Royal Fake Fiancé (Dirty Royals Book 4)

by Vivian Wood

  My heart beats faster at her words. I band down and kiss her mouth, taking all of the love I feel but can't say out loud and putting it into my kiss.

  We fuk again, exhausted, falling into the tangled sheets. At some point, I lose track of time. The sun goes down as I lie on my side, breathing heavily. Pippa falls asleep on my chest, curled against me.

  I do drowse a little bit, letting my mind drift. I get the feeling that I am in a fast moving stream, the water swelling as it reaches a low point before dropping away down a waterfall. That's how I feel about my current relationship with Pippa. I'm worried that if I don't go along with it and ease into the flow, I will miss something. But I already know that the date of our break up is looming up ahead.

  In two months, I supposed to give her up. And I don’t know how I’m going to do it.

  I'm not sure what I am supposed to do about it, exactly. All I can think of is that I have to just muster the courage to tell her how I really feel.

  I think that she wouldn't dismiss it out of hand. She would at least give me a chance.

  But I'm not sure. And my uncertainty about her reaction causes me to feel dread.

  The idea of Pippa not being present in my life anymore looms large. If I somehow cause that, I would not to know what to do with myself.

  Somehow I managed to fall asleep and I wake up a few hours later, finding Pippa beside me still. We seem to wake at the same time, our eyes meeting. She smiles at me.

  “So much for seeing the sights in Monte Carlo,” she should says shyly.

  I kiss her lips briefly, savoring her taste. Then I sit up with a sigh. “This is Monte Carlo. Some of the best spots are only to be viewed at night. That is, as long as you’re willing to take a little risk.”

  Her eyebrows raise a little. “Oh? You mean go out right now?”

  I cast my gaze down her naked body, pursing my lips. “That is, unless you have other plans…”

  She chuckles, rolling her eyes. “Even I have limits on my libido. Give it a couple of hours and I'm sure it will be back in full force.”

  I grin. “Well, I say we hit the strip, then. Downtown Monte Carlo it's basically a bunch of large hotels and casinos, all spaced out by shops and restaurants. We can get something to eat or grab a drink…”

  She brightens. “Does that mean we should dress up?”

  I smirk at her. “Monte Carlo wrote demands nothing less of us.”

  Just like that, she's climbing on the bed, rushing to her suitcases. She unzips a white garment bag, rifling through its contents excitedly. To my delight, she dresses herself in a simple but stunning black gown. It has high slits on each side and the satiny material is soft to the touch. I watch her get dressed, opting for a pair of dark dress pants and a white button up with the sleeves rolled up in the collar undone.

  Then we hit the strip on foot. Out to our left is the dazzling sea. Up ahead, the city lights gleam from gorgeous Mediterranean style buildings, the sandstone facades and the red copper roofs flickering against the night sky.

  We walk for a ways, Pippa clinging to my arm. We talk about nothing, laugh at everything. I look down at Pippa as we hit the crowded part of Monte Carlo, my heart so full that I can’t even speak. She looks at me, grinning, and pulls me into the first crowded bar she sees.

  The party is in full swing already, judging by the intensely loud music and the insane crowds once we get in the door. As I make it up the last couple of steps, I can actually feel the floor vibrating.

  At the top I stop and stare. The doors are thrown open and the party is so packed that it’s spilling out into the hall. Men in tuxes yell into the ears of ladies in ballgowns. There are people lined up for drinks from the bartenders at the bar set up just outside the doors.

  The liquor is flowing freely too, from the looks of it. We grab a couple of drinks and then head into the dance floor, shuffling and maneuvering to get past the crowd at the door. Inside, the electronica music is bright and sounds vaguely distorted, but I suppose that’s probably on purpose. The lights are lower here by the door and brighter over across the dance floor, centering on a small, tightly packed dance floor.

  Everywhere I can see, there are people dancing and chatting and drinking. Pippa dances against me and I try to keep up with her. I finish my drink quite quickly, ready for another. I don’t see any waiters, so I guess I’ll have to head back to the line outside.

  “I’m going to get another drink for both of us,” I shout into her ear.

  She sways to the music, giving me a thumbs up. I head out to the bar line, standing in it for what seems like forever and being sure that the bartenders make my drinks doubles. The music throbs as I wait.

  I’m annoyed by the loud, persistent booming. I want to move on from this bar, to continue down the strip, to go back to laughing and talking like we were doing before.

  And that’s when I see my fiancée and another guy.

  Without question, I know it’s Pippa. She is wearing a simple black dress, fitted and full length with thick straps. She pushes a strand of her curly red hair back as she stands by the wall, talking to a man in a tux. Her expression is unreadable, but I can tell by her body language that the man is hitting on her.

  I can tell she doesn’t like it.

  As I start to push my way through the crowd towards her, I see the man grab her arm, lean in, and try to kiss her. She makes a face and turns her head slightly, avoiding direct contact between their mouths.

  That’s when I start seeing red.

  Fuck anyone who touches her against her will.

  Fuck any guy that touches her and isn’t me.

  As I start plowing my way through the crowd, I see her protest as the guy tries to pull her closer.

  “Stop!” she yelps. “Seriously, you don't even know me—”

  “If you would just—”

  That’s all the guy manages to say before I get close enough to yank him off of her. Pippa’s eyes widen when she sees me and takes in my expression.

  “Lars, don’t—”

  “Foutre le camp!” the guy says. It’s clear to me that he’s very drunk, but that doesn’t excuse his behavior.

  I punch him right in the nose, knocking him down to the floor. The crowd instantly parts, He makes a startled sound and holds his face; bright red blood starts to bloom on his face.

  “Lars!” Pippa says, looking tense. She rushes to my side, tugging at my arm.

  I glance at her, then back to the guy on the floor, who is just now getting surly.

  “Who the fuck are you?” he yells.

  I step closer, ignoring Pippa’s hand on my arm. “You don't fucking touch her,” I tell him. “You don't touch anybody unless they ask you to, you fucking asshole.”

  “I didn’t do anything!” he cries, holding his nose.

  “Bullshit,” I tell him. “I saw it all. And if you think that I’m the only one who would’ve stepped in, you’re wrong. You can’t just step all over a girl nowadays and expect that no one will stop you.”

  Pippa makes a frustrated noise. “Seriously, Lars—”

  “Okay! Okay.” I take a step back, gripping Pippa’s waist. My gaze meets hers. “I’ll go if you go with me.”

  “Yes,” she says, tugging me toward the door of the club. “I’m going with you.”

  I let her pull me away with one last glare at the man, who is just now getting to his feet. Then he’s gone, obscured by the dancers and people talking that stand in between me and the wall. Turning toward the doorway, I step in front of her to make a path.

  Soon we are out of the bar. I don't stop there on the landing, though. I grab Pippa by the waist and halfway carry her down the stairs, not stopping until we hit the front door. There are a few people who drunkenly watch as I carry my fiancée a little ways, finally putting her down in front of a white sandstone building. I grab her and pin her against the wall, my eyes fiery.

  “Fuck that guy,” I grit out.

  She looks up at me, her eyes slitted
. “I think you showed him who’s in charge,” she says.

  I roughly kiss her, forcing my lips down on hers. She sinks against me. Burying her hands in my hair, she opens her mouth to me, letting my tongue slide against hers. When she finally breaks away, pulling back, I can see the desire written in her blue eyes.

  “Take me home,” she asks quietly. “Show me just what went through your mind when you saw him try to kiss me.”

  I pull away from the wall, grabbing her hand, and rush toward our rented home.

  28

  Lars

  In the late morning, I look at Pippa gathering her things.

  “Are you thinking of heading up to the beach?” I ask.

  “Err… yes.” She colors, lifting the tote bag that is on her shoulder. “I brought a book and a towel.”

  “And sunblock, I hope,” I tease her. “I’ll come with you.”

  I feel her gaze slide down my chest. She bites her lip, turns even redder, and then nods. “Okay.”

  She turns and starts walking away, leaving me to grab my water and catch up. As we walk, I keep an eye trained on her.

  Pippa has never said anything even remotely romantic to me. I mean, we’ve shared our bodies with each other. That’s for sure. But nothing about her feelings.

  Certainly nothing about wanting to make our relationship real.

  Still, gazes like the one she’s giving me now speak volumes in their own way.

  She thinks I’m hot. She thinks I’m funny. She thinks I’m worth knowing.

  I just have to find the right moment to pop the question, as it were.

  Will you make our fake relationship real, little witch?

  I sigh. She casts an eye over me, squeezing my biceps. “Did you run too hard this morning or something? I saw you get up to work out.”

  I smirk at her. “I like running. It’s just me time. Besides, I have to keep it tight for you.” I say the last with a wink.

  She shakes her head. “You know, you’re lucky you’re hot.”

  I grin. She’s not wrong. I am hot. I work my body hard to maintain it.

  “So, um…” She ducks her head as we walk, tucking her hair behind her ears. “I’ve been thinking about what I want you to fund. You know, after we… break up.”

  My heart speeds up. “Ja?”

  “Mmhm. I’ve narrowed it down to three ideas. Tell me what you think.” She ticks off the numbers on her fingers as she goes. “One, I think maybe some kind of newspaper for women my age. Good reporting, a mixture of fun stuff and serious stuff.”

  I nod. “That sounds good.”

  “I also was thinking about taking a year off, writing a book, and launching myself as a brand.”

  I cock my head, thoughtful. “What would you write?”

  She blushes. “I guess I would have to figure it out.”

  “What’s the third thing?”

  “Some sort of publishing house for punk rock and feminist writers. I haven’t really defined that idea very well.”

  Blowing out a long stream of breath, I nod slowly. “Cool. I mean… what if I just gave you the money now? We would still carry on the fake engagement and everything. It’s not like you’re about to ghost me.”

  Pippa looks at me, surprised. “If that would make you happy, I guess.” She frowns. “You’re still happy with our arrangement, right?”

  I shrug. “I guess. We do have the four month mark coming up, creeping closer and closer. I feel like we’ll have to decide what we want to do then.”

  Her lips quirk. “What do you mean?”

  The back of my neck heats. I clear my throat. “I mean, do we keep fucking? Do we… stay engaged for longer? Do we stop everything all at once?”

  Her eyes widen. She looks out at the beach, biting her lower lip. All I get from her is a grudging, “I have no idea,” mumbled quickly out of the side of her mouth.

  Before us, the road gives way to the sloping beach. It’s rocky after we cross the road. The ocean glides gently up toward us and then back again, leaving a sandy beach in its wake.

  Pippa picks a spot, laying her tote bag down. “God. It’s beautiful out here.” She shivers. “It’s unexpectedly chilly. I guess there isn’t anything to keep the wind off of us.”

  I toss my shirt down next to her bag. “It’s nearly brisk. I like it. But I don't think that I want to get in the water, though. It’s not the right time of year for that, I’m afraid.”

  A smile tugs at her mouth. “I suppose not. Maybe I’ll just sit here and read.”

  She purses her lips and sits down in the pebble-strewn sand, well away from the water. Normally I would just look at the sea for a minute and then head back to the shelter of the house. But since Pippa seems intent on staying, I sit down next to her.

  She is pretty quiet, dragging her book out. It’s big and thick, not beach reading at all. My knee accidentally brushes hers as I settle in, and my touch leaves traces of crimson in her cheeks. Then she apologizes, as if she had done something bad.

  “Oops, sorry!” she says, scooting herself another inch away from me.

  As if we didn’t start this morning with amazing, steamy shower sex. As if I didn’t cup her tits, pull her hair, and fucking come inside her gorgeous body mere hours ago.

  My first instinct is to drag her a little closer, put my calloused palms against her smooth skin. Just to see how she would react.

  I blow out a breath. “I hate to be one of those people, but what are you reading?”

  She wrinkles her nose, showing me the cover. The cover is hot pink and designed to look very 1990s. “It’s a look back at how music and feminism shaped millenials.”

  I look at the sand in front of me, reach out two fingers to trace a figure eight. “I think it’s been a while since I’ve read anything more complicated than a Wired article.”

  “Oh,” she says carefully, gripping her book to her chest with both hands. “I think my brain needs to be fed a steady diet of new and thought provoking material.” She wrinkles her nose. “All I ever did as a kid was read.” Her cheeks stain again. “Actually, my childhood wasn’t that different from my life right now in that regard. I’m still a giant nerd.” She crinkles her face up and huffs out a laugh.

  I smile a little. I’ve known her since she was thirteen. And for the most part, she’s right. When I picture her, her nose is always stuck in a book. “I wished I was a nerd sometimes. I wished I was basically anything but a prince.” My mouth flattens. “I think that sometimes the royal family is sort of trapped. They are set in their ways, always performing the same ceremonies, fragile beings kept under glass.”

  She straightens her spine and frowns. “I can see why you feel that way.” Her mouth twists. “Do you ever dream of escaping this life? Just starting over somewhere that no one will know you?”

  I push myself onto my back, laying out against the sand. “Ja. Of course. When I was little, I would spend hours studying maps, trying to chart a course for a great ship to take me away. ”

  Pippa pushes her hair behind her ears, her expression a little sad. She reaches out and touches my arm ever so gently, causing goosebumps to raise all over my body. “I’m glad you didn’t sail away. Is that selfish? I’m so glad I met you, especially when I did.”

  Her words are so earnest, making the back of my neck heat. It’s a little weird that she has such complete faith in me when I’ve never really done anything to earn it.

  “Well, me too. I guess I could wish that so many things had turned out differently. But if they did, I might not be here right now,” I say, tilting my head. “And I would hate to miss out on this.”

  Pippa leans over and kisses my lips, a small smile on her face. I feel myself growing sentimental, so I change course. “We should be talking about something more interesting. Like…” I grasp for straws, eager to talk about easier things. What am I good at?

  Sex. How do I work that into the conversation?

  “Okay…” I say. “Ah! Who was your first crush?�
�

  Her cheeks color. “I don't know…” she hedges.

  I’m enjoying her embarrassment too much. “Mine was Star Wright. I don’t think you knew her, but when I was a kid, she was a super popular singer. Tall, sexy, and she always wore these bright colors. Oh, and she had really great hair.” I wrinkle my nose at Pippa. “I guess you two have that in common.”

  Pippa looks at the ground. “I had a crush on all of the Beastie Boys,” she mumbles. “I liked how they all dressed. They had a lot of style.”

  “Oh man,” I say, cracking up. “You liked how they dressed. Of course that’s your answer.” I laugh about that for second, my eye on Pippa. “All right. How about a tougher one?”

  She gives me a look that says she couldn’t imagine anything she would rather be talking about less. I grin, my shoulders feeling looser.

  “How about… are you a boobs girl or a butt girl? Or… what’s the female equivalent? Hot arms or strong back muscles?”

  She scrunches up her face. “I would rather crawl under a rock than answer that.”

  I bump her with my shoulder. “Relax. I’m not going to tell anybody. Me, I’m a butt guy, all the way. Boobs are great, but I like an ass. Gives you something to hold onto when you’re fucking.”

  Pippa pinches her eyes closed. “I hate you.”

  “Just tell me. Which do you fantasize about? Arms or back? Oooh, or abs maybe?”

  She grabs her book, holding it in front of her face. “I like the adonis belt, I guess…”

  That gives me pause. “The fuck lines, eh? That’s pretty raunchy, little witch.”

  She moves her book to the side and shoots me a glare. “You are seriously the worst. The. Worst.”

  My grin widens. “What’s the hottest sex you’ve had? Hmm?”

  She goes bright red in an instant, glancing away. She drops the book, but she won’t look anywhere near me. “Ummm…”

  I grin. Reaching out to touch her bare knee, I rib her a little. “Come on, you can tell me.”

  She looks back at me, her blue eyes full of mortification. “You’re going to make fun of me.”