CROWN
CHASER, KINGMAKER, POSER, PRETENDER, WANNABE HEIR
They had it
all wrong.
I never wanted to
rule the world; all I wanted was her.
But they couldn’t
see past my bad reputation, so they forced us apart.
That was ten
years ago, and I’ve grown up.
I’m still a
rebel.
I’m still
reckless.
But I’m also
ruthless.
Determined.
And I have even
bigger balls.
So, when I find
out she’s in trouble, I have to help her.
It doesn’t matter
that she hates me.
She’ll get over
it.
Fighting for her
is what I was born to do.
I never wanted to
rule until she needed me to, and this time I won’t stop until I get what I want.
If they think I
will…
They have it
all wrong.
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Excerpt
THE
NOT SO MEET CUTE
When
someone at the craps table beside me shouts, “Yes!” I flick my gaze in that
direction. Standing at the very end is a tall woman in tight black pants with
the shapeliest ass.
There’s an untidy pile of flecked chips in
front of her. A modest stack of chips is also nestled on the edge of the table.
Apparently,
she’s winning.
Curious, I
watch as the woman makes the standard pass line bet. There are three shooters
at the table, and they will each take a turn rolling the dice, although they
will all be betting on each roll.
Not my game
of choice.
No skill.
Just luck.
She’s first,
so she grabs the dice, gives them a blow for luck, and rolls them both down the
table in her come out roll.
I can’t see
the dice, but when she jumps up and down, I can only guess she rolled a seven
or an eleven. It’s still her turn, and when she does her little ritual with the
dice again, I find it more than sexy. On this roll, if she rolls a two, three
or twelve, she loses.
I feel like
I want to cross my fingers for her.
Luck.
It’s all
about luck.
She jumps
up and down again, and I know she’s still in.
Roll after
roll, she’s kicking ass.
Now, I’m
holding my breath because she’s on the point
roll. The dealer turns the puck to ‘ON’ and places it on the number that was
just rolled. All she has to do is avoid a seven to keep going.
She’s still
as the roll comes to a stop. I feel more emotion watching her than I did with
everything I had on the line back at the blackjack table.
“Bad luck,”
I hear someone groan and watch as the pile of chips she had pushed forward
disappears.
Shit!
She
sevened-out. She practically sags at the table as the loss registers. Just
then, the concierge hands me a receipt that acknowledges the transfer of my
winnings, and shaking my head for her, I start to stride toward the exit.
Shouldn’t
play a game luck.
Somehow,
she accidentally pushes the small remaining pile of chips under her arm onto
the floor as I’m passing behind her. Without a second thought, I find myself
diving down to help her recover her money.
When my
eyes meet her sparkling blue ones, I can’t move, and all the breath is knocked
squarely from my chest.
Elizabeth.
It’s been
ten years since I broke her heart, and shit…
Little
Liz Laurent is all grown up.
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