In this deliciously sexy, wickedly funny companion to The Royal Treatment and The Royal Pain, a reluctant princess and a determined royal bodyguard are about to discover that when it comes to powerful love, there are no defenses. And that's a job Jeffrey Rodinov takes very seriously as well. Someone who can make her feel like a queen-in and out of bed. Someone needs to watch her and show her the royal ropes (and cuffs.and scarves.). The lady says she doesn't need a bodyguard, but that's where she's wrong.

Very kissable neck, back, legs, wrists, earlobes. Her credentials? Hunting guide in the Alaskan wilderness. But no Rodinov ever had to protect Princess Nicole Krenski. No thanks necessary.) No one ever sees Jeffrey Rodinov coming, and no one-not even a mouthy, illegitimate princess-is going to keep him from playing bodyguard when his king decrees it. (Yes, crossword puzzle, in ink, just after taking out the guy behind you. Six feet four inches, 220 fatless lbs., black hair, and blue eyes weapon of choice: the 9 mm Beretta. Jeffrey Rodinov is descended from one of the oldest families in Alaska, and a Rodinov has been protecting a Baranov for generations.

And the tabloid darlings are about to get more ink once the King's 'royal oats' come back in the form of a surprise princess, landing them all in, well. Instead, Alaska is a beautiful, rough-and-tumble country ruled by a famously eccentric royal family who put the fun back in dysfunctional. In a world nearly identical to ours, the North won the Civil War, flannel is the new bling, and Russia never sold Alaska to the U.S.

The royal mess maryjanice davidson