The King and Jai
Royal & Reckless #1
Isla Olsen
Moonwalker Press
Contents
Stay in Touch
About This Book
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Stay in Touch
Also by Isla Olsen
Copyright 2020 Isla Olsen
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means without the express written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in an article or book review.
All people, events and places featured in this book are products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious context. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Cover Copyright 2020 Vivian Monir VM Designs
Created with Vellum
Keep in touch with Isla by joining her Facebook Group!
You can also join her mailing list for news, book deals and exclusive offers!
Never miss a new release - follow Isla on Amazon, Facebook, Instagram and Bookbub!
About This Book
JAI
For the record, sleeping with my boss was not part of the plan when I started this new job. A job I desperately need to get my parents off my back about my chosen career path.
But the second I catch sight of Lukas Romansky in the flesh, I know I’m in trouble. The guy is pure sex wrapped in a three-piece suit, and not even his stuffy attitude or the way he seems to despise me on sight is enough to stifle my attraction.
But I’m here to work, not to hook up. It doesn’t matter how sexy Lukas is, or how sweet he is with his children—sleeping with the boss is never a good idea.
Oh, and did I mention my boss also happens to be the king?
Yes, King Lukas III of Korova, the man voted World’s Sexiest Head of State three years in a row. Hooking up with him wouldn’t just be a bad idea, it would be an international scandal.
So believe me when I say I didn’t come to Korova with the intention of seducing the king. But sometimes things just happen. And is it my fault I’m impossible to resist?
1
JAI
“Nervous flyer, hon?”
“Huh?” I blink a couple of times at the elderly woman seated next to me, and it’s not until she cants her head toward my hands that I realize I’m tapping them against my knees in a jittery rhythm. I make myself pause the movement and clasp my hands together in my lap instead. “Not particularly,” I tell her. “I guess I’m just a little nervous about where I’m headed.”
“Oh? And where’s that?”
It’s not an unreasonable question. I booked this flight last minute, so the only one I could get was with a connection via London.
“Have you heard of Korova? It’s in Eastern Europe.”
Her mouth turns down into a thoughtful frown as she tries to place the name. “Is that in Ukraine? I’ve heard of Ukraine.”
I just barely manage not to roll my eyes. Everyone’s heard of Ukraine. “Um, no, it’s right next to it, though. It’s a tiny little country squeezed between Ukraine and Belarus.”
“And you’re worried the Russians are going to blow it up?”
I blink at her several times. “Um, no, not particularly. I’m starting a new job there.”
And it has to go well… This is pretty much my last opportunity to prove to my parents I haven’t just wasted the last six years—not to mention all the money they spent on tuition—pursuing a career path they deem to be completely useless and fanciful. It’s also the only chance I’m going to get to earn enough to pay for my PhD without resorting to the unappealing option of crippling student loans. Lord knows my folks aren’t going to spend another dime, even if they can more than easily afford it.
I feel my phone vibrate in my back pocket and dig it out to check the message.
Owen Kelly: Okay you were right. Blake and I worked things out
I smile at the message, glad to know my buddy’s finally come to his senses and that he’s allowing himself to be happy with the man he loves.
Me: Of course I was right. I’m brilliant
I quickly type out the reply and power down my phone, because I can see the flight attendant wandering up the aisle doing a final check before take off.
I’d assumed the conversation with the woman next to me had ended, but I probably should have known better. I’d put her at about seventy, and she reminds me a lot of Betty White in that movie with Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds. Fluffy blonde hair, a sparkling smile and a sweet, friendly voice that makes the idea of simply putting earphones in and ignoring her seem cruel.
“What’s the job?” she asks.
I have to think for a moment, before remembering I’d told her I’m going to Korova for a new job. “I’m going to be a tutor for a family there.”
“Oh, that sounds interesting.” She pats the arm of the woman who’s already asleep in the seat next to her. “My wife and I are off to England to see all the castles. I want to see where the queen lives, and where they filmed Downton Abbey. And Alma wants to visit all the famous battle sites.”
“Sounds like a great holiday,” I say with a smile.
Fortunately, Betty White’s doppelganger—whose name I learned later is Marty—didn’t keep me talking the entire flight to London, and I was able to get a couple hours’ sleep. Which turns out to be a good thing, because I had no such luck on either of my connecting flights, so by the time I land at Vlalens International Airport, Korova, I am utterly exhausted.
After clearing immigration and collecting my luggage, I head through the door into the arrivals area of the small airport. When I accepted this job, I was told someone
