Royally Shared (The Triple Crown Club #1)



I was still buzzing — my mind still racing and my body still tingling as I grabbed a cab to the office address the hiring manager had given me. The whole way, I was of course replaying the night before. The whole way there, when I should have been mentally preparing for my first day at a tough new job working for a damn prince, I was instead thinking of the unbelievably hot night of toe-curling sex I’d had with two gorgeous, incredible men.

…The added flavoring of secret royal sex clubs and members-only tattoos only made my blood pump a little faster, even if I told myself that was all silliness.

After all, Anya had said it was just an urban legend.

The cab stopped, and I blinked my way out of the daydreams and looked up. We were stopped at a massive gate, with a guard post next to us and multiple men in the color and uniform of the North Revania royal guard.

I froze, suddenly jerking my gaze up past the gate to the office building I’d been expecting.

My jaw dropped.

Remember that thing about princes not being in castles?

I’d been wrong.



“His Highness will see you now.”

The stern looking, scowling older man in the crisp uniform barked the words across the waiting room to me. I stood quickly, shivering in anticipation.

I was about to meet the royal Prince of North Revania, face-to-face.

My new boss.

Powerful. Rich. Gorgeous.

Single.

I mentally rolled my eyes at myself for the thought. This was my new boss, not some “royal” episode of The Bachelor. And even if Prince Snow was notoriously secretive and pretty much invisible to the tabloids, I was sure it was just because he was good at hiding his personal life, not because he didn’t have one.

He was, after all, a young, hot, wealthy prince. I’m sure I couldn’t even begin to imagine the sordid details of the private life he kept hidden.

I followed the stern man in uniform down a hallway to a set to double doors — solid wood with the crest of North Revania carved into them and inlaid with gold. Armed guard in formal dress stood on either side of it. The stern man moved to sit behind a desk beside the door, and spoke quietly into an intercom.

“Send her in.”

The voice was deep, rich, and powerful sounding, and it sent a shiver up my back.

Deep breaths. You can do this.

The stern man nodded at the guards before turning to me. “A word of advice. Do not keep His Highness waiting. On anything.”

The guards opened the doors, I took a deep breath, and I stepped into the room. The doors clicked shut behind me.

“Ms. Carlson, I presume.”

I took one last deep breath, forcing the nervousness from my system before I raised my head.

Good lord.

It was his eyes that shot lighting through my body — his dark, storm-blue eyes that rooted me to the spot and sent something throbbing deep into my body. My breath caught, and for a moment, as I locked eyes with the Prince himself, I was lost.

He smiled — a darkly wicked, smug, and downright panty-melting grin — as he stood from his huge desk. He walked around it, and as he moved towards me, I felt my pulse beating faster and faster. I knew I was standing frozen to the spot not saying a freaking word like a total wierdo, but I also knew there was no way I could help that.

Not there, in that office, with that man.

He was hot in pictures, or on the news. In person, he was jaw-droppingly gorgeous. Thick dark hair, those piercing dark-blue eyes, and a body that screamed power and dominance, even clothed in an Armani suit. He oozed sexual energy, and I realized I was practically panting, my thighs squeezing together under my pencil skirt as he moved closer.

“Is everything alright, Ms. Carlson?”

His voice teased over me like a lover’s touch, pulsing through me and melting over my skin.

Somehow — somehow — I managed to find myself. I quickly snapped my mouth shut and clenched my hands tight at my sides, forcing the smile to my face and trying to bury the illicit feelings deep inside.

“Your Highness.” I bowed quickly, my pulse still racing as I tried to swallow the heat from my face. “A pleasure to meet you, and it will be an honor to serve you.”

To serve you.

The blush crept back into my face as I imagined all sorts of ways I’d be happy to “serve” him.

God, what is wrong with me?

I’d had one night of the best sex of my life — with two men — and the next day I was soaking through my panties as I fantasized about my new boss.

Apparently, I’d taken “getting wild” to another level entirely.

“Mr. Snow will do, Ms. Carlson.” His eyes smirked, his whole body exuding power. “Your Highness seems a bit…antiquated, wouldn’t you say?”

“As you wish, Your High—” I caught myself, wincing as I shook my head. “Absolutely, Mr. Snow.”

He smiled cooly, and I swear his eyes lingered as they slowly moved over my body — up my legs, over my pencil skirt, and teasingly up my blouse to hold my eyes with his gaze and let it simmer. I trembled under that gaze, my entire body feeling flushed before he slowly pulled his eyes away from me and turned.

“You’ll be hitting the ground running today. It’s a busy one, so copy my schedule to yours from Leon outside and memorize it quickly. Meetings, more meetings, a board room round-table, and then I’m having lunch with some friends from out of town.”

He glanced up at me, a smirk on his face. “You’ll like them.”

He moved behind his desk and shrugged his jacket off. I swallowed as I watched him fold it precisely and drape it over the back of his big chair before he rolled the sleeves up on his dress shirt.

Those forearms…

I quickly looked away, desperate to get ahold of myself and my apparently raging hormones.

“Ms. Carlson.”

I quickly glanced back to see him eying me curiously. “My schedule?”

I blushed, nodding quickly. “Absolutely, Your Highness.”

I froze, cringing again at my faux pas. But he only grinned, his brows arched as if amused as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“We’ll work on that. Now, let’s get to work, shall we?”



The rest of the morning was a blur of meetings, schedule syncing, and dealing with grouchy Leon — the stern man who’d led me down the hall. I was mostly in the Prince’s office itself, doing everything in my power to concentrate on work and not him — the guy who had to be using some sort of magic pheromones as cologne, since I could not keep myself from staring at him, or thinking all sorts of highly inappropriate thoughts about us.

One meeting blurred into the next as the day progressed, until it was quickly approaching lunch. I was in a side office off of the Prince’s main office — a gorgeous room of all glass that’d be set aside as my own office while managing his affairs — when my intercom buzzed.

“Ms. Carlson.”

His crisp, velvety voice purred through the speaker, and for the hundredth time that day, I wanted to slap myself for getting so damn flustered over my boss.

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