by Robyn Thomas
The original Ken pointed down the hall, his impassive expression at odds with his chivalrous behavior. “Perhaps you’d care to take a seat, Miss Carlisle?”
“Beth,” she corrected through clenched teeth, although she did lead them into her sitting room. She perched on the edge of the couch and Jake settled beside her. The Kens remained standing and an expectant silence fell.
“I assume there’s going to be some kind of information exchange.” She gestured between them and Jake. “So why don’t you go ahead and pretend I’m not here?”
The silent all-seeing glances were exchanged once again, but this time she tried not to take offense. The twin behemoths had a job to do, and the fact that they deferred to Jake was actually quite comforting.
“Christophe’s out front,” one Ken said with a measure of dread that surprised her.
Ken Two looked concerned as well. “He gave us two minutes for a security sweep.”
“Liam, Riley, Sam, and Jessie are here too.”
She’d already switched her focus to Ken Two for the next piece of information when the words registered. “They’re here? Holy shit.”
Jake’s hand on her bare knee silenced her as the other members of Five Awesome Emperors came into her sitting room.
Googling Jake had given her a look at all of them, but their thundercloud expressions were new. Accusation pressurized the room, making her feel as if every detail of last night’s seduction was being dissected. Her gaze flew to Jake, trying to ascertain what he was thinking and if he’d side with them by default.
The apology in his eyes was almost her undoing, but when he didn’t speak she knew it was up to her to make the first move.
Hoping to convey solidarity, she twined her fingers with his atop her knee, and attempted a smile for his friends.
“This is her? The one who won the bridal lottery?” Riley snorted. “We held grave fears for you, but it looks like they were unfounded.”
Grave fears? Were they always so melodramatic?
“What’s going on, Jake?” Liam asked. “Why were you already in Australia when the news hit?”
“You must’ve known we’d go ballistic over engagement news,”
Jessie said. “I wanted to believe it was just a prank or a publicity stunt, but you’re living the lie. Five Awesome Single Emperors. Have you forgotten our pact?”
Sam’s expression softened as if in apology. “No offense, Bethany, but Jake’s not available. His first loyalty is to the band, and we’ve come to take him home.”
Jake leaned close. “You have Brad in your corner, I have the band in mine.”
“What are you whispering about?” Jessie asked. “It’s just the one article, right? A complete fabrication that can be denied, and then we’ll sign a few autographs for Bethany’s friends, pay her off, and head back to London.”
“It isn’t that simple.”
Riley gave a hollow laugh. “Add a couple of zeroes to whatever figure is on the check.”
“The story has escalated. Wait till you see the pics from yesterday. Beth and I took a tour of the city in a beat-up van that I drove. We met up with some Aussie Rules football players, made some deliveries, confirmed our engagement, and polished up our haloes. It was a good day.”
“You left the house?” Sam looked between her and Jake with a puzzled look. “So what’s the deal?”
Jake nudged her shoulder and spoke in an undertone. “You might want to take this one.”
She searched for something innocuous to say. “I guess this is the end of act 1. If anyone has a script for act 2 I’d love to see it, because I’m sure I’m entitled to a costume change, and I’m hoping I’ll be written out early. A comfy seat in the audience is more my style.”
Chapter Eight
Liam was the first to react. His face broke into a wide smile as he swiped the trademark hat off his head and clutched it to his chest.
“There’s no script. It’s all improv—but you’ll be grand. Jake might even enjoy this debacle.”
Surprise and relief turned her bones to mush, but the happy— fest was fleeting. A wiry little man with theatrical flair and beady, disapproving eyes pushed his way into the room.
“Christophe.”
Jake’s curt tone added credence to the chill of dread that swept over her as she assessed the newcomer. Christophe’s wide-legged pants and matching navy-blue tunic with heavy gold embroidery made her feel insipid by comparison. Her white satin nightgown and soft yellow wrap were classic items that contrasted well with her dark hair, but under Christophe’s intense scrutiny she wished she’d chosen something more flamboyant. Like a polka-dot clown suit and stage makeup applied with a trowel.
“Yes.” He spoke with great enthusiasm, his arms wide, palms raised as if he were conducting an orchestra only he could see.
Beth’s lips twitched as Liam mirrored Christophe’s movements.
“Take yourself to another room, Liam,” Christophe said as if he had eyes in the back of his head. “This is a discussion for grown-ups. Off you go now.”
Liam winked at her before sauntering out of the room at his leisure. Everyone followed him, even the Kens.
Once they were alone, Christophe switched his attention to Jake. “You’re very fortunate to have such an attractive interloper.”
Interloper? Wow, that was a word she’d never expected to be labeled with.
“The potential’s there, but much work remains to be done.”
What was that supposed to mean?
Jake appeared to understand Christophe perfectly, because he was on his feet arguing on her behalf before she’d even determined what the problem was. If she had to guess, and it seemed she did, she’d say Christophe was a stylist.
“You won’t be working with Beth, Christophe. Do your job without her or get out.”
“You misunderstand.”
“I doubt that,” Jake said in a tone she’d never heard from him before. “I want to skip right over the bridal lottery and the reasons behind it, and concentrate on the best way to get Beth’s life back to normal. Come up with some urgent studio dates or talk show appearances and I’ll fly out for them while Beth stays here. We’ll play the role of lovers tortured by distance for a while until the miles between us take their toll. You know the drill, but do whatever you can to keep the media’s attention on me.”
Beth was glad she was sitting down. Here was the cynical rock star she would’ve expected had she known ahead of time just who was coming to stay with her. But then he reached out for her hand and instantly he was the man she’d come to know. Clearly there was more to Jake than she’d seen so far, but his ability to reassure her at exactly the right moment said a lot for him.
Christophe spread his hands in a beseeching fashion. “May I?”
Terrified of what he was about to say, she felt herself nodding, albeit reluctantly. Presumably the weedy little fellow was good at his job, whatever that might be. If he had a suggestion the least she could do was hear him out.
“You’ve devised a bridal lottery and declared yourself the winner.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“I created it,” Jake said.
Christophe continued to speak, paying them no mind at all.
“Bethany, you have all the members of Five Awesome Emperors living under your roof.” She nodded once, her brows pulling down as she tried to grasp what he was saying. “Maybe you’re planning a redraw? Maybe you’re playing them against one another?”
Her jaw dropped even as Christophe’s hands shot up in front of his face as if he thought Jake would take a swing at him.
“Relax Jake, easy boy.”
Jake took his seat beside her again and wrapped an arm around her. His cold gaze fixed on Christophe, who appeared to be enjoying himself now that the threat had dissipated.
“What do you want, Christophe?”
“The situation is open to a certain level of interpretation that you may wish to avoid. An exclusive interview.�
�
“No,” Jake cut in. The warning in his tone was clear, but Christophe refused to be silenced.
“One strategic interview with the two of you looking wholesome, yet lovestruck.” His beady eyes lingered on their linked hands and his lips curled into a smile. “Much as you are now. Something tasteful and brief that’ll disperse the crowd at your gates.” His eyes slid to her ring and he made a tut-tut sound.
“We’ll have to get you a decent ring.”
She was on her feet almost before the insult was out of his mouth. “I’ll do one interview if it’ll make you happy. But there’s no way I’m changing my ring.”
The silence following her outburst was deafening. Jake’smouth was set in a grim line but Christophe beamed, cl early pleased with the outcome.
“You sort it out,” she said to Jake, certain she’d only dig herself a deeper hole if she tried to argue with Christophe. Jake was more uptight than she’d seen him in the few days they had spent together. Obviously, he and Christophe had a problematic relationship. No doubt she’d put him in a difficult position by reacting to Christophe’s taunt about her ring, but this wasn’t exactly a picnic for her either.
“You don’t have to do this, Beth,” Jake murmured for her ears only.
“Will it get rid of the reporters? Most of them?”
His nod was reluctant, but she could tell he was just trying to save her from the dubious joy of more publicity.
“Before I go getting any more famous, I’m going to need to
freshen up.” Despite their avid one-person audience, she reached up to cup Jake’s clenched jaw. “I’ll be in the bathroom if we need to go over our battle plan.”
…
An overwhelming sense of déjà vu crashed over Jake. It was probably good Beth hadn’t shucked her clothes on the way out the door today, but this was the exact point where yesterday had slipped beyond his control.
“No interview,” he told Christophe. “Being proactive could be dangerous in this instance. Let’s see what the press comes up with before we attempt to counter it.”
The other man’s arrogance fell away. “Where are you going?”
Beth’s bathroom. Ignoring his still-damp hair, Jake hiked one shoulder up. “To grab a shower.”
Knocking softly on the next door over was easy; waiting for a response was torture. “Beth?”
The door opened wide and she dragged him inside by his shirtfront before shutting the door with a decisive click. “You’ll get me into trouble,” she said before flinging her arms around him and holding tight. “You need to go.” She began to push him away, then thought better of it. “Oh, unless no one saw you? If they didn’t then you should definitely stay for a bit.”
A rush of tenderness engulfed him as her words fell all over themselves. Her heart pounded in a restless rhythm that matched his as he pulled her closer. “Ken was in the hall, but I didn’t pay him any attention. I’m not ready to be one of a dozen houseguests.”
“You’re not a guest at all.” She eased out of his arms and grinned as she brandished a newspaper. “I found this on the vanity and according to the article about us, you live here.”
He glanced around at the purely feminine space with candy-striped wallpaper and an old-fashioned rose-pink bathtub. “My digs are quite feminine. I’ll have to redecorate and make the place more…manly.”
Her laughter warmed him from the inside out. “Real men aren’t intimidated by splashes of pink and tactile furnishings. My fiancé has coped rather well with touchable fabrics and alternate beds the past few days. I wonder if he’ll change, now that other people are watching?”
Crazy feelings of jealousy and possessiveness clawed through him, and the temptation to march her back to their sitting room, banish Christophe, and barricade the door was difficult to resist.
Hell, how was he going to get by without touching her at every opportunity? Her hand seemed to be forever in his and he liked it that way.
“Liam and the others will pounce on every tiny intimacy. Every look, every touch will be a source of ridicule and speculation. Your fiancé knows better than to fuel it.”
Ignoring him, she bent to put the plug in the bath and turned both taps on. She produced a spindly pink stool from beneath the open vanity unit and gestured for him to sit on it. He eyed the hot pink fuzz skeptically but sat without complaint. The sideways look she sent him all but dared him to comment as she removed her wrap. He remained silent, resting his elbows on his knees in an effort to appear at ease. She was deliberately winding him up, and it was working. His curiosity raged out of control.
She extended one leg toward him and wiggled her foot.
“Heels,” she told him with a grin. “All day yesterday.”
So saying, she tossed a liberal amount of fragrant powder into the bath, took a seat on the wide tiled ledge at the end of the bath, and sent him a patronizing glance. “Taps off. Button on.” She pointed to the spa control.
Her big old dinosaur of a bath was a spa? How cool was that?
“Must I do everything myself?” she asked when he didn’t obey immediately.
Assisting her was a pleasure. In every sense. The novelty of being at Beth’s command, albeit just for fun, was something he’d expected would vanish once she got a taste of his world. Boosting her through her kitchen window, shifting furniture, and stocking her coolroom with neatly labeled containers of food had been a great introduction, but she was still treating him like a man who ought to watch his step around someone as fine as she was.
And he adored her for it.
His own feet were already bare, so joining her on the ledge felt as natural as breathing. The calming aroma of mint and something vaguely citrusy appealed to him. Settling beside her, he sank his feet into the steamy water, then yanked them back out again. “Damn, that’s hot!”
“Hot water?” she asked drily. “Imagine being unexpectedly plunged into that.”
He watched her closely. “Want me to cool it down?”
Her slight smirk told him they were no longer discussing the bath, if indeed they ever had been. “Or we could just wait for it to stop steaming on its own.” Her head tipped to one side as if to say “couldn’t we?” And he felt his chest constrict, wishing it was that simple. “This is new to me. What usually happens?”
He cleared his throat and considered distracting her instead.
Adjusting the water temperature gave him a brief respite, but Beth waited for an answer. He sat beside her, crowding her because she’d strayed into territory he didn’t want to discuss.
She bumped his shoulder with hers. “What usually happens, Jake?”
Taking her hand in his, he settled it on his outer thigh and trapped it there. Documenting the downside of his life was uncomfortable, but these bonus moments of pseudo-intimacy with Beth made up for it.
“If there’s an article or report linking a woman to me without her having made a conscious grab for celebrity, then money inevitably changes hands. It’s usually backed up by public tears, and occasionally there are hastily drafted legal papers prohibiting future contact.” He shrugged. “Some women feel guilty about asking for hush money when they don’t have a story to share. The paperwork seems to legitimize it for them.”
“You pay to keep a lid on things that never happened?”
“Sure. Aside from public appearances, concerts, and new albums, there’s never anything to report, yet the media love to weave stories out of nothing.” One of her eyebrows quirked and he ran his hand over hers, sliding his fingers between hers just because he could. “It could be anything. I’m in the same city as another entertainer—we’re having a hot affair. I’m staying at a particular hotel—it’s rumored there are runway models in the suite next door. I write a song about Florence and I’m the toast of Italy, until a photographer catches a photo of an autograph I’ve signed for a single mother in Baltimore. Her name’s Florence and next thing you know her kid’s photo is printed alongside mine and the world�
�s looking for similarities in our bone structure.”
“How awful.”
He squeezed her hand, but took care to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “It’s a constant battle to keep the public vibe favorable. That’s why Christophe’s annoyed that he wasn’t brought in earlier on this engagement story.” He frowned as he considered that. “You could make money from our situation. Why haven’t you threatened to sell the story?”
The flush that colored her face caught him by surprise. “I don’t know what the deal is with you and Skyla, but you’ve gone to a lot of effort to ensure she’s not making a mistake by marrying Brad.
Your solution wouldn’t have been my first choice, but we’re on the same side so I’m not about to ruin it for you.” She laughed and jiggled her hand within his grip. “Organizing their wedding under seige conditions is bound to throw up some interesting challenges, but I’ll manage somehow.”
“Skyla and I—”
“I don’t want to know! Truly,” she said in a softer tone.
“Skyla’s about to be my unofficial sister-in-law, so ignorance about her history with you will be bliss. Just keep what you know to yourself.”
“She’s my sister.” The admission made him feel exposed, but he hadn’t told the complete truth. “Half-sister. She doesn’t know, and I don’t think my mother does either.”
Beth’s sharp intake of breath felt like a dagger in his side. “So you’re family?” A host of emotions played across her face as she tried to come to terms with it. “I know some things that aren’t mine to tell, but I can promise you she’ll be thrilled to discover she has a brother. Why don’t you stop pretending?”
“It can’t be public knowledge. My parents have a volatile marriage as it is, and confirmation of an affair my father had twenty-six years ago might be the final straw. He’s not a nice man, not someone Skyla should ever associate with.” He grinned. “She’s a bit of a princess. Being her employer allows me to observe her life from a distance without any risk.” His heart crept onto his sleeve. “But I want more.”
Her soft snort said it all. “Me too.” She hesitated, her internal struggle evident in her tightly held body. “You should know that pretending to be engaged to you is really working for me.
