“Charise,” he said easily, then gestured to Jane. “Here’s your victim.”

  “I’ll get set up,” Charise said easily. “Is here all right, miss? Or should I set up in a bedroom?”

  Jane blinked. “Um... the bedroom?”

  “Right!” The woman cheerfully disappeared into the spare bedroom.

  “You got me a massage?” Jane said, obviously stunned.

  He couldn’t help himself. He stroked her cheek. “Charise is great, you’ll like her. And maybe we can work some of those knots out of your shoulders.”

  Jane stuck her tongue out at him, and he laughed. “When she’s done, you might want a nice soak in the tub,” he said. “Then I’m sending up a makeup artist and a hair stylist. Your gown and whatnot should be here by then.”

  Jane’s eyes were wide. “This is amazing,” she breathed. “Thank you.”

  “You’re helping me,” he said, in a low voice, next to her ear. “Now, go unwind.”

  She disappeared in the spare bedroom.

  A few hours later, he was showered, shaved, and dressed in his favorite tux. He walked out into the main room of the suite to find the stylist and makeup artist leaving, giving him a little curtsy. He nodded, waving and saying “Thank you” at their disappearing backs.

  “Jane? You ready?” he called out, adjusting his diamond cuff links. Then he looked up and almost swallowed his tongue.

  She was wearing an ice-blue gown, with a gauzy skirt and top that made her look like the world’s sexiest cloud. Her hair was swept up in a loose knot, with tendrils and curls coming out to frame her face. Her green eyes looked huge, fringed with heavy lashes, and her mouth...

  God, her mouth.

  His own mouth went dry as he thought about all the ways he wanted to enjoy her lips. His body went taut, and he forced himself to relax as best he could.

  “Is this all right?” she asked, doing a little turn. Her high heels made her legs look like they went on for miles, despite her short height.

  “That’s perfect,” he said, walking up to her. “You look beautiful.”

  She smiled at him shyly, and he felt it like an arrow in his chest. Clearing his throat, he offered her his arm.

  “Let’s go.”

  They took the limo from the palace to the hotel. It was newly built, looking like a trio of towers that had a large joined box at the top. It was visually stunning. They exited, went through the hotel’s sumptuous lobby, and took the elevator to the large penthouse courtyard.

  “Oh my goodness,” Jane breathed. He didn’t know when he’d tucked her against his side, but she’d wound her arm around his waist after he’d put his arm around her shoulders. She squeezed, showing her surprise. He liked the feeling. “This looks unreal.”

  He glanced around as they stepped into the crowd. There were huge floral arrangements—nothing with chrysanthemums, thank God—and twinkling fairy lights. Liveried waiters silently made the rounds with canapes and flutes of champagne. There were ice sculptures and fountains, a huge parquet dance floor. Even what looked like a large waterfall.

  The hotelier had outdone himself, Ben thought. “You like it?”

  “It’s like being in a fairy land,” Jane said. “I love it.”

  He smiled, warmth permeating his chest. She held her own in the dazzling crowd, looking dream-like and ethereal in the dress. She looked more relaxed, more at ease than he’d seen her since her confession about the genetic test. He wanted to help her. If it were up to him, she’d never feel scared or stressed ever again.

  He didn’t know when she’d become so important to him, but there wasn’t any question: he genuinely cared about her now.

  “Ben!”

  He turned, surprised, only to find his two best friends, Erik and Nic, heading for him, escorting their wives. “I didn’t know you two were going to be here,” he said, hugging them.

  “We didn’t know you were going to be here,” Nic replied. “On our last phone call, you said you might be out of town.”

  “To be honest, I didn’t know I’d be here myself,” Ben said, putting an arm around Jane’s shoulders. Ordinarily, he’d be happy to see the lot of them, but their presence had slipped his mind. His focus had been completely on Jane, cheering her up, taking a break from their investigation. And how could he explain that? “Jane, may I present Prince Erik of Fervia, and his lovely wife Clara. This is Prince Nicolas of Mynia, and his lovely wife Summer. Guys, this is my… friend, Jane.”

  “Hi, Jane,” Erik said with a grin. The guy was incorrigible. “About time you brought a date to one of these things, Ben! Thought you were going to fifth-wheel forever.”

  Ben shook his head. He loved Erik like a brother, but the man lacked a filter. “Yes, well...”

  “How did you two meet?” Summer asked, giving Erik a nudge.

  Ben shot a quick look at Jane, who effortlessly moved in. Their story was established, but she was better at talking to others and being convincing. Well... she was technically better at lying, he realized, abruptly uncomfortable.

  “We were eating at the same restaurant,” Jane said. “Actually, there was a flower arrangement with chrysanthemums...”

  She told the same story they’d given his mother, and Nic and Erik laughed, knowing his allergy. “And you just wound up having dinner together?” Nic said, chuckling.

  “Yes. We’ve spent a lot of time together since.”

  “When did he finally tell you he was a prince?” Summer asked, swapping a meaningful look with Clara, who covered her smile.

  “Oh, I knew immediately,” Jane said. “I mean, he was trying to be incognito, with a pair of fake glasses and his hair pulled back. But those good looks are hard to disguise, so I knew him right away.”

  The couples studied her curiously, and he saw her cheeks pinken. He couldn’t help it. He snuggled her to his side, pressing a kiss against her temple. “She always sees through me,” he said.

  Nic nodded in approval. “There is nothing sexier than a smart woman,” he said, kissing his own wife, who smiled.

  “Hear, hear,” Erik agreed. “And one who won’t take you too seriously!” Clara laughed, throwing her arms around his neck and nuzzling him.

  “It’s lucky that you knew, actually,” Summer said. “You’re probably the only one of the three of us who didn’t have to deal with secrets or anything like that. I mean, all’s well that ends well, but it’s hard for a relationship to survive that kind of drama, you know?”

  Guilt punched Ben hard, right in his chest. The thing was, he wasn’t keeping a secret from Jane—he was keeping secrets from his dearest friends. Given how much he hated lying, he felt wretched, but this was too important and too delicate to share with them right now. Especially not in such a public setting. It seemed like the wealthiest business and nobles and celebrities of Reinia, maybe even Europe, were here at this hotel.

  Jane must have sensed his discomfiture, because she grabbed his hand, squeezing it. He was amazed at how well she read him—and how comforting just a simple grip could be.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Summer said, reddening. “I suppose you had a lot going on… with your father.”

  Ben stiffened.

  “His stroke must have come as quite a shock,” Summer continued, and Ben tried to calm the hammering of his heart in his chest. Of course that was what she was referring to. “How is he doing?”

  “He’s... um, recovering. Still on bedrest,” Ben said, hating how stilted his voice sounded. “The royal doctor is keeping an eye on him, but he seems to be convalescing nicely, if somewhat slowly.”

  “I’m sure he’ll feel better soon,” Summer assured him.

  Ben felt even more wretched. He’d just meant to take Jane out, help her relax. But now...

  “I’m sorry to drag him away, but this guy promised me a dance,” Jane said with a bright, affectionate smile. And then she kissed his cheek. It distracted him from his tumultuous emotions, surprising him enough to keep him moving. His friends cheered as she tugged him out to the floor. A slow dance was playing, and she moved into his arms easily, like she’d been doing it for years. He wrapped his arms around her waist as she twined her wrists behind his neck.

  “Are you all right?” she said against his ear, and the heat of her breath made him want to hold her tighter. “You looked stressed.”

  “I hate lying to them,” he said. Of course she’d noticed. And of course she’d done what she could to help him feel better. How lucky was he, to have found her when he did? “I hate keeping secrets.”

  “Don’t worry,” she said, stroking the nape of his neck. “It won’t be forever.”

  They swayed together to the music, and he molded her to him. There they were, faking a relationship... one that felt increasingly real.

  As they danced in the warm summer night, he found himself thinking...

  What if I want it to be forever… with her?

  11

  Jane felt like she was in a fairy tale. The music, the dancing... even the handsome prince, sweeping her off her feet. She didn’t want it to ever end. She was sitting at a table, eating some delicious gourmet appetizers. She even enjoyed the company of the other island princes, Ben’s best friends. She had great company, in a perfect setting, with a charming, attentive, wonderful partner.

  Too bad it was all a front.

  The thought made her frown, snapping her out of her perfect little reverie. She looked at Ben, who had been pulled aside by the hotelier. The guy was obviously rich and suave. He shook hands with Ben, telling him something, and Ben looked back at her before nodding. The man brightened and hurried off.

  Ben returned to her side. “Want another dance?”

  She sighed. They really didn’t need to keep up the pretense; they’d gotten the lead they needed, and couldn’t investigate further until they were back in London. That, and she knew the more they were seen “dating” in public, the harder she’d have to work to convince people that their “relationship” had all been a cover for the story. Even then, it was going to be touchy. She sighed. She really, really shouldn’t.

  “Just one dance,” she heard herself say, and inwardly winced.

  It’s just one night, she told herself. She wouldn’t have this chance again. She didn’t see a lot of extravagant parties in her future, especially if she got the investigative journalist job.

  She wouldn’t have another chance to be with Ben, either, she realized with a pang. That alone made her follow him back to the dance floor, her hand in his strong, comforting grasp.

  He wrapped her in his arms, and she moved against him like they’d been doing it for years. He sighed, holding her tighter, and her heart just melted as she leaned against him.

  “You all right?” he asked against her ear.

  She nodded, not trusting her voice to stay steady. She snuggled a little. She really shouldn’t indulge this way, but she couldn’t help herself. “Just a little tired,” she finally said, even though it was a blatant lie. “And... my feet hurt a little. I guess I’m not used to wearing heels this high all the time.”

  There. That sounded believable. Besides, she needed to cut this off. It was a pipe dream, an illusion. It was only going to hurt worse when they finally bagged the story, and Ben left her life for good. She couldn’t believe how close they’d gotten, and how quickly. She was going to miss him—not for visits to luxurious palaces, or fancy parties, but for simply spending time with him. His humor, his quirks, his passion.

  She really, really liked his passion... especially when it was aimed at her.

  She could feel his lips brush against her jaw, and she wasn’t sure if it was accidental, a display for the others, or if it was deliberate. Whatever the purpose, she still shivered with need before she got a hold of herself. “If your feet hurt, we don’t have to go all the way back to the palace,” he murmured, his voice low and rumbly and delicious.

  She pulled back enough to look at him with confusion. “We don’t?” she asked, not sure what he was saying. She tried laughing it off. “I think they’ll mind if I just wander through here in bare feet, Ben. That’s not very classy.”

  Was it a trick of the light or were his cheeks flushed? “Ah... the hotelier? The one who invited us, who’s having this grand opening?” When she nodded, Ben stared at her, his eyes seeming to look into her soul. “It turns out he offered penthouses to all the princes... Erik, Nic, and me. This is the flagship, but he’s going to be building resorts on the other islands. And it’s a big deal if we stay here, especially on the opening night.”

  She tilted her head, her brain processing. Then her breath caught.

  He means staying together. Here. In a penthouse.

  With just one bed, her treacherous mind supplied. And her body heated.

  She knew what he was asking.

  “Not that we have to stay the whole night,” he hedged, giving her a way out. “You could just, you know, kick your shoes off, hang out on the bed, raid the minibar for tiny little bottles of whiskey and miniscule jars of nuts and dried fruit.”

  She laughed, some of the tension of the moment easing. Yes, they’d have an opportunity to have sex… but he was leaving it up to her. Giving her space, letting her think it over.

  They’d shared kisses, and God knew the attraction between them was both obvious and intense. But there were so many reasons why doing this was a bad idea.

  She swallowed. “The penthouse?” she asked.

  He nodded. “It’s just downstairs.”

  She bit her lip.

  The thing was, a good part of her didn’t care if it was a bad idea. She’d been attracted to Ben since their ill-advised “fake kiss” in the records room, when a nuclear blast of heat had exploded through her, catching her completely unaware. Despite their attempts to keep things platonic, she couldn’t help being more and more aware of him physically—the depths of his eyes, that sexy smile, the sculpted planes of his body. Even more, the way they simply clicked, the way he listened to her even when he was annoyed, the way he did things—like getting her a massage or bringing her here—just to try to make her life easier. He was a better fake boyfriend than any real boyfriend she’d ever had.

  Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, then nodded.

  “All right.” She paused. “But… we might as well… spend the night.”

  She saw the moment the import of her words sank in. Ben’s expression went from concerned to molten in about five seconds flat. He held out a hand, and she took it, letting him lead her to the elevators.

  There were going to be consequences. She just had to make sure she could live with them, because saying no to Ben seemed downright impossible.

  Excitement coursed through Ben as he ushered Jane through the party, then down one floor to the only room, the penthouse suite. He knew it was going to be sumptuous, luxuriously appointed, probably state of the art, and he could not care less. All he cared about was that it had a bed, and that he and Jane could finally, after all this dizzying attraction, make love in it.

  They entered the room with the code the hotelier had supplied, locking it. She kicked off her shoes, looking like a sprite in her gown. She reached up, taking the pins from her hair and letting it tumble in wild waves across her bare shoulders. She looked up at him, her green eyes all but glowing with emotion.

  He wasn’t sure who moved first, but in seconds, the two of them were fused together, their lips roaming hungrily, the kiss going deep and hot in a matter of moments. He growled, pulling her tight to him, lifting her, molding her body to his. She let out a little squeak, then wrapped her legs around his waist. He’d already been semihard, but now he went hard as iron in a second.

  “God, I want you,” he rasped, carrying her over to the huge bed and sliding her on top of it. She surveyed him, propping herself on her elbows, as he quickly tugged off his tie and jacket. Desire made his fingers shake, so the whole process was clumsier and slower than he would’ve liked, but her look of admiration and the way her pink tongue slicked along her bottom lip made it worth it as he took off his shirt.

  “You’ve got some catching up to do,” he pointed out. She started to unzip her dress, then looked at him, almost regretfully.

  He paused immediately.

  “What? What’s wrong?” he asked, sitting on the bed. “Second thoughts? We don’t have to...”

  “Ben, I want you.”

  The words slammed through him. “I want you, too,” he said. “God, I want you.”

  “But it’s complicated.”

  He frowned. “I don’t see why.”

  “I’m going to be writing a story. That’s why I’m here,” she said, her voice low and somber.

  “That doesn’t have anything to do with this,” he said. “I couldn’t have done as much research as I have without you, and you’re absolutely brilliant. That definitely contributes to why I want you. But I’m not... we’re not...”

  “I know,” she reassured him with a small smile. “But if it comes out that we were sleeping together while I was working on this story, it would be unethical. My superiors would consider it a conflict of interest at best, sex as payment for information at worst.”

  He reared back, appalled. “You would never!”

  “No, I wouldn’t,” she said. “Anyone else, there’s no way I would even consider this. But you go to my head, Ben.” She looked at him tenderly. “You make me want things.”

  He took a deep breath. “I don’t want to jeopardize your career,” he said slowly.

  “No.” She bit her lip, and he had to clamp down on the sheer heat that that little innocuous action slammed through him. “The way I see it... we could have one night.”

  “One night?” He was amazed at how those few little words hit him with both hope and despair.

  “We don’t tell anyone, and we pretend it never happened,” she said. “It’s the only way. If anyone asks, we say that the dating was all part of a cover story, we were never really involved. And it has to end immediately once the story is published.”