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***RELEASE DAY for The Royal Nanny Undercover!!***

When an old friend calls in a favor that sends me to the UK to pose as a nanny, I’m not thrilled. Kids and me? Not a great mix. But Prince Nicholas and his wife, Kyra, turn out to be the most relaxed royal parents ever, and their little girl is actually a sweetheart. Protecting their family turns into something I want to do. Maybe this undercover nanny job will be easier than I thought.

The only problem? The prince’s cousin Milo, the Earl of Ross, is living here, too, and this guy is a huge complication. He’s arrogant, elitist, and haughty. Oh, and he’s also handsome, sexy, and super hot.

I don’t want to feel this attraction to him, but it seems I can’t help it. How can I do my job if I’m more worried about protecting my heart from falling for him?

 

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Tawdra Kandle is the author of over 100 romances that span genres from contemporary through paranormal. Her engaging and realistic characters bring readers back again and again to devour the steamy love stories she spins. Fan favorites include The Anti-Cinderella Chronicles and the Career Soldier series.

Tawdra lives in central Florida with her husband, who is an Anglican priest, a sweet pup, and too many cats. Assorted grown children and two perfect granddaughters live nearby. And yeah, she rocks purple hair.

You can visit Tawdra’s website for more information and subscribe to her newsletter for sales announcements, special exclusive content, and promotions!

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The Anti-Cinderella Royal Romance Box Set: Celebrate the 99 cent sale with a bonus scene!

How to celebrate a 99-cent sale on a super romantic royal box set? How about a never-before-seen prequel scene??

 

“This was the best idea ever, Ky.”

My grandmother lifted the bottle of wine toward me just before she took a long swig. Next to me, my best friend Shelby giggled.

“Go, Honey! I’m impressed.”

Honey grinned at her. “Sweetie, never go up against this old hippie in a drinking contest. You’ll always lose.” She passed the bottle to me. “But I’m serious, Kyra. Having a girls’ night to christen your new digs here in Maine was inspired. And I appreciate that you two young ones included this old broad.”

“If you’re an old broad, Honey, I want to be just like you when I grow up.” I took a less-ambitious sip of the bottle.

“Genetics tells us you have a pretty good shot.” My grandmother winked and nudged me. “But you know that old saw about how you’re only as old as you feel? It’s true. I know that to you girls, I probably seem ancient, but in my mind, I’m a spring chicken. Young and spry. Just had my first kiss last night.” She sighed with a reminiscent smile.

“Ooooh, tell us about it!” Shelby leaned forward, her eyes sparkling. “I want to hear all the dirty details. Who did you kiss? Where did it happen?”

“Oh, darlings.” Honey held out her hand for the wine. “Well, it will sound tame and boring to you two, but for me, it was pure magic. ” Her smile broadened. “It was a sock hop, of all things. I went to a private school, but my best friend and I had learned that the local public high school was having a dance one Friday night. I’d been mooning after a boy who was a student there–we’d met at the library, and even though we’d barely spoken more than a word or two, I was positive that it was love at first sight.”

“And was it?” I tilted my head.

“Perhaps,” Honey allowed. “Maybe it was first love, that tender, precious bud that rarely weathers the storms of life. At any rate, Louisa–my best friend–convinced me that we should show up at the dance. So we played that old trick of telling our parents that we were each at the other’s house for the night, and then we snuck off to the dance.”

“You were such bad girls,” I teased. “And was your crush there?”

“Oh, yes, he was. Surrounded by girls, which made me want to turn around and leave. But then he saw me, and it was just like a storybook. He pushed through his crowd of admirers and came to me. He asked me to dance.”

“And you said yes, of course,” Shelby said.

“I don’t remember saying yes, but the next thing I knew, we were holding each other close on the dance floor while the band played Earth Angel.” 

“So romantic,” I groaned. “Then what?”

“As the song ended, he drew me even closer, lifted my chin with one finger, and he kissed me right there, in front of all of his friends and classmates.”

“God, I can’t stand it!” Shelby shimmied a little in her chair. “What happened next?”

Honey screwed up her face. “Then suddenly my father was there. He put his hand on the boy’s shoulder and yanked him away from me before he took me by the arm and dragged me–and Louisa–from the gym. All the way home, we got the tongue lashing of our lives.”

“What about your crush? Did you ever see him again?” I demanded.

“No.” Honey shook her head. “That night was the beginning of a new restlessness in me, a growing resentment of my parents’ restrictiveness and their expectations that I would follow in their footsteps. Six months later, I ran away from home and ended up in San Francisco, where eventually, I met a man who showed me what real love looked like.”

“I hope you’re talking about Handsome.” Shelby raised her eyebrows.

“Of course I am. Once I caught sight of him, he was it for me. No one else existed. I still feel the same way.” Honey sighed. “But I still never forgot that first kiss at the sock hop.”

“That’s so sweet.” I took my turn at the wine and reached for a handful of popcorn. “It’s your turn, Shelby. Tell us about your first kiss.”

“It wasn’t nearly as romantic as Honey’s story,” my friend retorted. “I was with a bunch of friends at the bowling alley, and a guy at the next lane suddenly came over to chat me up . . . and when I got a strike on my next turn, he kissed me.” Shelby rolled her eyes. “I found out later that his friends had bet him he couldn’t get a kiss before our games ended. I was super pissed off.”

“Ugh, that sucks.” I patted her arm. “But you’ve more than made up for it in the years since.”

“It’s true,” she agreed smugly. “I’ve had my share of kisses. But I’m still irritated that the jerk stole my first one.”

“Karma will get him,” Honey assured us. “And doesn’t your sister still write that column about having to kiss a lot of frogs before you find your prince, Shelby? You just happen to have hit an especially slimy frog first thing.” My grandmother’s gaze slid to me. “Speaking of princes . . .  I think it’s your turn to tell us a story, Ky.”

My face heated. The tale of my own first kiss was still a somewhat sensitive memory, and I rarely shared it. But now Shelby was watching me with anticipation and interest, and a small, knowing smile played around Honey’s lips.

“Oh, mine’s . . . it’s actually kind of boring. We used to spend the summers at Honey and Handsome’s house down in Florida when we were growing up. Honey’s best friend Louisa–the one from the sock hop–had a house right next door, and her grandchildren used to come for about a month every summer. One of them was a boy around my age, and one summer night . . .well, he kissed me.” I shrugged. “And that was my first kiss.”

Honey was watching me with an inscrutable eye, and I knew she must have been thinking about what I’d left out of the story–and why. But she didn’t say anything.

“C’mon, Kyra, there’s got to be more to it than that. Give me the deets, babe. You always tell the best stories, and this one was like the Reader’s Digest version. I need more.”

“There isn’t any more,” I replied, my words clipped. “I was fifteen. He was sixteen. We were on the beach, and he was leaving the next day. He kissed me, then he went into his grandmother’s house, and the next morning, he was gone. I never saw him again.”

“Did you have feelings for him?” Shelby pressed.

“I–I mean, I guess–” I tossed up both hands. “I was fifteen, Shel. Any feelings I had would have been shallow and . . . inconsequential.” Grimacing, I added, “And clearly he didn’t feel anything for me since he left without a backward glance and didn’t bother to ever write or call or anything.” All these years later, that pain still twinged just a little.

“But—” Shelby looked from me to Honey, obviously waiting for one of us to break. I caught my grandmother’s eye and telegraphed a plea for rescue.

“Shelby.” Honey snagged the wine and shook the bottle a little. “I think we need to crack open a new bottle. And once we do, I’ll tell you what it was like to be in Haight-Ashbury in the summer of 1969 . . .”

As my grandmother and my best friend disappeared into the kitchen to open another bottle, I breathed a silent sigh of relief. There wasn’t much I hid from Shelby; she’d been my best friend since we’d met in college, and now she was also my housemate.

But even so, I wasn’t ready to tell her that the boy who’d given me my first kiss was Nicholas Windsor . . . a prince of the United Kingdom and a grandson of the Queen.

After all, it wasn’t like I was ever going to see Nicky again.

 

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The Anti-Cinderella Royal Romance Box Set is Only 99 Cents!

Only 99 cents for a limited time!

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All three books in the best-selling The Anti-Cinderella trilogy available in one set!

The Anti-Cinderella

How many girls can say their first kiss was with a prince in the British royal family?

I was fourteen and he was sixteen, and yes, it was magical. But I didn’t even think about it-or Nicky Windsor-for the next ten years . . . until fate brought us back together again.
Now everything has spun out of control. The whole world seems to be watching me, wanting to see some kind of modern Cinderella story.
But trust me, I’m no man’s princess. I’m more comfortable in tennis shoes than in a tiara, more likely to rock a bucket than a ball gown, and more liable to fall on my face than to pull off a graceful wave.
The only thing that keeps me from running away and hiding is Nicky. He’s all I’ve ever wanted in a man: hot, hunky and head-over-heels in love with me. I think I feel the same way. I think I want to be with him forever.

The Anti-Cinderella Takes London

Falling in love with a prince wasn’t something I planned . . .

When I reconnected with the first guy I ever kissed, I never dreamed I’d end up moving to England to be closer to him. But Nicky and I are in love, and living together was the next logical step.
But dating royalty is even more challenging now that I’m in London. Every move I make, every word I say, is under the microscope. Becoming part of Nicky’s family while staying true to who I am isn’t easy.
Nicky makes everything worthwhile. The hours when we’re alone together are paradise. And if the press and the pressure are the price I have to pay for him . . . I’ll choose Nicky, every single time.
After all, London’s just another town. Right?

The Anti-Cinderella Conquers the World

The royal wedding was only the beginning of my happy ending . . .

I’m now a full-fledged member of the royal family. That means all my problems are over, doesn’t it?
Apparently not.
Even though I’m now a princess-by-marriage and a duchess-by-title, I’m still the same Kyra who’s prone to putting her sneaker-clad foot into her mouth.
It’s a good thing Nicky loves me. Our work is thriving, and our marriage is strong. Together, we can tackle any challenge. But it’s not until our peaceful existence is threatened that I realize how precious it is.
And they lived happily ever after . . . didn’t they?

AND a bonus short story!

Hot Off the Pressan Anti-Cinderella World Romance!

Sophie Kent loves her new job as press liaison for Kyra Duncan, fiancee of Britain’s Prince Nicholas. But there’s one downside, and it comes in the form of a very sexy, very annoying American reporter named Garrett Smith. He’s determined to make life more difficult, and so far, he’s succeeding. But these two just might discover their chemistry is stronger than their combat.

First Chapter Friday: The Anti-Cinderella Takes London

Falling in love with a prince wasn’t something I planned . . .

When I reconnected with the first guy I ever kissed, I never dreamed I’d end up moving to England to be closer to him. But Nicky and I are in love, and living together was the next logical step.

If I thought dating royalty was a tough gig when I was living in the USA, I’m learning that it’s even more challenging now that I’m in London. Every move I make, every word I say, is under the microscope. Becoming part of Nicky’s family while staying true to who I am isn’t easy.

Nicky makes everything worthwhile. The hours when we’re alone together are paradise. And if the press and the pressure are the price I have to pay for him . . . I’ll choose Nicky, every single time.

After all, London’s just another town. Right?

*****

Read the first chapter here!

“Heading home, Kyra?” Serena Kessel turned a bright smile toward me as I passed her desk. Although it was only mid-afternoon, I was on my way out of the brand-new London offices of Honey Bee Juices.

“Actually, I am. I know it’s early, but I’ve found that it’s—ah, easier to avoid—well, it’s better if I vary the time of day that I come and go.” I hated being so vague, but I’d learned the hard way that discretion was the better part of valor—or wisdom, in this case. Being my normal chatty self could potentially put an innocent person into a bad position if she was cornered by the press.

“Of all people, Kyra, you certainly don’t need to explain to anyone why you’re leaving before five. No one would ever question you.” Serena didn’t sound anything but respectful and cheery, but her words struck a nerve. 

“Do you mean because my grandparents own the company? Is that why it’s okay for me to cut out early? Or is it because of who I’m . . .” I stopped abruptly. I heard the almost-shrill tone in my own voice, and I hated it. “Serena, I’m sorry. I know you didn’t—well. I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.” 

“I understand.” The woman was completely unflappable. Here I’d just insulted her, and she didn’t even lose her smile. “I only meant that you work so hard and put in so much more time than the rest of us that no one doubts your dedication.” 

“Thank you. I appreciate your understanding.” I was certain my cheeks were red with embarrassment. “That’s very kind of you.” 

“Not at all.” Serena inclined her head. “Have a lovely weekend. I’ll see you Monday?” It was more of a question than a statement. 

“Yes, of course.” I hiked the strap of my handbag more firmly onto my shoulder. “See you then.” 

My heels clicked on the gleaming tile floors as I walked out of the suite of our offices and down the hallway to the elevator. I passed a few people, some of whom greeted me with a nod and smile, and others of whom glanced at me with open curiosity. I worked hard to keep a blank but pleasant expression on my face.  The hardest thing, I was finding, was not reacting to anything or anyone around me. I thought I’d perfected that ability back in Maine, when the press had first begun following me, but it turned out to be much more challenging here in London. 

The elevator was blessedly empty, and I sagged against the wall, closing my eyes with a long sigh. But once the doors slid open, I was alert and ready again. 

“Heading out, Ms. Duncan?” Alfred, our tall and elegant doorman, smiled at me. “Anything I can do for you?” 

Alfred asked me the same question each day as I left, as if he might be able to suddenly wave a magic wand and make all of the reporters and photographers waiting for me beyond the frosted glass doors disappear. I only wished he could. 

“Thanks, Alfred. I’ll be fine.” I paused to offer him a genuine smile. “I hope you have a nice weekend.”

“You too, Ms. Duncan.” He paused. “Keep your chin up, if you don’t mind me saying it. Everyone here thinks the world of you.” 

“Thank you.” I wished I could say something more—I could tell that Alfred, like so many of the people with whom I worked, hoped that I might relax and share a little with him. But I liked him too much to put the dear man into that position. 

So I simply gave him a wave and another smile before I braced myself for the onslaught and pushed open the door. 

The late-afternoon sun in London in November was anemic at best, but it was shining directly into my eyes, making me blink madly. And it was then the clicking began.

“Kyra! Kyra! Look here. Kyra!”

“Are you joining Prince Nicholas in Africa this weekend? A little pre-engagement honeymoon?”

“Has the Queen given her approval? Have you met Her Majesty, Kyra?” 

“Give us a smile, love! One good picture, Kyra!”

They all shouted at once, and the flashes went off, and they crowded around me. The same panic I felt every single time this happened roared to life, making me long to push them out of my way and run. Run far away and escape from their relentless questions, particularly when they were asking about matters that were tender spots just now. 

My car was parked just a few yards down the block, and with as much purpose as I could manage, I waded through the hoard of press, my lips pressed together and my jaw clenched. I didn’t make eye-contact with any of them, and I tried not to react when they shouted out my name . . . over and over again.

Once I was finally safe in the driver’s seat, I wasted no time before I started the engine and carefully eased away from the curb. I’d learned my lesson during my first week at Honey Bee London, when, in an effort to make a fast getaway, I’d peeled out without looking over my shoulder and nearly side-swiped a passing car. That had made the newspaper and the internet rounds, with the less-charitable publications christening me ‘Krashpad Kyra’. 

Today I managed to get into my lane without any issue. By now, I could make the drive from my office to Kensington Palace with my eyes closed, and it didn’t take long before I was pulling in through the gates at a special residents-only entrance, restricted from public view. The guard waved to me, and I waved back with a quick grin. 

I always experienced an odd mix of feelings when I was back here at the Palace. There was relief, of course, because this was one place where I didn’t have to worry about photographers or reporters, provided I stuck to the more secluded sections of the grounds. But at the same time, I felt a pang of sadness, a sense of being stifled, because in all of the small island nation, this was the only place where I could relax. It felt rather like living in a zoo, I thought as I made my way slowly to the cottage that Nicky and I shared. A beautiful, historic zoo with tons of security and lots of benefits—but a zoo, nonetheless.

Since it was Friday, there weren’t many people around the palace grounds. Most of the residents had decamped for the country either yesterday or earlier in the day; Nicky’s cousins, all of whom were ahead of him in the line of succession, owned estates outside of London, where they could indulge in fun things like hunting and riding horses. One of his sisters lived here with her husband, but they too were away now, representing the Queen on a trip to Spain. 

I let myself into the cottage and glanced around. We didn’t have a housekeeping staff, although Nicky had had a weekly housekeeper before I’d moved in, and she still came by to dust and sweep every Friday morning. But I knew that with Nicky in Africa, I could stay here in the cottage all weekend and never see another soul. 

I wasn’t sure if that idea was appealing or appalling. 

But first things first. I glanced at the clock on the wall and gave a happy little hum as I kicked off my heels and settled onto the plush loveseat, retrieving my laptop from the leather bag I’d been carrying. It was just after four here, which meant that in New Mexico, it was . . . I frowned, doing the mental math. Eight in the morning. The perfect time to call a friend. 

Within moments, I had the FaceTime app open and was waiting expectantly as the line buzzed. It stopped abruptly, and the screen was suddenly with the sleepy face of my best friend, Shelby.

“Hey,” she croaked. “If it isn’t my favorite princess-to-be.” 

A wave of unease slid over me. “Don’t say that. Someone might hear you and think there really are plans in the works.” I paused. “As of right now, I’m still just the girl living at Kensington Palace with Prince Nicholas. His shack-up lady. The cow who’s giving him the milk for free.”

“Oh, for God’s sake.” Shelby cleared her throat and rolled her eyes at the same time. The woman had talent. “First of all, you know you’re more than just a fling for Nicky. You’re living with him because you both decided you didn’t want to have an ocean between you—and if I remember correctly, darling friend, you’re the one who told Nicky you didn’t want to rush into anything official since you’d never lived in the same time zone. Second, what’s this business about the cow giving away the milk? Are we living in 1955? You aren’t giving anything away—you’re having loads of hot and heavy consensual sex with the man you love.”

“I know you’re right.” I dropped my head to the back cushion of the couch. “It’s just been a long day. A long week, actually. And all of those things I just said are shouted at me daily by the reporters who follow me around. So it’s hard not to internalize some of them.”

“Hmmmm.” Shelby shifted her phone slightly, and I could see that she was still in bed. 

“Hey, shouldn’t you be getting ready for work?” After we’d finished our graduate program in Maine, Shelby had received and accepted an offer for an internship at a center for experimental farming in New Mexico. It was quite an honor, since each year, hundreds of applicants vied for those positions. 

“Nah, I don’t go in until noon today. I worked a late shift last night.” A shadow passed over her eyes, and I wondered if everything was as great as she’d been claiming. Before I could ask, she spoke again. “So you’re just finishing your workday, right? What do you and Prince Charming have planned for this weekend?”

I blew out a long sigh. “Nicky’s in Africa at a conference for No Hungry Child. He won’t be back until Tuesday.”

“And you didn’t go with him? Why not?”

“Because he’s there in an official capacity.” I lifted one shoulder. “I can only travel with him when we’re going someplace for leisure. Like a vacation or a holiday trip. Because as I’ve been reminded more than once, I don’t have any official standing now.”

“That’s bullshit. You’re the prince’s girlfriend. Can’t he tell them he wants to take you with him?” Shelby was bristling, ready to jump to my defense as always. 

“No. I mean, he could, I guess, but it wouldn’t make any difference. There are ways of doing things in this family, and they don’t change on a dime. We’re talking centuries of tradition.” I hesitated. “It’s not easy, though, for either of us. I spend a lot of time here at the cottage by myself.”

“That sucks.” Shelby was still indignant, tradition be damned. “What about Nicky’s sisters? His family? Can’t you do things with them?”

It was all so complicated, a situation mired in potential pitfalls for me, and since I barely understood all the whys and wherefores, I knew it would be difficult to explain to Shelby. “If we’re invited to dinner by his parents or Alex and Jake, his sister and brother-in-law, I can go, as long it’s just a family meal. But they don’t do that very often. Everyone’s busy with their own lives and commitments. And if it’s the larger family, with the Queen and all the aunts and uncles and cousins—then I’m not included. I can’t go with Nicky if he’s going to a party or a movie premiere or a charity benefit if he’s there in his official capacity.”

“But if he’s going as a board member for his charities—the hungry child one and Waste Not—those you can go to with him, right?” Shelby persisted. 

“As long as it’s deemed a quiet event, like a lunch or a tea or something at a private home. It’s just the way they do things here, Shel. I’m not mad or anything—I understand it. Only, sometimes I’m a little lonely.”

“Of course, you are.” She was quiet for a few seconds. “Have you made any friends of your own there, so you have people to hang with when Nicky’s occupied?” 

I shook my head. “No. I have a working relationship with the people at Honey Bee, but I can’t socialize with them really—not in any genuine way, because I’m constantly worried that one of them might go to the press and share something. I can’t just go to a pub and make friends, either. If I’m not here at the cottage, I’m at the Honey Bee offices. That’s my life.” To my horror, a sob caught in my throat. I backed away a little, hoping Shelby hadn’t heard it. 

But no such luck. “Kyra, that’s no way to live. You sound miserable.” Her forehead drew together. “Isn’t there anything you can do to make things better? I mean, the Royal Family can’t make you stay home alone, right? If you’re not official enough to go to public events with Nicky, then they shouldn’t have the power to force you into anything.”

“Nobody is forcing me to do anything.” I pressed my fingers to my temples, where suddenly a headache pounded. “But would you want to go sightseeing if a throng of reporters were following you everywhere? Or if you couldn’t even run to the corner shop without being recognized and having people stare and point?” I shuddered. “Trust me. Staying here is far preferable to that.”

“Oh, Ky.” Shelby bit her lip, her eyes worried. “This isn’t good.” She studied me through the camera. “When’s the next time you’re coming home for a visit?”

“Two weeks.” I was so looking forward to the trip—and dreading it at the same time. “I’m spending Thanksgiving in Florida with the entire family.” 

“Florida? Don’t the Duncans usually do Thanksgiving in Maine?” Shelby had been my best friend long enough to know our traditions. “And is Nicky coming with you?

I shook my head. “No. It’s not a holiday for him, you know, and he already had engagements for that week, so it’s just going to be me.” I swallowed over the lump of worry that had risen in my throat at the thought of leaving him behind. It was far too reminiscent of what had happened between us last year, when we’d broken up for six months. Giving myself a little shake, I went on. 

“And you’re right about Maine. Usually we do celebrate there, but this year, Honey’s been sick. She was in the hospital with pneumonia for a week in October, and the doctor advised against her traveling this winter.”

“Wait a minute—Honey was sick—in the hospital—and you didn’t tell me?” Shelby scowled at me through the camera. “Is she okay?” Shelby adored my grandparents, who were known as Handsome and Honey by both family and friends. I’d given them those names when I was a toddler, and to their delight, the nicknames had stuck. 

“From what I hear, yes, she’s going to be fine.” I crossed my legs and shifted on the cushion of the sofa. “Believe me, I wasn’t any too happy about being all the way over here when she was sick. But my dad promised he’d keep me informed. He was concerned that if I flew to Florida, the press circus might be too disrupting for the family while they were trying to take care of her.” 

“I understand.” Shelby tilted her head, sympathy in her eyes. “Not being there must’ve been killing you. But here’s some good news—if you’re going to be in Florida for Thanksgiving, I can come see you. I’m flying home for that week, too.”

I sat up straighter, giving a little squeal of delight. “Oh, my God! That’s awesome. If you can come over to the beach, we can have a girls’ night. Movies and wine and ice cream.” I paused. “Maybe not in that order.” 

Shelby laughed. “I’m in. I’m spending the first three days with Vivian and Charlie and the baby, and then I need to fit in a visit with the parentals and Aunt Gail. But by the weekend, I’m sure I’m going to be more than ready for some best friend time.” 

“Okay. It’s a date.” I’d been looking forward to going home for the holiday anyway, but now I was even more excited. 

“It definitely is.” She glanced at something off-camera and wrinkled her nose. “But right now, I need to get my ass in gear. I want to grab some breakfast before I go to work. So . . . we’ll text about the details, but otherwise, I’ll see you in two weeks.” 

“I can’t wait.” I frowned a little. “But Shel, is everything all right there? I feel like we talked about all my problems and you didn’t tell me how things are in New Mexico.” 

That same shadow passed over her eyes again. “It’s all good, Ky. Maybe slightly complicated, but—well, I love the work, and the people are mostly nice. I’m learning so much. I just wish . . .” Her voice trailed off. “We’ll talk at Thanksgiving, babe, and I promise, I’ll spill my guts then. You can give me wise counsel over wine.” 

“Okay. You know I’m here for you no matter what, right, Shelby?” I had a feeling that she was evading my questions. “Best friends trump everything, even Royal Family orders. That’s not going to change.” 

“Of course, it isn’t,” she returned. “I know that. Ciao for now, sweetie. And hang in there. Everything is going to work out for you and Nicky. I just know it.” 

I ended the call with a smile, but once I’d shut the computer, the silence of the cottage weighed on me even heavier, and the empty hours of the weekend stretched out before me. 

“Well, I guess it’s just me and Netflix once again,” I sighed, reaching for the television remote. “Another glamorous weekend in the life of Prince Nicky’s girlfriend.”

 

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First Chapter Friday: Just Roll With It

It was only supposed to be a one-night thing.

Amanda
When I showed up at my friends’ engagement party, the last thing I planned for was a wild one-night stand with the bride’s older brother. On the other hand, Vincent DiMartino is smart, sexy—and safe. He doesn’t want more than a quick hook-up–and neither do I. Or so I thought.

When life tosses us together again, the same intense spark is still there. There’s nothing wrong with a casual relationship . . . unless someone’s heart is at risk.

Vincent

I’m not interested in long-term anything, and I have no desire for a serious relationship. My job as a pastry chef in my family’s restaurant demands all of my time and attention. The night I spent with Amanda Simmons was supposed to be just that—one night. But I didn’t bargain for how much I’d enjoy her sense of humor, her intelligence and her sass . . . not to mention her unrepentant sensuality.

Now that I realize I want more than just her body, can I persuade Amanda to take a chance on me? Will she risk her heart on the man who was only supposed to be a fling?

Sometimes plans go awry. And sometimes, you just have to roll with it.

Read the first chapter now!

Amanda

The city sidewalk felt like a wind tunnel as I hustled toward the entrance of my apartment building and yanked open the door, fighting the blast of hot air that tried to thwart me. A man in an understated uniform standing behind the desk smirked at me.

“Little breezy today, Ms. Simmons?” Rocky cocked his head.

“Just a tad.” I ran my fingers through my dark hair, giving my head a little shake just so that I could see between the thick strands. For the hundredth time, I congratulated myself for getting my hair cut last week; taking five inches off the length made me feel lighter, somehow. It was also easier on a day like today when the gusts would’ve tangled my curls into snarls.

?“Are you glad to be finished for the week? Ready for a relaxing weekend?” The doorman and I had an easy, teasing acquaintance. Rocky prided himself on his familiarity with the schedules and rhythms of the people who lived in this building, and so he knew that I’d just finished my first week back at law school. He also knew how happy I was that this was my last year. I was beyond ready to be done with classes, papers, and exams . . . even if I wasn’t sure that diving into the world of civil law was going to be that much better.

?“Normally, I’d say hell, yeah, but tonight isn’t going to be my typical ordering in and vegging. I have to go out.”

?Rocky chuckled. “Most people your age love to go out on a Friday night. You sound so glum about the idea.”

“I am,” I sighed. “I’m tired, and I’m grumpy and—” A trilling sound came from the bag on my shoulder. “And that’s my mom calling for our weekly catch-up. I better answer it. See you later, Rocky.”

“Stay cool, Ms. Simmons.”

?I waved and pushed the button for the elevator at the same time that I answered the phone. “Hey, Ma. How’s it hanging?”

The long sigh on the other end of the line made me grin. “Amanda, my mother and her mother are rolling in their respective graves in horror at the way you answer your telephone. And the good instructors at St. Ursula’s Academy aren’t thanking you, either.”

“Fine.” Stepping onto the elevator, I affected a genteel tone, imitating the cooing voices I’d grown up hearing from all the so-called ladies. “Good afternoon, Mother. I hope you are quite well.”

She groaned. “That’s even worse. Isn’t there some kind of happy medium with you?”

?“Nope. I’m all or nothing, from one extreme to the other. And you know it because that’s how you raised me.”

“And I have no one to blame but myself. Oh, well.” My mother laughed. “How did the first week of classes go?”

“Fine. Nothing unexpected.” I unlocked the door to my apartment and stepped inside, throwing the deadbolt out of habit. “Dr. Arlington asked me to send you her best.”

?“Lois Arlington? Good Lord, is she still teaching? She was ancient when I was there. I’m surprised she’s still alive.”

“I’m not positive she is. She never stands up the entire class period—she teaches from her chair. For all I know, she could be an animated corpse. But she remembers you, so there’s that.”

“It’s something. Are you just getting home now? Sounds like you had a long day.”

?I kicked off my shoes and padded through the living room, past the kitchen, and into my bedroom, where I eyed my king-sized bed longingly. I wanted nothing more than to crawl under the covers and sleep the weekend away.

“Yeah, I’m home, and yeah, it was a long day. But it’s not over yet. I have Liam and Ava’s engagement party tonight, remember?”

“Ah, that’s right. I forgot that the party’s this weekend.” A little bit of regret tinged Mom’s voice. “I have that fundraiser in Newark. I’d much rather be celebrating with all of you. Be sure to give Liam and Ava my love. And Laura, too, of course.”

“Will do. Think the senator will show up?” I unbuttoned my jeans and wriggled them down my legs, kicking them off.

“I have no idea what that man might do anymore, except that it’ll probably be the wrong thing, and he’ll end up making an ass of himself. I won’t be sorry to miss that.” Mom sniffed. “I can tell you that the governor is not at all happy with Liam’s father. It’s only a matter of time before the party kicks him out of his seat. You can’t talk about family values for decades and then screw around on your wife. At least, you can’t do that if you’re going to remain wholly unrepentant.”

“Which he is.” I switched the phone over to speaker and set it on the dresser so that I could peel off my shirt. “I feel so sorry for Liam’s mom. She must be mortified.”

“Well . . .” My mother chuckled. “I wouldn’t feel too bad for Laura. I ran into her a few weeks back, and she was, um, very cozy with her companion. I think he’s got to be at least ten years younger than she is. And he is . . .” Mom paused, as though she was searching for the right word to use. “Uh, quite the looker.”

“Liam’s mom has a hot new boy toy? Go, Mrs. Bailey.” Reaching behind me, I unhooked my bra and leaned forward until it fell down my arms and landed on the floor. “I never knew she had it in her.”

“I doubt the Senator did, either,” Mom responded drily. “But I will say that Laura seemed to be very happy.”

?“I just bet she is.” I picked up the phone again and turned the speaker off as I brought it to my ear. “Hey, I’d be happy, too, if I were getting laid on the regular by a smokin’ hot dude.”

“Amanda, really.” I could practically feel my mother’s shudder. “I don’t want to think about my friend getting laid, and I certainly don’t want to hear my daughter talking about her sex life.”

“Or lack thereof,” I muttered, nudging open the bathroom door with my shoulder.

“Well, I should probably let you get ready for tonight,” Mom said loudly enough that I knew she was making a point of ignoring my words. “Have a good time. I’ll think about you while I’m dying a slow death of boredom.”

“You do that. See you Sunday?” I rummaged in the bathroom cabinet until I found my curling iron. “We’re still on for O’Doulies?”

?“Brunch at eleven,” my mother confirmed. “You can tell me all about the engagement party, and your father can show you pictures of the site he’s flying off to next week.”

“It’s a date. Love you, Mom.”

“Love you, too, sweetheart.”?I set my phone down on the bathroom counter, plugged in the curling iron, and reached into the shower to turn on the water. Wriggling out of my panties, I tossed them in the vague direction of the laundry basket and stepped into the stall, giving a happy little sigh as the hot water hit my skin.

It felt weird to be getting ready to leave my apartment again. In the past three months, I’d been living and breathing law, up to my neck in interrogatories and depositions between my part-time job in a law firm and my classes. I’d intentionally stepped away from any kind of social life after Cam and I had called it quits last spring. ?I wasn’t nursing a broken heart by any means. Cam and I had started out as friends with benefits, and when we’d morphed into more, it had been out of convenience rather than passion. Exclusivity wasn’t hard for either of us, because we were both too busy to go looking for other distractions. Our relationship perks had included having an automatic plus-one for any social occasion and the promise of sex-on-request whenever either of us needed it. We’d always gotten along well, and if I were being honest, I’d have to admit that I’d enjoyed our sparring about law and politics even more than I’d loved our sex life.

When Cam had graduated in May and accepted a position with a firm in Seattle, a couple of our friends had asked if I planned to follow him to the West Coast after I’d finished school. We’d both laughed because the idea had never crossed our minds. After his graduation celebration—which had been dinner with his parents in a lovely, trendy restaurant—we’d said goodbye. Cam had kissed me on the cheek and promised to keep in touch. So far, we’d texted now and then, but I knew he was moving on—as he should have.

As for me, I’d jumped into my job with both feet. Aside from seeing my friends Giff and Liam and their respective partners, and the weekly brunch with my parents, I didn’t go out. I ate, I slept, and I worked. Giff had taken to calling me his hermit friend.

“Hey,” I’d retorted. “You’ll be glad I’m working so hard now after I graduate and become your friend who can represent your ass in a court of law.”

“Sweetie, the only thing I can be accused of is killing it in party planning. And so far, that’s not a crime.”

?Giff and Liam had known me long enough that I didn’t worry about offending them when we went weeks without talking or months without actually seeing each other. But apparently, I’d tried Giff’s patience enough that he’d texted me one Sunday last month, announcing that he and Jeff, his long-time boyfriend, were coming over to take me out to dinner.

“Pick a good restaurant, cookie. Jeff and I want to spoil you a little.”

?I’d smiled at his use of the affectionate name. Choosing obscure nicknames was one of Giff’s specialties. As long as I could remember, he’d called our friend Liam Bailey ‘beetle’, a reference to the old comic strip Beetle Bailey. Liam’s fiancée Ava was ‘peaches’, thanks to her gorgeous skin. And I’d always been ‘cookie’ except for a brief period midway through high school when he’d taken to referring to me as Evita. I’d assumed it was because I’d played that title role in one of our high school productions.

When I’d asked Giff, he’d smiled at me. “That’s part of it. You killed it as Eva Peron, for sure. But it made me think that you’re a whole lot more like her than what I’d realized. You’re a tough cookie on the outside, but inside, you’re mushy, and even though you try to hide it, you want people to like you.”

“Bullshit.” I’d rolled my eyes. “I don’t care what people think of me. That’s a lesson I learned early in life.”

“That’s what you want us to think. But I see more than you know. And I stick by what I say.”

That night, when the three of us were out to dinner, Giff had told me about Liam and Ava’s engagement, as well as about the shit-show that had taken place earlier in the day when the two families had met to talk wedding details. ?“

It was ugly.” He’d shuddered. “The Senator showed up late, guns blazing.”

?“He means that in a figurative sense,” Jeff had put in. “It’s probably important to say that, given Senator Bailey’s position on the Second Amendment.”

“True. Anyway, he wants them to get married next year in DC, and he wants to make it a huge show. I had to get tough with all of the parents.”

?I could just picture it, and I’d smirked. “Did they behave after that?”

“For the most part. The wedding itself is going to be small and intimate, and it’s happening around Christmas time. But they’re letting Mrs. B throw an engagement party next month, so make sure you put it on your calendar as soon as you get your invite.”

And that was why I was now showering and musing over what to wear when most of me wanted to pull on my jammies and curl up on the sofa with a bag of chips, a bowl of onion dip, and Marvel’s The Defenders on TV.

“It’s fine.” I spoke to myself out loud as I turned off the shower and wrapped a fluffy towel around me. “It’s one night. I can show up, smile, do the friend thing, and then come home and veg. I don’t have to stay long.”

Even as I said it, I knew I was delusional. Liam and Ava were among my best friends. I’d never risk hurting their feelings by cutting out early, even if the last thing I wanted to do tonight was to be sociable.

Padding out of the bathroom, I opened my closet door and began flipping through the hangers at the far end, where I kept the clothes I didn’t wear very much. This was the only part of the walk-in that was still organized and fairly neat, thanks to the gift my mom had given me for my last birthday.

Maybe some daughters would’ve been offended if their mother had sent a professional organizer as a gift, but I’d been thrilled. Mavis had shown up and whipped my closet, my drawers, and my desk into shape. She’d been fast and efficient, and she hadn’t shamed me about my lack of neatness. Still, even though we’d agreed to make her visits an annual event, I had to admit that I wasn’t looking forward to letting her see that I’d slid back into bad habits. ?I wasn’t a slob. Not really. I just always had more important things on my mind than doing things like hanging up clothes or folding them neatly. I meant to go back and do it, but somehow, there never seemed to be enough time. Consequently, while my apartment wasn’t dirty, it wasn’t exactly well-ordered, either.

But here in the fancy-dress section of my closet, everything was still hanging by color and length. Granted, the color differentiations weren’t great; most of the dresses were black because I’d long ago discovered that black was the easiest option when it came to evening events. I frowned as I flipped through them; black might be easy, but it was also boring. While I didn’t expect the engagement party tonight to be a wild affair, out of my love for Liam and Ava, I wanted to look my best.

?I was just thinking that I should’ve taken the time to shop for something new and pretty when a flash of red caught my eye. Frowning, I lifted the dress from the rod, trying to remember where it had come from. Was it an impulse purchase when I’d been out shopping with friends? Or had my mother sent it to me? That seemed unlikely, the more I examined the dress; it was short and silky, cut low in front and back, with two thin straps to hold the top up. While my mom was fairly progressive when it came to me and her acceptance of my choices, she never would’ve given me anything this out-and-out sexy.?Still, here it was, and there wasn’t any harm in at least trying it on. If it didn’t fit or if I didn’t like it, I could always go back to one of the black ones.

But once I’d wriggled into it, I knew there was no way I could wear anything else. It didn’t look as though it should fit me, but hot damn, it really did. With boobs the size of mine, there were few times I could go without a bra, but this dress had enough support that the girls were showcased nicely, without making me look ridiculous and trashy. The material clung enough to accentuate my hips and ass, and it was short enough that my legs looked amazing.

?Digging through my shoes, I found a pair of silver strappy heels that worked perfectly. As I scrutinized myself in the mirror, I couldn’t help grinning—all I needed was hair and makeup, and tonight, I was going to be a total babe.

Thirty minutes later, my hair was blown dry, curling slightly around my shoulders, my makeup was flawless, and I’d added some sparkly silver jewelry to compliment the shoes. I transferred my license, my debit card, a twenty-dollar bill, tissues, lipstick, and my phone into a small clutch and hustled my fabulous self downstairs to wait for my ride. ?I wasn’t too precious to take public transportation most of the time. I didn’t mind trains or buses, since owning a car in the city felt like a waste of money and energy. But I also had enough money to afford a car service, thanks to a generous allowance from my parents and my own small salary at the law firm, and tonight, it made sense to splurge. I didn’t want to risk getting wind-blown or overheated when I’d made the effort to look good.

?The RideIt driver pulled up in front of my building right on time. She greeted me with a smile, and then we were on our way.

?* * *

“Amanda! I haven’t seen you in months.”

Ava DiMartino greeted me with a hug and kiss on my cheek. “I’ve missed you.”

?“Apparently, not that much,” I teased, reaching for her left hand. “Look at this sparkler. It’s gorgeous, girl! Liam did good.”

Ava beamed. “Didn’t he? The main diamond came from his grandmother’s ring, and the smaller ones were from one that belonged to my great-grandmother. He designed it himself.”

?“Overachiever.” I winked as the man himself strolled over and wrapped his arms around his fiancée’s waist, pulling her tight against him. “Hey, buddy, congrats on getting the girl. It’s about time. I was starting to worry that I was going to have to nudge you into proposing.”

“Never.” Liam nuzzled Ava’s neck. She shivered, and a pang of stark loneliness quivered through me. “I know a good thing when I have it. I was just waiting for the perfect time.”

?“And this is it.” I lifted my glass of prosecco in a small toast. “I can’t wait to watch you two get married. Giff filled me in on some of the details . . . are you really sticking with the small wedding at Christmas idea?”

“Yup.” Ava nodded. “Giff’s all over the planning, but we’re keeping it small and intimate. In spite of what our mothers want.”

“Good luck with that.” I glanced around the room, taking in the mix of friends and family, some of whom I recognized and some of whom I didn’t. “Your dad isn’t here yet, Liam?”

Ava sighed, and Liam winced. “I don’t think he’s going to show. We had a pretty serious argument last time I saw him, and my mom says he hasn’t been answering her calls or texts. He’s sulking because we won’t do things his way.”

“I’m sorry.” I laid a hand on his arm. “That must suck for you.”

?Liam shrugged. “Honestly, it’s easier that he isn’t here. It’s the guilt over feeling that way that’s the worst part, I think. I should want my dad to be part of my life, right? But I’m always happier when he stays away.”

“It’s going to work out.” Ava turned in his arms and kissed the side of his jaw. “He’ll come around eventually. Your father loves you, babe. It’s just . . . he has to learn what’s really important.”

“You’re too nice.” Liam brushed a thumb over Ava’s lips. “My dad doesn’t deserve the grace you give him.”

“Maybe not, but for you, I’d do anything.” Ava rested her cheek on her fiancé’s chest.

“And on that note, I’m going to find Giff and Jeff before I go into a diabetic coma from all the sugar between you two.” I pretended to gag a little, and they both laughed.

“Enjoy yourself tonight, Amanda.” Ava tilted her head. “Giff tells me you’ve been working too hard lately. So have a good time here, and then let’s make sure to get together for lunch soon. We need to catch up.”

“It’s a date.” I winked at her as I began to move across the room. ?Mrs. Bailey definitely knew how to throw a party. Jazz played softly in the background, and uniformed servers circulated a variety of foods and specialty cocktails. A bar in the corner offered beer, wine, and other mixed drinks. I drained the glass of prosecco that I’d been handed soon after coming in and made my way toward the bar for something more my style.

“It’s probably not exactly PC to say this, but you are the hottest thing on two legs in this whole room.”

?Pausing, I answered without looking back. “Then take me away and do me hard, baby. I’ve been waiting all my life to hear those exact words from you.”

“Hey, now. Are you both forgetting about me?” Jeff made a good show of sounding affronted as I turned around to face both men who were grinning at me.

“Sorry, Jeff. I had him first.” Grabbing Giff’s face, I nailed him with a fast, passionate kiss. “The truth is, I ruined him for all women, and that’s why he had to turn to the male population.”

“Your loss was definitely my gain.” Jeff’s hand wandered lower to rest on Gifford’s ass, and my friend actually blushed a little. These two made my heart melt.

“Seriously, cookie, you cleaned up good tonight. I love the hair a little shorter. And that dress—you put the VA into va-va-VOOM!” Giff held my hand, looking me over.

“Thanks. You both look pretty good yourselves. I was about to get a drink. Care to join me?”

“Don’t mind if we do.” Jeff linked his fingers with Giff’s, and together we approached the bar. Giff ordered a white wine, while Jeff stuck with water. I asked for my regular, sniffing the liquor in appreciation as we wandered back toward the center of the room.

?“It’s a nice party.” I let my eyes roam over the crowd. “Did you help?”

“I gave Mama Bailey a few tips and pointers, and I suggested the caterer, but otherwise, I left everything in her capable hands. The woman’s been throwing parties and hosting political events since I was in diapers. She knows what she’s doing. She could teach me a thing or two.”

“I doubt that.” I sipped my scotch. “You’re making quite a name for yourself. When I tell people that I actually knew the famous Gifford Mackay way back when, I’m practically a minor celebrity myself. Your parties are becoming legendary, my friend. I’m proud of you.”

Jeff nudged him with an elbow. “See that? You’re the talk of the movers and the shakers now, baby.” He met my eyes. “I keep telling him that he’s headed for the big time. But he worries more than you’d think.” ?“

I didn’t ever see myself doing this. Planning events,” Giff admitted. “So sometimes it makes me nervous that everything seems to be coming so easily.”

“You work damn hard. Just because you enjoy what you do doesn’t make the work any less meaningful.” Jeff took a long chug of his water bottle. “You’ve got a gift.”

?“He’s right.” I poked Giff in the ribs. “And speaking of Jeff being right about everything . . . when are you two going to make this official? Weddings come in threes, don’t they? You just planned Ava’s friend Julia’s wedding, and now Liam’s . . . maybe it’s time to tie the knot yourselves.”

?Jeff hooked an arm around Giff’s neck. “We’re going to do it, sooner rather than later. But no big planned event for us. When we get married, I’m whisking him off to the islands, where we can do everything our way, and he doesn’t have to worry about the napkins matching the matchbooks or any shit like that. Just the two of us . . . in a tropical setting . . . lots of rum drinks . . .”

?Giff moaned. “Let’s leave tonight. I’m all over that.”

“If I thought you were serious, I’d have you out the door already,” Jeff retorted. “But soon enough.”

“Can a close, personal friend get in on the destination wedding deal?” I sighed. “I could use a vacation, and you need a witness. I promise, I’d pay my own way, and I’d book a room on the other side of the resort.” I wrinkled my nose. “I don’t need to be in the next room for the wedding night shenanigans.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal.” Jeff touched his water bottle to my glass, and we both laughed. As I tossed back my head to finish my drink, my gaze caught on Liam, who was chatting with a man who looked vaguely familiar. ?But I was pretty sure I’d have remembered meeting a guy like this one. He was tall, with the kind of build I just knew was solid muscle. He was in black dress pants that fit him well in all the right places and a crisp, white cotton button-down shirt that strained over his chest and shoulders. Even as my eyes traveled down his body, he glanced at me, returning the favor as he checked me out, too.

“Giff,” I murmured, never looking away. “Who’s the man candy talking to Liam right now?”

Giff followed the direction of my eyes. “Oooooooh. That’s Ava’s big brother, Vincent. He’s kind of pretty, isn’t he?” He patted Jeff’s back. “No offense, honey.”

“None taken. I’ve always thought it was a shame Vince is straight.” Jeff gave a rueful shake of his head.

“Wait a second. Vincent is the single one, right?” I tried to remember Ava’s family lineup. “He’s not the one who got married a couple of years back?”

?“Nah, that’s the oldest, Carl. Over there with the wife and teeny tiny baby. As far as I know, Vince is unattached. I can’t believe you haven’t met him before now.”

I gave a rueful laugh. “I did, actually. Remember Liam and Ava’s house-warming party a couple of years ago? I had a brief but hostile conversation with one of Ava’s brothers, and if Vince is the pastry chef, he’s the one. He was kind of rude.”

“Vince is the type who doesn’t pull any punches. He says what’s on his mind, no matter what, so I can see him being a little prickly if you two got off on the wrong foot back then. But he’s usually a pretty decent guy.” Giff wiggled his eyebrows at me. “Are you thinking he’s the horse you’re about to get back on?”

?“What?” I tore my gaze away from Vincent and Liam. “What horse?”

“Jeff and I were saying it’s time for you to get back in the saddle after Cam moved west. Now seems as good a time as any to do that.”

“Do you really think it’s a good idea to saddle up Ava’s brother and take him for a ride?” I nibbled the side of my lip. “Don’t you think she might . . . object?”

“Nah.” Giff shook his head. “Ava’s the least judgmental person I know. Plus, there’s that whole deal where her best friend was Liam’s girlfriend before she had him, you know. So she’s not the kind to throw stones.”

“Still—” I was about to say something, to share yet another reason why I might not want to tangle with Vincent DiMartino, when suddenly Giff gripped my arm. ?“Look at that. He’s heading this way!” His whisper was excited. “Oh, my God, Jeff, the look on his face tells me it’s time to exit, stage left.” Giff kissed my cheek. “I have things to do and people to chat up. You have a good time with that one, sweetie pie, and then fill me in on all the details tomorrow. I’ll call you. Later in the day.”

“Giff.” I half-laughed as the two men moved away from me, but when I felt a large, strong hand on my back, between my shoulder blades, all humor died. ?With a deep breath, I turned to face Vincent DiMartino.

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