Iâd been to too many formal dinners and luncheons to count. Iâd attended ones with dozens of foreign dignitaries, politicians, and other royals. Iâd met people whoâd been so obvious about gaining my familyâs favor that Iâd felt slimy afterward. Iâd seen prime ministers whoâd not understood royal protocol, even one being so obtuse as to take my motherâs hand and shake it, which was not at all the thing.But all of those events paled in comparison to this informal family dinner my parents, my wife, and I were suffering through. Conversation was stilted, the sounds of eating and drinking filling the silences.My father sat at the head of the table as protocol dictated, my mother to his left. I sat at his right, while Niamh sat next to me. More than once, Iâd caught Niamhâs gaze, wanting to apologize for the awkwardness. Sheâd merely wrinkled her nose at me and bit back a smile.I couldnât help but notice that my mother seemed thinner than normal. She barely touched her food
I didnât have time to wallow in my frustration with my parents for long. After the arduous dinner was finally over, it took all of five minutes for Niamh to come bursting into my room without even a knock.I was in the process of unbuttoning my shirt when Niamh opened the door to the adjoining room. I cocked an eyebrow at her.âDid you need something, wife?âShe didnât take the bait. âI canât find the cat or the kittens. Iâve looked everywhere.âConsidering how large the palace was, I doubted sheâd truly looked everywhere. Just thinking about where those cats couldâve gone gave me an instant headache.âIâm sure theyâre fine,â I said. âArenât cats self-sufficient?ââIâm just worried they got outside. What if something happens to them?ââThey were born outside. Theyâd probably be happier out there.âNiamh growled, frustration marring her features. âI know you donât care about the cats, but Iâm not about to let them get hurt after bringing them here. Besides, it wouldnât be good i
Rain pattered against the window. It was an oddly cold, blustery day for late summer. Normally, the windows would be wide open, the palace tending toward being stuffy and hot.The closed window made me feel confined. Or perhaps it was that I was having to have this conversation with my motherâagain.âThere have been reports of rumors circulating online about my true parentage,â I said as I stared out the window. âApparently, the rumors have increased since my marriage.âMy mother, sitting across from me and sipping tea, merely shrugged. âWhen have we not had rumors floating around about us? Thatâs nothing new, nor nothing to worry about.ââPerhaps, but rumors have a way of becoming truth online if youâre not careful.âMy mother didnât seem concerned. Sheâd never been one for technology. She disliked computers, and found the idea of social media distasteful. Although she was hardly in her dotage, she preferred to act as though the world wide web simply didnât exist.âConside
I waved a hand in front of Niamhâs face. âAre your eyes really closed?ââYes! I swear theyâre closed.âI took her hand, leading her forward, anticipation making me nearly giddy. Iâd been racking my brain to think of something that would make Niamh happy. Although she seemed happier than when weâd first married, I could still see that she missed her family, her friends, her country.âOkay, a few more steps,â I said.âWhy do I smell motor oil?âI nearly huffed in exasperation. Leave it to my wife to ruin her own surprise.âOpen your eyes,â I said.Niamh opened her eyes, blinking for a few moments as she took in the scene before her.âItâs a car,â she said slowly.âVery good. Now, can you tell me what kind of car it is?âShe rolled her eyes. âI bet I know more about it than you do.â She took a tentative step forward. âCan IâŠ?ââItâs yours.âHer eyes widened. âYouâre not seriously giving me a Bugatti. Youâre fucking with me. This is some prank show and Ashton
It was early hours when I awoke. Rain was falling softly against the window. Yawning, I glanced at the clock: five a.m. I wouldnât need to be awake for another two hours.I considered going back to sleep, but then Niamh opened her eyes. She stared up at me, her gaze hazy, like she wasnât sure who I was.âBonjour,â I said, brushing a few strands of hair from her forehead.She yawned widely. âWhat time is it? Oh God, itâs way too early to be awake.â She turned over and hugged a pillow closely. âWake me up at a reasonable hour.ââSo, noon?ââI donât sleep in that late.ââOh, then eleven a.m.âI could hear her rolling her eyes. I slung an arm over her waist, capturing her hand in mine. I kissed her ear then blew a raspberry against her shoulder.âGo away! Youâre annoying.â She pushed me away, albeit half-heartedly. Our struggle soon devolved into a wrestle match that I won within ten seconds.My wife now pinned beneath me, I had both of her wrists in my grip. âYou were
The press office in the palace was moving faster than Iâd ever seen it. Along with the coterie of lawyers the palace had on hand, everyone was working tirelessly to stop Connor Gallagher from making good on his threats.Despite his threats, there wasnât enough to arrest him, considering he didnât threaten my life or anyone elseâs. Threatening to release information, or photos that we had no proof heâd taken, wasnât enough for the police. And he hadnât trespassed on palace grounds when heâd been admitted after demanding to see me.And where was Connor Gallagher, while not lurking about the palace? No one knew. He was a slippery figure, to say the least. We had private detectives searching Saint Henri, trying to find anyone whoâd seen an Irishman of middling height and build. It wasnât as though there were masses of Irishman here in Salasia. He should stick out like a sore thumb.Yet as far as I knew, Connor was smart enough to lay low for the next two weeks.âCanât we just hav
In the flurry of engagements we had scheduled, I nearly forgot about Connorâs threats. Laurent updated me with any pertinent information regarding the palaceâs investigation and plans, but more often than not, there wasnât much information to convey.The palace had managed to contact Connor and to pressure him to give up on his plans, threatening serious legal consequences should he publish anything that would damage the reputation of the royal family. Publishing something truly libelous would result in steep fines and potential expulsion from Salasia itself.But when the two weeks passed and nothing happenedâno photos published, no stories leakedâI felt like a could take a deep breath. When a third week passed without incident, it seemed as though Connor had decided that it wasnât worth facing the strength of the palaceâs lawyers to get his money.Now, Niamh and I were welcoming a group of doctors, nurses, and other medical professionals to the palace as a thank-you for
The scandal of the photos exploded. Not only was it late in the summer and there was little news for the media to publish, but Iâd always known that a certain percentage of the public had been waiting for Niamh to screw up like this.Iâd hoped that there would be more sympathy, but when Laurent showed me multiple news stories blaming Niamh for being topless on her honeymoon, I had to tell him to stop showing them to me.As for Niamh, sheâd begun to sleep in her bedroom again. When Iâd knocked on her door the evening after the revelation, sheâd refused to talk to me. Iâd had to bribe Celia to get a note to my wife, as she wasnât answering calls or texts, either.I couldnât sleep. Iâd gotten used to Niamh sleeping beside me, the way she hogged the bedcovers, or how she tended to sprawl across the bed and take up more than three-quarters of it. Iâd often end up sleeping on the edge of the mattress. But I hadnât minded, because sheâd been in bed with me, and any discomfort was wor
A coffee addict and cat lover, USA Today bestselling author Iris Morland writes sparkling, swoon-worthy romances, including the Flower Shop Sisters and the Love Everlasting series.If she's not reading or writing, she enjoys binging on Netflix shows and cooking something delicious.Sign up for my newsletter to stay up-to-date with new releases, sales, and exclusive giveaways! Facebook Twitter BookBub Goodreads Instagram
The Prince I Love to HateThe Princess I Hate to LoveSay Youâre MineAll I Ask of YouMake Me YoursHold Me CloseWar of the RosesPetal PluckerHe Loves Me, He Loves Me NotOopsie DaisyincludingThen Came YouTaking a Chance on LoveAll I Want Is YouMy One and OnlyThe Nearness of YouThe Very Thought of YouIf I Canât Have YouDream a Little Dream of MeSomeone to Watch Over MeTill There Was YouIâll Be Home for Christmas
The moment I woke up after my best friendâs raucous bachelorette party in Las Vegas, I realized two things in quick succession:To my horror, the man had his arm slung across me, and it weighed at least a thousand pounds, I was sure. My bladder yelled profanities at me as I pushed at the ridiculously heavy arm trapping me against the bed.Finally, he turned over, taking his arm with him. I shuffled to the bathroom and didnât feel the panic hit me until after Iâd peed and saw the ring on my left hand.Ring. Left hand. I didnât wear a ring there anymore since Iâd caught my ex-fiancĂ© cheating on me. Iâd thrown the ring David had bought me in his face.This ring wasnât that diamond David had gotten me. I peered more closely at it. It wasâplastic? Was it from a ring pop?Did I call the police? No, that was stupid. 911, I got married last night to a stranger. Yeah, thatâd go over well. I was sure the Vegas police would just laugh and tell us to get a lawyer.I heard movement in the roo
Once upon a time, a prince married a girl who didnât want to marry him. Their marriage was rocky, and the prince realized that, if he was going to keep his new princess by his side, heâd have to make the ultimate sacrifice.The princess, touched by his generosity, accepted his heart, and he hers.I never thought Iâd have a fairy tale romance. I might be a prince, but they were fairy tales for a reason.Niamh, of course, had proven me wrong entirely about that.Five years after weâd married, the palace held a ball to celebrate the coronation of me and my princess as the new reigning sovereigns. My parents had decided to abdicate, feeling that their time in the spotlight had come to an end.âWeâre going to be late,â I said to Laurent. We were waiting for Niamh and company to arrive for our grand entrance into the ballroom.âI heard something about a âkitten explosion,â Your Highness,â replied Laurent gravely.âI donât even want to know what that means.âWith only a minute t
It was a strange time to be alive when I found myself barred from entering my wifeâs estate by a tiny slip of a maid.âShe doesnât want to see you,â the maid said in a heavy Irish accent. âShe explicitly told me not to let you inside.âThe butler, a granite-faced man who couldâve been thirty or seventy, stood behind the maid and nodded.âI need to speak with her,â I repeated slowly. âItâs urgent.âThe maid just shook her head. âIâm sorry. Itâs not possibleâYour Highness.âAnd then a door was shut in my face. Me, a prince, heir to the throne of Salasia. I had to admit that had never happened before. People tended to open doors for me, not close them.Then again, Niamh had done the same thing to me multiple times now. Clenching my jaw, I went to gaze out at the vast Irish Sea, the sea air cool against my face.I didnât understand why Niamh was literally shutting me out. Had the maid even told her I was here, in Dublin, begging to see her? Did she want me to climb some trelli
Niamh refused to speak with me for the next two days. On the third day, I used the same trick Iâd used on our wedding night to enter her bedroom.Only to find my wife nowhere in sight.Celia startled when she saw me. She immediately mumbled something and tried to hurry away, but I stopped her.âWhere is my wife?âCeliaâs gaze was everywhere except on my face. âI donât know, Your Highness,â she nearly whispered.âYou donât know or you wonât tell me?âCelia looked like she going to burst into tears. âSir, she forbade me from telling you. She made me swear on my motherâs grave.ââDidnât you just visit your mother two weeks ago?âCeliaâs chin wobbled. âItâs still very upsetting to think about!â She added quickly, âSir.âI approached her slowly, rather like you would a deer that was close to bolting. âYou need to tell me where she is. What if something happens to her and I couldnât get her help?ââOh, when you put it like thatâŠââShe can be angry with me, not you. Iâll take
That night, I knocked on Niamhâs bedroom door and waited. It felt so reminiscent of our wedding night that I almost expected her to tell me to go away.This time, though, she opened the door and leaned against the mantel with a questioning look. She was wearing a nightgown and nothing else, the silk strap falling down her shoulder. Her hair was down; it had grown nearly to her waist since weâd married. I wanted to wrap it around my hands as I plunged inside her.âDid you need something?â She was smiling a little.âYou,â I said simply.âWell, thatâs very to the point.â She glanced over her shoulder at her bed. âI was reading a book, you know. I was just about to get to the part where they bone.âI wrapped an arm around her waist. âYou could get a good boning right now.âShe laughed. âTrĂ©s romantique!ââDid you want romance? I can go send Laurent for a bouquet of flowers. Champagne, chocolates, the works.ââHave you ever sent him to get you a box of condoms? Now Iâm curious.ââT
âDo you know how to ride?â I asked Liam.âA horse? Fuck no.âI rolled my eyes. I was tempted to ride Juliette back and let Liam fend for himself, but Niamh wouldnât be too happy about that, no matter how angry she was with her brother.And of course, Niamh and Mari had driven back, leaving us stranded.âThen I guess weâll have to walk back,â I said.Liam shot me a dark look. âIâm not walking back with you.ââDo you even know how to get there? Because if you get lost and slowly starve to death in the forest, I wonât be upset about it.ââI have a fucking phone.â When Liam pulled out his phone to discover that service was spotty out here, he cursed. And cursed. And then cursed again.It would be funny, if I werenât bruised and if it werenât still hard to breathe. It would be funny, if my wife werenât angry with me and probably building a guillotine with my name on it right this moment.âWe could ask for a ride,â I said, âbut considering we just made poor Francois weep
In desperate need of keeping my mind off of the disaster that was my marriage, I randomly decided one morning to go riding. I hadnât spent much time with any of the horses in some years, as my princely duties took up more and more of my leisure time.Iâd always enjoyed riding as a child. After the debacle when Iâd ridden off and gotten lost for hours as a child, though, Iâd stopped riding. It had soured the sport for me, and then life had taken hold and Iâd stopped entirely.My mare, Juliette, nickered softly as we started down the lane that led to a trail that meandered through a forested area five kilometers outside Saint Henri. It was a beautiful, late summer day. With the dappled sunshine following just me and my horse, I could almost imagine everything was fine.I could almost imagine that my wife was speaking to me. That there werenât dozens of stories, online and in print, about those titillating photos of her bare breasts. That there werenât other stories about how my parent