Sky
I was a sucker for love. An even bigger sucker for men who promised forever. Since I was a boy I’ve wanted two things: kissing books and true love. I’m a senior editor now but every prince turns into a toad. I’ve been cheated on, used, and my engagement crashed and burned on my birthday. I’ve given up on love, not romance. I never wanted an eavesdropping influencer to ruin my career by posting my rant about how dukes are terrible love interests, overrated British accents, and love being stupid. Now I’m in an airport covered in an entitled jerk’s coffee—of course he has a snooty English accent—halfway to my exile in the wilds of Canada where no one can hear me if I scream love is stupid.

Becks As the future Duke of Canterbury, I should decide who I marry, but Father has given me a list of entirely unsuitable women from which I may choose. I need a wife, an heir, a spare. I’m going to a cottage so isolated it requires a seaplane to reach. I’ll hide, enjoy the solitude, do a cold plunge, and come to terms with giving up men. It’s my duty—no, honor and privilege—to become the man society expects. There’s one tiny problem...