Pretend Princess With Benefits: A Royal Fake Marriage Romance

by Lara Swann

  I just…don’t know what to do with that. She either wants to call this whole thing off or…she wants more between us. Which is impossible. Completely impossible.

  But I don’t want to hear it - either option. I don’t want whatever we’ve got to be over just like that, even if we’re not exactly seeing each other right now. So I told her I need some space and time.

  But I don’t know what to do with that either.

  Except think.

  All those questions she never stopped asking…who am I, what do I want, what am I doing…

  The things I thought I knew the answer to.

  You’re an Irish mob hitman. A cold blooded killer. A thug for hire. Her father’s errand boy. That’s what you were born for - and you’re fucking good at it. Get it through your head.

  I’ve never questioned any of it before. But now I have a million what ifs running through my head.

  What if that isn’t who I am? What if I did something else? What would I do?

  And…would I be able to be with her?

  No matter how I try to kill it off, that thought keeps coming back. It gnaws at me, keeps me up at night, and has me cursing and throwing punches in the small space of my dorm room.

  It takes several days to realize it’s not going to go away.

  Even if it’s impossible. Stupid beyond belief. Deadly and dangerous.

  The damn thought is still there.

  What if, what if, what if…

  And for the first time, I’m seriously considering telling her. Everything. All the answers to those endless questions.

  Enough to get me killed. Enough to make her hate me. Enough to wreck everything between us for good.

  But at least she’d know. I wouldn’t feel the weight of my lies every time I saw her, hanging over me every moment. And maybe after that completely destroys her interest in anything more…I’ll stop feeling these damned things.

  It’ll just make it near impossible to protect her - that’s what’s holding me back.

  Not the thought of seeing the disgust and betrayal in her eyes. Not that at all.

  I sigh as I climb out of bed - alone, again - and consider watching her from a distance for another long day. It’s worse than it was at the beginning when I was horny and bored. Hell, it’s not even horniness anymore. Or at least, not much.

  The phone rings as I’m in the shower and I frown, realizing for the first time that I haven’t heard from Sullivan for the last couple of days.

  How did you not notice that? What the hell is wrong with you?

  “Boss.” I answer as I step out, dripping wet, and grab a towel.

  “Caleb.” Sullivan’s voice is a little hoarse. “Is Alana okay? Is she with you?”

  I glance around the tiny en suite, prompted to look for her despite the obvious.

  “No, why?” I ask, “She’ll be sleeping - it’s 6am.”

  He can’t expect me to be in her room at this time…even if a few days ago I would’ve been.

  “Yes, of course. Can you check for me? Right now.” Sullivan insists, and a chill runs down my spine.

  Oh god. What’s happened. If something happened to her while I was—

  I rush out of the dorm, the towel barely wrapped around my waist and hesitate when I get to her door. I can’t knock now - who the hell knows what she’ll say seeing me like this, after she’s been trying to talk to me for days. And with Sullivan on the phone.

  So instead, I slip a card between the edges of the door and work until the lock clicks open. For the first time, I feel weirdly uneasy doing that. Like I’m intruding.

  Which, of course, I am. But I’ve done it so many times before, and…hell, it’s hardly the worst I’ve done.

  And it’s for her own good.

  So I slide the door open and glance inside, adrenaline rushing through me.

  Only to see her bare form tangled up in the covers, breathing easily. The slight outline of her breasts, her smooth stomach…and suddenly, my pulse is on fire and need surges within me again.

  I haven’t seen her like that for too long. Just a few days, sure, but far too long.

  I swallow.

  “Caleb?” Sullivan repeats, and I shake myself out of it.

  Taking a couple of deep breaths, I shut the door and retreat back to my room.

  “She’s fine. I just saw her. What’s going on, Sullivan?” I ask, my body still tense and alert - whether because of seeing her again or Sullivan’s weird behavior, I’m not sure.

  There’s a long pause on the other end of the line, and the unease sitting in my stomach gets worse.

  “I got another letter today.” Sullivan finally says. “I’ll send it across to you.”

  I wait, and then the familiar ping of the phone announces the message. I bring it up immediately, and then go still.

  It’s another photo of Alana - only this time, with her father next to her in a cafe.

  “Is that—” I start.

  “From a few days ago. Yes. That was where we went to eat.” He says.

  Shit.

  “Have you seen anyone around, Caleb?” He finally asks. “When you were watching us that day, or…at all?”

  I run a hand through my hair, shaking my head even though he can’t see me. “No, sir. Not at all.”

  And that more than anything is concerning - I’m good at this stuff. Maybe I wasn’t cut out to be a bodyguard, but there shouldn’t be someone here watching Alana without me knowing about it.

  Another long pause.

  “I…” I start again, with no idea what I’m trying to say. “I’ll keep a look out.”

  It’s a stupid promise. That’s what I’m supposed to be doing anyway. And we both know it’s obviously not good enough.

  That’s what you get for sending a hitman to do a bodyguard’s job.

  But I don’t say it. Sullivan has enough going on. Plus, I’d rather stay alive.

  “I’m ramping up the search - again. But we’re not getting anything. This is fucking me up, Caleb.” Sullivan finally says, his voice tired, and something twists inside me.

  “I’ll keep her safe.” I say without thinking, then realize how deeply I mean it.

  Whatever I have to do, I’ll protect Alana. Maybe I’ve fucked up all sorts of things with her, but I’ll make sure she ends this alive and safe. Even if it fucking kills me.

  There’s a long sigh at the other end, and I don’t think Sullivan caught whatever inflection I put into that. Probably a good thing.

  “I know, Caleb. I’m…thinking about pulling her in. Just in case. Taking her out of college and keeping her safe until this blows over.” He says.

  Telling her everything.

  He doesn’t say it, but we both know that’s what it would mean. It would be impossible to keep it from her if he goes that far.

  I take a deep breath, nodding again. “Whatever you decide, boss. I’ll wait for the call.”

  “Okay. I’ll let you know.” Sullivan’s voice turns crisp and authoritative again, and I relax a little on hearing it. I hadn’t realized how uneasy I’d felt with him struggling. “Call me if you see anything - anything at all.”

  “Yes, sir.” I say.

  He grunts a final acknowledgment and hangs up, leaving me sitting in my towel on the bed, my own mental state in tatters.

  My eyes gravitate towards my phone again - the image there staring back at me.

  If this assassin has been here, taking photos of Alana with her father…how long before one of us together appears?

  Hell, the bastard probably has them already. Just hasn’t realized how damning it would be to send Sullivan pictures of his daughter’s new lover.

  Which means that he doesn’t know who I am - yet.

  But the idea that it could happen at any moment tugs at me. One innocuous photo and Sullivan would know anyway. Then Alana would find out everything…from him.

  It takes me a moment to work out that’s the only part that bothers me.

  The tho
ught of her finally knowing the truth - of an end to the lies and secrets - feels almost like relief. But having her father reveal who I am and what I’m doing here…I can’t stand that.

  Not anymore. Not after everything. She deserves to hear it from me - even if that means seeing her look me in the eye and tell me how much she despises what I’ve done.

  I sigh and start to pace, even though the room is barely big enough for three strides, letting all these messed up thoughts finally come together.

  I have to tell her.

  It doesn’t matter that the photo might not come, or Sullivan might not bring her in.

  I can’t just disappear without a word anymore. I don’t know why, but I can’t do it - I’m not even sure I can go back to the mob.

  Though after she finds out what her father’s involved in and confronts him…I won’t have a place there anyway.

  I’ll probably be face-down in a ditch somewhere, and her infuriating questions about who I am will be completely irrelevant.

  I take one last look at the phone in my hand, think about the man on the other end of it - the things he’s given me, the opportunities I’ve had. Whatever semblance of loyalty I should owe him. What it might do to him to have his daughter find out his real life.

  Then I think of Alana, laughing and messing around with me, pulling me by the hand to some college show, jumping and wrapping her legs around me while she kisses me passionately. Innocent and happy and fun.

  And there’s no contest. I’ll deal with whatever shit her father throws at me - or fail and end up dead - but I won’t lie to her anymore.

  * * *

  Even with that resolution, it still takes me most of the day to work myself up to it.

  Not to mention, I’m distracted by thoughts of a concealed hitman watching and planning - constantly scanning for any sign of the man who could be right here, taking his cursed photographs.

  When I finally commit to it, I wait until Alana packs up from the library, and leave my own unobtrusive position to approach her as she heads for the doors.

  “Alana.” I call, stepping up to her quickly. “Can we talk?”

  She turns to meet me, but when she glances up, her face is a mask. “Yes?”

  “No, I mean - properly. Can we go somewhere?” I ask, glancing around. The idea of someone watching us has me completely on edge.

  “I’m meeting Mel, Lily and Tom for a show on campus. Some circus thing by one of the societies here.” She says, her voice disturbingly neutral.

  I guess I deserve it - I have been avoiding her. But fuck it, the idea I’ve screwed this up already…

  “It’s important, Alana. Will you come with me?” I ask again, trying to stay focused on her and not whoever might be overhearing us right now. We’re still in the middle of the library entranceway and there are too many people passing.

  She hesitates, something in her expression finally shifting, and I can’t help it - I’m suddenly there, my hand threaded through her hair and bringing her into my body again. I feel her resist for a brief moment, and then she relaxes - just a little.

  “I’m sorry I’ve been distant, baby. I just needed to think about things - but…I want to talk now. About everything.” I kiss the top of her head, and something in me breaks at the idea that it’s probably the last time I’ll be doing that.

  When she finds out…

  But she deserves the truth. That’s good enough. It will have to be.

  She sighs against me and leans into me again, eventually nodding. “Okay, Caleb. We can go somewhere.”

  I caress her cheek, and run my hand down to stroke her neck before finally breaking the embrace and giving her a small smile.

  We head out of the library and I don’t say anything as I look for somewhere private to talk. I can feel her shooting curious looks at me, and my nerves are riding higher with every moment that passes, testing my resolve.

  This might be the fucking hardest thing I’ve ever done.

  “Where are we going?” She finally asks, after I’ve walked us halfway around campus, rejecting every little nook I’ve seen so far.

  “I just want somewhere…private.” I say.

  “Caleb, we’ve passed a dozen private spaces. What are you looking for?” She stops, forcing me to stop with her.

  And I realize she’s right - nothing I’ve seen could possibly contain the reaction I expect from her. But then nothing could.

  There is no fucking ‘right place’ to tell someone their father runs the mob, their life is in danger, and they’ve been fucking a complete stranger.

  Fuck.

  “I don’t know.” I belatedly reply, realizing she’s waiting for an answer. “You’re right.”

  Taking a breath, I walk towards the nearest bench and sit down. If I don’t do this now, it might never happen.

  She gives me an unsure look, but if anything I think my strange attitude is only making it obvious that what I have to tell her is important, and she comes to sit beside me without much more hesitation.

  There’s a long moment of silence as I try to work out how to say this. I’ve never been good with words.

  “Are you okay, Caleb?” She seems genuinely concerned as she looks up at me, and that only makes it worse.

  Why the hell do I feel so guilty? I’ve lied and worse all my life, and now…? What the hell has this girl done to me?

  I give her a small smile and shake my head. “No. I’m not.”

  I take her hand, feeling it’s smaller warmth in my own as I take another quick breath. “I’m sorry - about everything. I hope you’ll believe that. But I couldn’t…keep it from you anymore.”

  Alana’s eyes cloud over as I speak, and I can almost feel the wariness growing - along with the genuine care that she’s given for the last month.

  “You don’t…” She bites her lip as she looks up at me. “You don’t have to say anything you don’t want to, you know. I mean, I want to know, but…that wasn’t…we don’t have to—”

  I put a finger to her lips. If she keeps talking like that, I might take the fucking out.

  “No, baby. I need to tell you. I’m just…sorry.” I say, everything within me contracting to focus on her. To hold her eyes and do this. “About everything.”

  She tilts her head at me but doesn’t say anything, and for some fucked up reason her eyes seem brighter - more open, more trusting, where they were uneasy before. And I have no idea why the fuck that is. But it’s enough for me to start.

  “I’m not…who you think I am. I—”

  A loud crack splits through the evening air and I tense, startled, my gaze darting around as I shift instinctively closer to Alana. It comes again—

  Crack.

  A gunshot. It sounds like a fucking gunshot.

  “Shit.” I jump up.

  “Caleb!” Alana grabs my arm and tugs. “Calm down. It’ll just be the circus group starting - they’re using the field over there.”

  She nods towards an area obscured by a couple of buildings and I try and take a deep breath, looking down at her, unconvinced.

  “You think?” I ask, straining every sense to try and work it out.

  “Yeah,” She nods, “It’s okay. What were you saying?”

  Everything in me still wants to bolt, and it doesn’t feel right - a couple of shots, then silence. Like my worst nightmares. But I was wrong about…pretty much every other time I’ve freaked out here. And I know part of me just wants to avoid this conversation.

  “Okay,” I sit back down.

  Crack.

  Crack crack crack.

  Then I finally pick up on it - the sound of screaming filtering across the distance. And not the good kind.

  Fuck. No. Not now. Oh, fuuuck no.

  Alana’s phone goes off almost at the same time as mine, and that’s all it takes for me to be up again, pulling Alana to her feet while she’s still looking in the direction of the noise, confusion masking her face.

  “That’s not a fucking circu
s. C’mon, Alana, we need to go. Now!” I pull on her arm, but she digs in her heels and looks up at me, wide-eyed and confused.

  “Caleb - what the fuck?!” She pulls back against me, forcing me around to look at her.

  I curse the timing of it all, but give her a brief moment of consideration.

  “That’s a gunman on campus. We need to get out of here. We need to run, Alana.” I pull again, and she finally starts moving with me - not running, not yet, but at least following my fast walk, her head still spinning around behind her.

  “What do you mean? How do you know? Caleb — Caleb!” She fires off insistently, and I resist the urge to pick her up and slam her over my shoulder.

  This wasn’t meant to go like this. I was meant to spot the guy before he ever made a move - but then, he was meant to be near me, targeting Alana. This doesn’t make any sense.

  Except that she was meant to be over there watching the circus, maybe.

  My phone rings again - and hers - and I slam the cancel button. Sullivan must’ve got a tip off, or heard something, but he can wait. Right now nothing comes before getting Alana out of here.

  “That’s Mel. I should answer. Find out what the hell is going on.” She fumbles for her phone, and I give up on making a mad dash to the car in silence.

  Instead, I finally stop and spin around to look at her, catching her hand before she can find the phone.

  “Don’t. Alana, listen to me, please. That man - we need to get out of here. Right now.” I’m looking straight at her now, meeting those confused, conflicted eyes, and whatever she sees on my face seems to stop her for a moment. “Please just trust me on this. Let’s get out of here, and then we can talk.”

  She bites her lip and I can see all the questions storming in her eyes. Questions I’m going to have to find an answer for at some point. But not now. Please, not now.

  “Just let me get you out of here.” I repeat, stepping forward and bringing her lips to mine.

  Trust me. Just this one last time.

  She hesitates again, glancing back towards the noise, before shuddering and nodding. “Okay. Okay, we’ll get out of here first.”

  Thank fucking god.

  This time I do pick her up, cradling her in my arms and against my chest before breaking into a dead run.