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 that kiss didn't exactly change my life. To tell you the truth, I didn't even think about it-or Nicky Windsor-for the next ten years . . . until fate, in the guise of my grandparents, brought us back together again.
Now everything has spun out of control. I'm ducking reporters and photographers when I try to leave home. My friends act as if I'm someone they don't know anymore. 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.
But the idea of life with the royal family terrifies me. Even if I have found my one and only, can I handle what comes after our happy ending?
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Nicky turned over my hand and as I watched, my pulse quickening, he pressed his lips into my palm. “I’m honored that I was your first.”
I swallowed over the lump rising in my throat. “You were a hard act to follow. Pity poor Steve Callway, who had to be my second. He didn’t stand a chance.”
“Steve, huh?” Nicky snorted. “Sounds like a loser.”
“No, he was nice,” I protested. “But I was fifteen and not that interested. He took me by surprise, and I hauled off and hit him. So you definitely got the better response when it came to kissing me.”
Nicky tossed back his head, laughing. “You punched a boy who kissed you? Why?”
“Like I said. I was surprised. He didn’t ask me first.” I lifted a shoulder. “The next time, he knew. He asked, and I didn’t hit. It was a much more satisfying experience for both of us.”
“Ky?” He played with my fingers, his touch on the sensitive skin between them making me shiver. “If I kiss you, will you slug me?”
I was very still, almost afraid to move. “You’d have to take your chances and find out, I guess.”
“The first time . . . I didn’t ask permission, did I? But you didn’t hit me the way you did, uh, Steve.”
“No, you didn’t.” I gave the barest shake of my head. “And I didn’t.”
“When I kiss you again, Ky . . . and I plan to do that . . . I won’t ask. I’ll take you by surprise.” A crooked smile curved his mouth. “And I bet you won’t punch me.”
“You’re willing to take that risk?” I smirked. “I’d watch out. I have a mean right hook. Just think how mortifying it would be to have to explain to the press why you have a black eye.”
His gaze never leaving my face, Nicky moved across the space that separated us until he was looming over me, one arm braced on either side.
“I’ll take my chances.” Lowering himself just slightly, he touched his lips to my forehead. “When the time is right—and it’s not going to be tonight, so you can relax—but at the right time, you won’t even think about swinging at me.” He smiled, but his eyes were filled with intense heat. “You won’t be able to think about anything but me. I promise you that.”
Tawdra Kandle writes romance, in just about all its forms. She loves unlikely pairings, strong women, sexy guys, hot love scenes and just enough conflict to make it interesting. Her books include young adult and new adult paranormal romance, new adult and adult contemporary romance and adult paramystery romance. She lives in central Florida with a husband, kids, sweet pup and too many cats. And yeah, she rocks purple hair. You can FOLLOW Tawdra here to receive updates on her releases, sales and special events. You can also subscribe to her newsletter http://tiny.cc/TawdraNewsletter for sales announcement, special exclusive content and promotions!
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