➳In order find your soul mate, one must endure the crises that life drags you through. Ellie and Logan are both individuals that have landed at a spot in which in my opinion, was destined to be taken care of. Though, connected through the royal reputation, Logan and Ellie are both different type of characters. He is the demanding for control type of man who has seen the farthest parts of the dark, to even kill for those who he cares. While Ellie is a sweet innocent young woman, that devours the idea of having a happily ever after with Logan. However, his status as her bodyguard, and the fact that she is far beyond to young for him has him taking restraint towards having and craving Ellie. She is a light of sunshine that bright his world, and even with time passing by, they both learn more and more about each other. He soon begins to understand that he cares for her, not just only for her safety and the position of his job, but also for the act of love that he has towards her.
➳Though Ellie at first seems to struggle with capturing the protective side of Logan, she soon understands that her lack of love comes from her father. As we know, Ellie and Olivia’s father has put himself in a situation that has brought some sort of sadness from his daughters. After loosing their mother from a murder accident, their father became one related to the alcohol environment. Not caring about the safety of his daughters, not being at important events of their lives that mark their point mark of something big like Ellie’s high school graduation. That’s when Logan steps in, and becomes a more than a bodyguard figure towards Ellie;
“It’s my job to keep Ellie Hammond safe. All of her. Her body as well as her sweet little soul. And I’m damn good at what I do, but more than that, I want to protect her. Because she’s kind and clever, lovely and precious… and fuck… somebody has to care enough to keep that safe…
➳As years pass, and Ellie lives her life while being protected by Logan, he soon begins to understand that his attraction towards her is no just only in the physical, but he craves to be around her, to be around her happiness, and cheery attitude, and most of all, her knowledge of the world and what fascinates her about it all. Ellie feels the same way about Logan. She is so enamored by his physical attraction and also to know the kind of life he used to have with his family, is something that has her craving his protection towards him. Once they both cave in and let their guard down, they are just INSEPARABLE! They need each other not just for a physical sense, but for a comforting attribute that is so refashioning to read about. Their passion and intimate scenes become something that you are addicted to and crave for more… at least that’s what I though;
“It’s genuine and raw-more than our bodies joining, it feels like our souls have too…”
➳Overall, this third installment to the Royally Series has you wanting more. In my head all I kept saying whenever I came across a new character that has potential of a story, I kept saying how much I want this character as a story, or this other peasant as a story, or the dog as a story… JUST something that does not let this series come to an end. Please Emma Chase, write more on this series and make it a powerful book!
Some men think with their cocks.
You know the type. Quick smooth-talkers, shifty eyes always scanning for a nice pair of legs, a set of full tits, or a tight arse they can pant after.
Other blokes think too much with their brains. You know that type too. Annoyingly careful, slow-moving, constantly parsing their words like they already know whatever they’re saying is going to come back and take a bite out of them.
I’m not either of those.
I always go with my gut. When it clenches with a warning, I act—no hesitation. When it tugs and nudges, I pause and reevaluate. When it twists and writhes, I know, guaranteed, I’ve cocked up big-time.
My gut is my best friend, my conscience, my most lethal asset.
And it has never let me down.
It’s my gut that drags me to her door. That roots me in place as I knock. That gives me the words—pleading, unfamiliar remorseful words—I’ll gladly say to make this right.
To get her back.
Because while my gut is brilliant, sometimes I can be a real fucking idiot.
Yesterday was one of those times.
“Ellie. It’s me—open up, we need to talk.”
I sense movement on the other side of the solid oak door—not in sounds or shifting shadows beneath it, but more of an awareness. I can feel her in there. Nearby and listening.
“Go away, Logan.”
Her voice is tight, higher-pitched than usual. Upset.
“Ellie, please. I was a twat, I know . . .” I’m not keen on begging from the hallway, but if that’s what it takes . . . “I’m sorry. Let me in.”
Ellie is difficult to anger, quick to forgive; she just doesn’t have it in her to hold a grudge. So her next words fall like an axe—cutting my legs right off from under me.
“No, you were right. The princess’s sister and the East Amboy bodyguard don’t make sense—we’ll never last.”
Did I actually say that to her? What the fuck is wrong with me? What I feel for her is the one thing in my life that makes sense. That matters.
But I never told her that.
Instead . . . instead, I said all the wrong things.
I brace my palm against the smooth wood, leaning forward, wanting to be as near to her as possible. “Elle . . .”
“I’ve changed my mind, Logan.”
If a corpse could speak, it would sound exactly like my Ellie does now. Flat, lifeless.
“I want the fairy tale. I want what Olivia has . . . castles and carriages . . . and you’ll never be able to give me that. I would just be settling for you. You’ll never be able to make me happy.”
She doesn’t mean that. They’re my words—the insecurities I put on her—that she’s hurling back in my face.
But God, it fucking hurts to hear. Physically hurts—stabbing deep into the pit of my stomach, crushing my chest, grinding my bones. I meant it when I said I would die for her . . . and right now, it feels like I am.
I grab the doorknob to walk inside, to see her face. To see that she doesn’t mean it.
“Don’t come in!” she screeches like I’ve never heard her before. “I don’t want to see you! Go away, Logan. We’re done—just go!”
I breathe hard—that’s what you do when pain wrecks you, breathe through it. Then I swallow bile, straighten up, turn around and walk down the hall. Away from her. Just like she wants, like she asked. Like she screamed.
My brain tells me to move faster—get the hell out of there, cut my losses and lick my wounds. And my heart—Christ—that poor bastard’s too battered and bloody to say anything at all.
But then, just over halfway down the hall, my steps slow until I stop completely.
Because my gut . . . it strains through the hurt. Rebels. It shouts that this isn’t right. This isn’t her. Something’s off.
And even more than that . . . something is very, very wrong.
I glance up and down the quiet hall—not a guard or a maid in sight. I look back at the door. Closed and silent and still.
Then I turn and march straight back to it. I don’t knock, or wait, or ask for permission. In one move, I turn the knob and step inside.
What I see there stops me cold.
Because whatever I was expecting, it sure as fuck wasn’t this.
Not at all . . .
Emma Chase is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the hot and hilarious Tangled series and The Legal Briefs series. Emma lives in New Jersey with her husband, two children and two naughty (but really cute) dogs. She has a long-standing love/hate relationship with caffeine.