Pretend Princess With Benefits: A Royal Fake Marriage Romance

by Lara Swann

  Fuck me.

  It’s meant to be a curse, but as the thought enters my mind I feel the beginnings of a blush creeping up my neck. Thank god I didn’t say that out loud.

  My eyes dart back to his face, and the cocky grin there tells me he knows what I was looking at - and, hell, maybe what I was thinking, too - and my blush deepens.

  I curse myself for being ridiculous. I don’t act this way around guys. Especially the dangerously attractive ones. They’re always bad news.

  “Ugh, sorry—I was just looking for…” My words stumble over themselves as I fight against my stupid reaction to seeing him standing there in front of me.

  “A room?” He raises one eyebrow, which effortlessly turns devastatingly handsome into sinfully naughty. There’s an amused glint in his eyes and I swear I see him shift a little in the doorway, as if he’s implying…

  “My room.” I say firmly, before quickly adding, “Thirty-nine.”

  His firm lips flicker into an arrogant smile and he gestures further down the hallway. “Well, hon, unless they changed the system mid-hall, that’d be over there…right next to mine.”

  My stomach flutters at whatever he put into that final comment and I force my eyes away from his, moving past with a quick nod and refusing to continue this…whatever this is.

  It’s 11am on my first day back on campus. It’s completely unfair to expect me to deal with such overt sexuality - or my response to it - right now.

  Instead, I juggle the box on my hip as I fish for the key I picked up this morning and push it into the door.

  Just before I open it, I can’t help myself - I glance back in his direction. That fiery-hot gaze is still fixed on me, and my pulse stutters as his lips curl up into a small smirk.

  “Don’t worry, hon. I won’t say a word about whatever I hear happening in there.” He drawls, amusement dancing in his eyes.

  “What?” I start, convinced he didn’t just say that. Then, feeling flustered and outraged simultaneously, I retort without thinking. “Sure - I don’t think anyone’s going to care about my week-long studying marathons.”

  Wait, did I just tell him nothing else happens in here? Well…it doesn’t. But still, no need for him to know the sex-less state of his new neighbor.

  “See? That’s exactly the sort of thing you don’t want getting around.” He shifts, turning towards me with a different kind of light in his eyes. “Though if you want any help—”

  I shove the door open and step in before he can finish that thought, my heart pounding as it slams shut behind me. Yep, definitely didn’t come prepared to be propositioned like that today.

  And what kind of guy thinks it’s okay to talk that way? To someone they’ve just met. Who they’ll be living next to for the rest of the year.

  Ugh…

  I put the box down on my desk and try to control my breathing, reminding myself that I really can’t stand that sort of guy. However hot he might be. Sexy guys always think they can get away with anything - however inappropriate, misguided or just plain stupid it might be. And who wants to be with some full-of-himself, cocky asshole?

  Most of the campus, from what it looks like.

  Yeah, well - not me. He can have his pick of the ridiculous bimbo girls who’ll flatter his ego. Hell, it’s not like he’s actually interested in me anyway. Probably just trying to get a rise out of the flustered, nervous looking girl who came by. Bastard.

  With that resolved, I take a breath and open the door again, hoping that he’ll have disappeared into his room by now.

  Nope. He’s still standing right there. In an empty hallway. There’s literally no reason for him to be stood around like that.

  At least this time, I feel more annoyed at seeing him than overwhelmed.

  “What are you still doing out here?” I glance over as I start to move past, determined not to let him affect me this time.

  You were just surprised last time. Now, you know better.

  Except the roguish smile as he sweeps his hair back from his eyes doesn’t help. “Oh, just waiting.”

  “What for?” I frown, while simultaneously cursing myself for taking the bait.

  “The overprotective parent to come past. Just to give me an idea what I’m up against.” He grins at me as I stare back in disbelief.

  Yeah, typical sexy asshole.

  I manage to refrain from rolling my eyes and start walking past instead. I am so not looking forward to dealing with this all year. Especially with that traitorous part of me still wanting to sneak looks even if he is a jackass.

  He continues as if I’m not trying to leave. “Haven’t seen anyone though. Are you here by yourself?”

  “Yeah.” I glance back, wishing I could bring myself to ignore him. Instead, I get pithy. “Don’t worry, though, I’m more than capable of defending my own honor.”

  I wince internally the moment it comes out. His comments are bad enough - now I’m harking back to the dark ages as well?

  With comments that aren’t even accurate.

  The thought comes as my mind skips back to the two self-defense classes I took once, as I wonder whether I can remember any of them. I think I decided screaming loudly would be a better option. That counts, I’m sure.

  His eyes flick over me again, and I try not to let my body heat as they come back up to my face. “I’d like to see that, hon. But until then…want some help with those boxes?”

  That does get my attention, and I stop to look back, suddenly unsure. Maybe asshole was too hasty. None of the arrogant dicks I know on campus would make an offer like that…even if it might be to get in my pants.

  I hesitate another moment, then the thought of hauling my car-load up here myself - with this guy watching - decides me. “Ah, sure, actually. Thanks.”

  He gives me another smile and gestures me ahead of him, leaving me thoroughly confused as I make my way back down to my car.

  I can feel his eyes on me and my body tingles with an awkward response, ready for…something I’m not going to think about. I don’t even understand what he wants - unless it’s some fucked up ego-boost from screwing his dorm-mate the night she moves in. Either the usual way, or just through mind-fuckery.

  But he doesn’t say anything more as we reach the car, picking up several boxes as if he doesn’t even notice the weight. I look back and forth between him and the car that will very soon be empty if he keeps up that pace, before deciding that he’s not doing it to show off. Feeling more uncertain, I grab my box and we head back up the stairs.

  From the strange intensity that springs up between us as I walk up the stairs, I’m pretty sure he’s staring at my ass. I mean, that’s the reason to let a girl go first, right? And I’m not sure whether to call him out on it or let myself feel flattered. I’m not used to that kind of attention - attractive guys staring at me the way he is…just doesn’t happen.

  At least not since those ugly rumors got around last year…

  I push away the spark of irritation that causes - and any thought about what he may or may not be staring at - and try to break some of the strange tension between us.

  “I’m Alana, by the way.” I shoot him a quick smile in introduction, realizing I don’t even know this guy’s name yet.

  “Caleb.” He nods.

  Okay, not the type to carry much of a conversation.

  “So…what are you majoring in?” I ask over my shoulder, impressed that I’m not breathing heavily yet.

  “Biology.” Caleb replies easily.

  I almost stop on the stairway, and turn to look over at him, cocking my head. “First year?”

  That’s my major, and I don’t recognize him.

  “No, hun. Second.” He shakes his head with a laugh.

  I frown again. “That’s my major too…our class isn’t that big.”

  He comes up behind me and I start walking again before we’re both standing awkwardly.

  “Yeah, I transferred over from Maryland.” His voice has turned conversational
now, and as the sexual heat slips from it, I start to relax a little.

  “Ah, okay. What was it like over there?” Now my breathing is getting heavier, but I don’t want to kill the easy conversation, so instead I ask him open, leading questions. He doesn’t seem to be having any trouble with lugging triple my load up these stairs.

  Of course not, with that body…

  Caleb starts talking about Maryland, giving me mostly generic information, but despite asking a few questions, I’m not paying much attention to what he’s saying anymore. Instead, that deep voice washes over me and my mind drifts as I start to reassess my earlier judgment.

  Maybe he’s not as bad as he seemed at first…maybe he just doesn’t have a clue how to speak to women. Hell, judging by the looks of him, I doubt he’s ever had to do much speaking around them before. Living next to him all year could be okay…it might even be quite nice…

  “Thanks for doing this, Caleb. You really didn’t have to.” I interrupt whatever he’s in the middle of talking about as we start up the stairs on our third trip, then feel suddenly awkward at how little attention I’ve been paying. I just liked hearing him speak.

  I give him a crooked smile over my shoulder, but it looks like he hasn’t noticed. Instead, the heat in those eyes are back as they travel down me, and my body gives a light shiver as I turn back to focus on the stairs ahead of me, slightly less steady.

  “Oh, it’s no problem. I’m sure I can find some way for you to return the favor.” Then he winks at me.

  My face flushes and I almost spin on the spot to confront him. He did just want to get in my pants, the asshole.

  “Like, you know…showing me ‘round campus or something?” Caleb continues as if I’m not about to launch into an attack, and his eyes twinkle at me as I stop short.

  He’s obviously teasing me. The bastard. But the mental insult doesn’t have any sting to it as the heat in my face fades into something more pleasant. I only wish I knew more about flirting - it doesn’t seem fair for him to be having all the fun.

  I narrow my gaze at him and answer non-committally. “Mm, maybe.”

  No way will I promise to spend more time with him without thinking about it very carefully.

  He grins back and I shake my head at him.

  As I turn back to the stairs, my foot catches on the top step and my body goes sprawling forwards, the box spilling out of my hands.

  “Hey!” Caleb catches my arm faster than I can think, stopping me from face-planting into the floor, and I look up at him, a little bemused. “You okay?”

  I look at the way he’s shifted all three boxes onto his other arm and knee to grab me with a little confusion, and he slowly lowers me back to the floor, letting me support myself as I nod. “Yeah, thanks.”

  I glance up at the box spilled across the hallway - and then my face goes beet-red.

  Fuck.

  He looks up a second later, to see my panties sprawled out in front of us. And not pretty, lacy panties either. I’m talking full-sized, comfy lounge-at-home panties. The kind for long days of studying and sitting on my ass.

  My eyes dart helplessly over the mess, face burning. God, there might even be a couple of granny-panties in there. I scramble forward furiously, trying to gather them up as I wonder if it’s possible to die of embarrassment.

  Please don’t say anything, please don’t say anything, please don’t—

  “What’re these?” I glance over from where I’m scooping as much as I can back into the box to see Caleb dangling one from his finger, looking at it with a slight frown.

  What the hell? Does this guy have no boundaries?!

  “Give me that!” I snatch it from him with a glare. “What the hell do you think they are?”

  “Well, I kind of know, but…” He answers as if it had been a real question, looking over the remaining panties on the floor with interest.

  I stuff them back in the box as quickly as I can, still glaring at him. “Don’t fucking tell me you’ve only ever seen thongs and g-strings before?”

  He grins, and I want to strangle him all over again.

  Of course he has. Of course no girl he’s ever been interested in has dared to wear anything else…hell, they probably all love that bunched-up uncomfortable feeling.

  “You could always show me. I wouldn’t mind seeing…how they work…” He’s doing that devouring me with his eyes thing again, but this time I just want to slam the box over his head.

  How the fuck does he think they ‘work’? They work like any fucking panties.

  But I don’t say it. I am not having this conversation.

  Instead, I jump up as quickly as I can and continue walking with what little dignity I can muster.

  He chuckles behind me and I see red, ignoring the fact that he shifts those three boxes back to both arms easily - ignoring that he effortlessly stopped me breaking my head on the floor while still carrying more of my stuff than I thought sensible.

  Alternating between thinking he’s a dick and thinking he’s a nice guy is driving me crazy and I breathe a sigh of relief when we finally carry the last box to my room. I just want to get away from him and forget about what just happened.

  As I turn in my doorway, he gives me another of those scorching smiles.

  “So, want to get to know each other better?” He raises an eyebrow and I have to fight the way my stomach wants to drop at the sight of him - leaning against the wall opposite, crotch perfectly outlined by the way he’s tucked one ankle behind the other, and biceps bulging from the lifting he just did.

  Ignoring that, I scowl at him instead and fold my arms. “You know, getting to know people might go a whole lot better for you if you didn’t speak to them…like that.”

  “Why?” The way he asks that is infuriating and endearing at the same time - as if he’s truly confused by the question.

  “Because some girls don’t like being made into sex objects.” I say.

  He shifts forward, body flowing sinuously and reminding me of a predator as he steps close to me - not quite touching. My breath catches despite myself.

  “Nonsense, Alana. Every girl likes feeling desired like that…” His voice rumbles, and I curse the way the flip in my stomach agrees with him.

  “Not by arrogant jackasses.” I retort before that feeling can catch up with me.

  “Good thing I’m not a jackass then.” He doesn’t deny the arrogant part, giving me that sinful smile instead.

  I feel torn between wanting to hit him and feeling ready to fall into his arms - and from the way his eyes are glittering, he knows it, and is standing there enjoying my impotent frustration.

  Is this how it is for all those stupid girls you mock? Simply driven mindless by hormones and lust and…fuck it.

  “Well, thanks for the help.” I cut us off abruptly, needing to end this. “Maybe if you get over yourself, I’ll show you around campus sometime.”

  I shut the door before I realize I’ve made the offer, and then lean back against the wall of my room, taking a ragged breath and running a hand through my hair.

  I can’t believe I just said that. The last thing I want to do is spend any more time with Caleb. Especially after spilling all my fucking panties in front of him.

  Then I groan and wonder how the hell I’m going to get through the next year with him living next to me.

  Chapter Three

  Caleb

  “No, nothing, boss.” I walk steadily away from the track field, further towards the trees - and privacy - at the end.

  It’s 6am in the morning and there’s no one in sight, but these calls always put me on edge.

  Sullivan grunts in response. “Fuck it. You’ll have to stick there a little longer.”

  My gut tightens as he voices what’s become painfully obvious, and this time I just grunt my acknowledgment.

  There’s silence for a moment and I continue walking at a decent pace, keeping my blood pumping despite the interruption to my morning run.

&nbs
p; “She’s alright, though?”

  “Yes, sir.” I make sure to keep my voice steady.

  She’s infuriating. Intoxicating. Unbelievable. The least fun of anyone I’ve ever known, with the hottest fucking body…and her attitude…

  But yes, she’s fine - and Sullivan doesn’t need to know anything else.

  “And she doesn’t suspect anything?”

  “No, sir.” I recite the same answer I’ve given every day this week. These responses are starting to become automatic.

  He grunts again. “Okay, I’ll let you know if we get an update.”

  Then he clicks off and I try not to sigh in aggravation as I put the phone away. Instead, I start running again, bringing my pace up much quicker than I should.

  Fucking ‘you’ll only be there a week…c’mon, we’re the Irish Mob, no one can hide from us…’.

  It’s already been a week, and I’m going out of my fucking mind.

  I signed up to a few days of parties and hot college girls - not following some uptight girl to lectures and classes and god-help-me the fucking library for weeks. All while thinking about every possible way a hitman with half my skill could kill her - without me being able to do a thing to stop it. Sullivan has really lost his mind over this. It’s such a fucking stupid plan.

  And she’s messing with my head.

  Sure, staring at her all day in lectures was fun at first. Seeing that intent, puckered expression she gets when she’s concentrating…the way she flicks her hair behind her when she gets overly excited about understanding some of the incomprehensible symbols the professors drone on about all day…the sparkling, animated way she chatters on to her friends as if she’s oblivious to anything else…

  But I’m not used to watching from afar - especially when I absolutely can’t make plans to get any closer. No matter how tempting the idea of seducing her and showing her just what that kind of heart-stopping beauty is for seems.