She was a long way from home, here in the countryside near Dorchester, in the county of Dorset in the south-west of England. In her less-than-steady hand she held the smartphone Tristan had insisted on leaving with her on the last day she’d seen him. It was only afterwards that she’d realised why. If she needed to get in touch with him she doubted the castle staff would put through a call to the crown prince from some unknown Australian girl. The phone had been charging for the last hour. She had never used it—rather had kept to her resolve never to contact him. That had not been easy in the sad black weeks that had followed the moment when he had stumbled from her car and had not looked back. But she had congratulated herself on how well she had come through the heartbreak of having her prince in her life for such a short time before she’d had to let him go. The only time she had broken down was when she had flicked through a gossip magazine to be suddenly confronted by an article about the crown prince of Montovia’s upcoming birthday celebrations.
What do You think about Crown Prince's Chosen Bride (2015)?
