The Billionaire Prince’s Fake Girlfriend by Leslie North

5

Jane didn’t want to admit it, but the flight from London to Reinia in the sweet little G6 had been a shock. Now, as she and Ben rode in a limousine through the streets of Reinia, she was positively gobsmacked.

“It’s lovely,” she breathed, all but hanging out the window to make sure she didn’t miss anything. It rather reminded her of Austria, actually. Cobblestone streets, lots of shops and bakeries that smelled heavenly, window-boxes full of geraniums spilling over with blooms, all sorts of gingerbread-styled decorations underneath the eaves. It was like something out of a storybook.

“It is rather nice, isn’t it?” Ben reclined against the leather seats, staring at her rather than looking out the window—which made sense, she guessed. He was used to this view, after all, and this opulence. She must look like the worst sort of bumpkin, but she frankly didn’t care. Being a lifestyle columnist didn’t exactly foot the bill for exotic getaways, and she’d certainly never accompanied a prince anywhere.

“It’s gorgeous, and you know it,” she pointed out, arching an eyebrow at him.

“Wait till you see the palace,” he said, his gaze as warm as his smile as he studied her. “Been in the family for generations, obviously, but it has a more Mediterranean design than northern European.”

She couldn’t help it. She rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m sure it’ll be adequate,” she said dryly, then playfully smacked him. “Somehow I’ll make do.”

He laughed, and she grinned back. That is until she actually saw the palace.

“Oh, my giddy aunt,” she said, one of her granddad’s favorite expressions. Really, she wasn’t sure what other expression of surprise would suffice.

The place was enormous, a monument-like building of pale, gleaming sandstone. The whole front facade was flanked in columns, reflecting the afternoon sun. There were potted trees between each column. It did remind her of the Mediterranean, she realized—like some sumptuous pleasure palace for a discontented emperor. “It’s magnificent.”

“It’s home,” Ben said, with a shrug, and he seemed... uncomfortable? As she pondered it, her brain snapped into gear. She wondered if it was because of why they were there—and who was inside the palace.

She realized, abruptly, that she was about to meet his parents. Worse, that she was helping him investigate one—and deceiving the other. She swallowed against the sudden rush of nerves.

A stately woman with Ben’s eyes and short but stylishly cut hair came out, walking past the royal guards who stood post by the door. “Ben, dear,” she said, holding out her hands. “It’s good to have you home.”

“Mother.” Ben’s smile was warm, and he walked up to her, giving her a quick hug. Jane couldn’t help it. She felt a little pang of envy. She knew from their phone conversation that Ben and his mother were close, and he obviously didn’t mind being affectionate in public. She knew plenty of men, royal or not, who would feel too threatened to show affection to their mothers, but Ben had no such hang-ups, giving the older woman a decidedly un-royal kiss on the top of her silver hair. His mother smiled back with obvious amusement.

“How’s Father?” he asked, releasing her.

Jane could immediately sense the tension that seeped into Ben at the mention of his father. She could see the strain around his eyes, and in the tight clench of his jaw.

His mother looked strained as well. “He’s resting,” she said. “Wasn’t really feeling up to coming down, and I didn’t insist. I’m sure you can catch up at dinner.”

“I think I may be busy for dinner,” Ben quickly hedged... then glanced over at Jane. His mother followed suit, her eyes opening in surprise.

“Well, now. Who’s this?”

“Mother, I’d like you to meet Jane Gallagher,” he said, gesturing to Jane to step forward. Jane’s heart raced a little, but she put her best friendly reporter face on. She didn’t have to be nervous—no matter why she was here.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty,” Jane said, then gave a quick curtsy. The queen smiled broadly.

“Aren’t you precious,” the queen said, this time holding her hand out to Jane, who shook it. “As traditional a family, and a kingdom, as we have, I don’t stand on ceremony. Especially for one of Ben’s... friends?” She pitched the last word up, a question, as she looked over at Ben.

“We’re dating,” Ben said, and if possible, his mother’s eyes went wider. “It’s a relatively new thing, just a few weeks.”

“And you still brought her home,” the queen mused, looking at Jane curiously. “How in the world did you two meet?”

They’d practiced this. Jane leaned against Ben, letting him wrap his arm around her shoulders. “We met at a restaurant,” Jane said. “The table where I was sitting had a vase of chrysanthemums...”

“Oh, no,” the queen said, shaking her head and smiling.

“He started sneezing like crazy. I said bless you several times, but after the sixth time or so, I told him that I’d have to perform an exorcism if he kept it up.” She knew her smile was probably cheeky, but it made the queen laugh. Ben was grinning, too, just like he had when she’d come up with the idea. It wasn’t too far from the truth, after all.

“So you wound up having dinner, I assume?” the queen said, eyes twinkling, again so like Ben that Jane was wistful.

“Once we got rid of the flowers, yes.” Jane shifted the weight on her feet. “He said that he was coming back to Reinia, for your traditional gala.”

“And I realized I didn’t want to be away from her for that long, and insisted that she come with me,” Ben added, winking at her. She knew it was for show, but she had to admit—either he was getting better at lying, or she was starting to buy into the act herself, something she really needed to lock down. “If that’s all right, Mother?”

“Of course it’s all right,” she reassured him. She looked Jane over, and for a second, Jane felt horribly guilty. She seemed like a lovely woman.

The guilt only compounded when the queen nodded, as if coming to some sort of internal conclusion. “I like this one,” she stage-whispered to Ben. “She’s so... forthright. Like everything is simply out there on display.”

Jane didn’t know what she meant, but it obviously was code for something, since Ben’s brow quickly furrowed. “I like this one, too, Mother,” Ben said, and there was a firmness in his voice that put Jane on guard. “And I trust her. I’ve taken care of everything—don’t worry.”

Now Jane was completely lost in the subtext, looking from first Ben, to his mother, and then back. The queen seemed to take his statement with a small, stately nod. “If you’re sure,” she demurred.

“I am.” Ben’s voice was like steel.

“Well, then, I’ll have your luggage sent up to your suit,” the queen said. “And we’ll catch up later. Please, Jane, enjoy the kingdom, and if there’s anything you need, please let us know.”

“Thank you so much,” Jane said quickly.

She forced herself not to flinch in surprise when Ben took her hand, leading her on a brief tour of the castle. It wound up with his suite, a sumptuous collection of rooms that was easily twice the size of her flat in London. Their bags were already there. After a quick scout to see if there was anyone listening, she went to the living room and cornered Ben. “What was all that?”

“What was all what?” He went to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator. “And did you want something to drink? I have wine, beer. Sparkling water?”

“No, thank you,” she said, not deterred. “That whole forthright business. You got stern all of a sudden, and you’re never stern with your mother.”

“You’ve heard me talk to my mother twice,” he said, grinning at her over the refrigerator door. “How would you know?”

“I extrapolated, and stop trying to distract me,” she said, crossing her arms. “What gives?”

He sighed. “I might’ve known you’d pick up on it,” he said. “It was my way of telling her not to have you investigated.”

Jane goggled. “She was going to what?”

He sighed, opening his beer and leaning against a counter. “I had an incident, when I was in uni,” he said, his voice tinged with regret. “I was dating a woman... had dated, I should say, for a few years. Alessandra. I was serious about her. Even thought about proposing, if you can believe it.”

Jane blinked slowly.

“Imagine my chagrin when I discovered that it was all a big hoax, a con job,” he said, and the bitterness dripped from his words. “Alessandra had studied me. Pretended to like everything I liked, just ‘happened’ to show up at places where I planned to be. She couldn’t have been more perfect for me if I’d designed her. I now see that it was because she’d designed herself to be my perfect mate.”

“Oh my God,” Jane said, standing next to him. “That’s terrible.”

“It got worse,” he said. “She wanted to marry me—to be the Princess of Reinia, with access to all the money that she would be entitled to. But the whole time she was seeing me, she was also seeing someone else—the man she was really in love with. The one who helped her develop this stupid little plot.” He shook his head. “She had every intention of marrying me and seeing him on the side, funneling him cash, going on vacations or whatever.”

“That bitch!”

He blinked, as if yanked out of memories. “Yes. Well. Rather.”

“Sorry,” Jane muttered. “What happened to her?”

“Obviously, I broke it off with her,” he said, and his expression was hard as stone. “She hadn’t necessarily committed a crime, and I didn’t want to open the family up to that kind of scrutiny. But it was a terrible betrayal. We also made it very clear that if she tried anything like that again... things would not go well for her.”

“I should say so.” Jane huffed. “I’m of half a mind to track her down and smack her myself.”

He looked surprised, then amused. “You’re a bit of a pistol, aren’t you?”

She shrugged. “I just don’t like seeing people get away with things,” she said stoutly.

“And I don’t like people lying to me,” he said quietly.

Something suddenly clicked for her. “How many relationships have you had since then?”

He cleared his throat. “I was thinking Italian food for dinner,” he said. “It’s early yet, but there’s a lovely place on the coast that a friend of mine...”

“You haven’t gotten close to anyone since then,” she interjected. “Not seriously. Nothing long term.”

He sighed. “Tell me. Are you ever tired of being right?”

Her heart hurt for him. He’d had a tough time of it. What the woman did had obviously traumatized him, and now his father’s lying only rubbed salt in the wound. He’d built up a protective barrier around himself, just to try to armor himself against the betrayals and failings of the people around him. It sounded terribly, terribly lonely.

He deserved so much better than that.

She leaned against his side, resting her head on his shoulder for a second, as if she could communicate what she was feeling through osmosis. “I will never lie to you,” she finally said.

He was silent, and she wondered if she’d overstepped. Then she felt his head tilt, resting on hers for a moment, before he cleared his throat. “I won’t lie to you either,” he said gruffly.

She tensed. “Not that we’re, you know, dating.”

“Just for show,” he said. “So, Italian?”

She nodded, feeling suddenly flustered. “Italian it is.”