What happens when a prince falls for the undercover agent pretending to be his bodyguard?
NicholasI’m the spare, the younger brother of the Prince of Wales. Ever since I was propelled up the order of succession, my job description has been: Exist. Don’t embarrass the Crown. Repeat.After a security scandal, I’m assigned a new bodyguard. A hulking, brooding Irishman who glowers at me like I’ve personally offended his ancestors. He’s the first to be completely immune to my charm, which is rather inconvenient when you’ve always wielded wit like a defensive weapon.
And why I feel the need to continue trying to impress Officer O’Connell is anyone’s guess.
My upcoming royal tour of Australia and New Zealand should be a nice chance to escape the British winter and bask in some Southern Hemisphere sunshine. But it turns out that representing the monarchy in former colonial countries means confronting some uncomfortable truths about how all those Crown Jewels ended up in my family’s vaults.
And the whole visit would really be far more enjoyable if someone wasn’t trying to kill me.
EoinI’ve clawed my way from the slums of Ireland to the top level of Scotland Yard’s undercover agents. But a deep security breach within the force has me investigating my own colleagues while playing bodyguard to a privileged prince on a tour Down Under.Something about Prince Nicholas gets under my skin like shrapnel I can’t dig out.
Still, I’m a professional. I can handle one posh git with a smart mouth.
But as we navigate koala cuddling sessions, didgeridoo lessons, and deadly spiders in hotel rooms, I see beneath Nicholas’s princely façade. I’m supposed to uncover which of my fellow bodyguards is a threat to Prince Nicholas, not become obsessed with the most complex, fascinating pain in my arse I’ve ever met.
The line between duty and desire blurs with each passing day and the danger to Nicholas intensifies.
How can I maintain my cover, protect Nicholas, and resist the urge to press him against the nearest wall and kiss that smirk off his face?
The Unlikely Spare is a royal romantic comedy/suspense featuring a party prince learning his place in the world and an undercover bodyguard with a chip on his shoulder. As threats escalate and attraction intensifies, both men must decide what they’re willing to risk—and what they’re willing to fight for.
EXCERPT:
A violent rustling erupts from a nearby thicket, and something bursts upward in an explosion of noise and movement, heading directly toward Nicholas’s face.
My training kicks in. Movement equals threat, threat equals action.
I launch forward, tackling Nicholas sideways. We hit the ground hard, my body curving protectively over his. One of my arms cradles the back of his head, preventing it from cracking against the frozen earth while my torso shields his. My free hand reaches instinctively for my weapon.
Only then do I register wings beating frantically above us.
Fuck.
Nicholas lies perfectly still beneath me, those winter-ocean eyes wide with shock. My face hovers inches from his, close enough to count individual eyelashes. His breath comes in short puffs, visible in the cold air between us.
For a few heartbeats, we simply stare at each other.
“That,” Nicholas says finally, voice strained, “was a partridge. Not an assassin.”
I’m suddenly acutely aware of every point where our bodies connect. My chest against his, my leg between his thighs, my hand still cradling his head.
His hair is soft, dark silk under my calloused palms. The scent of his cologne fills my nostrils, something crisp and woodsy. His pupils have dilated, black nearly swallowing that impossible blue.
His lips part, just a fraction, and fuck if I don’t track the movement like it matters.
Heat spreads from every point where we’re pressed together. A flush crawls up his neck. I know I should look away, but I can’t.
Why the hell can’t I drag my eyes away from this man’s face?
The dogs are circling us, the yellow retriever licking enthusiastically at Nicholas’s ear.
“I’d really appreciate it,” Nicholas continues in an icy tone, “if you could remove your elbow from my spleen.”
Fuck. I roll away from him, my knee sinking into the frozen mud with a squelch as I get to my feet.
Nicholas remains splayed on the ground, leaves tangled in his dark hair, a smudge of dirt across his cheek.
“We must stop this little trend of finding ourselves in compromising positions,” he says as he pushes himself up on his elbows. “At this rate, I’ll need to start charging you rent for all the time you spend in my personal space.”
Author Bio:
Jax's stories are all about light-hearted conversations and deeply-felt connections. She loves exploring exactly why two characters are the only ones who’ll make the other truly happy, and the journey they take to reach their happily-ever-after.
Jax lives in New Zealand and is a rabid sports fan, a hiking enthusiast and has a slightly unhealthy addiction to nature documentaries. As an extrovert who spends way too much time in her own head, she loves to connect with readers. Join her Facebook group Jax's Crew (www.facebook.com/groups/jaxcaldercrew) for bonus stories plus exclusive excerpts from her upcoming books.
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