The Billionaire Prince’s Fake Girlfriend by Leslie North

20

Ben paced outside the medical building where Jane was meeting with the genetic counsellor. Even though he thought it was a good step—hell, he’d been the one to encourage her to find out, one way or the other—he suddenly understood her terror at knowing conclusively whether she had the gene that would predispose her to early-onset Alzheimer’s. It wasn’t a death sentence, obviously. Many people could have the gene and not have symptoms for many years, and just because she had the gene didn’t mean she should stop living her life. But knowing that she had the gene would be like starting the clock on a time bomb.

If she had it...

He gritted his teeth together, hard enough that his jaw hurt. He needed to distract himself.

He picked up his phone, dialing his mother. He hadn’t really talked to her since he’d stormed away from Reinia, heading towards Manchester. Jane wasn’t the only person he needed to apologize to. She answered on the first ring.

“Ben?”

“Mother.” He sighed.

“I’m so sorry,” she said quickly. “You have every right to be angry. We kept this a secret from you. But there were things you don’t know about...”

“Don’t worry,” he interrupted. “I know now.”

“You do?”

“I met Jess,” he said, in a low voice. “I’m the one who needs to be sorry, Mother. I should have known that you had good reasons for doing what you did. I still don’t agree with Father’s early actions, but if you’ve forgiven him, then it’s not up to me to judge him. And you were both doing what you could to help someone in a very desperate situation. I would like to think I would do the same, under the circumstances.”

His mother was quiet for a long moment. “Thank you, son,” she said, her voice heavy with emotion. “It was a difficult time. I can only hope that Kate and Jess were able to get some peace, considering.”

He nodded. “I can’t talk about it here,” he said, looking around the parking lot where he was pacing. “But I just... I wanted to talk to you. I shouldn’t have stormed off like I did, either.”

“All right,” his mother said briskly, “who are you, and what have you done with my son?”

He chuckled ruefully. “It’s been pointed out that I may be a bit rigid,” he said. “By two women who mean a lot to me. My girlfriend, and my... sister.”

The word sounded nice, he realized.

His mother seemed to agree with a soft little sigh. “Your girlfriend,” she focused on instead. “That lovely woman that you brought to the palace? I do hope we get to see her again.”

“I hope that, too,” he admitted. They hadn’t talked about logistics—hadn’t even discussed what their relationship status was, despite their confessions of love. There was simply too much going on. “She’s got a... medical issue, that she’s addressing, but hopefully we’ll be able to talk next steps.”

“Nothing too serious, I hope?” his mother said, her voice concerned.

God, I hope not.

“Well, we’ll find out soon,” he said instead. “At any rate, I just wanted to talk to you a bit, to make sure that things between us are all right. And then, when I get home, I’d like to sit down and talk to you a bit more about everything.”

“I’d like that, too,” his mother said. “Thirty-five years is a long time to keep a secret.”

“I’m glad you’re trusting me with it,” he said, hoping that he’d earned that trust.

“You’ve mellowed,” his mother noted. “Since meeting this girl.”

“Jane’s wonderful,” he said, smiling. “I... I want Father to meet her. And I want to talk to him, too, when I go home.”

Now there was a long beat of silence. “That would be wonderful,” she said, her voice cracking. “It will mean so much to him, too. I know that you two haven’t always been close, but he’s always loved you, even if he hasn’t been very good at showing it. He’s always been so dogged about his work, about changing things in Reinia. But he’s mellowed, too, especially since the stroke. I think that now is the perfect opportunity to get to know each other.”

He wasn’t sure about that, but he wanted to leave the door open. He also got the feeling that if anyone could charm his father, it’d be Jane.

He glanced at his watch. Jane should be out of her appointment any minute. “I have to run. Love you, Mother.”

“I love you too, Ben.”

He rang off, then headed back to the lobby. After about ten minutes, Jane emerged from a closed door.

The first thing he noticed was her eyes, damp with tears. His heart clenched, his blood turning to ice.

Oh, God, no.

He rushed to her side, holding her tightly. “Oh, God,” he said quickly. “Are you all right? No, of course you’re not. But... but you will be all right. I promise.”

She let out a watery laugh. “Ben...”

“I’ll make sure you have the best doctors,” he said. “I mean... you’ve got years yet, potentially, yes? A lot can happen in that time frame. I know medical professionals at the top universities, here and on the continent. My friend Nic probably has resources as well, as does his wife. I’ll personally fund the research.”

She was shaking against him, her head buried against his chest. Panic engulfed him, and he stroked her hair.

“We have to have hope,” he said fiercely. “You can’t give up faith. And no matter how much time you have, no matter what happens... I want to be there for you. I love you, and I am not going to let you go through any of this alone, do you hear me? As long as you let me, I want to help you through this.”

“Will you shush?” she finally said, pulling away. Yes, she was crying, but her smile was like the sun.

“Jane?” he asked, unsure.

She shook her head. “I don’t have it,” she said, her voice breaking. “I don’t have the gene!”

It took him a second for it to sink in. Then he whooped until she shushed him again, hurrying him out of the building. Once they were at his car, he picked her up, swinging her around until she let out a peal of triumphant laughter.

“I love you,” he repeated.

“I love you, too,” she echoed, kissing him hard.

“This calls for a celebration,” he said. “What’s your favorite restaurant? We’re going to have the best dinner you’ve ever had.”

* * *

Jane was frankly shocked that Ben could get them a reservation at one of her favorite restaurants in Brixton... then she wasn’t. Because he was, after all, a prince, and that seemed like the sort of thing they were able to do. Still, it was lovely and thoughtful. The ambiance seemed almost dreamlike: the royal blue cushions and trim against a slate gray accent wall, the glossy, warm wooden table, the wildflowers in their small vases, the light Italian marble beneath glorious racks full of assorted wine.

They had the five-course tasting menu, feasting on fresh-baked sourdough bread with whipped butter, roasted beetroot and aubergine salad, pillow-light agnolotti pasta stuffed with fresh girolle mushrooms, Devon duck with blackberry reduction and sweet corn, each course with a perfectly paired drink. They only differed on dessert. He chose the Wigmore cheesecake with an apple chutney and brown butter—she chose dark chocolate, creme fraiche, and honeycomb. They took turns sampling each other’s plates, feeding each other savory bites until they were low-lidded and sleepy with food pleasure.

“That,” she all but hummed, “was the best meal of my life.”

He smiled at her, his dark brown eyes warm with affection. “I look forward to sharing even more meals with you.” Then he fidgeted, frowning a little.

She frowned in return. He’d been like this all evening, she realized. She was still riding the post-diagnosis euphoria. She hadn’t realized just how large the possibility of the gene had loomed in her subconscious, thinking she’d safely tucked the worries away, but now that she knew conclusively that she was in the clear, it was like... like dancing on a cloud, she thought. Like the world was spread out in front of her like a banquet, inviting her to try anything, enjoy herself. She had time.

She took a deep breath, toying with her wine glass. She loved Ben, and he loved her. It might seem quick, but if her recent near-miss had taught her anything—if her mother’s condition had taught her anything—it was that tomorrow was promised to no one. She was free. So quick or not, she wasn’t wasting any time.

“Do you think you have a chance at that investigative journalist position? At the Current?” Ben asked, his voice curiously hesitant.

She shrugged. “I suppose. There are a ton of hungry reporters who are dying to make it over to hard news, both inside the paper itself, and from other places... freelancers, competing publications, you name it. If I can come up with something strong, and do it in a hurry, I might have a shot. They know me, at least.” She tilted her head, considering.

“Will it bother you if you don’t get the job?” he pressed.

“I thought it would,” she mused. “But now, after today? I don’t mind. I still want to be an investigative journalist, don’t get me wrong. And I still want to make a difference. But I think there are a lot of different ways I can do that.”

“Oh?”

Her mind whirred slowly, playing with options, teasing with opportunities. “I could dig deeper and write thoughtful pieces for any number of publications, as a freelancer myself. I could actually do a true deep dive and write a nonfiction book.” She’d never really considered it before, but the more she thought about it, the more it appealed. She started chuckling. “Wouldn’t that be wild? I could be a true crime writer if I wanted! Just like our cover story.” She shook her head at the absurdity of it.

But Ben wasn’t laughing. Instead, he reached over, taking her hand in his and squeezing gently.

“I like those options,” he said. “But I can’t help but notice—if you did those, it wouldn’t matter where you lived, would it?”

It felt like her heart stopped, then quickly beat in double time. She shook her head again, slowly.

“No,” she murmured. “No, it wouldn’t matter. I could live anywhere.”

He took a deep breath, as if gathering courage. “Could you live with me?” he asked softly. “Because I want you with me, always.”

She gripped his hand reflexively, swallowing hard. “In Reinia?”

“If you’re amenable, yes,” he said. “I would love to really show you my island, and help you get to know my people. But if you would rather live in London...” He grimaced. “We’ll figure it out. I swear, I’ll figure out some sort of solution.”

And he would, too, she realized. He wanted so badly to make her happy. He wanted to make things right.

Good thing what was right for her was ultimately right for him, as well.

“I would love to be with you, in Reinia,” she said, and a smile burst across his face. “I want to be with you.”

“I know it’s sudden...”

She smiled at him, shaking her head. “It’s right,” she countered. “I have instincts about this sort of thing.”

He picked up her hand, brushing a kiss across her knuckles that heated her right to her toes. “I promise, I’ll do everything I can to make sure you never regret this decision.”

“It’ll be an adventure,” she replied. One she was looking forward to.

He leaned over and kissed her, a kiss filled with happiness, and a hint of things to come. She kissed him back, with a few promises of her own.