Pretend Princess With Benefits: A Royal Fake Marriage Romance

by Lara Swann

  “The court?” I don’t quite know what to ask, so I go with that - until my mind catches up. “Wait - tonight?!”

  He grimaces. “Yeah, tonight. It never normally happens this quickly, honestly, but—”

  “How many other things ‘never normally happen this quickly’?” I glare at him. I can’t help it. I had such beautifully laid plans with my sweet, soft bed for tonight.

  Plans I desperately want to keep.

  He winces at that. “Yeah, I know. The welcome presentation was so early because of the Court Dinner tonight, but after that you can relax, really—”

  “Derek.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, just under my glasses, and try to breathe normally. “I don’t think I can do a dinner tonight.”

  I really don’t think I’m up for it. I’m not a fancy dinner kind of girl at the best of times, and—

  “I know, Hanna - I do. But we don’t have a choice. This is the official presentation of the Princesca-attenciano to the whole court. It’s how we announce my proposal of you as my bride - and once that happens you’ll have all the status of an Aldoran Princesca until a final decision is made. After that, everyone’s committed to seeing it through. That’s all I need.”

  “You’re really not making this sound any better.” I mutter, my nerves rising with everything he says.

  Official presentation. Court. Princess.

  No thank you. Nope. Sorry. Hanna isn’t in today.

  “C’mon Hanna…”

  Derek takes a deep breath, and comes to sit next to me. He’s suddenly so close, and I remember how good his body felt against me for the whole of that train journey - the one thing about it that I actually didn’t mind. Then he takes my hand and kisses the back of it, looking up at me a half-hopeful quirk to his mouth that really shouldn’t be as sexy and charming as it is.

  “I know this isn’t quite what I said it would be - or wanted it to be. Not yet. But I’m going to make sure you get your vacation one way or another, Hanna, and after this the state functions will be minimal. You can spend the whole of the next week lying on the beach if you want to - no one will bother you for a while. I didn’t think I’d be asking so much of you, but…” He trails off, shaking his head, and it’s one of the few times I’ve heard him be serious about what he’s asking me to do.

  I seem to be seeing more and more of that here in Aldora, but even so…it’s rare for him.

  I shake my head myself, not wanting to seem obstinate. It’s just…

  “It’s not that I don’t want to do it. Well, okay, I don’t - but that’s not why I’m hesitating, Derek. It’s that I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I didn’t expect to fit into the Princess role or anything - but this is more than that. I don’t know your culture, I don’t know what this court dinner means - or fuck, even who the court are. And I don’t think it’s going to work - going into this tired and confused and likely to offend everyone around me without even realizing it.”

  His expression turns sober for a moment, and I can tell he’s thinking about what I’m saying. Which only confirms that I have a point.

  But then he shrugs and shakes his head.

  “You’ll be okay, Hanna. It’ll be good enough - and it doesn’t have to be perfect.” He meets my skeptical look with a small smile. “You’re not here for them, remember? You’re here for your trip around Europe - who cares what they think? It’ll be good enough to make you an official Princesca-attenciano and that’s all our bet was for. That’ll be good enough to prove to my parents that I’m trying - it’s not like they’ve ever expected me to make a good decision anyway. I’ll deal with the rest of the fallout, while you just enjoy your vacation and go along to the couple of events it’ll take until the court rejects my choice.”

  I frown a little.

  He’s right. That’s what we agreed - and I definitely never promised to be good at this.

  But somehow it feels strange to act like I don’t care at all. To turn up in a new country, supposedly petitioning to join their royal family…and not give a damn about what they think of me.

  From what Derek’s saying, though, they’re not going to approve of me anyway, so…

  It does make it easier, thinking like that.

  I could go to this dinner and just accept that I’m going to be tired and out of place for it.

  Just do it.

  The Nike slogan that I’d re-purposed so many times when studying for exams or writing papers pops into my mind again. Derek’s casual comment about all-nighters might have been a little wild…but I can’t deny I’ve had one or two.

  It’s not like this is my first time doing difficult shit on very little sleep. I can deal with it. Even with scary-official-judgy people in a foreign country that I don’t understand anything about.

  And, as I look at him again, I feel like I probably should deal with it.

  It’s what I came here for - what I agreed to. I can’t just avoid it because I’m tired.

  And more than that…since we got here, Derek has been different. From everything he’s said - and even more, not said - about Aldora, I think this is hard for him.

  Which shouldn’t really make a difference, but somehow…it does. Even apart from the bet, he’s looking at me like he really needs the support right now, and strangely - I feel like I want to help.

  If this is what he really needs - what he brought me all this way for - well, okay then. I’ll do it. For him.

  It takes me a long moment, but eventually I squeeze his hand. And nod.

  “Okay.” I nod, giving him a serious look. “Okay, I’ll do it - or I’ll try at least, and we’ll just have hope I don’t fuck it all up.”

  His expression practically melts with relief, and that’s all I need to see to know that I’m doing the right thing after all. He pulls me into an embrace immediately, kissing my temple as his arms wrap around my shoulders.

  I laugh giddily for a moment, the exuberant gesture followed by his strong body surrounding me, and the sweet-hot brush of his lips sending warmth throughout me…until I remember with a shock of embarrassment that I’m almost naked under here. And I’m pretty sure the top part of my dressing gown has billowed open with the sudden movement and—

  “What?” Derek pulls back with a quizzical look, both hands on my shoulders.

  Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down.

  “Nothing.” I say, holding his gaze with an intense desperation as I try to subtly bring my hands up and smooth the front of the dressing gown back into place before he notices me almost flashing him.

  “Don’t tell me a little kiss on the forehead is too much for your innocent soul?” He grins at me, then his eyes flick down, distracted by my hands.

  I slam the dressing gown back together and hug my arms around myself as his eyes widen.

  “Was that—”

  “No.” I say immediately. “Absolutely not.”

  I’m pretty sure he didn’t see anything. Or not more than a tiny glimpse, anyway. Probably not much more than a revealing top would show. It’s fine. Totally fine, Hanna.

  “Are you…” His voice catches as looks me up and down. “Fuck, don’t tell me that’s all you’re wearing.”

  The predatory heat in his eyes sharpens immediately, and I can almost feel the groan he bites back - we’re that close.

  I give him an impudent smile. “I have no intention of telling you any such thing.”

  I stand before he can respond, deliberately putting some distance between us as my heart rate beats at double its usual speed in my chest.

  I’m still not sure what Derek and I are doing when it comes to that. There have been hints…more than hints…thoughts, and looks, and touches…but I so haven’t had enough time to work out what I think about it.

  And this really isn’t the time.

  He groans as he looks over at me, and I can see him shift on the couch. I have a good idea why he’s shifting, and although it’s very flattering, I adamantly refuse to look in
that direction. As tempting as it is.

  “Hanna…” He says, his voice rough and infinitely thrilling.

  “So.” I say firmly, trying my best to ignore that. “Are you going to tell me about this Court Dinner?”

  He looks at me like he can’t understand what I’m saying. Blinks a couple of times.

  “While you’re…” His voice sounds almost strangled. “Don’t you want to…fuck, Hanna!”

  I force myself not to react with a will that I didn’t know I possessed. He has no idea how fucking hot he is, looking at me like that. With eyes that could devour me and a voice that promises so much more. I know more about his reputation than I probably should…and the more time I spend around him, the more I want to know it first-hand.

  “Unless you don’t want to do this whole Court Dinner thing after all?” I ask, innocently enough, raising an eyebrow.

  “Fuck.”

  He gets to his feet, runs his hands through his jet-black curls and turns away from me. Takes a couple of deep breaths and obviously makes an effort to collect himself before turning back again.

  Definitely flattering.

  Who would’ve known I could make a guy like Derek react like that?

  I mean, it might just be the presence of almost-naked girl, but still…I’ll take it. If only I wasn’t having exactly the same problem that he was - my blood racing, my eyes dilating and my body almost throbbing with anticipation.

  Anticipation for something that can’t happen - not right now. More’s the pity.

  “Okay.” He says with a small, almost disbelieving laugh and a shake of his head. “We’ll do it your way. As I promised, Princesca - no seduction until you say you want it.”

  I feel my pussy clench at the way he says that.

  I try very hard not to think ‘I want it’.

  He steps closer to me before I feel entirely stable again, but this time when he reaches for my hand and squeezes it, his gaze doesn’t have the same intensity. He’s giving me a grateful smile and seems to have shifted back to ‘friendly’.

  Damn it.

  “I really do appreciate it, Hanna. That you’re doing this. Thank you.”

  He sounds so sincere that I manage to push aside my uncharitable resentment that he’s doing exactly what I wanted.

  I smile and squeeze his hand back.

  “So…what happens now?” I ask.

  I have no idea what the time is, how long I have to get ready, what I need to do…and right now, it’s really fucking hard to think about those things.

  “I’ll leave you to get changed, and then come back before the dinner to try to tell you everything you need to know.”

  “Right.” I nod.

  The lingering desire gives way to a buzz of nervous anticipation in my stomach.

  That seems to have been the entire pattern behind this trip so far. Nerves and anxiety, punctuated with those brief moments of nearly all-encompassing lust where I remember that the guy I’m doing this with - the guy I’m sort-of engaged to - is charming as hell, with an impossible-to-resist body and the sexiest smile I’ve ever seen.

  “Oh.” He says, and reaches into his pocket. “You’ll need this too - I’ll leave it with you. In case, you know…you want to coordinate your outfit or something.”

  I frown, then my heart sinks as he brings out a vaguely familiar velvet box. I was hoping he’d forgotten about that - that we could both just forget about that.

  I take it and open it up and…yep. There it is. The ring he proposed with.

  I’d also been hoping that it might be a joke.

  I look at it, then back to him.

  “Umm…” I start. “Do you think…it’s…well, entirely necessary to wear this?”

  I don’t want to offend him, in case the ring has some special meaning to him, but…well, it is hideous. And entirely impractical.

  He raises an eyebrow at me, totally deadpan. “You don’t like my Granna’s engagement ring? It’s been passed down through our family for hundreds of years.”

  That’s what I was afraid of.

  “Oh, well…it’s just…” I look at it again.

  The clusters of emerald-sapphire-diamonds. The elaborate design that tries to send gold flourishes halfway up my finger. The crazy weight it will have.

  The years of family history and sentiment.

  “I’m sure it will be…lovely.” I look back at Derek and force a smile. “It’s probably just…an older style than I’m used to.”

  He holds his blank expression for a moment more, and then bursts out laughing.

  “It’s ugly as sin.” He admits. “And Granna hated it. The working theory is that my great-great-great-something-great-grandfather had too much money and absolutely no taste. Bigger is better and all that.”

  “Ohh.” I say with relief. “Damn it, you bastard.”

  He grins at me, not at all apologetic for making me feel like I was insulting a special family treasure.

  “Well, in that case—”

  “Oh no, sorry Princesca, you still have to wear it.” He adds, with no remorse.

  “What?” My expression falls immediately.

  “Only for these official ceremonies - but since it is your engagement ring and the symbol of your status as my Princesca-attenciano…it’s non-negotiable.” He sees my face, and claps me on the shoulder with an entirely unsympathetic grin. “At least those emeralds bring out your eyes.”

  “It’s got sapphires and emeralds - seems like it’s trying to cover all bases.” I mutter.

  “That’s the one selling point the men in my family have relied on for generations, apparently. We try very hard not to propose to anyone with brown eyes.”

  I shake my head, but my mouth turns up in a smile anyway. It seems I don’t have much control of that around him.

  “Alright, alright.” I say. “Let’s hope the damn thing doesn’t fall off somewhere - then your parents really will end up kicking me out.”

  “I’ll let you get dressed.” He says, and that seems to make both of us immediately conscious of how undressed I am at the moment.

  I cough a little and take a step back, nodding.

  He makes it almost to the door before he turns around with another lazy grin.

  “Oh, and if it makes a difference for your wardrobe choice…my parents might prefer if you turn up in something other than yoga pants.” His eyes sparkle at me. “I mean, personally I don’t see why, but I thought you might appreciate the pointer.”

  “I knew they disapproved.” I groan. “What did they say?”

  I mean, who wouldn’t? Apart from maybe a certain Prince who kinda wants to stare at my ass.

  “Nothing much - my mother was just a little concerned at your sense of style.” He grins again. “Don’t worry, I smoothed the whole thing over.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  He gives me a winning smile, but I’m not sure. I feel like there’s a little more that he’s not telling me here - but I want to believe him, and it’s not going to do anything for my confidence before this dinner party to hear otherwise, so I let it go.

  If he thinks it’s fine, then it’s fine.

  I tell myself for what feels like the millionth time.

  “Okay, message received.” I say instead. “No hoodies and yoga pants to your posh royal dinner.”

  He gives me a little salute, and then turns with a flourish to leave me to get ready.

  It’s ridiculous, and over-the-top, and I can’t help smiling as I watch him go.

  * * *

  A couple hours later, I’m finally ready.

  Dress, hair, makeup - the whole works. In record time considering that I’m trying to wake myself up as I go.

  And as I stand admiring myself in the mirror, I have to say, I’ve done a pretty good job.

  My rich auburn hair curls down over my bare shoulders, teasing the edges of the shimmering dark green dress I’m wearing. It’s strapless, and I can’t help but remember the c
omments Derek has made about how modest Aldoran society is - but I figure it will pass. It’s high enough that it covers my breasts without any cleavage showing, and it follows my body smoothly all the way down to my knee, where there’s just a slight split to the side.

  It’s elegant and stylish, and my very favorite dress. And the only reason I don’t object more strenuously when my grandparents want to take me out to fancy dinners. Which is pretty much the only place I get to wear it - college house parties…don’t quite make the cut.

  Strappy black heels and an earring-and-necklace set of not-quite-diamonds complete the look. It’s the fanciest jewelery I own, anyway, and I’m not quite sure that the replacement stone is, but it’s clear and sparkles and that’s good enough for me. Combined with the dark makeup I’ve used to bring out my eyes - I think they call that effect smoky - and the sheen of lipstick I’ve run over my mouth, it’s exactly the effect I want. The only thing that doesn’t quite go is the ridiculous ring on my finger. It’s a little over-sized, too, and I keep rubbing at with my thumb - partly because I’m afraid if I don’t, it won’t stay in place. But mostly, I can ignore that.

  Even my glasses don’t seem to interfere with the look, and despite the crazy circumstances, despite how bone-tired I could easily be if I thought about it…I can’t help the little buzz of excitement at getting all dressed up.

  Maybe you should do this a little more often.

  Not that I ever really have an occasion. Not-exactly-rich college student and all.

  Well, I smirk at myself in the mirror, might as well make the most of the whole Princess thing while I’m here. I make a note to tell Carly that resolution, too. She’d be impressed with me.

  Not bad, Hanna. Not bad.

  When Derek arrives a few minutes later and I turn from the mirror to greet him, I can tell instantly that I’ve achieved exactly what I wanted to.

  He stops stock-still as he stares are me, his mouth becoming an ‘O’.

  “Wow.”

  I want to grin, but instead I let myself smile slowly, looking him up and down myself.