How many girls can say their first kiss was with a prince in the British royal family?
We were teenagers, and yes, it was magical. But that kiss didn’t change my life. I didn’t even think about it-or Nicky Windsor-until fate brought us back together again.
Now I’m ducking reporters, and the whole world is watching me, wanting to see some kind of modern Cinderella story.
But I’m no princess. I’m more comfortable in tennis shoes than in a tiara, more likely to rock a bucket than a ball gown, and more liable to fall on my face than to pull off a graceful wave.
The only thing that keeps me from running away is Nicky. He’s all I’ve ever wanted in a man: hot, hunky, and head-over-heels in love with me. I think I feel the same way. I think I want to be with him forever.
But life with the royal family terrifies me. Even if I have found my one and only, can I handle what comes after our happy ending?