The Prince's Fake Fiancée

by Leah Ashton

  She stood, on tiptoes, to speak almost against his lips. ‘Can I kiss you?’ she said, repurposing Marko’s own words.

  ‘You, Jasmine Gallagher, can do anything you want.’

  And so Jas was smiling as she bridged the tiniest of gaps between them to press her mouth against his.

  At first, their kiss had many similarities to that one in front of the glitterati of Vela Ada. His lips were warm, and tasted of just a hint of the salty breeze—and remained closed. As if he was waiting for her.

  Like then, they were joined only by their hands and lips, and like then, it was incredibly, impossibly sexy.

  A kiss that promised so much more, and now—now there was no question that there was definitely so much more to come.

  But it was as if because of that knowledge they’d both decided to build the anticipation, to wait just that little bit longer. To allow the heat that had already built between them to keep on building until every fibre of their bodies felt engulfed in flames.

  And so, when Jasmine’s lips finally opened against Marko’s, and he brushed his tongue against hers, the sensation was so incredible, so overwhelming, that Jas—strong, capable, always together Jas—felt her knees give way.

  But she fell no further than into Marko’s arms—that were there so quickly it was as if he knew what would happen, or maybe he had fallen into her as well.

  It didn’t matter; all Jas knew now was that her hands were twined behind Marko’s neck and his hands were at her waist and back, pressing her close against him.

  To be held against Marko was just something else entirely. After weeks of sparks from simply holding hands to now have his chest, his hips, his thighs pressed hard against hers was enough to make Jas sure she would ignite.

  Or combust into that puddle of lust she’d teased Marko about but had always been revealingly close to the truth.

  Marko did something to her in a way that she’d never experienced before.

  It had her believing in things she had no place believing: that love and happy ever afters were actually possible.

  Although—obviously—not with Marko.

  She moved her mouth from Marko’s, to take a deep breath and try and right her rioting, silly thoughts. But Marko only took the opportunity to press kisses against her jaw, working his way to the sensitive skin of her neck and below her ear.

  He murmured something against her skin, foreign words that could have meant anything, but still practically made her swoon.

  This was not the time for thinking, it was for feeling, and so Jas simply closed her eyes and let sensation take over.

  Her own hands traced patterns against his neck and shoulders, and brushed through his army-short hair. She worked one hand back to his front, in an attempt to undo his tie in a quest to touch more of his skin—but she soon gave up and simply slid a button undone. Then two.

  Marko’s hands were searching for bare skin too, one making its way to her bare shoulders, his fingers sliding just slightly beneath the fabric below her shoulder blades.

  Then he was kissing her mouth again, and if the kiss had begun as Jasmine’s it was now all Marko’s as he kissed her thoroughly with lips and tongue—at times teasing her with his mouth, or allowing her to tease him—and then he’d take control in a way that made Jas lose sense of anything. When she was lost within his kiss.

  Eventually, Jas—or Marko, she had no idea—broke their lips apart, and they stood, foreheads still touching, as they each took deep, harsh breaths.

  ‘Do we need to go back to the marquee?’ Jas asked when she was again capable of speaking.

  ‘Probably,’ Marko said, but his smile was wicked. ‘Lukas definitely would.’

  ‘Are we?’ Jas prompted.

  Marko took a step back, and his gaze travelled across Jasmine—with now-familiar heat in it—from her eyes, to her lips, then down to the askew bodice of her dress and her breasts that still rose and fell rapidly.

  Jas took Marko in too—his own heavy breathing, that gorgeous olive skin she could see where she’d so artlessly yanked his shirt open...and the promises in his piercing blue gaze.

  ‘We’re not going back to the marquee,’ Jas said.

  ‘No,’ Marko agreed, lacing his fingers with hers as he led her back down the rocky steps. ‘We—most definitely—are not.’

  Chapter Ten

  HE’D NEVER SLEPT with a woman in the palace.

  This realisation—in both senses of the word—came to Marko as the dawn crept its way around the edges of his curtains.

  Although, he wasn’t so much looking at his curtains as looking at Jasmine—her shape revealed in increasingly more satisfying detail as the morning light gradually entered his suite.

  She lay, fast asleep, naked, beside him. She had her back to him, his sheets caught up around her waist, but leaving her back bare. While he’d been contemplating the realisation that Jas was the only woman who’d lain beside him here, he’d only been able to see as much as the darkness would allow: not much more than her silhouette, her hair a dark wave against the crisp whiteness of her pillow.

  But now, he could appreciate the pale alabaster of her skin, and the gentle curve of her spine. He could recognise the smattering of freckles he’d discovered last night on her shoulders, and he could be grateful that his sheets did not hide the smooth roundness of her bottom.

  And he could also wonder at how he felt, having a woman here. In the palace. With him.

  Last night, it hadn’t even been a consideration. Nothing had been more important than returning home, and kissing Jasmine again. And again.

  It also would’ve been ridiculous to go anywhere else.

  They were supposedly engaged. To take her to a hotel would’ve been ludicrous, if it had even occurred to him.

  But it hadn’t. So here he was, with a woman in his room.

  He supposed, up until now, bringing a woman into the palace had never been a possibility. The palace wasn’t the place to bring a one-night stand—and yes, at one stage, he’d had his fair share of those—but it equally wasn’t the place to bring any woman he’d been seeing.

  To do so would imply too much—it would imply a relationship, and a relationship was something he’d never had.

  But even if he had—if something had stretched from weeks to months with a woman—the palace was not the place he would’ve wanted to take her.

  This place, to Marko, was a place of suffocation. And of scrutiny and surveillance. Here he was controlled by the expectations of his birth, of his family, his brother—and of everyone in Vela Ada.

  Here there was no pretending that he wasn’t a prince. Here it was all he was.

  He’d never wanted to bring a woman into that. To put her through that.

  Yet, despite all that—here Jas was. In the palace, and in his bed.

  So—how did he feel about it?

  Not great.

  But also—not entirely bad.

  Not even close to bad, actually.

  His unease at the situation was more an itchiness in his subconscious—an awareness that he should be feeling regret right now.

  Yet he didn’t. He wouldn’t say he felt comfortable, exactly. But equally, he didn’t want Jas to leave his bed any time soon.

  The realisation surprised him, but, as he watched Jasmine roll onto her back, still asleep, one arm out-flung and now almost touching his shoulder, it probably shouldn’t.

  It was because Jasmine had come to his room with no expectations.

  In her typical way she hadn’t even allowed him to kiss her without determining exactly what she was getting into—much like the way she had her team scout out venues before events. Jas was always prepared in her professional career—and it would seem she approached her personal life in the same way.

  Marko smiled as he reached that conclusion.
/>   Jas made him smile a lot, he’d discovered. When they’d both backed off after his accidental divulgement at that private beach, it had felt like the right decision. But within days he’d missed the way she teased him, and her willingness to say whatever popped into her head.

  Fortunately, it hadn’t lasted long, and he supposed he should’ve realised he and Jas were always heading in this direction, and into bed. Right from the start he’d been drawn to her, he just hadn’t realised how strongly until meeting that silly couple with their misplaced jealousy.

  Although, that wasn’t entirely true.

  He’d known how strongly he was drawn to Jasmine from the moment he’d kissed her that very first evening. He’d just, as he’d told Jas, not pursued it.

  Jas had been right to keep things professional between them. And he’d needed to minimise any complications amidst this exceedingly complicated deception. He couldn’t risk anything going wrong, because he needed to keep everything together for Lukas.

  But yesterday...

  Suddenly, he hadn’t been able to pretend any more.

  And because of Jasmine—because of who she was—so straightforward, so structured—he knew she had no expectations beyond right now. Whether it led to tomorrow, or a week, or the rest of their three-month contract—it would end eventually. Jas was not imagining herself as a future princess, and as such there was no significance in her lying here beside him right now.

  None.

  So that must be why he felt fine.

  Actually—as Jas’s eyes fluttered open and her lips formed into a sleepy, sexy good-morning smile—he changed his mind.

  Right now—as he leant forward to kiss the beautiful, naked woman in his bed—he felt pretty damn fantastic.

  * * *

  Given the nature of Jas’s career, she’d never been particularly active on social media. You never knew how a person with nefarious intentions might track or monitor a client she was looking after, so it wasn’t as if she could ever post a selfie of herself at work or anything. Nevertheless, she did have social media accounts, even though she’d been ignoring the hundreds of messages she’d received since the news of her ‘engagement’ had become news across the world.

  Soon after she and Marko eventually emerged from his suite for an extremely late breakfast on the terrace, Marko had been called away for something royal-related by Ivan, and while she’d waited for him to return she’d logged into her account on her phone.

  Slowly she weeded through her messages—ignoring those from people she didn’t know at all, and also those from friends of the ‘we went to kindergarten together but I probably wouldn’t recognise you in the local supermarket’ variety.

  To the rest—some of her friends from the police academy, and the small group of women she’d gone to high school with that she still always made sure to catch up with when in Canberra—she sent short messages that didn’t invite extended conversation.

  Yes, I’m really engaged to a prince. I’m sorry we had to keep it secret until now, I hope you understand. Don’t worry—I’ll tell you all the details when I’m next home.

  And by then, of course, it would all be over.

  Jas still didn’t feel okay about lying to her friends, but for some reason, now, it didn’t feel so impossible.

  Maybe it didn’t feel so much of a lie now that she had some form of relationship with Marko? Other than a business relationship, of course.

  Jas smiled. Yup, it was definitely more than a business relationship, now.

  To wake up this morning the way she had—with Marko there, simply looking at her, with the most remarkable expression in his eyes... And then...

  Well.

  It had been pretty damn spectacular.

  Jas looked up from her phone at the sound of Marko’s footsteps. It was a little cooler today, and he wore jeans and a faded T-shirt. He hadn’t bothered to shave that morning, and Jas thought the shadow of stubble across his jaw made him even more impossibly handsome. Like a slightly more dangerous version of Prince Marko. His expression, however, was serious.

  ‘My apologies,’ he said. ‘There is a protest going on outside the Vela Ada courthouse.’

  Marko briefly kissed Jas before he took the seat across from her, the simple action still making her shiver.

  It took her a moment—just a moment—to recall what he’d just said. ‘Anything I need to know about?’

  Anything that could increase Marko’s threat level needed to be considered by her team.

  He nodded. ‘Senator Božić is being sentenced today. Unfortunately his supporters aren’t letting go of their conspiracy theory, or their resolute belief in his innocence.’

  Jas was familiar with the situation, of course. The senator’s corruption had been discovered twelve months ago, shocking the people of Vela Ada and having far-reaching impacts. Dozens of contracts had been cancelled as the corrupt behaviour had been investigated, with Božić taking bribes to influence tender decisions for several capital work projects.

  Businesses had collapsed amidst the scandal—with thousands of innocent workers also losing their jobs.

  It was a very messy situation, and one where King Lukas had taken a far more visible role than was usual for the head of state of Vela Ada’s constitutional monarchy—given Lukas reigned over Vela Ada, but he did not rule it. That was the role of the elected government.

  But the situation had required a sense of unity despite a fractured parliament, and so Lukas had done his best to hold his country together.

  It was primarily why Prince Marko had been needed in Lukas’s absence. In times of turmoil, there was something satisfyingly reassuring in the stability of Vela Ada’s royal family.

  ‘Lukas—and I—have faith that the investigation was fair and the outcome was correct, and to be honest I’d thought that the protests were over now that the government is helping the innocents caught up in all this...’

  Jas had read about how employees of the businesses involved had received one-off payments to go some way towards off setting their financial losses. But not all, of course.

  ‘But it seems not,’ he added, then rubbed his forehead in a gesture that had now become familiar to Jas. He did it in contemplation, and also frustration, she’d discovered.

  ‘So there’ll be a briefing with Palace Security and the police?’

  Marko nodded.

  ‘I don’t imagine this will increase my threat level—the issue that these people have is not with me, or even with Lukas.’

  He was probably correct. ‘When is it?’

  ‘During the opera tonight,’ Marko said.

  ‘Of course it is,’ Jas said, frustrated. ‘But I’ll still need to go to the briefing. I’m not delegating this. I’ll just meet you at the opera later.’

  It wasn’t even a question.

  Marko smiled, and looked utterly unsurprised. ‘I’ve already organised a car for you.’

  * * *

  Jas arrived at the royal box about ten minutes before intermission.

  Even in the muted light, she was stunning in her navy-blue floor-length gown, and with her hair swept up and off her face. She wore jewellery borrowed from the royal collection, so sapphires and diamonds glittered at her ears and décolletage.

  Marko stood to greet her, intensely aware that the whole theatre was no longer paying attention to the performance of La Bohème—but was instead focused on Jasmine’s arrival.

  A vague reason had been provided by the palace for Jas’s tardiness, although it was possible some members of the public might have guessed at the real reason, given the events of the day. It didn’t really matter. There was, of course, intense interest in Jas’s career and how she might—or might not—continue to run her business once she was a princess.

  But, given that wouldn’t actually happen, there’d been no need for M
arko or Jas to provide anything but the barest of answers when asked about it.

  Although, if Jas had actually been his fiancée, Marko definitely knew the answer.

  There was no way she was giving up her career.

  He remembered her adamant expression as she’d told him so clearly that she wouldn’t be delegating tonight’s briefing. Nope. She would not have walked away from a career she so obviously loved.

  He smiled now as Jas reached his side. He took her hand, and, as always, laced his fingers with hers.

  He kissed her—he was definitely taking advantage of this waiver of the no-kissing policy—and then whispered in her ear: ‘How did it go?’

  ‘No official change to the threat level, as there’s been no credible threat to you, or Lukas. But I’m going to bring in a couple of extras from my team, anyway—I should’ve done it earlier, really.’

  ‘Why?’ Marko said as they settled back into their seats. ‘You, and your team, have done an exceptional job.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Jas said. ‘But I can’t possibly be as focused on my protection role while acting as your fiancée. Especially now.’

  Below them, the orchestra and soprano were reaching a crescendo, and Marko sensed—thankfully—that the eyes of the theatre were no longer on them.

  ‘Especially now?’ Marko asked. He still held her hand loosely, and now drew little squiggles on the delicate skin of her wrist with his thumb.

  Jas bumped her shoulder against his, and he could see her smile even as she concentrated on the performance below. ‘Don’t pretend you don’t know exactly how distracting you are.’

  And—just because he could—Marko then told Jas—very quietly—all the distracting things he would like to do to her, right now.

  If they weren’t at the opera, with two bodyguards standing just metres away.

  Then later, back at the palace, they did all those distracting things, together.

  * * *

  The next week was...fun.

  Fun didn’t seem quite the right word, given Jas was, technically, working, but it was definitely accurate.

  When she was with Marko, she always seemed to be smiling.