Royal Rumble: Love in Laandia Book 1 - a sweet royal romance by Holly Kerr

Author:Holly Kerr [Kerr, Holly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Three Birds Press
Published: 2024-02-06T00:00:00+00:00

First up is Helen’s Hunt, where the young woman behind the cash register almost has an apoplexy when we walk in. Most of the townspeople might not cause a scene when we walk around but they still get excited.

Once inside, Helen herself steps in to help Kate find jeans and casual shirts for Camille.

“This is too much,” Camille complains as Helen escorts her to the changing rooms at the back of the store. Betty White skips around, sniffing in corners and under racks, followed by Jackson trying to keep an eye on her.

“Just try things on,” Kate urges. “It doesn’t mean you have to get it all.”

“There’s no way I can get it all. Saint Pierre doesn’t exactly have a royal coffer, and even if it did, there’s no way I have access to it.”

“It’s my treat,” I call, rifling through a rack of men’s flannel shirts and wondering if Bo needs anything. I enjoy shopping, but since there’s not much I need for myself, I like to take the time to get things for others. Buying presents is even better than getting things for me.

“No, it’s not.”

I look up to see that Camille has pulled open the heavy curtain and stands with hands on hips, glaring at me.

I don’t want to focus on the glare because those hips…

Since she’s been here, every time I’ve seen Camille, she’s been wearing some shapeless dress or baggy clothes, so much that I’ve forgotten that there is a body under those clothes. One with curves and curves. Curvy curves.

“I like those jeans,” I say unnecessarily since I can’t stop staring. Faded blue, snug in all the right areas, worn with a rust-coloured shirt that also hugs certain… things. She’s even taken the time to sling a belt into the loops, the brown leather emphasizing a tiny waist.

I had my arm around that waist yesterday and I’m hit with a very strong urge to put my arm around it again. Maybe both arms. “And that’s a nice shirt.”

“You’re not buying them.”

“Okay,” I say, my gaze fixed on how Camille’s hand settles on her hip. “I mean—no, I’ll get them for you.” I drag my eyes upward, to her heart-shaped face and stormy eyes. “It’s my treat.”

“I don’t need a treat,” she says slowly.

I blink. “I know that,” I stumble on the words because seeing her in something other than grey is more of a treat for me than unicorn froth can ever be.

“You’re not paying for my clothes. This isn’t some Pretty Woman shopping trip.”

“But I’d like to,” I tell her. “You’re my guest.”

Kate sighs. “He likes buying things for people,” she says to Camille. “It’s not worth arguing.”

“I’m not people,” Camille insists. “And I’m not a guest. I’m going to be your wife and I pay my own way.”

I hold up my hands in surrender as I take a step toward her. “You are going to be my wife, and that means you’ll be joining the royal family, which means, you’ll have access to the royal coffer, as you call it.

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