Pretend Princess With Benefits: A Royal Fake Marriage Romance

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Pretend Princess With Benefits: A Royal Fake Marriage Romance Page 41

by Lara Swann


  This isn’t me at all.

  So why do I like it so much?

  I can’t work it out. And I can’t work him out either.

  He’s like nothing I’ve ever known. One moment playful and kid-like, laughing and pulling me along with him in big, attention-grabbing gestures. But now, alone and hidden in the back of the library, he’s got a rougher feel to him - rugged and…inexplicable.

  And I don’t even want to be this fascinated by it.

  “So?” Caleb interrupts my racing thoughts, “Are you going to tell me which one you like?”

  I look at his chest again - why can’t I stop doing that? - and then force my gaze away, glancing back over my shoulder.

  “Your drawings were back there…” I start uncertainly, feeling completely unbalanced.

  I’m still not sure whether I’m really here, actually doing this.

  “That’s okay.” His voice, low and seductive, draws me back to him, and he steps closer. “I can tell you what I was thinking.”

  He starts outlining his idea for an eagle just under his collar bone, wings dipped in a dive and claws outstretched, his hands tracing imaginary lines over his skin. I can’t take my eyes off them. But I’m not imagining the eagle - I’m picturing my fingers following his, my mouth and lips tasting and touching every part of him.

  I have to bite my lip to keep from moaning at the thought - and he’s not even touching me. He’s not doing anything. And this time he isn’t even making stupid comments.

  Until where we are hits me again, and I jerk myself out of those daydreams, the absurdity of it all washing over me.

  “Caleb…we’re in the library.” I say, my voice hushed again.

  “So?” He interrupts his monologue and raises an eyebrow at me, as if my objection isn’t obvious.

  “So this isn’t what it’s meant for.” I think of my books and papers and the half-written seminar answers waiting for me back at my desk.

  I can’t tell whether I’m longing to get back to that, out of the sudden awkwardness I feel - or if it feels far less interesting in comparison.

  “It’s the best use I’ve seen so far.” He grins at me, completely irreverent.

  I shake my head again, bemused, but glad for the interruption to the deep, sensual tone he’d used to talk about his tattoos.

  “You know, you don’t have to be here if you don’t want. There’s hardly much point in coming and pretending to study.” I point out.

  “True.” He smiles again, his hand dropping from the black ink as his eyes flick over my body. “But maybe there are certain advantages to be had here.”

  My skin prickles again, but I can’t help myself. “Like…what?”

  He steps closer. “Well, I was certainly enjoying the view.”

  I think back to his table, directly opposite ours - to the point that I had to actively avoid looking over there half the time. Maybe he hadn’t been doing much avoiding.

  My cheeks heat, and twin spikes of excitement and uncertainty rush through me.

  “So what…you’re stalking me now?” I mean it as a joke, but the moment I say it, I‘m suddenly uneasy.

  I do keep seeing him around - I mean, that’s probably because we’re on the same course and live right next to each other, but…he’s also felt dangerous from the moment I first saw him.

  What if he’s the scarily obsessive type or something?

  But for some reason, as I look up at him, that thought only makes my pulse beat harder.

  Which is ridiculous. I’ve never been the type of girl to get turned on by being alone with some rough, seductive guy.

  “It’s only stalking if you don’t like it, hun.” He shifts closer to me, and I can’t breathe from the intensity of his body so close to mine. His deep voice runs through me, stirring every half-asleep nerve and setting it on fire. “Do you want me to leave you alone?”

  No. I don’t.

  I can’t believe it, but I don’t.

  And he knows it without me saying a thing.

  I take a step closer and look up, my eyes catching on the slight stubble around his firm lips as I imagine the burn of them pressing against me.

  The intensity spikes between us and the shrinking gap between our bodies becomes alive as he leans down towards me.

  Fuck. I want this. To hell with what I should do.

  I lift my head to his and my hand comes up to finally touch that rock-hard chest I’ve been staring at, gliding along his abs as the power of his burning gaze threatens to swallow me whole.

  His lips are hovering right above mine, my whole body tense and waiting for the kind of kiss I’ve been longing for…when my hand falters against an uneven ridge, a flaw in the perfect muscle of his chest. I pause instinctively as I feel the shape of the ragged skin there, then blink as I realize he’s frozen against me.

  After a long, tense moment, his hand moves to cover mine and slowly draw it away from that place under his ribs. His mouth lowers again, but my mind is racing too fast now, distracted by the unexpected discovery.

  “What—?” I get in, before his lips have a chance to close over mine.

  He stops again, his breath hot on my lips, and I’m torn by the conflicting needs of my curiosity and desire. Then he makes the choice for me and steps back, head tilted with a strange light in his eyes as they meet mine.

  With more than a foot between us, my eyes drift downward and I finally see what the shadows, tattoos and defined muscles masked only moments ago. A couple of long, twisted scars marring the perfect golden skin under his ribs, that reach around to his side. The hint of an older, smaller puckered scar just above his kidney, almost as if from a…bullet?!

  “Where did you get…” I ask, wide eyes meeting his again.

  I can’t help the sudden images that come to my mind. Violence. Danger. That’s exactly the air he has around him again now, and as the now-familiar arrogant smile spreads across his face, I can almost see the rest of him close off from me.

  “Oh, you know. Around.” His voice is amused, but he shrugs his shirt back on and slowly starts buttoning it up.

  I guess that means we’re done with the about-to-kiss moment again?

  “Around?” I persist.

  I probably shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself. My curiosity has always gotten the better of me, and it seems insatiable around him - I want to know just who he is.

  “Yeah, typical everyday heroics, those.” He grins at me, but it’s his typical retreat behind sharp-edged humor. “Rescuing cats out of trees, helping elderly ladies across the street…that sort of thing.”

  I scowl at him, “Sure, I’m going to believe something like that. Why don’t you just say if you don’t want to answer?”

  “Why do you ask so many god-damned questions?” He softens it with an exasperated smile, but I feel a little guilty anyway.

  Maybe I’m just not comfortable with how crazy-in-lust I feel about someone I don’t know or understand at all.

  But I don’t say that. Of course I don’t.

  “See you on Saturday, hun.” The last of his chest disappears behind his shirt, and he gives me a casual wave as he turns and leaves.

  What the hell?

  I stand there staring after him for a moment, unable to believe that he just left me here alone after…all of that.

  Then I wonder whether I scared him off entirely. Maybe it wasn’t fair, prying like that.

  But he sets off all my warning bells - crazy heat followed by a lingering suspicion. I’ve never reacted this strongly to anyone.

  And now I’m left with this burning need again. Fuck.

  At least I can probably assume he’s into me now…and he didn’t cancel our maybe-date on Saturday.

  That’s a good thing - isn’t it?

  Chapter Eight

  Caleb

  I knock firmly on Alana’s door with a certainty that says nothing of the tension buzzing inside me.

  I’m only assuming she’s still interested in going wit
h me to this dance show, since we haven’t exchanged a word after I left her abruptly that day in the library.

  I think I was hoping that I might not end up being here today - that something would happen, or change, and I could get the hell out of here and back to Baltimore. But, no. Still watch and wait, we’re working on it, Caleb.

  Because watching Alana for days is a great idea for someone trying to forget about how fucking close her lips had been. How sweet the light scent of her body was. Or the wariness in her eyes after she touched my scars.

  God damn it.

  That was enough to remind me what a fucking bad idea this is and keep me away for a while longer. But now I’m waiting outside her door, and I just know whatever self-restraint I might have had is going to disappear in her company. As it has every fucking time.

  The door opens a moment later and Alana blinks up at me - looking stunning in a short black dress that hugs every beautiful curve, strappy high heels and whatever make-up born miracle has made her eyes double in size.

  Oh yes. Goodbye self-control.

  “Caleb?” She pauses, uncertain.

  “I came to pick you up.” I give her a winning smile as I lean against the doorway, not trying to hide that I’m looking her up and down in the slightest.

  Heat appears in her eyes as she picks up on that, but she makes a show of frowning at me. “You’re planning on driving to the end of the road?”

  “Well, I was just going to offer you my arm,” I start, amused, then look her over as if considering. “But if you’re going to be pedantic about it…”

  I step forward and hook my arms under her knees and back, lifting her until she’s cradled in my arms. She shrieks and starts wriggling, but it’s easy to hold onto her as I grin down into her outraged face.

  “Caleb! Let me go!” She demands.

  “I wanted to pick you up.” I point out, inordinately pleased with myself, as I turn and start walking down the hall, as the weighted door slams shut behind us.

  “Wait! I wasn’t ready - my bag, and—Caleb!” She starts slapping against my chest, but I’m enjoying myself too much.

  “You look perfect, hun. You’re ready.” I say casually.

  She turns red, but I can’t tell whether it’s because of the compliment or the outrage. Probably both. I hope both.

  “Caleb, put me down this instant! I am not going with you to the show like this.” She insists, still squirming around in my arms.

  My cock is already stiff in my pants - she’s too near and moving too much and too god-damn hot like this for any other reaction, but at least while she’s furious at me I’m not thinking of the blue balls I’ve been suffering for god-damn weeks.

  “What?” I ask innocently, “Girls like to be picked up on dates. I’ve done some research, you see. Since you made it clear that I needed to last time.”

  “Argh! That’s. Not. What. That. Means.” She grinds out, as if she doesn’t know that I’m teasing her. “And we weren’t even going together! Who said this was a date?!”

  I just laugh at that, my voice full of genuine humor as I stop walking for a moment. “Oh we weren’t, were we? That wasn’t how you meant this?”

  It’s amuses me endlessly the lies she likes to tell herself, and at the heat in my eyes, she stills for a moment and glances away.

  “Well, maybe.” She admits, “But - not like this! God-damn it, Caleb.”

  She finds her ire again, but at least she’s quit hitting me - just glaring up instead.

  “Would you rather have my arm instead?” I ask sweetly.

  “Oh, fuck you.” She mutters as I finally tilt her upright again, keeping careful hold of her waist. It puts us wonderfully close together, her body pressed against mine - or at least, it does until she pushes away from me again, folding her arms and looking at me like I’ve grown a second head or something.

  “What?” I smile easily.

  She keeps up the pretense of irritation for a couple of moments longer, then it cracks and she laughs and shoves at me. “You’re such a bastard, Caleb.”

  “The best kind.” I agree, grinning at her and finally taking her arm to steer her the rest of the way down the hall.

  “Hey - I really wasn’t ready, my bag…” She starts.

  “I told you. Not important.” I continue walking, and to my great surprise she actually comes with me. Maybe with a glare or two, but she follows my lead.

  That’s a first.

  Maybe it won’t be quite so impossible to keep her safe after all, if something ends up happening—

  No. Not tonight. Don’t think about that tonight. It’s screwed up enough of your time with her.

  Tonight, I just want to have some fun. Even if I’m already convinced a college dance show isn’t going to be my thing.

  But Alana will be there - and that’ll be good enough.

  We meet up with Mel and Lily part-way down the road - or, rather, they meet up with us.

  Mel runs towards Alana from the side of the road before I can stop her, exclaiming loudly, “There you are, girl! I’ve been calling and calling - don’t tell me you’re too absorbed with him to pay the slightest attention to us anymore.”

  “No, I just—don’t have my phone on me.” Alana responds in an aggravated voice, and I laugh to myself.

  “What? Why ever not?” Lily adds, coming up behind Mel at a more sedate pace.

  “Don’t ask.” Alana mutters, shooting a dagger-glance at me. But she doesn’t shrug my arm off.

  I just smile innocently at them while Mel glances between us.

  “Don’t tell me you two have had a lover’s spat already?” Her friend asks directly.

  “Mel!” Alana hisses, going bright red.

  “Don’t worry - I won.” I wink at Mel and continue walking again, letting Alana continue to sputter adorably next to me.

  What is it about this woman that just sets my heart beating? God knows. But if tonight goes at all well, maybe I’ll find out by the end of it.

  I glance down at Alana again and smile to myself at the furious look she gives me back.

  Seems to be off to a good start.

  I’m surprised just how happy and light-hearted I feel as we hand over our tickets and make our way inside the college theater.

  The girls are chatting to themselves - about some guy called Tom - but I’m just enjoying the press of Alana’s warmth against my own as we make our way down into the stalls.

  “So are you meeting him here?” Mel, incessant asker of questions, keeps her usual staccato beat up.

  Maybe Alana’s not so bad about that after all, if that’s what her friends are like…

  “Umm…maybe.” Lily responds, glancing around. “I think he said he’d come find me during the break.”

  I look over at her again as I notice that for once Mel’s attention isn’t on Alana.

  “You’ve met someone as well?” I ask, curious.

  “What do you mean as well?!” Alana interrupts, and I grin at her.

  “Don’t tell me we’re back to that this isn’t a date nonsense.” I say, with a mock-despairing note.

  “Well, I’m not sure it is, Caleb. I mean, we didn’t even buy the tickets together.” Alana points out.

  I glance over at Mel, giving her a long-suffering look. “All these expectations. I seriously don’t know how you girls think guys have a clue about this stuff.”

  Mel just laughs at me, “Sorry, Caleb, I’m not taking your side on that one. It’s just simple etiquette to pay to take a girl out.”

  She turns back to Lily, but I lean down to comment in Alana’s ear. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d be one for that little stereotype, hun…”

  “I’m not!” She objects, “Or at least, not the way she made it sound…”

  Interesting. Maybe my feisty girl likes those gestures after all…

  “I’ll buy you an ice cream in the interval then,” I promise as we all sit down together.

  She gives me a strange look. “This
is a college performance, Caleb. They don’t sell ice cream in the interval here. What sort have you been to?”

  “Well, I’ll take you out to the campus shop after then. Happy?” I tease her even as I ignore the question.

  Why are there so many things to catch me out? It’s not like I ever got the chance to go away to college and learn this shit, I’m making it up as I go along here.

  But she just rolls her eyes at me and settles down.

  My gaze darts around the theater and stage as it does when we go anywhere, and I frown a little at the billowing curtains, but after a few weeks of nothing happening, I can’t deny my vigilance is wavering.

  I’m made for fast, hit-and-run action, not standing around waiting for something to happen. It isn’t in my blood. I do high intensity, crazy moments followed by a nice, long downtime. And without those moments…my body gets set into relaxing a bit, and it’s damn hard to convince it otherwise.

  If he had anyone else, Sullivan should’ve replaced me a week ago - but he doesn’t, so he’ll have to live with the slightly sub-standard alertness.

  Not that you’re going to be telling him that…

  Alana squeezes my hand as the lights start to dim, smiling up at me, and something strange goes through me as I think of how different her thoughts must be to mine - and how oddly sweet it is to be here, doing completely normal things with a girl who knows nothing about who I am.

  Almost as if my life were normal.

  Then the bright lights flick onto the stage from above, and the music starts, and push that thought from my mind.

  Instead, I relax and manage to settle in to enjoy it for all of two minutes. Then I remember exactly who the fuck I am and what I’m doing.

  And the pretty lights and dramatic music - the bodies and shadows flying and leaping all over the stage - suddenly mean something completely different.

  Danger and deception and the chance for some unknown killer to strike.

  Fuck.

  I look over at Alana, but she’s smiling and watching the show, with just an occasional muttered comment to Mel or a glance at me.

 

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