Colliding with a prince while walking four dogs isn’t how Rowan Palotay pictured meeting royalty, but then lately her life hasn’t gone according to plan. With one teensy tiny mistake, her job as a news reporter took a turn for the worse and now she’s lucky to have a small pet column in the local newspaper. Christmas is supposed to be a time of joy and magic, but she feels like she’s forever stuck on the naughty list.Prince Theodore Chenery is in Marietta shortly after the death of his mother to meet his grandparents for the first time. When an accidental run-in—literally—with Rowan leads to an unexpected friendship, he finds himself enchanted with the outspoken, feisty country girl. She’s unlike anyone he’s ever met and her special brand of kindness and honesty make it harder and harder to keep temptation away.
Giving into the passion and deep-rooted emotions between them, Theo and Rowan discover what matters most. But when their relationship makes worldwide news, Theo must decide whether or not to follow his heart or his royal duty.
“You okay?” the prince asked.
“I’m fine,” Rowan said, pressing her shoulders back and raising her chin. “I’ve been hit with hundreds of snowballs.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“You strike me as good target practice.”
She had no idea what to make of that comment. What a rude thing to say to someone who’d— “I just saved you from getting nailed by two snowballs and that’s what you say to me? Kind of insulting, don’t you think?”
“You don’t even know me.”
“And for your information”—she almost said “bucko” but caught herself—“it’s an honor to have been hit by so many snowballs growing up here. You don’t get snow where you’re from, so you wouldn’t know.” He came from a small state along the Mediterranean coastline known for its beaches and yacht-lined harbor, and where the sun reigned supreme year round.
“May I speak now?”
“If you must.”
That earned her another arch of his brows. She’d probably be arrested for speaking so disrespectfully to him if they were in Montanique. But this was her home turf and he didn’t get to say whatever he pleased. Manners went both ways no matter who you were.
“I meant it would be fun aiming for you.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. That still sounded kind of harsh. Even though she was fun. “As opposed to aiming for…?”
“I’m still not sure what—”
“It was a compliment, Miss Palotay.”
She shifted her feet. Okay, so maybe this meant he wasn’t holding this morning’s incident against her. “Call me Rowan.”
“Call me Theo.”
“Really?” She’d called him that in her head, but out loud was something entirely different.
“It’s what my friends call me.”
“Are we friends?”
“You are wanting in my pants.”
She threw her arms up in the air. He wasn’t serious. “What? I do not.”
“You don’t want to take my pants to be cleaned?” His calm, casual tone irked her. Rowan bet nothing ruffled this man, or gave him pause. Confidence and poise rolled off him like a summer breeze in the middle of winter.
“That’s not what you said. You said I wanted in your pants.”
“You must have misheard me.” The small, entirely too charming, curve of his lips told her she had not misheard him at all, and he enjoyed teasing her.
Two could play that game. “That’s too bad. I’m very good inside men’s pants.
About the Author
When not attached to her laptop, USA Today Bestselling Author Robin Bielman can almost always be found with her nose in a book. A California girl, the beach is her favorite place for fun and inspiration. Her fondness for swoon-worthy heroes who flirt and stumble upon the girl they can’t live without jumpstarts all of her story ideas.
She is a 2014 RITA Finalist, loves to frequent coffee shops, and plays a mean game of sock tug of war with her cute, but often naughty dog, Harry. She cherishes her family and friends and loves to connect with readers. Get the scoop on Robin, her books, and sign up for her newsletter on her website at http://robinbielman.com.