I leaned back against the headboard, and lazily stroked my erection.
The only man she’d be fucking was me.
Help me choose my bride? Fuck that. I had four weeks until I was supposed to marry, and I’d be damned if it was anyone but Charlotte Carlisle. The woman who had been my brother’s. The woman I’d spent years pushing away with snide comments and affairs I’d flaunted openly, hoping to put even more space between us, only to hate that I’d succeeded. The woman who loved me like a brother, and didn’t mind my antics as long as they didn’t involve her.
Yes, that Charlotte Carlisle.
I should let her go, take her up on her offer to find another aristocrat to be my bride. Give her the freedom she’d more than earned with the shitshow she’d just been put through. But I couldn’t. Because I was a selfish, arrogant asshole, and while I was aware that she merely tolerated me for my brother’s sake, and generally despised everything about me, I couldn’t let her go.
I’d been in love with her since we were children.
Now I just had to make her fall in love with me.
In four weeks.
I was so royally fucked.
Coming October 2017
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About the Author
Samantha Whiskey is a wife, mom, lover of her dogs and romance novels. No stranger to hockey, hot alpha males, and a high dose of awkwardness, she tucks herself away to write books her PTA will never know about.
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The Crown: A Modern-Day Fairytale Romance Page 20
