The Bossy Prince (Rugged and Royal #3) - Lili Valente Page 0,35

a slow scandal day.

Bea is one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met. She and her older brother, Jonah, joined my brothers and me on vacation several times when we were younger, and our paths often cross at various charity events. But she’s also a disaster waiting to happen.

Perhaps she’s cursed, perhaps she wronged a vengeful god in a former life, or perhaps she simply lacks the self-preservation gene that keeps the rest of us from stumbling into trouble at every opportunity.

I can’t say for certain, but if there’s a puddle of bad luck on the side of the road, Beatrice will fall into it.

Face first.

Splashing collateral damage all over her family in the process.

“Get over here, silly!” Beatrice calls.

“Coming,” I say cheerily while impending doom settles on my shoulders.

As I circle the pool, I mentally flip through a few of Bea’s more infamous mishaps.

At the tender age of nineteen, Beatrice, a devout animal lover, lost a sizeable chunk of her inheritance after being successfully sued by a wildlife preservation group. She apparently facilitated the extinction of a rare parasitic wasp while trying to save a not-at-all endangered species of miniature frog. A year later, she adopted a ferret who’d been trained by his former owner to steal jewelry, leading to a disastrous interaction with the Swiss police. And not long after, she began transforming the ground floor of her ancestral home in Nimway into a dog rescue so noisy her entire family soon moved to their other estate, leaving her to wander the halls of an eight-bedroom chateau alone—aside from her servants and a band of misfit mongrels.

And unfortunately, her troubles aren’t confined to the four-legged variety.

Beatrice has made headlines for dating an art thief, vacationing with a billionaire only she didn’t realize was married, and breaking her nose giving a blow job to a rock star who relayed the anecdote to Rolling Stone during an interview.

Now “Pulling a Beatrice” is urban slang for injuring oneself during sex.

And her terrible taste in men must still be in full effect. The only way Bea could have scored an invite to this resort during Stefano’s private island party is as someone’s plus-one. Which means she must be dating a very bad man.

Cluelessly, no doubt.

Beatrice only sees the best in people. No matter how many times she’s caught in the rain, she only notices the silver lining, not the cloud.

“Hello there, Bea,” I say, wheels still spinning as I arrive at the table and toss my towel over the empty chair. “What a lovely surprise.”

But of course, it isn’t.

Bea’s presence isn’t only bad for Bea, it’s bad for Zan and me, as well. Soon, everyone at the resort will know Zan’s true identity and that I’m here with my sister-in-law, the princess, and not some random blonde.

But it’s too late to change course now. Zan and I have to continue to pretend to be lovers, despite fate dropping a family member into the mix.

I don’t hesitate to lean down and brush my lips against Zan’s, whispering, “Missed you at the beach, beautiful,” before settling into my chair.

“Missed you, too,” Zan says, a convincingly smitten warmth in her gaze as she adds, “As you can see, our secret is out.”

She motions to Beatrice, who is beaming so brightly glitter is practically shooting out of her eyeballs.

“Oh, Nicky. This is so wonderful! I’m thrilled for you two,” Bea gushes in her breathy voice. “I would never have put the two of you together, but now it makes complete sense. You’re perfect! Salt and sugar—opposites that complement each other in the best way. Like salted caramel.” She lets out a low moan. “Mmm, so much better than caramel without the salt, right? And I was just telling Zan, I bet your families are thrilled.” She claps her hands excitedly. “And your sisters! It’s going to be so amazing to be married to brothers and stay close as you build families of your own. I confess I’m jealous. I miss Jonah desperately now that he’s so far away.”

“It will be great,” Zan agrees, clearing her throat. “But we…haven’t exactly told our families about us just yet. They don’t know we’re dating. Or that we’re here together.”

Beatrice’s smile dims a watt or two. “They don’t? Why? Are you worried they won’t approve? That it will seem strange for three sisters to marry three brothers?” She reaches out, covering Zan’s smaller hand with her lightly freckled one. “I mean, the tabloids will definitely talk, but you can’t let