Royally Unexpected Book 6 (Alternate Cover): Wrong Prince

One difference between regular people and royalty is that regular people knock before entering your home.

Royals, on the other hand?

Knocking isn’t part of their vocabulary.

The only warning I get that Prince Theo is at my house is the sound of a vehicle pulling up outside and the driver cutting the engine.

I assume it’s one of my parents’ friends or maybe a member of our household staff, and I ignore it.

The Crown Prince of Argyle bursts through the door in a blaze of abs and windswept hair, tearing the sunglasses off his bronzed face as he scans the room. A soft breeze follows after him, fluttering the edges of his linen shirt.

“Cara!” he calls out. I stand up, putting my book down on the sofa beside me. He flashes me a brilliant smile. “Come on. We’re going.”

Every word Theo speaks is a command. He was born a king, and a part of me likes when he speaks like that. There’s something attractive about confidence and power, even though I’d never be caught dead saying that out loud.

I’m more of the ‘don’t tell me what to do’ kind of gal—or at least that’s what I tell myself. The fluttering in my belly begs to differ.

I frown. “Go where?”

The Prince’s white linen shirt is unbuttoned, revealing his chiseled chest. He’s wearing teal swimming trunks and a pair of white leather boat shoes. He nods toward the open door, grinning.

“It’s the summer solstice. We have a tradition to uphold.”

My heart thumps uncomfortably. I thought our traditions had died when Prince Luca’s accident happened. That day, everything changed.

Three years ago, my betrothed, Prince Luca—Prince Theo’s little brother—jumped off a cliff into shallow water and broke his back. Luca has been trying to recover from his injuries in Singapore, undergoing countless operations and hours of physical therapy.

And me?

I’ve been shut out. Languishing on the other side of the world. Begging him to talk to me, and then slowly accepting that it’s over between us.

At first, I wanted to be there with him. The first year was hell. I called, and called, and called. I cried. I sent letters and messages. I sent him care packages and made sure to try to speak to him every day.

We have a special Post Office box, where we’ve been exchanging messages since we were kids. I checked it every day for a year, hoping he’d have sent me some note, some parcel, some sign that he cared.

Every day, it was empty.

Luca pushed me away. Slowly but surely, he stopped answering. The rest of the royal family backed away from me as my engagement to Luca fizzled. I didn’t just lose my fiancé, I lost all my closest childhood friends.

Luca, Theo, Beckett, Dante—all four brothers became strangers to me. It nearly killed me.

I even went to Singapore a year after the accident, but Luca refused to see me.

The second year, I was in a daze. I don’t remember much, except sleeping a lot and not eating much. The past three years have been the loneliest of my life.

It’s only in the past six months that I’ve started coming around again. Slowly, I’m starting to feel like myself again. I’m making plans for the future. Plans for myself.

But Theo’s standing here in front of me as if nothing at all has changed.

It has changed, though. Being pushed away by Luca is what finally made me decide to leave this Kingdom. I have to. It’s the only way I can move on from all this.

Next week, I’m flying to the United States to pursue my dream of becoming a singer. I’ve applied to two dozen colleges for voice programs and haven’t heard back from any of them, but that won’t stop me. I’m done with letting people push me away and beat me down. I’m stronger than that. I’ve stared into the abyss, and now, I’m walking away.

I’ll go to Los Angeles and work in a restaurant while I try to make it as a singer. I’ll plead with record executives. I’ll sing in dirty dive bars. I’ll do whatever it takes, even if my parents think singing is beneath our family name.

I need to go. Do something for myself. Pursue a dream I’ve had since I was a little girl—a dream that predates Luca, and Theo, and all the heartache that the royal family brought me.
Knowing that I’m leaving is the only thing that has kept me going.

Up until two minutes ago, I thought I’d never see the Princes of Argyle again. I thought all four brothers had turned their backs on me after Luca’s accident.

Apparently, I was wrong.

I clear my throat, combing my fingers through the ends of my long, brown hair. “Your Highness—”

“Cara,” Theo huffs, shaking his head. “Come on. Stop standing there like we didn’t spend every moment of our childhood together. Get your bathing suit on and get in my car. We’re sailing around the islands.”

Argyle is a Caribbean kingdom, complete with white, sandy beaches and waving palm trees. The Kingdom consists of about seventy islands, ranging from land masses the size of Cuba to small atolls with nothing but a single palm tree on them.

Nearly every year since I was seven years old, I’ve sailed around the Kingdom with the four Princes of Argyle. It takes just over two days to do it, and it’s been a highlight of my year, every year, since I was a little girl.

Three years ago, our tradition abruptly stopped. Luca had just had his accident, and we didn’t know whether he would recover. Sailing around the islands didn’t seem right.

Our yearly sailing trip was yet another thing I mourned.

Prince Theo, the eldest of the Princes of Argyle, stares at me, eyebrows raised. “Well?”

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