Royally Kissed

Taking the bull by the horns is child's play compared to ruling Malveaux. Yet here I am, a Texas girl turned princess, swapping tacos for a tiara. Then I meet Europe's most eligible bachelor, the irritatingly handsome Prince Alexander, and accidentally deck him instead of curtsying. Oops. I'd feel bad if he wasn't such a self-satisfied jerk. Now, I'm racing against a royal clock that ticks with the urgency of a preening peacock, trying not to let down my newfound country or my own wild heart. Alexander?

I've got 99 problems, and picking the wrong guy might be all of them. I've always had my royal checklist: Attend the Husband Hunting Ball? Check. Find the perfect match for a princess like me? Check. Feel zero sparks with Mr. Right (aka Enzo Revera)? Sadly, double check. But then I meet Marco, Enzo's charming and rugged brother. He's everything I shouldn't want, especially since I've planned my life to avoid the messiness of love. When a twist of fate puts Marco at my side, I can't deny our chemistry, even if he's all wrong for a princess like me.

Being a princess means living by 1200+ rules—I've counted them all in my leather-bound journal—including Rule #124: "No climbing trees" and Rule #592: "A princess must never leave the palace without security detail." So when I swap my tiara for a goth disguise and escape the palace for a grand adventure as "Amy," I'm breaking every royal protocol imaginable. Hiding from paparazzi, I meet a gorgeous American stranger who's also on the run.

He needs a royal redemption arc. She needs to keep her distance. The public wants a story, preferably a romantic one. I called him Ledonia's most eligible man-child in a headline. Now I'm living at his palace. After my no-holds-barred exposé on Prince Maximilien goes viral, the royal family doesn't banish me—they hire me. Apparently, the King and Queen think damage control looks like me filming an exclusive behind-the-scenes series on their charming, cocky, scandal-prone son. Prince Max isn't thrilled. In fact, he downright despises me. Which is fine. Because the feeling? Entirely mutual.