ROYALLY SCREWED
Emma Chase, New York Times bestselling author of the
Tangled Series & Legal Briefs Series, returns with the first of three
sizzling standalone books about a family of racy, irresistible Royals.
Nicholas
Arthur Frederick Edward Pembrook, Crowned Prince of Wessco, aka “His Royal
Hotness”, is wickedly charming, devastatingly handsome, and unabashedly
arrogant—hard not to be when people are constantly bowing down to you.
Then,
one snowy night in Manhattan, the prince meets a dark haired beauty who doesn’t
bow down. Instead, she throws a pie in his face.
Nicholas
wants to find out if she tastes as good as her pie, and this heir apparent is
used to getting what he wants.
***
Dating
a prince isn’t what waitress Olivia Hammond ever imagined it would be.
There’s
a disapproving queen, a wildly inappropriate spare heir, relentless paparazzi,
and brutal public scrutiny. While they’ve traded in horse drawn carriages for
Rolls Royces and haven’t chopped anyone’s head off lately—the royals are far
from accepting of this commoner.
But
to Olivia—Nicholas is worth it.
***
Nicholas
grew up with the whole world watching, and now Marriage Watch is in full force.
In the end, Nicholas has to decide who he is, but more importantly, who he
wants to be: a King... or the man who gets to love Olivia forever.
Pre-order Royally Screwed NOW!
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Excerpt
The next
week is blissfully uneventful. I address Palace business during the day, and
spend my nights with Olivia—which are so much more than blissful.
While I
work, she relaxes like I want her to. She walks the grounds and has found a
friend in Franny. They’ve had lunch together a few times, which doesn’t exactly
thrill me, but at the very least, I know she’s safe with Simon’s wife.
Franny,
and her forked tongue, will protect Olivia from the Lucy-types looking to wound
her with their half-truths.
On the
rare occasions my brother is sober, he becomes increasingly agitated—like he’s
unable to sit still, to stand his own company, or any sound that resembles
silence. Finally, he decides to throw a welcome home party for himself.
I’m in
my bathroom preparing for his royal yacht party, just showered with a towel
around my hips, scraping the last of the shaving cream off my jaw, when Olivia
appears in the doorway.
I
thought she was lovely from the first moment I saw her. But here, now—her bare,
soft skin wrapped in a pink silk robe, her face glowing with well-rested happiness…she’s
magnificent.
“So…do
you guys have like a gift shop or a convenience store around here?”
I laugh.
“A gift shop?”
She
holds up a light blue disposable razor. “I’m out of razors. This one’s so dull
I could run it over my tongue without drawing blood.”
“Let’s
not test that theory. I like your tongue too much.” I wipe my chin with a
towel. “I can have the staff bring one to your room.”
The devil
on my shoulder—and the angel too—smack me upside the head. And they whisper a
much better idea.
“Or…I
could help you out.”
Her
brows draw together. “Help me out? I can’t use your razor.”
“No,
definitely not—you’d cut yourself to ribbons.” I finger the sharp, heavy
straight blade. “What I mean is…I could shave for you.”
Her eyes
darken, the way they do when she’s right on the edge—right before she comes. And
she moves closer to me.
“Do
you…want to do that?”
My gaze
drags down, down, over every sumptuous inch of her body.
“Oh,
yes.”
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