<P>If I had to pick a bride of convenience my first choice would <I>not</I> be Peach Maloney.</p><p>My fiftieth choice would <I>not</I> be Peach. Top spot on my list of occupational hazards? Yes. Royal pain in the crumpets? Yes. A bride of convenience? No.</p><p>But I've unexpectedly gone from royal bodyguard to monarch having inherited a crown that was stolen from my family long before my birth. The kicker of this unexpected royal gift? In order to take the throne I must find a wife.</p><p>Have I mentioned Peach would <I>not</I> have been my hundredth choice? But I've no other options and she needs a favor that my new position can fulfill quite nicely. So we've agreed to play the doting newlyweds out in public.</p><p>In private though our rules are simple: No touching. No talking. And certainly no sex.</p><p>I should have known better than to marry a rule-breaker.</p><p>Contains mature themes.</P>