Yvonne Lindsay - The Once and Future Prince / Pretend Mistress, Bona Fide Boss - The Once and Future Prince

“Should we get on with the negotiations, Prince D’Agostino?”

The title that he hadn’t heard in eight years and the formality that had never before passed her lips were like claws swiped across raw tissue.

“Leandro.” He couldn’t temper his anger. “You remember my name, don’t you, Phoebe? Say it. You once moaned it, sobbed it, screamed it. I’m sure you can now pay me the courtesy of just saying it.”

Her eyes wavered before they hardened, her lips twitched before they thinned. “I see no reason to. Prince D’Agostino is what’s proper in this situation. And I demand you pay me the courtesy of not bringing up our past liaison again.”

He gave a rough huff. “You’d better realise fast that I don’t respond well to demands, Phoebe. I’m also notorious for being impossible to steer. So quit wasting your breath trying to manoeuvre this ‘negotiation.’ We’re doing this my way.”

“Why hide everything?”

Lainey pulled away and took a step back, nervously smoothing the jacket of her beige suit.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play games with me, Lainey. You know exactly what I’m talking about. This—” He gestured to her suit which, while well cut, was a size too large and gave the impression she was heavier than she really was. “And this.”

He gestured this time to her hair, his hand snaking out and pulling at the pronged pin she’d used to secure her habitual bun for the office. As her hair tumbled over her shoulders, she saw again the same burn of interest in his eyes that had halted her in her tracks last night at the casino. The near feral look of possession, or at least the desire to possess, that had both excited and terrified her in one fell swoop.

Eight hundred years ago, Antonio D’Agostino founded the Mediterranean kingdom of Castaldini. With a culture mixing Italian and Moorish influences, the kingdom was unique. But what set it apart from the world’s monarchies was the succession law Antonio D’Agostino created. He knew none of his sons was fit to wear a crown after him, so he decreed that the succession would not be by blood but by merit. Anyone from the extensive D’Agostino clan, all now considered the royal family, could prove himself worthy of being the next king. He set stringent rules that had to be satisfied before someone could be a candidate for the crown, including that the selection of the next king had to be with the unanimous approval of the royal council of the reigning king.

And the other rules? That the future king be of impeccable reputation, of sturdy health and no vices, of solid lineage from both sides, a leader people followed due to the power of his character and charisma, and above all, a self-made success of the highest order.

So it had always been—D’Agostino men vying for the crown, striving to deserve it. Throughout history, one D’Agostino man always won over all competitors and claimed the crown. He chose his council from the royal family and during his reign selected the next king to be his crown prince, so that the transition of power occurred smoothly in case anything befell him.

And the kingdom’s motto was Lasci l’uomo migliore vincere.

Let the best man win.

Available in April 2010 from Mills & Boon® Desire™

Inherited: One Child by Day Leclaire & Dakota Daddy by Sara Orwig

Propositioned Into a Foreign Affair by Catherine Mann & Seduced Into a Paper Marriage by Maureen Child

Mini-series— THE HUDSONS OF BEVERLY HILLS

The Once and Future Prince by Olivia Gates & Pretend Mistress, Bona Fide Boss by Yvonne Lindsay

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MILLS & BOON®

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Dear Reader,

After my THRONE OF JUDAR series, which was magical to write, I wondered what to do next. I wanted to continue writing to that same level of sumptuousness and enchantment, with the same world-shaking stakes. I longed to create more irresistible, über-alpha, larger-than-life men and the women who are their perfect counterparts. I wanted to tell more stories of impossible riches and towering passions.

And so was born THE CASTALDINI CROWN, a trilogy set on a lush Mediterranean island drenched in sun and history, a kingdom that has refused to follow the rules of the world. For in Castaldini the crown is won, not inherited.

For the first time in eight hundred years, Castaldini is in jeopardy. The reigning king is sick and the quest for the next king is made more desperate because, according to the ancient laws, each of the only three men suited to hold the crown has one major criterion that makes him ineligible for it.

THE CASTALDINI CROWN launches with The Once and Future Prince, as renegade Prince Leandro D’Agostino wrestles with the decision to return to the kingdom that exiled him and with his fear of surrendering his heart again to the woman who deserted him. Or did she?

The storyline continues in the next two months with The Prodigal Prince’s Seduction and The Illegitimate King.

I would love to hear your thoughts at oliviagates@olivia gates.com. Also please visit me at www.oliviagates.com.

Thank you for reading.

Olivia Gates

Olivia Gateshas always pursued creative passions—painting, singing and many handicrafts. She still does, but only one of her passions grew gratifying enough, consuming enough, to become an ongoing career: writing.

She is most fulfilled when she is creating worlds and conflicts for her characters, then exploring and untangling them bit by bit, sharing her protagonists’ every heart-wrenching heartache and hope, their every heart-pounding doubt and trial, until she leads them to an indisputably earned and gloriously satisfying happy ending.

When she’s not writing, she is a doctor, a wife to her own alpha male and a mother to one brilliant girl and one demanding angora cat. Visit Olivia at www.oliviagates. com.

To Melissa Jeglinski.

Thank you for the wonderful new path. I wish you happiness and success in everything you endeavour, MJ.

To Natashya Wilson, my incredible editor.

Can’t be happier that we’re a team, Tashya.

Eight years ago

“Come closer, Phoebe. I won’t bite. Not too hard.”

Leandro’s rumble reverberated in Phoebe’s bones.

She choked on the surge of response, on the breath that was trapped inside her lungs. The breath she’d been holding waiting for him to contact her. The one she always held until he did.

She still couldn’t breathe. He stood as if carved from rock, staring out of his penthouse’s floor-to-ceiling windows at the Manhattan skyline, which glittered like clusters of stars set in arcane patterns. Her starved senses registered only him.

The power of his physique, the silken layers crowning his head, dimmed spotlights overhead caressing copper overtones from the hairs’ deepest mahogany. Her hands stung with the memory of convulsing in that hair as he’d exposed her to the mercilessness of his pleasuring.

His scent invaded her with a maleness and a potency that were only his, an aphrodisiac even from the distance he bade her to eliminate. He’d already gotten her to travel four thousand miles to “come closer.”