Recensori in anteprimaPriscilla Pearce

A prince and an orphaned farm girl are an unlikely pair in this enemies-to-lovers fantasy romance

Anyone who sees Ro would assume she was just a poor farm girl — that is, if they even noticed her at all. But Ro's psychic powers have caught the eye of a nearby kingdom and its young, unmarried ruler, the Prince Corrado. Corrado is as reluctant to marry a stranger as Ro is, especially one so beneath him in class and education. But if he wants to keep his kingdom, he needs to produce an heir — and ideally one who can inherit his psychic powers.

It's spite at first sight when the two meet on their wedding day. Ro hates the Prince's arrogance and coldness. Corrado can't stand the Princess's sarcastic comments and untrained manners. So why can't they stop thinking about each other? And how are they ever going to get along enough to make a baby?

***

“Stop staring at me.” The Prince hissed, frustrated.

“What am I supposed to look at?” His Princess said, equal frustration in her voice.

“Just — close your eyes.” He bent and gave her a quick peck on the mouth. Princess Ro seemed surprised, her eyes widened. “Seriously. I can’t … do this. With you staring at me like that.”

Ro did as she was told, and the Prince bent his mouth back over hers and offered a gentle, if mechanical, kiss. This time she did not flinch, but forced herself to do what she wanted — which was to relax fully into him. To feel his strength against her. Her hand, pressed against his face, sent jolts of electricity through his entire body. He tried to concentrate just on her mouth, how soft and sweet it felt, but his mind was screaming at him.

Gentle, Corrado. Don’t frighten her, you stupid brute.

To silence the shouting, he opened his mouth slightly and felt her little tongue press against his lips.

Good god. He opened his mouth wider, letting his tongue unspool into her own. He cupped her face, waiting for her to flinch at his touch, but she didn’t. Instead she fluttered her tongue deeper into his mouth, winding her arms around his neck.

Her taste. So fresh, like the earth after a rainstorm. He did not realize how badly he had wanted this, how desperate he had been to feel her against him like this. Her hands shifted in between their bodies, and at first he thought she was pushing him off of her. How careless he could be, unaware of the enormous size difference between them.

But she wasn’t pushing him away. She was unbuttoning the front of her robe.

And she wasn’t taking his hand from her face to shove him off of her.

She was taking his hand in order to guide him up the curve of her soft, lush body.

It was working. He thought. Perhaps she didn’t entirely hate him.