Famously Engaged (13 page)

The emotion clawing at his throat made him fear for his vocal cords. Would Beth regret this or was the timing such that she needed one of her parents in lieu of the other?

Her hand dropped from his chest and she held her glass up in invitation. “Cheers?”

They could do better than that, surely? “To taking the long road and admiring the view along the way.”

Her smile warmed him far more than the heated liquid possibly could. “My view includes a rock god with a waxed chest and a giant lizard tattoo on his shoulder. I love this view. To the long road.” She clinked her glass against his and took a cautious sip, letting the cognac sit on her tongue for long moments before she swallowed. Clearly he should’ve done the same, because his throat stung from downing his drink in one go.

Beth’s expression mirrored her words. “Wow. Now I know why he chose this.” She reached beneath one end of the glamorous wrap that skimmed her shoulders and he laughed when he saw that she’d taped a chocolate bar to it. “What?” she asked, the picture of innocence. “Cognac’s supposed to go well with dark chocolate. Wanna help me test the theory?”

She made it hard. Offering him chocolate warmed by her skin while she slid her wrap aside to reveal perfect breasts straining against one thin layer of shiny fabric. Her legs were bare, the splits in her long nightgown doing a fabulous job of making her appear naked from the waist down. How the hell was he supposed to concentrate on what she was saying with all of that going on?

“Ready?”

He shook his thoughts off then did a double take. She’d snapped off three squares of chocolate and if he kissed her, nibbled against her lips—
shared
—he could have some. A fatalistic groan started low in his gut and worked its way up. This was the road to hell, and his good intentions weren’t worth a damn.

The fiery liquid he’d tipped down his throat wasn’t enough to intoxicate him, but later he could list it as a contributing factor.

Beth’s head tilted to one side. He watched with a strange sense of awe as she had some sort of epiphany and then nodded. Before he could speak she’d removed the chocolate from between her lips, swirled her cognac, inhaled deeply, and drunk the rest of it.

She pressed the empty glass into his hand and grinned as she ate the chocolate. “There’s a missed opportunity,” she said with mock sympathy. “You’ll have to be quicker than that.”

The heat of her lips had melted the chocolate, and a sense of inevitability descended over him as he tried not to cave in to temptation. “We should talk about your father. This is—”

“My choice.”

She kissed him with incredibly soft chocolate-flavored lips, blending the flavor with rich cognac as she licked into his mouth.

Rational thought took a hike, because she’d made her choice and he supported it one hundred percent.

…

Beth awoke on a quilt by the fire, loud static and garbled voices disturbing the best sleep she’d had all year. Bleary-eyed, she took in the disheveled state of her sitting room and smiled as her memory filled in the blanks. Jake wouldn’t be far away, but dealing with his security personnel was down to her for the moment.

She picked up the radio and pressed the talk button. “Hello?”

The answer she got was patchy but she got the gist of it. “Fired. Leaving now. English bastards.”

Grinning at the man’s affronted tone, she thanked him and scrambled to her feet, locating her nightie and wrap and putting them on. Jake’s entourage had arrived from London and she was in a room that screamed late-night rendezvous. Groaning at the sound of the doorbell rung twice in quick succession, she gathered everything she could carry and flung it into her bedroom. Jake was showering with the bathroom door wide open so she took a peek before pulling the door shut and smoothing her hands down over her nightgown. Maybe she should change?

Insistent buzzing ruled out that option. She hurried forward and opened the door.

“Hi,” she said with the brightest smile she could muster.

“Step away from the door!” 

Huh? Startled into submission she took a step back.

“To your left, Bethany.”

“Use the door as cover.”

Confused by multiple orders spoken at once she leapt to the side, her back pressed against the wall as the two hard-nosed behemoths stepped into her home.

“Opening the door without checking was mistake number one,” the first man said.

“Wearing your nightdress, mistake number two.”

She put up her hand to make them stop, preferring to skip the lecture on security ettiquette since this situation was a one-off. In her bare feet she felt just about on a level with their navels, but she suppressed the vague shudder of unease that made her back twitch, and gestured toward the back of her house. “If you’d like to come through to the kitchen, Jake will meet us there in a minute or two.”

They ignored her, their impassive stares probing every detail of her home in a way that made her want to cover things up. She’d have to have a word to Jake about choosing staff with a modicum of compassion. The forbidding looks on their near-identical faces made them look like clones, and bad ones at that.

Where were their manners? She held her hand out to the first man. “If you’re going to stay here you should call me Beth.”

“Miss Carlisle,” he replied, shaking her hand as if he was reluctant to touch it. The other man followed suit, also calling her Miss Carlisle, and she had the uncomfortable realization that they were here solely for Jake.

Jake came up behind her, his fingers kneading the taut muscles of her nape in a soothing rhythm. It should’ve been

comforting but under the watchful eyes of his guards it made her feel awkward. Almost lewd, which was just plain ridiculous. She really was getting paranoid if she thought they’d bother judging her. She was nothing to them. Less than nothing.

Summoning another smile, she shrugged her uneasiness aside and tried once again to welcome them. What they thought of her wasn’t important, but as guests in her home she expected them to at least be courteous. “If you’ll just tell me your names?”

They spoke over each other once again. “Ken,” the first one said, and she could’ve sworn the second one said that too. Surely not?

“Ah, right.” It didn’t matter anyway. She didn’t see herself having much cause to engage them in conversation. “Follow me and I’ll organize you a room each.”

“No need,” the first Ken assured her.

“We’ll assess the available space and work out sleeping arrangements,” Ken Two added.

“We have quite a large party.”

Gritting her teeth was unavoidable because they’d slipped into that patronizing one-line-each speech pattern again. “Fine. But you might have a problem if everything’s pink and white in one of the rooms you choose.”

For a moment one of them looked set to smile but in the next instant they’d both shifted their attention to Jake, and she felt as if she’d been summarily dismissed.

By strangers in her own home?

The Kens loomed over her, their mass seeming like sevensquare feet of solid brawn. Jake was behind her, out of sight, but the feel of his body was imprinted on hers. Hard. Muscular. And tall. So much taller than she was.

The Ken Clones appeared to equate height with significance, and at five foot one, she didn’t even register on their scale.

Refusing to slink off like an unwelcome guest, she raised her chin and voiced the first thought that entered her head. “How long will we need to stay indoors?”

She didn’t know what to think when both of the Kens looked to Jake for some sort of go-ahead before answering. Jake’s hand gave her shoulder an encouraging squeeze and whatever silent communication passed between him and his bodyguards at the same time, it seemed to work in her favor.

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.”

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.