#ONTOUR Royal Games, a brand-new epic road trip contemporary romance by USA Today Bestselling author T.K. Leigh is NOW LIVE and we are on tour!
Every girl dreams of falling in love with a prince.
When I met Jeremy, I thought he was my prince
Caring. Compassionate. Sensitive.
And, unfortunately for me, not attracted to women.
So here I am, thirty years old and divorced when most of my
friends are just getting married. In desperate need of a restart, I set off on
a road trip to learn how to love myself again.
The last thing I expected was to meet him.
Anderson North.
Mysterious. Enigmatic. Sexy as hell.
And, after a malfunction with my rental car, my new road
companion.
Can I give this man a piece of my heart after having it
broken?
Can I learn to trust again after having that trust betrayed?
When he reveals his deepest secret, can I look beyond the lies and toward the only thing that matters?
I've always dreamed of finding my very own Prince Charming.
Download your copy Today!
Apple Books: https://apple.co/2rFcogY
Amazon US: https://amzn.to/3btGzIw
Amazon Universal: mybook.to/RoyalGames
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Amazon US: https://amzn.to/3btGzIw
Amazon Universal: mybook.to/RoyalGames
All other retailers: http://bit.ly/2wNlhHk
EXCERPT
“Car trouble?”
A voice comes out of nowhere, startling me. I straighten and smack my head into the hood.
“Crap,” I hiss out as I rub the sore spot.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, gorgeous.”
If the accent weren’t a dead giveaway regarding the owner of the voice, the nickname confirms it. Stepping back, my eyes lock onto Anderson’s, a sexy smirk on his lips.
“What’s wrong with your car?”
“It wouldn’t start a few minutes ago. When it finally did, it wouldn’t go over twenty-five miles an hour.”
He gestures toward the engine. “Mind if I take a look?”
“You know something about cars?”
“I can get by.”
I step away, allowing him to take a look under my hood.
The car’s hood. Not my hood.
He bends down, toying with different parts of the engine. My heart rate increases as I watch him check the oil, grease getting on his hands. There’s something oddly erotic about watching a man as handsome as Anderson working on a car, the corded muscles in his forearms straining, his brow creased in confusion.
His broad shoulders pull at the fabric of his shirt, and I’m able to make out the defined muscles of his back. When his t-shirt lifts, it reveals a sliver of olive-toned skin. I wonder if he has that little V at his waist all women seem to lose their minds over. In my fantasy, he most certainly does.
In my fantasy, I even lick the ridges of that V, all the way to his—
“Nothing looks off,” he comments, facing me.
I inhale a sharp breath, his sudden movement taking me by surprise.
“Is that right?”
“That’s right.” His voice oozes with sin as he advances toward me.
With each step he takes, I take one in retreat, my heart pounding in my chest.
When my back hits the side of a Jeep Wrangler parked a few spots from mine, I pray the owner doesn’t choose this second to need his car.
“Nora…,” he exhales, angling closer.
I inhale his intoxicating scent, a combination of the ocean and fresh rain. “Yes?”
“You…”
“Yes?”
He draws near, his lips skimming mine. “Need to move.”
His words snap me out of my trance.
“I need to get into the glove box.” He nods at the Jeep behind me. “That’s my car.”
“Oh. Right.”
A voice comes out of nowhere, startling me. I straighten and smack my head into the hood.
“Crap,” I hiss out as I rub the sore spot.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, gorgeous.”
If the accent weren’t a dead giveaway regarding the owner of the voice, the nickname confirms it. Stepping back, my eyes lock onto Anderson’s, a sexy smirk on his lips.
“What’s wrong with your car?”
“It wouldn’t start a few minutes ago. When it finally did, it wouldn’t go over twenty-five miles an hour.”
He gestures toward the engine. “Mind if I take a look?”
“You know something about cars?”
“I can get by.”
I step away, allowing him to take a look under my hood.
The car’s hood. Not my hood.
He bends down, toying with different parts of the engine. My heart rate increases as I watch him check the oil, grease getting on his hands. There’s something oddly erotic about watching a man as handsome as Anderson working on a car, the corded muscles in his forearms straining, his brow creased in confusion.
His broad shoulders pull at the fabric of his shirt, and I’m able to make out the defined muscles of his back. When his t-shirt lifts, it reveals a sliver of olive-toned skin. I wonder if he has that little V at his waist all women seem to lose their minds over. In my fantasy, he most certainly does.
In my fantasy, I even lick the ridges of that V, all the way to his—
“Nothing looks off,” he comments, facing me.
I inhale a sharp breath, his sudden movement taking me by surprise.
“Is that right?”
“That’s right.” His voice oozes with sin as he advances toward me.
With each step he takes, I take one in retreat, my heart pounding in my chest.
When my back hits the side of a Jeep Wrangler parked a few spots from mine, I pray the owner doesn’t choose this second to need his car.
“Nora…,” he exhales, angling closer.
I inhale his intoxicating scent, a combination of the ocean and fresh rain. “Yes?”
“You…”
“Yes?”
He draws near, his lips skimming mine. “Need to move.”
His words snap me out of my trance.
“I need to get into the glove box.” He nods at the Jeep behind me. “That’s my car.”
“Oh. Right.”
About T.K. Leigh
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