The Royal Mess. MaryJanice Davidson

The Royal Mess

“AND HE ASKED FOR YOU PERSONALLY.”

Gulping the last of her coffee, Nicole swung into the driveway of the Outer Banks Co. She was surprised to see a strange car beside her boss’s and the other guides’. She nearly always beat the clients in. Who’d bother showing up at 6:30 A.M. if they didn’t have to?

She hopped out of her truck, locked it, then crossed the damp lawn, enjoying the spring sunshine. Winter had a pretty good grip every year, but it always eased up, and she was always surprised when it happened. It was finally jacket weather, which meant in hot Great Plains states like North Dakota it was shorts weather.

Spirits high, Nicole bounded up the steps and into her boss’s office.

And groaned.

“We meet again, Nicole,” the bodyguard told her. He was decked out for fishing—old jeans, faded flannel shirt, work boots. His curly black hair was rumpled, as if he’d spent the time waiting for her running his fingers through it. She wanted to run her fingers through it, to see if the texture was as silky as it looked.

No, she did not.

“Nicole, this is Jeffrey Rodinov—”

“We’ve met,” she said shortly.

“Who works at the Sitka Palace,” her boss, Mike Freeborg, continued excitedly. “And he asked for you personally.”

More from MaryJanice Davidson

DOING IT RIGHT

HELLO, GORGEOUS!

REALLY UNUSUAL BAD BOYS

THE ROYAL TREATMENT

THE ROYAL PAIN

THE ROYAL MESS

And look for her stories in these anthologies