Free His Royal Princess: A Billionaire Boys Club Novella by Jessica Clare

gazed at Alex from across the expansive breakfast table, and the elderly woman casually turned a page in the paper.
    The bite of toast Alex had just taken stuck to the roof of her mouth. Marry? Roderick? She swallowed hard and then drank a sip of hot tea. “I . . . I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about marriage.”
    Her grandmother folded up the paper in front of her and, to Alex’s surprise, tossed it in her direction. “Then are you telling me that this is a fling?”
    Alex picked up the paper with trembling hands. A cat meowed and pushed at her hand, but she ignored it. The paper was the Bellissime national one, and Alex was on the front page, kissing Luke on the bridge in France. THE PRINCESS’S HOLLYWOOD LOVER the headline read boldly. Below that, it went on in a smaller headline. SCANDAL AT THE ROYAL PALACE? OR SANCTIONED BY THE QUEEN?
    Alex swallowed again, feeling very much like a child. “I . . .”
    “You didn’t ask permission to go out on a date.” The queen’s tone was withering. “You know the rules, Alexandra. We are the voice of the people of Bellissime. We represent them in our every action and word. What message do you think this sends?”
    That Luke Houston really is irresistible? That I’m human and fell for a hot guy?
“I’m sorry—”
    “Don’t be sorry,” the queen snapped. “Just tell me what response you wish for the palace to make. Is this a fling like one of your mother’s tawdry Monaco affairs that I pretend not to see?”
    Alex’s eyes widened. She knew?
    The elder woman waved a bejeweled hand. “I’m not foolish, Alexandra. And I know your mother has been unhappy for a long time. As long as she is discreet and not in line for the throne, no one cares. But you are my heir.” Her eagle-eyed gaze focused on Alex. “So?”
    She stared at the picture. It was grainy, but there was no doubt it was her on the bridge, her hair flying around her head. Goodness, she looked so improper and utterly . . .
happy
in that picture. Normally she was posed perfectly for the photographers, having practiced for years the right way to hold her hands, tilt her head, how much teeth to show. This was natural and it was . . . wonderful. She wanted more. “It’s not a fling,” she said in a quiet voice. “I really like him. I want to go out with him again.”
    “Then the palace will issue a statement accordingly.” Grandmama folded her napkin on her lap and picked up her teacup. “The princess is dating an American and wishes her privacy at this time.”
    Alex was utterly shocked. “You . . . support it? Truly?”
    The queen’s lined face softened. “Alexandra, my dear. You are my heir. More than that, you are my granddaughter. I love you and your mother very much, and I know all too well how your mother endured an unhappy marriage for the sake of the crown. I regret it fiercely, even if it did bring you into this world. And if I can spare you the misery she had, then I will.”
    “Thank you.” Alex wanted to get up and hug her grandmother, but they weren’t the hugging type. She settled for beaming at her from across the table. “Thank you for understanding.”
    The queen simply winked at her.
    ***
    Across town, Luke was staring at the newspaper with a look of horror on his face. The headline was screamingly bold: THE PRINCESS’S HOLLYWOOD LOVER. The picture was of them on the bridge, Alex’s face pressed to his, her hair flying. He’d sworn up and down to her that they wouldn’t be recognized. That they’d be left alone.
    He’d been wrong, and he felt like an ass for compromising her privacy.
    His publicist, however, was thrilled.
    “My god, Luke. You don’t do things halfway, do you?” Beckee tittered into the phone. “Can we make a statement? Please? Pretty please?”
    “No statement,” Luke said, tossing aside the paper. He rubbed a hand down his face, frustrated. “I want it all to go away.”
    “Are you kidding me?” Beckee’s screech was