that soothed as much as it shot her adrenaline level back up. “I don’t know whether to thank you for taking me to the camp or to walk away and leave you and your particular brand of trouble alone.”
The only thing she could think to say was the same warning she’d issued previously and ignore the part of her that hoped he didn’t heed it¼once again. “I’m not staying and I’m”
“You’re no Cinderella. You’re a bad idea. I heard you.” He shifted in closer to her body, his length pressing her further back into the stone. He was like a furnace to her front and the contrast with the chilled stone made her shiver. He was not the cause of the tremor, not even a little bit. She would just keep telling herself that and it would be true
“Thanks for the warning but I’m a big boy and I can make all the bad choices I want.” He dipped his head, nose brushing against hers as his breath warmed her lips. She closed her eyes against the onslaught of this man who could have any woman in the world but was hell-bent to have her. His voice was rough when he murmured, “You’re a bad choice that I can’t wait to regret.” He took her mouth, living up to his pronouncement with the deep thrust of his tongue as soon as she gasped with the pleasure of his intrusion and the heavy full press of his body against hers. It was as if they’d been kissing each other forever, the twining of their tongues, the angle of their mouths fitting together perfectly.
Their lips nipped, explored, tongues plunging and tasting and she moaned when his one hand slid along her neck to tangle his fingers in the mess of her hair while the other delved under her T-shirt to glide across the skin of her belly to cup her breast. She pushed into his touch, silently pleading for him to tease her nipple through the light cotton of her bra. It was his turn to moan when the movement caused the strap to slip off her shoulder and drag the cup down, allowing him room to caress flesh against aching flesh.
His skin was rough and calloused, and the sensation lit up her nerve endings. Her breasts, unwilling to keep the pleasure all to themselves, sent hot tendrils down her belly and into the core of her. Wet. Hot. She was dying for him, panting against his mouth as she was taken to the place where all she could do was feel.
Isabel looped her arms around his neck, hanging on for dear life as her legs really did give way under the avalanche of sensations ricocheting inside her body. It had been years since she’d felt this kind of pleasure, had wanted and craved it like it was sustenance to her very being. She wanted him, the shock of it catching in her throat as she gave in to desire that she’d thought had left her completely. She was awake, alive, and finally craved the touch of a man again.
Nick broke away from her mouth, pressing a trail of heat and wet kisses along her neck and angling down along her collarbone.
“Nicky,” she gasped as she gripped his shoulders, nails digging in at the contact of his thigh against her core as he wedged his leg between her own. She moved against his hard muscle, the sharp spikes of electric pleasure beginning in her core and warming her belly into an inferno of desire. “Oh my God, Nicky.”
She felt his smile against the skin just below her ear, the huff of his laughter in her hair. “I like that.”
About Robin Covington
Robin Covington loves to explore the theme of fooling around and falling in love in her sexy, bestselling books. When she’s not writing sexy, sizzling romance she’s collecting tasty man candy pics, hoarding red nail polish, indulging in a little comic book geek love, and obsessing over Dean Winchester. Don’t send chocolate . . . send eye candy!
Robin’s bestselling books have finaled in the Romantic Times Reviewer’s Choice, the Book Seller’s Best and the National Reader’s Choice Awards.
She lives in Maryland with her handsome husband, her two brilliant children (they get it from her, of course!), and her beloved furbabies.
Drop her a line at firstname.lastname@example.org – she always writes back.