Page 1 of Fake Dating Mr. Prince
CHAPTER ONE
Dean
Ifought the urge torip my clothes off.
The matchmaking mothers in the room would disapprove, but I doubted their daughters would complain. Social events, like our masquerade ball, were always the same—every mother of an eligible daughter constantly tries to pin me down, ask me to dance, or reassure me that their daughter is the perfect fit.
I was a running back on the football field of wedding dreams. First, I shifted left to avoid the desperate expression attached to a hand reaching out to stop me. I gave the buxom blonde a smile and a wink as I pretended to connect with an associate in the distance. Spin to the right to dodge the slim brunette who stepped in for a sneak attack, dragging not one but two young ladies in their finest sparkly, body-hugging gowns to trap me from both sides.
The Patriots best running back had nothing on me. He didn’t have to do this in ruffles.
“Dean, please join your mother and I on stage,” my father’s voice boomed through the speakers set throughout the hotel ballroom.
The light of the crystal chandeliers lit up the expansive room with a warm glow, complementing the gold accents on the cream-colored walls. The room’s elegant decor was the perfect backdrop to our annual ball, and my parents held court on the stage near the back of the room.
Even though I was thirty-two and could choose my own costume, Mom insisted we attend as 17th-century monarchs. When I’d complained about my outfit, she’d given me an amused smile and reminded me I’d missed my last fitting, and the final decision had been left up to her.
I held back my groan of relief and gave a quickso sorryto another hopeful mother/daughter duo and strode across the room. Not that I minded ladies trying to get my attention. But they were all hoping to get me to settle down, and I wasn’t looking for a relationship.
I had no interest in becoming tied down to one person. Our family business, Prince Industries, was my sole focus. One day soon, I would be at its helm.
I weaved between high-top tables and dodged more would-be brides, smiling at the few women who caught my eye. The large bar set off to the side of the room—my original destination before I’d been distracted—would have to wait. Again. Duty called, and I was well aware of the expectations laid out before me. Hell, I’d put most of those expectations in place myself.
People parted to let me pass while I moved through the crowd. Our events were always well attended, although tonight it seemed as if the entire state of Rhode Island was here.
I stepped to the side and bumped into the person next to me. Ingrained manners had me laying a hand on her arm to steady her. Our eyes met, and electricity sparked between us. Mesmerized by her blue gaze peeking through the elaborate peacock mask shielding the rest of her face, I dropped my hand in surprise at the instant attraction that surged through me.
“Excuse me,” she whispered then quickly dragged her attention away. There was no hint of recognition, none of the usual fanfare that occurred when I met a woman.
Was I losing my touch? What was wrong with me?
Shocked at my response, my gaze trailed her departure through the ballroom and out the door. My father calling my name yet again broke the strange hold she had on me.
Reaching the stage, I took the steps two at a time to join my parents. I glanced at Dad, dressed as the king of the evening, larger than life. His crown sat askew on top of his closely cropped head of salt and pepper hair. His royal blue robe gaped open to show his shirt beneath, which did not have the ruffles I silently cursed.
“Here he is.” Dad’s large hand pounded against my back as I drew near.
He then wrapped an arm around my shoulder. I leaned in and threw my arm around his back. My father was known as a cut-throat businessman to most of the world, as I well knew working for him, but at home he was all about his family. Not that I’d admit it out loud to most people, but he was a marshmallow of a man when it came to my mother and me.
“Welcome to our annual Masquerade Ball. When we started, it was our chance to help families here in Rhode Island and to pay tribute to the youngest members of our family not here with us today.” Dad’s voice choked with emotion.
No matter how much time had passed since the miscarriages my parents had endured, they still carried the pain of that loss with them.
He cleared his throat and gave a small smile to the crowd.
“My family, my son Dean, myself, and my wife Bethany are so grateful for your continued support.” He drew Mom close and kissed the top of her head before he passed her the microphone.
My mother’s hair—the same jet black as mine, threaded with the smallest amount of silver—was in an elaborate hairstyle that curled around her crown. She looked every inch the queen I knew her to be. While more subdued than my father, her quiet elegance made people sit up and take notice.
Never leaving my father’s side, she stood a little straighter. Her fingers curled around the handle of the microphone, and she smiled before addressing our guests. “Tonight is a special night. Project Little Ones is near and dear to our family. The money raised will support families with infants in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit and those who have experienced pregnancy and infant loss. Our family is eternally grateful for the assistance they offered us.”
Mom reached up with her free hand and gently ran her fingers over her necklace. Each charm represented one of the four babies, the brothers and sister of mine we’d lost. She never took it off. “I know our children who were not able to join us in this world are always watching over us.”
I straightened the arm slung around my dad, so my hand could rub the back of Mom’s shoulder. She and my father had always been open with me about their losses. I knew it still affected both of them deeply. I hated to see the pain in Mom’s eyes over not being able to have any more kids.
“Project Little Ones helps families as they grieve or figure out how to care for their baby in the NICU. This is our chance as a community to give back and assist those that need it during a very challenging time.”
Mom paused for a moment and wiped the tears from her eyes. The crowd stayed silent, honoring our family’s loss.
