Royal Gone Rogue (Sweet Royal RomCom, #2)

by Emma St. Clair

“Just tell me you didn’t make a spreadsheet.” I say nothing. Because I did not make a spreadsheet. I made two.

“You can’t choose a wife based on a spreadsheet.”

“I’m sure it’s quite a lovely rubric,” Callum adds politely. “Stop saying the word rubric,” I snap.

“I think it’s romantic. Like a fairy tale,” Callum says in a falsely sweet voice.

“What is it they say—single and ready to mingle?” Enzo shakes a finger at his friend. “No one says that. And there will be no mingling of any kind.”

I hope you’re flexing,” Callum says. “A perfect opportunity to deflect her attention away from the bad beard and onto those guns.”

“They absolutely are not flexible,” Callum corrects, startling me. So—he’s not duct-taped. “You must be on the royal jet in sixty-one hours and twenty-three minutes to save me from the dinner with the foreign advisors.”

Leaning over the island, Juliet hands Callum two eggs, a wicked smile on her face. “Thank you. I shall remember your act of service,” Callum says.

“The peacocks only had eyes for me. Don’t worry. Ouch!”

LMAOOOO

Callum swats at the physician, who curses under his breath and then disappears from the frame. “About time,” Callum mutters.

“If I never hear the word rubric again, it will be too soon,” I say, massaging my temples.

“Operation Acquire Alessia,” Callum says, and I want to both hug and hit him, “commences now.”