The Prince's Fake Fiancée

by Leah Ashton

  ‘Umm—’ she began, and then stopped. Swallowed, and straightened her shoulders. ‘I had a boyfriend a few years ago,’ she said, her tone now strong and clear. ‘Stuart. We worked together, actually. He was a sergeant. Not in the same unit as me at the Australian National Police, but we shared the same building, and worked together on some jobs.’ She still held her wine glass, but now she just swirled the liquid around a bit, and didn’t drink. ‘He was a few years older than me. Very handsome, very successful, and very well respected. And very charming. I fell for him, hard. It wasn’t like any other relationship I’d had—although, honestly, I haven’t had that many.’

  If Marko found any of this uncomfortable, he didn’t reveal it in any way.

  ‘We’d been together a few months, although we hadn’t told anyone at work. Stuart had been really clear on that—and he made it sound like he was protecting me. That if things didn’t work out between us, that it wouldn’t look good if I was the girl who’d had some fling with a guy at work.’ She paused now, to let her gaze drift from where it had been focused on her phone, to meet again with Marko’s. ‘Obviously that’s stupid—why should I be the one worried about my reputation, and not him? But that was just the culture really—I worked with eighty-five per cent men. I knew they would judge me. Back then, though, that reality didn’t make me angry. I just accepted it.’

  Briefly, Jas considering moving to sit beside Marko, but she felt as if her bare feet were glued to the plush carpet.

  ‘Anyway, after a few months I guess I sensed that maybe Stuart was drifting away. He cancelled on me a few times. Wasn’t always sleeping over. That kind of thing. Although when we were together he still said all the right things—which I now know was more about keeping me on the hook rather than having any basis in truth. But at the time, obviously, I didn’t realise that. And I did want the spark of the start of our relationship back. So—I decided to send him some sexy photos.’

  Jas did take a long drink of her wine now.

  ‘So it was all my idea, not his, if that’s what you’re wondering. And at the time, it was kind of fun. I mean, it felt pretty risqué, a bit naughty...’

  She closed her eyes.

  ‘Actually, even now, I’m not ashamed of the photos. Not at all.’

  Her tone was challenging, as if she expected Marko to argue with her.

  ‘You did nothing wrong,’ he said, repeating his words from yesterday. ‘The photos are beautiful.’

  She shook her head, not really wanting to acknowledge a compliment right now. ‘My mistake wasn’t in taking the photos, but in who I sent them to. And I worked that out very quickly. I took the photos on a Saturday night, and Stuart loved them, of course. We spent the day together on Sunday. And then, on Monday, at work, things were different.’

  Jas finished her wine, then placed it, with hands that were shaking just a little, onto the tray beside the ice bucket.

  ‘I told myself I was being paranoid. That I was imagining things. But by lunch it was obvious what had happened—there was too much smirking, or suddenly cut-short conversations for it to be anything else. Stuart wasn’t responding to my text messages, and he wouldn’t answer his phone, so in the end I had to go into his office to confront him. I asked if he’d sent the photos to anyone, and he promised on his mother’s life that he hadn’t. But—and maybe he did have a shred of humanity, or maybe he realised that I was about to start screaming at him—he did admit to showing them to a couple of the guys.’

  She rolled her eyes. A couple of the guys. Right.

  The moment he’d admitted what he’d done had been shocking. Part of her, even then, hadn’t wanted to believe it was real. That the man she’d thought she’d loved would do something like this to her.

  And aside from that, the gross invasion of her privacy was simply horrific. To think of so many people having looked at her body, judged her body, without her consent...

  Even now her stomach churned.

  ‘I watched him delete the photos from his phone, and then I went straight to HR to find out what I could do. I couldn’t keep on working in those conditions. Team is everything in the police, and now I felt like I could trust no one. I’m sure some of the guys didn’t look at the photos. Many, probably. But who had?

  ‘So I asked if I could make a complaint or something. Do something. Have some sort of agency, you know? But the couple of people I spoke to focused more on the fact I’d taken the photos, rather than the fact Stuart shared them with what felt like half the department. They seemed to care more about my “poor decisions” than Stuart’s. I have no idea if their view reflected the relevant policy or procedure or whatever, but I wasn’t about to find out. I’ve told you before about the frustrations of being a woman in the police force, but most of the time I could deal with it. I could focus on the bigger picture. From that moment, as the worst day of my life suddenly became my fault, I’d had enough. So I quit.’

  ‘And started Gallagher Personal Protection Services,’ Marko added.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, with a brief, broad smile, ‘I did.’

  Marko stood up, and walked to Jasmine.

  He reached out, and untangled her hands from each other—although she hadn’t even realised she’d been twisting and untwisting her fingers together until his touch halted her. He held both her hands gently, and waited while Jas slowly lifted her gaze from their joined clasp to meet with his.

  ‘Dragi moj,’ Marko said, so softly. ‘I’m really sorry that this happened to you, and that, because you’re helping me, it’s happening again.’

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ she said. ‘I’m tough. I can handle it.’

  ‘I know you will,’ he said. Then he shook his head. ‘Jasmine Gallagher, you are remarkable.’

  Then he kissed her, as tears—for no reason Jas could fathom—made her throat feel tight and her eyes prickle.

  When they broke apart, he spoke against her lips—just as Jas had spoken against his earlier. ‘Thank you for trusting me.’

  Jas closed her eyes. She did trust him.

  Dragi moj.

  It was a phrase that she did recognise—an endearment she’d looked up after hearing it between Lukas and Petra, and between other couples while she’d been in Vela Ada.

  My dear one.

  It was hardly an extravagant display of affection—Jas knew it was just Marko offering her comfort. And yet—he’d never called her that before, and those simple words...said so softly in Marko’s delicious, dark accent...

  They’d made her heart ache. And dream, just fleetingly, of so much more with Marko.

  But, while she knew that she could trust him with her past, and that he would never do anything like what Stuart had done to her...

  It wasn’t photos or secrets that she feared when it came to the Prince standing before her.

  What scared her was how she was going to stop herself from trusting him with her heart.

  Chapter Fourteen

  IT SEEMED SUCH a shame to wake her.

  Marko sat on the edge of Jas’s bed, fully dressed. He’d been up for hours, his whirling thoughts making it impossible to sleep.

  For the first time in his life he’d used his royal status to be unreasonable—he’d woken Ivan up well before five a.m., and shortly afterwards a very sleepy Palace Communications Secretary had been driven through the palace gates.

  A long, at times heated, conversation had then been had—and now Marko was satisfied with what was going to happen next.

  He just needed Jasmine to approve.

  As if she sensed the direction of his thoughts, Jas’s eyes fluttered open. She’d fallen asleep in his arms, in her bathrobe, as they’d watched some action movie they’d both taken great glee in dismantling for copious inaccuracies.

  ‘Why bring a SWAT team if the detectives are going to go in first?’

  ‘That i
s not how you hold that firearm.’

  ‘Are they really going to touch all that evidence?’

  ‘Dobro jutro,’ Jas said now.

  Pillow creases on her cheek did nothing to distract from how gorgeous she looked—her hair tumbled across her pillow, and her eyes almost green in the early morning light.

  ‘Good morning to you, too,’ he said. ‘Kako si?’

  She shook her head, laughing. ‘Nope, I’ve got nothing. I’ve exhausted my grasp of your language.’

  ‘How are you?’ he tried again, his lips quirking.

  ‘Ah,’ she said, ‘I do know that one.’ She stretched expansively, reached her arms up above her head, so her fingers grazed against the bedhead. ‘Fabulous,’ she said, making the word as long and elastic as the movement of her body.

  ‘I’m glad to hear that,’ he said.

  Jas seemed to register now that he was dressed, and must have seen something in his expression. She pulled herself up so she was sitting.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.

  ‘I’ve just heard that our legal team and the police have had no luck in tracking down the person or persons attempting to extort you.’

  Jas shrugged, but he saw the flicker of disappointment in her expression. ‘Isn’t that what we expected?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘But I’d hoped...’

  She nodded. Yes, she’d hoped too. ‘So we’re going ahead with the press release today?’

  ‘Yes,’ Marko said. ‘That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.’

  Jas looked at him curiously. They’d both already approved the content yesterday.

  ‘I’ve changed the phrasing of the release, slightly,’ Marko said. He handed the piece of paper he’d been holding to Jas.

  She read through it carefully, occasionally flicking her gaze upwards to meet his.

  ‘This is more than a slight change,’ she said. ‘The original press release was from the palace. This is from you.’

  ‘There’s something else,’ Marko said. ‘Rather than just releasing it, I’d like to make a video of me reading it, and release that instead.’

  ‘Why?’ Jas’s tone was direct, almost accusatory. It surprised him.

  ‘Because what happened to you a few years ago was not acceptable, and what’s happening now is not acceptable. I think that message will be stronger if it comes from me personally, rather than with just the palace letterhead.’

  Jas shook her head. ‘You don’t have to do that, Marko. I’ll be out of the public eye in a few months’ time. It’s not like I’m really Vela Ada’s future princess that you need to defend.’

  He didn’t understand her reaction. ‘I know I don’t have to do this. But I want to. Last night... I was so angry about it I couldn’t sleep. I watched you sleeping in my arms and hated how helpless I felt.’

  ‘I don’t need you to protect me, Marko.’

  Jas stood up and walked over to the window, pulling the curtains all the way open, so sunlight now flooded the room. Before the room had felt sleepy and fuzzy edged, now everything was hard and stark.

  Marko didn’t move from where he sat on the bed, giving her the space she seemed to need.

  ‘But that’s the thing, Jas,’ he said. ‘I can’t protect you from stuff like this. Clearly, I haven’t. And you didn’t sign up for this—this never would’ve happened if you hadn’t agreed to help me. I’ve put up with this rubbish my whole life, but to drag you into it, to drag my fiancée into it, and in this way... It crossed a line.’

  Jas turned from the window to face him. She’d crossed her arms, and was hugging herself tightly. ‘But I’m not really your fiancée.’

  Her lips quirked upwards, but only momentarily.

  ‘That doesn’t matter. Why do you think I’ve never fallen—?’

  He’d been thinking married, but he’d almost said fallen in love.

  He mentally gave himself a shake. That didn’t matter either.

  ‘I’ve never addressed the gossip and lies published about myself before. The palace has a legal team to deal with the libellous, but anything simply fictional I’ve let slide. And in my silence I’ve created space for my grossly exaggerated Playboy Prince persona and I am not going to create space for the violation of your privacy in this way by yet more silence.’ He held Jas’s gaze unwaveringly as he spoke. ‘A carefully worded press release in palace-speak is not good enough. I want anyone, anywhere in the world who considers publishing your photos to know that I, personally, will go after them should they do so. And I will do everything in my power to destroy them.’

  For long seconds the room was completely silent.

  Jasmine uncrossed her arms. ‘Destroy seems rather a strong word,’ she said, with half a grin. ‘How exactly would you do that?’

  But her smile did not reach her eyes, which gleamed with...unshed tears? He couldn’t imagine Jas Gallagher crying.

  ‘Details,’ he said, with a wave of his hand. ‘Believe me, I’d find a way.’

  And he would.

  He stood, and strode to stand before Jas.

  ‘So?’ he asked. ‘Do you approve?’

  She nodded, then tilted her chin upwards to look up at him. She’d blinked away any tears—or maybe they’d never existed.

  ‘Just one thing,’ she said. ‘Can I do it with you?’

  Marko smiled. ‘I was hoping you’d say that.’

  * * *

  Jas and Marko filmed their statement in the Knight’s Hall.

  They sat together on a small baroque-style couch with an ornate, gold-leafed frame, with their hands linked together and rested casually on the red velvet upholstery as they each read from the teleprompter.

  Marko was dressed in a charcoal suit, and Jas in an elegant cream boat-neck dress. Her hair and make-up were professionally styled and applied—and it all felt very formal for not even nine o’clock in the morning.

  Marko spoke first in the Vela Ada dialect. Immediately afterwards, he repeated what he’d said in English.

  Jas knew exactly what he was going to say, and yet, still, his words made her throat feel tight, and her fingers grip his more firmly.

  Partly it was because, well...it was pretty damn confronting to be faced with the reality that immediately after this statement was released there was a high probability naked photos of her would end up in cyberspace.

  If she thought about that too long she’d want to curl up in a hole somewhere and never face the light of day—or the judgment of Joe Public—ever again.

  But the emotions she was feeling—embarrassment, regret—were losing a battle against the bubbling elation she felt about what they were doing.

  Initially she’d balked when he’d told her his plans. She’d hated the idea of someone else fighting her battles for her. Of doubting her ability to look after herself.

  But as he’d stood before her in her room, in front of that amazing view of Vela Ada, she’d slowly realised that Marko wasn’t trying to fight anything for her, he wanted to go into battle beside her.

  And as hard as she might have tried to convince herself—at first—that he would do this for anyone, she didn’t actually believe that.

  For all their talk of fun and no expectations—and she still had no expectations—she knew that right now there was a connection between them. Right now she had Marko beside her in every sense of the word. And right now, that was exactly what she needed.

  Marko was speaking of his long history and poor relationship with the media. Of his journey from anger to apathy when it came to how he’d been portrayed, and his regret that he had not made a stand earlier.

  He spoke, heartbreakingly, of the cruelty of being photographed during the worst time of his life as his father died—of having images of his grief only a click away, and impossible to escape.

  ‘You may say this is
the price I pay for being a prince, but, as grateful as I am for my privileged life, it is still my life, and I have the same rights to privacy as everyone else. Just as Jasmine does, too.’

  Marko shifted his gaze from the teleprompter to meet her own.

  ‘And, of course, this is not about me.’

  Marko squeezed her hand as Jas steadied her gaze on the teleprompter.

  ‘Several years ago,’ she began, ‘I sent some naked photos of myself to my then boyfriend, and later, without my permission, he shared those photos with others.’ Jas swallowed. ‘I want to make it clear that even now I do not regret taking those photos. I am not ashamed of them. However, they are personal photos taken with a very specific audience in mind. An audience I chose. I never wished for anyone to ever see them without my permission, and when that happened it was awful—and the way I felt I wouldn’t wish on anyone. I made a mistake in putting my trust in a man who did not deserve it. I do not regret taking those photos, but I do not want anyone else to see them.’ She paused. ‘Should these photos be released, I am putting my trust in you. I am trusting you to respect my privacy, in the way that everyone on this planet should have their privacy respected.’

  Jas repeated her statement in carefully practised Slavic.

  And then—her part was done.

  She was still being filmed as Marko finished their statement, so she couldn’t relax, as such. And yet, she definitely did feel as if a weight had been lifted.

  A weight she’d been carrying for years—and that insidious voice that had blamed herself for what had happened, that had told her she was stupid, naïve, and blinded by love, had finally been silenced.

  She’d known, logically, that she’d been the victim. She’d known that if she had decided to pursue charges against Stuart the law was on her side.

  But that hadn’t mattered in the end. Everyone she’d told had been shocked she’d taken the photos, and had struggled to understand why she’d done it. Only Marko hadn’t cared about any of that. He hadn’t judged her. Instead, he’d understood her.

  ‘I ask you to remember that she did not choose to fall in love with a prince. She fell in love with me.’