Royal Rogue: A Sexy Royal Romance (Flings With Kings Book 3) Read online

  It only made me love him more. Because he wasn’t trying to be something he was not. Wasn’t trying to play it cool when it was clear he felt quite uncool. He was just embracing the moment, as complicated and weird and awesome as it was.

  It took every ounce of willpower not to pounce on him right there and then.

  One of the many things I’d learned being with Charlie was that there were layers to love. When the initial rush of pheromones and constant sex faded a little—I mean, we were still having constant sex, but that was neither here nor there—I discovered there was this contented, mellowed-out adoration underneath it. And underneath that was this fun, funny friendship. Underneath that, something else. The layers were all different but still the same somehow. Still all based on the fact that I chose him every day, and he chose me.

  The real him.

  The real me.

  It wasn’t always bliss. But at the end of the day it was always just us. Me and Charlie in the kitchen, in the garden, on a plane somewhere.

  And that, more than anything else, felt right.

  “We should get some pink balloons,” Charlie said as we were walking out of the hospital. “Tie them to Rob and Aly’s front door.”

  I turned my head to look at him. Of course he wanted to do something sweet and cute and thoughtful like that.

  His eyes met mine. He slowed his stride. “What? You’re looking at me funny.”

  “Let’s get those balloons,” I said. “But after that, let’s go home. I kind of feel like making a baby with you.”

  Those blue eyes of his lit up with surprise. And then, a beat later, the corners of his lips twitched into a small grin of disbelief.

  “Shouldn’t we get married first?”

  I honestly didn’t care whether Charlie and I were married or not. I’d been down that road before. Marriage didn’t guarantee a happy ending.

  But I knew my grandmother would care. So would my brothers.

  So would Charlie. He was a romantic at heart.

  He’d made me a romantic. And I loved him so damn much for it.

  I stopped. Stepped forward.

  “Then marry me,” I said, taking his hands.

  His eyebrows snapped together. Like he couldn’t quite decide if I was joking or not.

  “I mean it,” I continued. “I want to marry you, Charlie.”

  “Jane. We’ve been together for, what, seven months?”

  “Seven months, two weeks, and fourteen days. Not that I’m counting,” I said with a shrug. “Look. If the timeline bothers you, we can make it a long engagement. I’ll tell the Queen we want to get married next spring or something. Either way, I want to be with you, I want to make babies with you. I want you.”

  He was looking at me funny now. “Did you plan this?”

  “Not at all,” I said.

  It was the truth. I hadn’t planned on proposing to Charlie in the hallway of a hospital on a frosty January morning. But now that I thought about it, the whole thing was kind of perfect. It was all happening on my terms. I was doing the proposing. I was making the decision.

  I was in the driver’s seat. Doing what I wanted. Making my dreams come true. It wasn’t fancy. Wasn’t some grand gesture.

  But that’s what made it perfect. That’s what made it us.

  I didn’t flinch. Didn’t hold back.

  Neither did Charlie.

  “Marry me,” I repeated.

  He looked at me for another beat.

  Then: “Hell. Yes.”

  Slipping his hands onto my face, he pulled me into a hard, deep kiss.

  I smiled against his lips. Bloody hell, the man could kiss.

  A kiss I’d get to enjoy for the rest of my life.

  Thank you so much for reading ROYAL ROGUE! I hope you enjoyed Charlie and Jane’s story. Please don’t forget to leave a review! Reviews help readers find new authors like me.

  Be sure to check out the other books in the FLINGS WITH KINGS series. Each can absolutely be read as a standalone!

  Royal Ruin (Flings With Kings #1)

  Royal Rebel (Flings With Kings #2)

  I do have plans for Jack’s book, although I can’t say when I’ll actually get around to writing it. In the meantime, keep reading for a super sexy excerpt from ROYAL RUIN. This is Kit and Emily’s story, and it is HOT!

  If you’ve already read all my royal books (thank you!), you can move on to my steamy STUDY ABROAD series next.

  I’d love to keep in touch! Here are a few ways to reach me:

  Become a City Girl by joining my reader group on Facebook! We have lots of fun and hope you’ll join us for book talk, real talk, and giveaways galore.

  Like my Facebook Author Page

  Drop me a line at [email protected]

  Follow me on Instagram @jessicapauthor

  Also by Jessica Peterson

  THE FLINGS WITH KINGS SERIES

  Royal. Ridiculously Hot. Totally Off Limits…

  Available for FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

  Royal Ruin (Flings With Kings #1)

  Royal Rebel (Flings With Kings #2)

  THE STUDY ABROAD SERIES

  Studying Abroad Just Got a Whole Lot Sexier…

  A Series of Sexy Interconnected Standalone Romances

  Read Them All for FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

  Spanish Lessons (Study Abroad #1)

  Lessons in Gravity (Study Abroad #2)

  Lessons in Letting Go (Study Abroad #3)

  Lessons in Losing It (Study Abroad #4)

  Acknowledgments

  My life as an author has really cracked open over the past year. This book exists because of the incredible, generous, wicked smart indie community I’ve become a part of, and I cannot thank you all enough for your time, guidance, and general badass-ness.

  Huge shout out to my editor, Kristin Anders, and my cover artist, Noelle Pierce. You have both been with me for a while now, and I so appreciate all the work you’ve put into my books. Thanks to my copy editor Tandy for doing such a thorough—and quick!—job. THANK YOU.

  Another shout out to my incredible right hand woman, Jodi. I’m not joking when I say meeting you has changed my life. You’re fucking fabulous at what you do, and I’m lucky to have you on my team. THANK YOU.

  I had an absolutely amazing beta team for this book, which shows! Thank you Jodi, Quinn, Heather, and Julia for your insightful and invaluable feedback on Jane and Charlie’s story. I’m seriously getting choked up as I write this, because you guys so generously took the time to help me make this book the best it can possibly be. You ladies push me to be a better writer. THANK YOU.

  I’ve really focused on building my reader group, Jessica Peterson’s City Girls, this year. I wouldn’t be able to do it without the help of my amazing admins, Jodi and Monique, and my equally amazing moderators Raquel, Ingrid, and Whitney. I love you gals to bits, and so appreciate all the time, energy, and effort you put into the City Girls. My life is infinitely better with you all in it! THANK YOU.

  I also want to thank all of the authors I’ve been lucky enough to get to know over the past year. The indie author community is SUCH a supportive, wonderful, amazing place, and I’m so humbled by your support. Maria, Arell, Lucy, Kathryn, Mika, Kelsey, Sophia, Whitney, Dylan, Pippa, Auden, Bobby, Jamie…the list goes on. I’m the luckiest girl on the planet to have you all as my village. THANK YOU.

  Thanks, too, to my amazing ARC team. Specifically Joyce and Tammy. You ladies have supported me from the beginning, and it does not go unnoticed how you often you sing my praises. You are both an absolute joy to be around. THANK YOU.

  Finally, huge thanks to my family and friends—Benji especially. I wouldn’t be where I am today without you. Thanks for always supporting my salacious romance novel dreams. I love you.

  ROYAL RUIN Excerpt

  Excerpt from ROYAL RUIN, book #1 in the FLINGS WITH KINGS series!

  Part One

  Ten Years Ago—December

  London,
England

  Chapter One

  Emily

  I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I thought you should know. Your boyfriend’s been cheating on you. I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one. I’m so sorry.

  I stared at the email, reading it for the thousandth time. Part of me still didn’t believe the love of my life had cheated on me. This year had been hard on my relationship with Luke, sure. Five thousand miles had separated us over the past six months. I was studying abroad in London, while Luke was back at Meryton University in North Carolina.

  But when I’d confronted Luke three days ago, he’d confessed to messing up. The girl who’d sent me the email was “an old friend” of his. They’d been out late with a bunch of friends drinking. One thing led to another.

  Luke said it was a mistake. Swore it only happened once. He’d cried—literally cried—while I shouted at him on the phone. He was genuinely remorseful. But I’d been too gutted to forgive him. Luke was my first everything. First boyfriend. First guy I’d ever slept with. I still had to pinch myself sometimes that such a cute and charismatic guy would want a nerdy, bookish girl like me.

  I missed him like crazy. Missed the way he’d twine his fingers around mine when we held hands. He’d do this thing where he’d press our hands together, palm to palm, and I’d look up and always catch him smiling at me. It was stupid, but it made me so damn happy.

  I hadn’t wanted to be away from him like this for so long. But I’d dreamed of studying abroad since high school. My mom, an architect, had fostered my obsession with all things design for as long as I could remember. I wanted to open my own interior design firm when I graduated. I figured learning how to start and run your own business at one of the top business schools in the world—The London School of Economics—was a smart idea.

  So here I was, fighting back tears as I waited outside Mr. Thorne’s office. He was my TA—short for Teacher’s Assistant—and he’d requested this meeting after I’d bombed an exam earlier this week. I’d never gotten below a 98 on any assignment in his class, so this was definitely out of the ordinary for me.

  He was right to call me in. Mr. Thorne and I had gotten pretty friendly over the semester, bonding over our dorky shared interest in balance sheets and marketing strategies. Still, I was dreading this meeting. I hadn’t slept in days. And I was really starting to regret the things I’d said to Luke on the phone. I didn’t know if we’d broken up or what. I’d ended the call by hanging up on him; I hadn’t heard from him since. But now all I could think about was talking to him again. Trying to maybe make things right.

  I still hated Luke for what he’d done. But I was also so, so in love with him. You couldn’t just make that kind of love go away on demand. At least I couldn’t. People made mistakes. There was a chance we could come back from this. There had to be.

  “Miss Kilpatrick.”

  I started, slamming my laptop shut. I looked up to see Mr. Thorne standing in the doorway to his office. Something about his cut glass British accent gave his voice a deep, authoritative edge.

  Or maybe the edge was there on account of him being a prince.

  At the London School of Economics, Mr. Thorne may have been just another lowly assistant. He led the Friday morning section for my marketing class. But outside our little bubble of academia, he was Prince Christopher Louis James Henry Thorne (known popularly as Prince Kit), the Queen of England’s grandson and third in line to the throne.

  Maybe it was the American in me, but I wasn’t as awed by his royal status as everyone else at school seemed to me. His security detail popped into class every so often, sure. And he did rock his tailored suits in a way only a prince could. But to me, he was just another TA—albeit a very handsome one.

  Mr. Thorne was impeccably dressed, as always, in a suit and tie. Impeccably put together. His thick blond hair was carefully parted. He slid his hands underneath his jacket and put them in his pockets. His bright blue eyes were wide with concern as they moved over my face.

  He tilted his head toward his office. When he spoke, his voice was softer. “Please, come in.”

  My throat closed in. Shit. Why did people being nice to me when I was upset only make me want to cry harder?

  I took a deep breath. As much as I didn’t want to be here right now, I did need to talk with Mr. Thorne about the exam. Explain myself. I’m not sure heartbreak qualified as a credible excuse, but there had to be a way to keep one exam from tanking my grade for the semester.

  Best to just rip the band aid off. Tucking my laptop into my bag, I stood and walked into Mr. Thorne’s office. As I passed him, the familiar smell of his skin filled my head—a mix of lemon and spice. The scent was too clean to be cologne. I’d decided a while ago it had to be some kind of aftershave. Very delicious, and probably very expensive, aftershave.

  A whisper of awareness caught between my legs, like it always did when I got close to him. I’d gotten really great at ignoring it. Of course I’d never acted on it. I had a boyfriend. But the attraction was there. And for some reason, today it was harder to ignore. Maybe my body’s way of getting back at Luke.

  Whatever. I just wanted to get this meeting done. Ten minutes, max, and then I could get out of here and drown my sorrows in a pint of mint chocolate chip.

  Kit

  I closed the door behind me, and watched Miss Kilpatrick sink into the chair in front of my desk. Her bag fell off her shoulder onto the floor. Her face was drawn. Pale. Her eyes, usually luminous, were swollen.

  My hands curled into fists inside my pockets. I’d known the moment I started grading her exam that something was off. But nothing could have prepared me for just how defeated she looked today. How different from her usual self.

  Seeing her hurt made me hurt, too. Which was a bad fucking sign.

  I stepped in front of my desk and leaned the backs of my legs against it, crossing my ankles. “I’ll get right to it. You failed the exam, Miss Kilpatrick. Considering you didn’t miss a single question on the last one, I’m concerned. What’s going on?”

  The sinews of her throat worked as she swallowed. My body lit up with a familiar, blaring awareness of hers, like I’d been doused in petrol and she’d just lit a match. I smelled the trace of perfume on her skin. Wondered at the fullness of her lips. Realized just how close she was, an arm’s length—less than that—away.

  Stop. I had to stop thinking about her like this. It was a losing battle. But it was a war I had to wage nonetheless.

  “Please talk to me,” I said. “You know you can talk to me, right? Nothing leaves this office.”

  “I know,” she replied, looking away.

  “I won’t let my best student slip. Not when we’re so close to the end of the semester. I’ve done the math. As long as you get a 90 percent on the final, you should still get an A in the class, even with this exam grade. But I want to make sure that 90 is going to happen.”

  “Best student?” She managed a tight smile. “Liar.”

  I grinned. “Don’t play coy with me, Miss Kilpatrick. Together you and I teach this class. We teach my students how to think. Don’t you see that?”

  She swallowed again. “Yeah,” she said hoarsely. “I do.”

  “So tell me what’s wrong. Are you okay? Are your parents okay?”

  That got her attention. Her eyes snapped to meet mine.

  “My parents? They’re fine. It’s just—” She rolled her lips between her teeth. She looked away again. Then she abruptly stood, crossing her arms as she turned to look out the window. Turning again, she moved behind her chair and, uncrossing her arms, curled her fingers around its back. We were standing close now. I’d never seen her fidget like this.

  She leaned forward, making her braid hang down over her neck. I was seized by the wild idea of taking that braid in my fingers. Running my fingers along its silken length.

  “Luke—you know, my boyfriend—”

  “I know.” My pulse skipped. “You’ve talked about him before.”
And I’ve hated every minute of it.

  Emily nodded. “Well. Turns out he’s been cheating on me while I’ve been away.”

  My heart stuttered. Excitement? Fuck, I hoped it wasn’t excitement I felt. First of all, being excited about Emily’s boyfriend hurting her like this was a total dick move. And second of all, I could not touch this girl. No matter how much I wanted to.

  I don’t know when I’d started to fall for Emily. I’d fought it, I did. But no matter how hard I tried to keep my distance, she always managed to work her way past my defenses. Maybe it was her liveliness. She was an enthusiastic participant in class. When she was at the board with me—which was more often than not—her green eyes would light up, and she’d chew on her bottom lip, one side of her mouth pulling into a grin when she knew she’d hit on something good.

  Maybe it was the way she spoke to me like I was just a normal bloke. There was no pretense with her. No pretending. I bloody loved our debates. The conversations we’d have after class about everything and anything. I felt like I’d made a true friend for the first time in forever.

  I don’t know what it was, exactly, that made me want Emily Kilpatrick the way I did. But I wanted her all the same. Even though there wasn’t a chance in hell we could be together. Relationships between staff and students were strictly forbidden by the department. But more than that, Emily was not royal material. At least not according to my uncle, Prince Carlton, a stickler for old school rules. And his opinion mattered, because unless the Queen named my father as her heir—which was unlikely—Carlton would be king one day. He believed we needed to be with people like us. British people, who came from a certain class and station in life.