This Cinderella didn’t plan on a prince . . .
Kat MacTaggart is a girl who has a plan for everything—including her holiday ski trip to Monterra with her best friend. Everything is going according to plan until she finds herself careening out of control down a mountainside and being rescued by a guy who looks like Superman’s hotter Italian cousin.
HRH Prince Nico is intrigued by the woman he saved on the slopes and her refusal to date him. He offers Kat a deal—let him show her his country and he’ll pay her to write articles that will help Monterra’s tourism industry. Kat agrees, but given her past and lingering distrust of men, she has one condition—absolutely no kissing.
Thanks to the claims of a jealous British noblewoman and the schemes of a meddling paparazzo, Kat’s rule doesn’t seem to be a problem at first. But the more Kat gets to know Nico and the people around him, the harder it is to remember her keep-your-distance plan. Should she stick to it or risk everything for a chance at happily ever after?
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The sun had just barely started to rise when I woke up. I had a small moment of disorientation, not sure where I was or what was going on. I quickly remembered because Nico had shifted at some point in the night and was lying on his side, facing me. He still had his arms wrapped around me, and our legs were intertwined. I had never been this physically close to someone. My nerves were hyperaware and sensitive at every point where our bodies made contact. And there were a lot of contact points.
Our faces were practically touching. A low, steady thud started in the base of my stomach, and my blood sizzled and snapped.
“I could get used to this,” he murmured, his eyes still closed.
“What?” My voice sounded stupid.
He opened his eyes, and his piercing blue gaze turned the thudding into drumming. “Waking up every morning with you in my arms.”
“I thought you said you had insomnia.”
“I do. Last night was the best night’s sleep I’ve had in I don’t know how long.” He started tracing patterns on my back with his fingers, running them up and down, making me cold and hot at the same time. “It seems I’ll just have to fall asleep with you every night if I ever want to sleep that well again.”
“If I was with you every night, we both know there would be no sleeping going on.” It was probably one of the boldest things I’d ever said.
He gave me a lazy grin. “That’s true.”
Then his fingers were in my hair, and I stretched into it like a purring cat, wanting more. I closed my eyes for a second, reveling in the sensations. I tightened my hold on him, without even realizing it. I only knew I wanted to be closer to him.
His fingers stilled, and I opened my eyes to look at him. He was staring at my face. It was more than a little disconcerting. “What are you looking at?”
“I’m counting your freckles.”
I put my hands over my nose. “Don’t do that.”
“I hate my freckles.”
“They’re adorable.” He moved my hands and kissed the bridge of my nose. He was lucky I didn’t actually spontaneously combust and set us both on fire. “You’re adorable. Beautiful.”
I glanced off to the side, not able to endure the intensity of his gaze.. My pulse skittered wildly.
I looked back at him, studying him in return. He hadn’t pressured me or made me feel dumb or dumped me or anything that I expected a man to do if I told him I wouldn’t kiss him. He had respected me. Spoiled me beyond belief. Wooed me with his words and his actions. Had proved himself reliable and worthy of my trust in every way.
And my affection.
I closed the small distance between us and said, “Thank you...”
Then I kissed him.
He pulled back, looking serious. “Does this mean . . . ?” His question trailed off.
Sariah Wilson has never jumped out of an airplane, never climbed Mt. Everest, and is not a former CIA operative. She has, however, been madly, passionately in love with her soulmate and is a fervent believer in happily ever afters--which is why she writes romance. She has published five happily ever after stories. She grew up in southern California, graduated from Brigham Young University (go Cougars!) with a semi-useless degree in history, and is the oldest of nine (yes, nine) children. She currently lives with the aforementioned soulmate and their four children in Utah, along with three tiger barb fish, a cat named Tiger, and a recently departed hamster that is buried in the backyard (and has nothing at all to do with tigers).