The Billionaire Prince’s Fake Girlfriend by Leslie North

12

Ben woke the next morning with Jane in his arms, cuddled up to him, little spoon to his big spoon. He took a deep breath at the nape of her neck, taking in the seductive, floral scent of her. They’d barely gotten any sleep. He wasn’t kidding: if they only had one night together, he was damned sure he was going to make it worth his while. Now, he found himself wanting to draw out their time. He knew that the hotel would hardly hurry him out, so he got up, used the bathroom, then ordered a sumptuous breakfast, ushering it in as quietly as he could.

Unfortunately, his efforts to be quiet didn’t really work. Jane sat up, clad only in the bedding, her hair in riotous curls. “What’s all this?” she said around a yawn, stretching and rubbing one of her eyes with a small fist.

He grinned at her. “Thought you might be hungry,” he said, lifting the silver cover off of what turned out to be a batch of piping hot fresh croissants.

“I did get a lot of exercise last night,” she said with a naughty smile that hit him right in the gut. He smiled back, wondering if they could perhaps stretch the deal to this morning, at least.

He knew what she was saying: this was too important. Still, there was a terrible stab of loss at the thought of breaking off what they had.

“Croissant?” he offered instead. She made grabby hands, which made him chuckle, shaking off his dark thoughts. He handed her a croissant and a napkin, amused when she broke off pieces to eat in bed, her back propped up against the headboard. He followed suit, taking a small bowl of yogurt and sitting next to her.

She studied him, curious. “What were you like as a kid?”

He blinked. That was not what he was expecting. Honestly, it was not something many people asked—not the infrequent women he dated, not even the press. His traitorous ex-girlfriend had known all about him, and he’d grown up under public scrutiny. “Why do you want to know?”

It must have come out cautiously, because she smirked at him. “Completely off the record, Ben. I know that there’s lots of people who think they know you because of stupid royal watch magazines and whatnot, but if anybody knows how much a story can leave out, it’s a journalist. What are you really like?”

He swallowed. It was an oddly vulnerable feeling, but also one that made him feel special. So few people wanted to look beyond the surface, the mien of royalty. They imposed a vision of Prince Charming on him, and he struggled against the stereotyping. But what could he tell her?

“I don’t know where to start,” he admitted.

“Tell me something embarrassing,” she said. “That’s one of the best ways to get to know someone.”

“Is it?” He raised an eyebrow at her, but she looked serious. “All right. Don’t laugh, but I believed in Santa Claus for a long time. Like, until I was ten, I think.”

Her eyes went round, and she snickered a little before obviously suppressing it. “Well, I guess when your parents are royalty, and you can get anything you want...”

“That’s the funny thing,” he said. “They actually hinted that he wasn’t real before that, but I told them flat out that they were wrong. Because if there wasn’t a Santa Claus, they would’ve lied to me. Why in the world would they lie to me? Who would do that to a child? I was actually kind of horrified at the thought, which made it that much harder for them to actually get me to hear the truth.” He shook his head. “Nic and Erik teased me mercilessly, and I was furious with my parents for a good week when they finally came clean.”

“Wow,” she said, finishing her croissant. “You, my friend, are hardcore.”

“You have to admit,” he said, taking a spoonful of yogurt and fruit, “the Santa Claus thing is a weird situation. You’re essentially carrying on this fraud and then making it worse by adding all these details. The flying reindeer! The chimney breaking and entering! The cookies and milk!”

“You have a point,” she replied, with obvious amusement. “And don’t even get me started on Elf on a Shelf. That thing’s creepy on a number of levels.”

“Thank God I never had to deal with that,” he said, chuckling with her. “It’s like Christmas as a dystopia. Bad enough that Santa sees you when you’re sleeping, but now he’s also got a little henchman popping up throughout your house?”

She let out a peal of laughter. “Oh my God, that’s terrible!”

They laughed together, leaning on each other. It felt homey. It felt good.

He didn’t want it to end.

“So now you have to tell me something embarrassing about you, and your childhood,” he said, finishing his breakfast and putting the bowl down. He propped his head up on an arm, taking in her pretty, heart-shaped face.

Her green eyes clouded. “Well, this isn’t funny, per se, but it is embarrassing,” she said. “When I was little, my mother used to call me Molly. I liked it, because it was something special, you know? My father never called me it. It was like her pet name for me. And we’d play games when she did.”

He frowned, unsure how that was embarrassing.

She sighed. “I found out later, when I went to the convalescent home where she’s staying, that when she was calling me Molly, she thought I was her friend from when she was a child. Her neighbor, Molly.” She sent him a lopsided, embarrassed smile. “The nickname I was so proud of? Was when she didn’t recognize me.”

He swallowed. Then, before he could think about it, he reached over and tugged her into his arms, snuggling her tight.

“Sorry,” she said. “That’s a bit of a bummer, isn’t it? Not a fun getting-to-know-you story.”

“It’s the truth,” he replied. “Your truth. I care about the real you, everything about you. I’m not looking to be entertained. You don’t have to put up a front for me.”

She sighed, nuzzling closer to his chest. “I very rarely talk about her,” she admitted. “But I feel like, especially given what you’re trying to do, you understand about family secrets, and the pain of the past, you know? And now that I’ve talked to you about it, it just feels safe. I feel like I’m just opening my mouth and stuff just...” She made a gesture with her hands from her mouth. “Tumbles out, whether I want it to or not.”

“I’m glad you trust me enough to not filter,” he said, and he meant it. “That had to be hard.”

“The hardest part, I think, is not really knowing my mother,” she said. “She left when I was young, so I never really got to know who she was before she was my mother, you know? When you’re an adult, you learn more about your parents’ pasts. My mother’s family is gone, and my father doesn’t speak about her at all. It’s like my mother is a fictional character, someone I barely remember, someone with a filmy, mysterious past. If I knew more about her, I think I’d feel better.”

Yes, he could see that about her. She needed to know things—she needed the truth. He could relate. In fact, it was one of the things he admired most about her.

“I even tried tracking down some of her friends,” she said.

“Did she have old letters?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No, but she was part of her alumni network,” she said. “Unfortunately, I never found her password, so I couldn’t figure out who she’d friended, and it’s not like I could go to every single person in her graduating class and ask if they knew her. I don’t even know what dormitories she stayed in, or if she had flatmates, or anything.”

He stroked her hair. The not knowing was the worst, and considering she was one of the most tenacious, innovative reporters he knew, he could only imagine how frustrating it was for her, especially considering how personal it was.

Then he blinked as the gears in his head clicked.

“Alumni network,” he murmured. “Kate went to university with my father.”

Jane pulled back, looking at him with surprise. “Would your father even be involved in the university’s network? Given his position, I mean?”

“I get the feeling it would be the safest way for him to keep tabs on someone without revealing anything,” Ben said, with conviction. He should have thought of it before. “If nothing else, we can track the Kates who attended university at the same time, and see if we can find Katherine Barr. Lots of people add a ridiculous amount of personal information and details on social media. If nothing else, it can give us a clue as to where she is now, and what she’s doing.”

Jane nodded. Then she bit her lip. “I guess we’d better get back,” she said with obvious reluctance.

He stroked her cheek. “I don’t want to leave, either,” he said, in a low voice.

She sighed, then leaned forward, kissing him softly. “This is too important to you to abandon,” she said. “And one night is more than I thought I’d get. It was worth it, and I’ll never forget it.”

“Neither will I,” he said, wishing against all common sense that somehow, they could keep seeing each other. But she was right: it was too important for him to get to the bottom of this.

“All right, then,” she said, getting up. “Let’s head back to the palace and see if we can do some digging.”