Ways To Ruin A Royal Reputation (Mills & Boon Modern) (Signed, Sealed…Seduced, Book 1)

of his sex. He was woke enough to know that objectifying women was wrong, that women who worked for him were always off-limits, and that grabbing anyone’s backside without express permission was unacceptable—even if she’d gawked at his own like she’d wanted to help herself to a handful.
When he’d caught Amy checking him out a few minutes ago, he’d considered scrapping this whole idea in favor of suggesting he refile his flight plan so they could tour the king-size bed in the other room.
Luca didn’t place nascent physical attraction over real world obligations, though. Whether it looked like it or not, allowing his sister to take his place was the greatest service he could do for his country. He wouldn’t be swayed from it.
If that left room in his future to make a few less than wise decisions with a woman who attracted him, that was icing. For now, he had to keep his mind out of the gutter.
Or rather, only go there in a very shallow and deliberate manner.
Look at the bar Papa set, his twin had sniffed a few weeks ago when he’d been relaying his frustration with the Privy Council’s refusal to allow him to abdicate. You have a long way to sink before they would even think of ousting you in favor of me.
Luca didn’t want to put the country into constitutional crisis or start firing dedicated public servants. He only wanted to make things right, but there were too many people invested in the status quo. He’d tried cultivating a certain incompetence as he’d adopted the duties of king, pushing more and more responsibilities onto Sofia to show she was the more deserving ruler, but the council dismissed his missteps as “adapting to the stress of his new role.” They hovered more closely than ever and were driving him mad.
Sofia’s casual remark had been effortlessly on the nose, providing Luca with the solution he’d been searching for. He needed to sink to that unforgivable depth in one shot, touch bottom very briefly, then shoot back to the surface before too much damage was done.
Amy Miller was uniquely positioned to help him make that happen, having bailed countless celebrities out of scandals of their own making.
She was helping herself to items from the hospitality basket, dropping an apple and a protein snack into her bag before adding a water bottle and a bar of chocolate.
“I’ll deduct this from your bill,” she said absently as she examined a lip balm before uncapping it and sweeping it across her naked mouth. She rolled her lips and dropped the tube into her bag. “I’ll buy a change of clothes from the boutique in the lobby on our way out.”
“We don’t have time for a shopping spree. I’ll make arrangements for things to be waiting for you when we arrive.”
“I’m hideously efficient,” she insisted. “Shall I meet you at the front doors in fifteen minutes?” She plucked the black motorcycle jacket off the back of the stool and shrugged it over her dress.
Something in that combination of tough leather over delicate silk, studded black over bright colors, fine blond hair flicked free of the heavy collar and the haughty expression on her face made him want to catch her jacket’s lapels in his fists and drag her close for the hottest, deepest kiss of their lives. His heart rate picked up and his chest heated.
Their eyes met, and they were close enough that he saw her pupils explode in reaction to whatever she was reading in his face.
Look at the bar Papa set.
“Car park. Ten minutes.” He pushed a gruff coolness into his tone that made it clear he was not invested in her on any level. “Or the whole thing is off.”
She flinched slightly, then gave him what he suspected was a stock keep-the-client-happy smile, saying a very unconcerned, “I’ll risk it.”
It was cheeky enough to grate, mostly because it lit an urgency in him, one that warned him against letting her get away. He started to tell her that when he said something, he meant it, but she was already gone.
Amy fled the suite. She had reached the limit of her ability to pretend she was cool with all of this and desperately needed to bring her pulse under control, especially after what had just happened.
What had just happened?
She had found an excuse to escape his overwhelming presence, dragged on her jacket, glanced at Luca, and a crackling surge of energy between them had nearly sucked her toward him like a tractor beam pulling her into an imploding sun. For one second, she’d thought he was going to leap on her and swallow her whole.
Much to her chagrin, she was a teensy bit disappointed he hadn’t. In fact, she was stinging with rejection at the way he’d so quickly frozen her out, as if he hadn’t handpicked her to make his worst nightmare come true.
As if she’d been obvious in her attraction toward him and he’d needed to rebuff her.
As if she had consciously been issuing an invitation—which she hadn’t!
She was reacting on a purely physical level and was mortified that it was so potent. So obvious. She didn’t understand why it was happening. Even before all her PR management courses, she’d had a knack for being dropped into a situation that demanded swift, decisive action and turning it around. Now it was her day job to create space for clients to freak out and sob and come to terms with whatever drama might have befallen them. She was adept at processing her own reactions on the fly, but today she was shaking and wishing for a paper bag to breathe into.
Luca was the diametric opposite of everything she’d ever encountered. He wasn’t a boy from the council flats who’d stumbled into stardom and didn’t know how to handle it. He’d been raised to be king. He was a man of impeccable reputation who wanted her to engineer his fall from grace. Instead of his looks