In desperate need of keeping my mind off of the disaster that was my marriage, I randomly decided one morning to go riding. I hadnât spent much time with any of the horses in some years, as my princely duties took up more and more of my leisure time.Iâd always enjoyed riding as a child. After the debacle when Iâd ridden off and gotten lost for hours as a child, though, Iâd stopped riding. It had soured the sport for me, and then life had taken hold and Iâd stopped entirely.My mare, Juliette, nickered softly as we started down the lane that led to a trail that meandered through a forested area five kilometers outside Saint Henri. It was a beautiful, late summer day. With the dappled sunshine following just me and my horse, I could almost imagine everything was fine.I could almost imagine that my wife was speaking to me. That there werenât dozens of stories, online and in print, about those titillating photos of her bare breasts. That there werenât other stories about how my parent
âDo you know how to ride?â I asked Liam.âA horse? Fuck no.âI rolled my eyes. I was tempted to ride Juliette back and let Liam fend for himself, but Niamh wouldnât be too happy about that, no matter how angry she was with her brother.And of course, Niamh and Mari had driven back, leaving us stranded.âThen I guess weâll have to walk back,â I said.Liam shot me a dark look. âIâm not walking back with you.ââDo you even know how to get there? Because if you get lost and slowly starve to death in the forest, I wonât be upset about it.ââI have a fucking phone.â When Liam pulled out his phone to discover that service was spotty out here, he cursed. And cursed. And then cursed again.It would be funny, if I werenât bruised and if it werenât still hard to breathe. It would be funny, if my wife werenât angry with me and probably building a guillotine with my name on it right this moment.âWe could ask for a ride,â I said, âbut considering we just made poor Francois weep
That night, I knocked on Niamhâs bedroom door and waited. It felt so reminiscent of our wedding night that I almost expected her to tell me to go away.This time, though, she opened the door and leaned against the mantel with a questioning look. She was wearing a nightgown and nothing else, the silk strap falling down her shoulder. Her hair was down; it had grown nearly to her waist since weâd married. I wanted to wrap it around my hands as I plunged inside her.âDid you need something?â She was smiling a little.âYou,â I said simply.âWell, thatâs very to the point.â She glanced over her shoulder at her bed. âI was reading a book, you know. I was just about to get to the part where they bone.âI wrapped an arm around her waist. âYou could get a good boning right now.âShe laughed. âTrĂ©s romantique!ââDid you want romance? I can go send Laurent for a bouquet of flowers. Champagne, chocolates, the works.ââHave you ever sent him to get you a box of condoms? Now Iâm curious.ââT
Niamh refused to speak with me for the next two days. On the third day, I used the same trick Iâd used on our wedding night to enter her bedroom.Only to find my wife nowhere in sight.Celia startled when she saw me. She immediately mumbled something and tried to hurry away, but I stopped her.âWhere is my wife?âCeliaâs gaze was everywhere except on my face. âI donât know, Your Highness,â she nearly whispered.âYou donât know or you wonât tell me?âCelia looked like she going to burst into tears. âSir, she forbade me from telling you. She made me swear on my motherâs grave.ââDidnât you just visit your mother two weeks ago?âCeliaâs chin wobbled. âItâs still very upsetting to think about!â She added quickly, âSir.âI approached her slowly, rather like you would a deer that was close to bolting. âYou need to tell me where she is. What if something happens to her and I couldnât get her help?ââOh, when you put it like thatâŠââShe can be angry with me, not you. Iâll take
It was a strange time to be alive when I found myself barred from entering my wifeâs estate by a tiny slip of a maid.âShe doesnât want to see you,â the maid said in a heavy Irish accent. âShe explicitly told me not to let you inside.âThe butler, a granite-faced man who couldâve been thirty or seventy, stood behind the maid and nodded.âI need to speak with her,â I repeated slowly. âItâs urgent.âThe maid just shook her head. âIâm sorry. Itâs not possibleâYour Highness.âAnd then a door was shut in my face. Me, a prince, heir to the throne of Salasia. I had to admit that had never happened before. People tended to open doors for me, not close them.Then again, Niamh had done the same thing to me multiple times now. Clenching my jaw, I went to gaze out at the vast Irish Sea, the sea air cool against my face.I didnât understand why Niamh was literally shutting me out. Had the maid even told her I was here, in Dublin, begging to see her? Did she want me to climb some trelli
Once upon a time, a prince married a girl who didnât want to marry him. Their marriage was rocky, and the prince realized that, if he was going to keep his new princess by his side, heâd have to make the ultimate sacrifice.The princess, touched by his generosity, accepted his heart, and he hers.I never thought Iâd have a fairy tale romance. I might be a prince, but they were fairy tales for a reason.Niamh, of course, had proven me wrong entirely about that.Five years after weâd married, the palace held a ball to celebrate the coronation of me and my princess as the new reigning sovereigns. My parents had decided to abdicate, feeling that their time in the spotlight had come to an end.âWeâre going to be late,â I said to Laurent. We were waiting for Niamh and company to arrive for our grand entrance into the ballroom.âI heard something about a âkitten explosion,â Your Highness,â replied Laurent gravely.âI donât even want to know what that means.âWith only a minute t
The moment I woke up after my best friendâs raucous bachelorette party in Las Vegas, I realized two things in quick succession:To my horror, the man had his arm slung across me, and it weighed at least a thousand pounds, I was sure. My bladder yelled profanities at me as I pushed at the ridiculously heavy arm trapping me against the bed.Finally, he turned over, taking his arm with him. I shuffled to the bathroom and didnât feel the panic hit me until after Iâd peed and saw the ring on my left hand.Ring. Left hand. I didnât wear a ring there anymore since Iâd caught my ex-fiancĂ© cheating on me. Iâd thrown the ring David had bought me in his face.This ring wasnât that diamond David had gotten me. I peered more closely at it. It wasâplastic? Was it from a ring pop?Did I call the police? No, that was stupid. 911, I got married last night to a stranger. Yeah, thatâd go over well. I was sure the Vegas police would just laugh and tell us to get a lawyer.I heard movement in the roo
The Prince I Love to HateThe Princess I Hate to LoveSay Youâre MineAll I Ask of YouMake Me YoursHold Me CloseWar of the RosesPetal PluckerHe Loves Me, He Loves Me NotOopsie DaisyincludingThen Came YouTaking a Chance on LoveAll I Want Is YouMy One and OnlyThe Nearness of YouThe Very Thought of YouIf I Canât Have YouDream a Little Dream of MeSomeone to Watch Over MeTill There Was YouIâll Be Home for Christmas
A coffee addict and cat lover, USA Today bestselling author Iris Morland writes sparkling, swoon-worthy romances, including the Flower Shop Sisters and the Love Everlasting series.If she's not reading or writing, she enjoys binging on Netflix shows and cooking something delicious.Sign up for my newsletter to stay up-to-date with new releases, sales, and exclusive giveaways! Facebook Twitter BookBub Goodreads Instagram
The Prince I Love to HateThe Princess I Hate to LoveSay Youâre MineAll I Ask of YouMake Me YoursHold Me CloseWar of the RosesPetal PluckerHe Loves Me, He Loves Me NotOopsie DaisyincludingThen Came YouTaking a Chance on LoveAll I Want Is YouMy One and OnlyThe Nearness of YouThe Very Thought of YouIf I Canât Have YouDream a Little Dream of MeSomeone to Watch Over MeTill There Was YouIâll Be Home for Christmas
The moment I woke up after my best friendâs raucous bachelorette party in Las Vegas, I realized two things in quick succession:To my horror, the man had his arm slung across me, and it weighed at least a thousand pounds, I was sure. My bladder yelled profanities at me as I pushed at the ridiculously heavy arm trapping me against the bed.Finally, he turned over, taking his arm with him. I shuffled to the bathroom and didnât feel the panic hit me until after Iâd peed and saw the ring on my left hand.Ring. Left hand. I didnât wear a ring there anymore since Iâd caught my ex-fiancĂ© cheating on me. Iâd thrown the ring David had bought me in his face.This ring wasnât that diamond David had gotten me. I peered more closely at it. It wasâplastic? Was it from a ring pop?Did I call the police? No, that was stupid. 911, I got married last night to a stranger. Yeah, thatâd go over well. I was sure the Vegas police would just laugh and tell us to get a lawyer.I heard movement in the roo
Once upon a time, a prince married a girl who didnât want to marry him. Their marriage was rocky, and the prince realized that, if he was going to keep his new princess by his side, heâd have to make the ultimate sacrifice.The princess, touched by his generosity, accepted his heart, and he hers.I never thought Iâd have a fairy tale romance. I might be a prince, but they were fairy tales for a reason.Niamh, of course, had proven me wrong entirely about that.Five years after weâd married, the palace held a ball to celebrate the coronation of me and my princess as the new reigning sovereigns. My parents had decided to abdicate, feeling that their time in the spotlight had come to an end.âWeâre going to be late,â I said to Laurent. We were waiting for Niamh and company to arrive for our grand entrance into the ballroom.âI heard something about a âkitten explosion,â Your Highness,â replied Laurent gravely.âI donât even want to know what that means.âWith only a minute t
It was a strange time to be alive when I found myself barred from entering my wifeâs estate by a tiny slip of a maid.âShe doesnât want to see you,â the maid said in a heavy Irish accent. âShe explicitly told me not to let you inside.âThe butler, a granite-faced man who couldâve been thirty or seventy, stood behind the maid and nodded.âI need to speak with her,â I repeated slowly. âItâs urgent.âThe maid just shook her head. âIâm sorry. Itâs not possibleâYour Highness.âAnd then a door was shut in my face. Me, a prince, heir to the throne of Salasia. I had to admit that had never happened before. People tended to open doors for me, not close them.Then again, Niamh had done the same thing to me multiple times now. Clenching my jaw, I went to gaze out at the vast Irish Sea, the sea air cool against my face.I didnât understand why Niamh was literally shutting me out. Had the maid even told her I was here, in Dublin, begging to see her? Did she want me to climb some trelli
Niamh refused to speak with me for the next two days. On the third day, I used the same trick Iâd used on our wedding night to enter her bedroom.Only to find my wife nowhere in sight.Celia startled when she saw me. She immediately mumbled something and tried to hurry away, but I stopped her.âWhere is my wife?âCeliaâs gaze was everywhere except on my face. âI donât know, Your Highness,â she nearly whispered.âYou donât know or you wonât tell me?âCelia looked like she going to burst into tears. âSir, she forbade me from telling you. She made me swear on my motherâs grave.ââDidnât you just visit your mother two weeks ago?âCeliaâs chin wobbled. âItâs still very upsetting to think about!â She added quickly, âSir.âI approached her slowly, rather like you would a deer that was close to bolting. âYou need to tell me where she is. What if something happens to her and I couldnât get her help?ââOh, when you put it like thatâŠââShe can be angry with me, not you. Iâll take
That night, I knocked on Niamhâs bedroom door and waited. It felt so reminiscent of our wedding night that I almost expected her to tell me to go away.This time, though, she opened the door and leaned against the mantel with a questioning look. She was wearing a nightgown and nothing else, the silk strap falling down her shoulder. Her hair was down; it had grown nearly to her waist since weâd married. I wanted to wrap it around my hands as I plunged inside her.âDid you need something?â She was smiling a little.âYou,â I said simply.âWell, thatâs very to the point.â She glanced over her shoulder at her bed. âI was reading a book, you know. I was just about to get to the part where they bone.âI wrapped an arm around her waist. âYou could get a good boning right now.âShe laughed. âTrĂ©s romantique!ââDid you want romance? I can go send Laurent for a bouquet of flowers. Champagne, chocolates, the works.ââHave you ever sent him to get you a box of condoms? Now Iâm curious.ââT
âDo you know how to ride?â I asked Liam.âA horse? Fuck no.âI rolled my eyes. I was tempted to ride Juliette back and let Liam fend for himself, but Niamh wouldnât be too happy about that, no matter how angry she was with her brother.And of course, Niamh and Mari had driven back, leaving us stranded.âThen I guess weâll have to walk back,â I said.Liam shot me a dark look. âIâm not walking back with you.ââDo you even know how to get there? Because if you get lost and slowly starve to death in the forest, I wonât be upset about it.ââI have a fucking phone.â When Liam pulled out his phone to discover that service was spotty out here, he cursed. And cursed. And then cursed again.It would be funny, if I werenât bruised and if it werenât still hard to breathe. It would be funny, if my wife werenât angry with me and probably building a guillotine with my name on it right this moment.âWe could ask for a ride,â I said, âbut considering we just made poor Francois weep
In desperate need of keeping my mind off of the disaster that was my marriage, I randomly decided one morning to go riding. I hadnât spent much time with any of the horses in some years, as my princely duties took up more and more of my leisure time.Iâd always enjoyed riding as a child. After the debacle when Iâd ridden off and gotten lost for hours as a child, though, Iâd stopped riding. It had soured the sport for me, and then life had taken hold and Iâd stopped entirely.My mare, Juliette, nickered softly as we started down the lane that led to a trail that meandered through a forested area five kilometers outside Saint Henri. It was a beautiful, late summer day. With the dappled sunshine following just me and my horse, I could almost imagine everything was fine.I could almost imagine that my wife was speaking to me. That there werenât dozens of stories, online and in print, about those titillating photos of her bare breasts. That there werenât other stories about how my parent