He sighed heavily. He knew she was right. Besides... he lived in Reinia, and she lived in London. He was going to ascend the throne, and she was working on building her career. He’d only known her for a little over a month. This was probably the best they could manage.

  But he wanted more, he realized. He desperately craved more.

  Still...

  “What do you think?” she said, her eyes wary, yet still blazing with desire.

  “I think,” he said, tugging her zipper down slowly and watching her pupils go wide, “that if we can only have one night, we’d better make it worth it.”

  Her smile was like the sunrise.

  They quickly shed the rest of their clothes. He took a moment to admire the sheer perfection of her, skin smooth and pale and unblemished, rosy nipples on perfect, pert breasts. Her waist nipped in before flaring into generous hips, and of course her long-limbed legs. He stroked his hands over every inch of her, his mouth nipping and exploring as she gasped and writhed beneath him. His own body was tight and hard, eager for her.

  “Ben,” she breathed, reaching for him, clasping him to her. He groaned in response, feeling her nipples pebbling with desire. He reached down to the curls between her legs and delving, gently but with intent. She gasped, and her hips jerked spasmodically, involuntarily. She moaned softly as he dipped deeper, parting her folds, feeling her going slick with desire. He gritted his teeth.

  “Jane,” he said, nipping at her jawline, then moved to her mouth to feast on it. They rubbed against each other, and he slowly notched himself between her thighs. He had to get a hold of himself before things went too far. Despite the temptation, he forced himself to pull away, to reach into the nightstand which had been thoughtfully stocked with condoms. He forced himself to think of quadratic equations and trade policies so he could get his unruly body under control as he sheathed himself.

  “Ben, please,” she urged, undulating gracefully. “I need you.”

  He positioned himself at her entrance, putting his hardness against her, then pushed as slowly as he could manage. She was like a tight, wet heaven, and every muscle in his body tensed and strained. He wanted nothing more than to plunge inside her, feeling that hot fist of flesh trembling and clutching at him, but he would do nothing to hurt her.

  She tempted him further, wrapping her arms around him, her short nails scratching delicately at his back, driving him wild. He moved with gentle relentlessness, withdrawing until he was almost fully out before pressing forward, like a wave, fully seating himself in her welcoming body.

  “Oh, Ben.” She gasped, as his tempo increased. She raised her hips, meeting every thrust eagerly. He found his rhythm starting to stutter as her breathing went ragged, her body squeezing him impossibly tight. He rolled against her, pulling her flush against him, pressing deeper. He reached down, feeling for her clit and stroking in slow, steady circles.

  She let out a low shriek of pleasure. “Ben!”

  He felt her climax envelop her, and her body clenched around him. He couldn’t stop himself from coming if there was a gun to his head, the orgasm ripping through him until his vision whited out. He jerked against her body as her legs wrapped around his waist, keeping him tight against her. After several quivering aftershocks, he rolled to the side, taking her with him, resting her against his chest. They both were out of breath, looking at each other in wonder.

  It was one of the most powerful sexual experiences he’d ever had, he realized. And he was supposed to walk away, somehow, when he’d just found her.

  He looked at her, unsure of what to say, of how to deal with the tsunami of emotions currently washing over him. And then she smiled, a sweet, tender, passionate smile.

  “Just one night,” she said, her breathing still uneven, “doesn’t mean just one time, right?”

  He grinned back. “Give me a few minutes,” he said. “And I’ll show you just how many times one night can mean.”

  12

  Ben woke the next morning with Jane in his arms, cuddled up to him, little spoon to his big spoon. He took a deep breath at the nape of her neck, taking in the seductive, floral scent of her. They’d barely gotten any sleep. He wasn’t kidding: if they only had one night together, he was damned sure he was going to make it worth his while. Now, he found himself wanting to draw out their time. He knew that the hotel would hardly hurry him out, so he got up, used the bathroom, then ordered a sumptuous breakfast, ushering it in as quietly as he could.

  Unfortunately, his efforts to be quiet didn’t really work. Jane sat up, clad only in the bedding, her hair in riotous curls. “What’s all this?” she said around a yawn, stretching and rubbing one of her eyes with a small fist.

  He grinned at her. “Thought you might be hungry,” he said, lifting the silver cover off of what turned out to be a batch of piping hot fresh croissants.

  “I did get a lot of exercise last night,” she said with a naughty smile that hit him right in the gut. He smiled back, wondering if they could perhaps stretch the deal to this morning, at least.

  He knew what she was saying: this was too important. Still, there was a terrible stab of loss at the thought of breaking off what they had.

  “Croissant?” he offered instead. She made grabby hands, which made him chuckle, shaking off his dark thoughts. He handed her a croissant and a napkin, amused when she broke off pieces to eat in bed, her back propped up against the headboard. He followed suit, taking a small bowl of yogurt and sitting next to her.

  She studied him, curious. “What were you like as a kid?”

  He blinked. That was not what he was expecting. Honestly, it was not something many people asked—not the infrequent women he dated, not even the press. His traitorous ex-girlfriend had known all about him, and he’d grown up under public scrutiny. “Why do you want to know?”

  It must have come out cautiously, because she smirked at him. “Completely off the record, Ben. I know that there’s lots of people who think they know you because of stupid royal watch magazines and whatnot, but if anybody knows how much a story can leave out, it’s a journalist. What are you really like?”

  He swallowed. It was an oddly vulnerable feeling, but also one that made him feel special. So few people wanted to look beyond the surface, the mien of royalty. They imposed a vision of Prince Charming on him, and he struggled against the stereotyping. But what could he tell her?

  “I don’t know where to start,” he admitted.

  “Tell me something embarrassing,” she said. “That’s one of the best ways to get to know someone.”

  “Is it?” He raised an eyebrow at her, but she looked serious. “All right. Don’t laugh, but I believed in Santa Claus for a long time. Like, until I was ten, I think.”

  Her eyes went round, and she snickered a little before obviously suppressing it. “Well, I guess when your parents are royalty, and you can get anything you want...”

  “That’s the funny thing,” he said. “They actually hinted that he wasn’t real before that, but I told them flat out that they were wrong. Because if there wasn’t a Santa Claus, they would’ve lied to me. Why in the world would they lie to me? Who would do that to a child? I was actually kind of horrified at the thought, which made it that much harder for them to actually get me to hear the truth.” He shook his head. “Nic and Erik teased me mercilessly, and I was furious with my parents for a good week when they finally came clean.”

  “Wow,” she said, finishing her croissant. “You, my friend, are hardcore.”

  “You have to admit,” he said, taking a spoonful of yogurt and fruit, “the Santa Claus thing is a weird situation. You’re essentially carrying on this fraud and then making it worse by adding all these details. The flying reindeer! The chimney breaking and entering! The cookies and milk!”

  “You have a point,” she replied, with obvious amusement. “And don’t even get me started on Elf on a Shelf. That thing’s creepy on a number of levels.”

  “Thank God I never had to deal with that,” he said, chuckling with her. “It’s like Christmas as a dystopia. Bad enough that Santa sees you when you’re sleeping, but now he’s also got a little henchman popping up throughout your house?”

  She let out a peal of laughter. “Oh my God, that’s terrible!”

  They laughed together, leaning on each other. It felt homey. It felt good.

  He didn’t want it to end.

  “So now you have to tell me something embarrassing about you, and your childhood,” he said, finishing his breakfast and putting the bowl down. He propped his head up on an arm, taking in her pretty, heart-shaped face.

  Her green eyes clouded. “Well, this isn’t funny, per se, but it is embarrassing,” she said. “When I was little, my mother used to call me Molly. I liked it, because it was something special, you know? My father never called me it. It was like her pet name for me. And we’d play games when she did.”

  He frowned, unsure how that was embarrassing.

  She sighed. “I found out later, when I went to the convalescent home where she’s staying, that when she was calling me Molly, she thought I was her friend from when she was a child. Her neighbor, Molly.” She sent him a lopsided, embarrassed smile. “The nickname I was so proud of? Was when she didn’t recognize me.”

  He swallowed. Then, before he could think about it, he reached over and tugged her into his arms, snuggling her tight.

  “Sorry,” she said. “That’s a bit of a bummer, isn’t it? Not a fun getting-to-know-you story.”

  “It’s the truth,” he replied. “Your truth. I care about the real you, everything about you. I’m not looking to be entertained. You don’t have to put up a front for me.”

  She sighed, nuzzling closer to his chest. “I very rarely talk about her,” she admitted. “But I feel like, especially given what you’re trying to do, you understand about family secrets, and the pain of the past, you know? And now that I’ve talked to you about it, it just feels safe. I feel like I’m just opening my mouth and stuff just...” She made a gesture with her hands from her mouth. “Tumbles out, whether I want it to or not.”

  “I’m glad you trust me enough to not filter,” he said, and he meant it. “That had to be hard.”

  “The hardest part, I think, is not really knowing my mother,” she said. “She left when I was young, so I never really got to know who she was before she was my mother, you know? When you’re an adult, you learn more about your parents’ pasts. My mother’s family is gone, and my father doesn’t speak about her at all. It’s like my mother is a fictional character, someone I barely remember, someone with a filmy, mysterious past. If I knew more about her, I think I’d feel better.”

  Yes, he could see that about her. She needed to know things—she needed the truth. He could relate. In fact, it was one of the things he admired most about her.

  “I even tried tracking down some of her friends,” she said.

  “Did she have old letters?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “No, but she was part of her alumni network,” she said. “Unfortunately, I never found her password, so I couldn’t figure out who she’d friended, and it’s not like I could go to every single person in her graduating class and ask if they knew her. I don’t even know what dormitories she stayed in, or if she had flatmates, or anything.”

  He stroked her hair. The not knowing was the worst, and considering she was one of the most tenacious, innovative reporters he knew, he could only imagine how frustrating it was for her, especially considering how personal it was.

  Then he blinked as the gears in his head clicked.

  “Alumni network,” he murmured. “Kate went to university with my father.”

  Jane pulled back, looking at him with surprise. “Would your father even be involved in the university’s network? Given his position, I mean?”

  “I get the feeling it would be the safest way for him to keep tabs on someone without revealing anything,” Ben said, with conviction. He should have thought of it before. “If nothing else, we can track the Kates who attended university at the same time, and see if we can find Katherine Barr. Lots of people add a ridiculous amount of personal information and details on social media. If nothing else, it can give us a clue as to where she is now, and what she’s doing.”

  Jane nodded. Then she bit her lip. “I guess we’d better get back,” she said with obvious reluctance.

  He stroked her cheek. “I don’t want to leave, either,” he said, in a low voice.

  She sighed, then leaned forward, kissing him softly. “This is too important to you to abandon,” she said. “And one night is more than I thought I’d get. It was worth it, and I’ll never forget it.”

  “Neither will I,” he said, wishing against all common sense that somehow, they could keep seeing each other. But she was right: it was too important for him to get to the bottom of this.

  “All right, then,” she said, getting up. “Let’s head back to the palace and see if we can do some digging.”

  13

  Because they hadn’t thought ahead when they’d decided to stay at the hotel, Ben called the palace and had them bring over a change of clothes so they didn’t have to walk back in last night’s finery, especially since eagle-eyed observers might put the pieces together. She knew they ought to hurry. His father was still resting, and his mother was in some sort of charity meeting for most of the day. It was the perfect time to do some digging.

  “I’m going to take a quick shower,” Ben said, winking at her, enough heat in his gaze to make her cheeks flush. “You’re welcome to join me.”

  She was sinfully tempted for a moment, then shook her head. “If I get in there with you, we’re never going to get back to the palace,” she said.

  He grinned. “Suit yourself.”

  She heard the water running and let out a deep breath. She thought about how they’d spent the morning talking as they ate breakfast. It was luxurious, utterly indulgent, and possibly the most intimate she’d ever been with anyone. She’d had boyfriends, certainly, but she realized now—after talking with Ben about the genetic test—that she’d never allowed herself to get close to someone before. On some level, she felt like she was a time bomb... one that could slip into dementia without warning at any time. One that could pass the damaging, heartbreaking gene on to her own children. Rather than dealing with it head-on, her subconscious had convinced her to bury herself in her work, pursuing her dream of being an investigative journalist, a dream that didn’t leave much time for love or relationships. And she’d genuinely believed that.

  She still wanted to be an investigative journalist—that hadn’t changed. But she knew that things had shifted since she started this adventure with Ben. She knew how much this meant to him, to find his half-sister. She knew better than anyone what it meant to have the whole world upended by the sudden revelation of a lie, and her heart was bruised with commiseration at his pain. As much as she wanted her career to accelerate, she realized that somewhere along the way, helping him feel better, mending his fractured past, and soothing him meant more to her than any promotion.

  She cared about him. More than she’d realized, and more quickly than she would’ve expected.

  He stepped out, wearing only a towel and some droplets of water, and she found herself staring.

  “Your turn,” he said, his eyes twinkling wickedly. “Offer for company still stands, though.” He started to drop his towel, and she fled into the bathroom, diving under the comforting spray of the shower.

  The problem was, it was all too soon, she thought as she lathered her hair. They’d barely been together, not as a couple but simply working together, for over a month. In that time, they’d gotten close. He knew things about her that she never shared with anyone, and he’d opened himself up to her. But did that mean they were ready for more? Was that worth throwing away her future as an investigative reporter?

  That hadn’t been the deal, and she had no sense that he wanted to pursue a relationship with her, even if they could somehow take the curse off of her being romantically involved with him even as he provided her with a career-making story. Ethically, her superiors would lose their minds, and that sort of thing would have a long memory... she’d be lucky if she could get a job at a coupon circular or the lowest of tabloids after that was revealed.

  They got dressed and headed downstairs, getting into the royal car and heading back to the palace.

  She wanted Ben so badly it made her head spin. But she also knew that, realistically, there was no way that they could work together, as much as that hurt.

  “All right,” Ben said, oblivious to her gloomy ruminations. “We’ll head for my father’s office. His assistant isn’t in, and my father should be resting. I’ll watch the door, make sure nobody comes in or gets suspicious. You look for a password or see if his computer has anything on the alumni network... he probably has his password saved, I’d think.”

  She nodded, resolute. They were here with a clear mission in mind. No matter how this turned out, she’d promised to help him, and by God, she would.

  Her heart pounded quickly in her chest as they walked down a huge hallway with vaulted ceilings until they reached a set of massive doors. He opened it, looking around, then quickly shut it behind them. The room itself wasn’t too officious, thankfully. It was more like a sitting room, with an ornate antique sofa, some large chairs. There was a small conference table, suggesting he held informal meetings there. And there was a large, heavy wood desk. The computer sat on the surface, which was littered with correspondence and paperwork. The king was apparently a fan of clutter.

  She nudged the mouse, and the screen leaped to life. Thankfully, it didn’t require a password... something he really should know better than to leave open, she thought. But then, what was the likelihood that someone nefarious would break into the palace, and the king’s private office? She knew too many overconfident people who had been taken down by the irritation and impatience of putting in a strong password. Now, she just had to hope that he had the alumni network.