Publication date: June 25th, 2024
Synopsis:
What happens when an architect has to work with the far-too-tempting prince she shared one magical evening with in Paris? Find out in Scarlett Clarke's debut for Harlequin Romance!
ONE STARLIT NIGHT IN PARIS
Architect Maddie is still thinking about her steamy kiss with a stranger when she walks into her meeting the next morning... And finds her new client, Nicholai, is that stranger and a prince! No matter how incredible the attraction, he's now completely off-limits. He's her boss, a dutiful royal and she's sworn off men. But when their inevitable second kiss is caught on camera, there's only one solution to the impending scandal--faking their engagement!
From Harlequin Romance: Be swept away by glamorous and heartfelt love stories.
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Excerpt
She leaned over and picked up the sketch pad at her feet. Her fingers grabbed the bottom of her drawing and, before he could say anything, tugged. The penciled illustration of the Eiffel Tower tore free.
"Here."
He stared at the drawing, then back at her.
"For me?"
"Yes." Her eyes crinkled at the corners. "Something to remember Paris by when you go back home."
"I can't--"
"Yes, you can." She pressed the drawing into his hands before flipping through the sketches in the book. Images of Sacre-Coeur's elegant domes, vine-covered shops in Montmartre and the book-filled windows of Shakespeare and Company flew past. "I have plenty. I want you to have this. Please."
The please did him in. He nodded, unable to express his gratitude with words for fear he'd say something else, like telling her he wanted to see her again.
Let her go.
She grabbed the empty wine bottle and walked past him, a heady, sweet scent lingered in her wake Angry with himself and, for the first time in a long time, the role he was bound to, he followed.
She moved toward a door in the wall marked Escaliers, tossing the wine bottle into a refuse bin by the door. They both reached for the handle. Their hands brushed. Her sharp intake of breath pierced his armor. He looked down to see her face tilted up, eyes wide and lips parted, her blonde hair glowing in the moonlight. She watched him without guile, without assessment. She simply looked at him as a woman looked at a man she desired.
He couldn't have stopped himself if he'd tried. He leaned down and kissed her.
From sneaking behind the shelves of her local library to read a few pages of romance to absconding with her mom's copy of A Rose in Winter by Kathleen Woodiwiss, SCARLETT CLARKE has loved romance for as long as she can remember. By day, she works in public relations. By night, she powers through her most hated chore (laundry) and writes sweet, contemporary romance with strong heroes and the fierce heroines who make them realize true love really is possible.
When she's not reading or writing, shes wrangling her two little ones while trying yet again to plant a vegetable garden, visiting her husband at the fire station, or sitting on her front porch savoring a cup of hot tea and the sight of the Midwestern countryside.
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