Royally Fake Fiancé by Lee Savino

Author:Lee Savino [Savino, Lee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lee Savino

Benedict

* * *

My fiancée is trying to drive me mad. It’s the only explanation for her behavior. In public, we flirt and cling to each other like the lovers we’re pretending to be. In private, she keeps me coolly at arm’s length. No more trysts in the limo. No more sparring while we waltz. She’s entirely buttoned up, playing the role of my fiancée with not a hint of the clever, clumsy Frankie.

Daniel is in raptures over how well things are going. The officials we’ve met are charmed by Frankie, or won over by Lady Ursaline’s opinion. Even the press are coming around.

I hate it. I want the old Frankie back. And I will do anything to get her.

The night of our first ball, I find myself back in Lady Drey’s home. Frankie is upstairs dressing while I wait at the bottom of the stairs.

Daniel finds me there, pacing. “Trouble in paradise?”

“No. No trouble. Are they almost done?”

“Can’t rush perfection,” Daniel says lightly.

“I beg your pardon.” I brush at my forehead. “It’s been a long week.”

“You and Frankie have done well. The press is satisfied. The public loves her.”

I snort. “They adore her. She’s way more popular than I am.”

“Your tendency to speak only about fiscal policy is off putting. Frankie is charming. And her idea about summertime movies and concerts in the park would be very popular with the people.”

“As long as it’s not Shakespeare,” I mutter, and check the time. “Should we fetch her? The ball is starting.”

“A lady is never late,” Daniel says. “But neither is she early, if she wishes to be fashionable.”

My lip curls. “And I care so much for fashion.”

“You should.” Daniel jerks his chin upwards. “When that is the result.”

Frankie’s standing at the top of the stairs. Her hair is down and her shoulders are bare, but her arms are covered by long white gloves. Pure sin, those gloves. I’d get her in private, remove everything but the gloves, and have her stroke me…

I clench my fists, willing my body back under control. “Purple,” I murmur.

“The color of royalty,” Daniel murmurs back.

Frankie descends with regal slowness and glides across the floor, wearing a little Mona Lisa smile.

When she reaches us, she spreads her skirts in a slow curtsey. Automatically, Daniel and I bow.

“Your Grace.” She sways towards me. Even her voice is throaty, dreamy.

“Miss Beaumonde.” I offer my arm. “Shall we?”

I can’t take my eyes off her. Not in the car, not when we arrive. And Frankie pretends to ignore me the whole time.

“Nervous?” I ask as we walk the press gauntlet together, and join the line to enter the residence.

“Not at all. Should I be?”

“I suppose you’re old hat at these sorts of events. Especially after the Carrot Competition.”

“Pageant. And that’s fighting dirty, darling.” She looks impressed. “You’ve been studying Daniel’s notes about me.”

“I need all the ammunition I can get.”

“Are we fighting, Your Grace?”

“It feels like it.” A few reporters are shouting at both of us. I put my arm around Frankie, shielding her from the fray.

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