Authors: Robyn Thomas
Did she have to spell it out?
“It means that I live a fairly standard life in suburban Melbourne while you jet around the world from one concert arena to the next. I enjoy a roller coaster as much as the next person, but if this is the last stop before the Jake-Olsen-ride-of-fame regains its customary and terrifying momentum, then I need to get off.
“Being sucked into a perpetual vortex is not what I signed up for, and if I stand next to you for too much longer, I’m afraid I’ll get trapped.”
“You won’t.”
“I worry about you, too. Having a fake fiancée is brilliant in theory, but I wonder if you appreciate the danger?”
He snorted. “This ought to be good.”
“I know how to be with someone—out of the public eye.” His hand covered his mouth as if to hide a smirk and her frustration grew. “I’ve been engaged before and I know how it works. But the fame thing is beyond me. The
danger
exists when I’m shoved in front of the cameras and expected to glow like Prince Charming’s equal, speak knowledgeably about foreign topics, and display the kind of diplomacy my upbringing didn’t instill in me.
“Don’t,” she said when he was about to interrupt. “I’m not looking for a pat on the head. I know I should’ve let you speakinstead of taking Leanna’s bait, but she knew which buttons to press. Christophe could’ve cheerfully strangled me, but I have no idea how bad the fallout will be.”
“There won’t be any fallout. You did a great job on the diplomacy front and you looked amazing.” He paused and something she couldn’t identify flared in his eyes. “You coulddo it again. Catch a plane to wherever I am, make a public appearance, stay for a few days, and return home when you were ready. If we were careful, you could visit the places you want to see without jeopardizing your quiet life here.We could end it at your discretion.”
She gestured at her couture dress. “This look is a one-off. I don’t like people watching me. I hate them knowing what I’m up to, how much I weigh, or what lessons my parents taught me before they passed away. You’ve got the art of living in a fishbowl down to a tee, but that sort of life isn’t for me.”
“It’s not
for
anybody. You get used to it.”
A shudder of distaste arrowed through her, but Jake soothed it by slipping his hand beneath the hem of her dress to caress her lower leg. With his callused hand gently massaging her calf muscles, it was almost impossible to concentrate, but she forced her thoughts into words.
“I don’t want to get used to being under constant surveillance. I can’t imagine what it must be like to know that someone’s always looking at you. Spying on you. Listening in.”
She stifled a moan of pleasure when his thumb dipped into the sensitive hollow behind her knee. What he was doing felt incredible, but she couldn’t afford to get sidetracked. “If I was talented I might feel differently. I might be like you and think it was worth the sacrifice.”
“But you can’t see yourself living that way for me?” Jake withdrew his hands from beneath her skirt and patted it back into place with a chilling finality.
Bolting out the door would’ve been her best option, but she found herself arguing instead. “What do you expect, Jake? You came here late at night, spun your tale about Cinderella and Prince Charming, and told me I was starring in it.” She pressed her fingers hard against the bridge of her nose. “I thought the interview was supposed to make the reporters go away so we could go back to our normal lives. But you don’t seem in any hurry to leave, and I know it’ll look bad if your lottery bride gets cold feet, but I’m not obligated to live under martial-law conditions in my own home.”
“You’re overreacting.”
“Am I?
You know, I think Christophe forgot to hand me that particular script. Tell me Jake, how do your instant fiancées usually handle the spotlight?”
“I’ve never been engaged before, Beth.”
The flat statement very nearly pulled her up, but she refused to feel sorry for him. The world’s hottest women were constantly vying for his attention. He wasn’t short of wifely candidates, if he ever wanted to take the plunge. “So you haven’t been engaged.
That makes one thing I know about you.”
He cradled her hands in his and his sensual lips curved into a smile. “There’s not much to know.”
“Oh, please! I think that’s my line, and yet you could write a book about me without pausing for breath. You’re the one with the exciting life. Premieres and awards ceremonies, talk shows and parties, and loads of time on the red carpet. Movie stars for company one night and a handful of models the next. Concerts all over the world.”
“And nothing real.” The gruff admission seemed to have been dragged from deep inside him and, for a brief moment, she glimpsed a world of pain in his eyes. “Except you.”
“I’m your
fake
fiancée, remember?” She felt like she was walking on the sharp edge of a knife. She couldn’t fault him for wanting to hold on to what they’d had when they were alone in the house, but they’d ruin their perfect memory by trying to prolong it.
“When you get back to your normal life…” She frowned and tried again. “When things return to normal, you’ll see that my home and my lifestyle were what appealed to you. A hefty dose of suburban normality makes a refreshing change, but it’s not sustainable for someone like you and you’ll tire of it pretty quickly.”
He’d moved close while she’d been talking. She had to admire the way he argued his point by playing his lips over hers. Despite knowing that he was trying to override her arguments, she responded eagerly
“You feel real,” he whispered when his mouth left hers in favor of her neck. His hot breath scorched her nerve endings. His lips lingered over her pulse point and made it pound even harder.
“You taste real.” A smattering of carefully concealed hair pins, the only ones remaining after he’d tipped her on her head earlier, hit the floor courtesy of his hands in her hair. He lifted the strands to his face and groaned. “And I dreamed about your shampoo last night so I’m hoping that’s real too.”
She knew she should stop him. His hands spanned her rib cage and he caressed the underside of her breasts. Her back arched instinctively, but the heavily beaded dress dulled the sensations.
Her nipples were stinging, crying out for attention, and a small moan of protest escaped her when he drew lazy circles around them.
“May I?”
Do the glass slipper thing? Oh yeah.
She feigned indifference and examined the ceiling, grinning despite her attempts not to.
He cupped her breasts and tested their weight, his eyes catching hers briefly before admiring her exaggerated cleavage.
The dress had looked relatively demure in the mirror when she’d first put it on, but from this angle and with his hands pushing her breasts up, she might as well be naked.
Her skin was pale against his tanned hands, and the vibrant blue of her dress with its sparkly beads caught the sunlight that streamed in through the domed roof of the observatory. She saw the rough calluses on Jake’s fingers, yet his touch was incredibly gentle, and deliberately unsatisfying. Unable to resist, she covered his hands with hers and murmured encouragement.
His thumbs finally swept over her aching nipples.
“Tell me to stop and I will,” he said.
“Don’t stop.”
He groaned long and low. “I don’t have—”
She touched her fingertips to his lips and reached inside her dress to where she’d tucked a small foil packet beneath her bra strap. “I know, crazy, right?” she said when his jaw went slack. “I was feeling a little underprepared going into the interview.”
Jake’s splutter of laughter would’ve been offensive if he hadn’t crushed her close as well. “I have to applaud your weapon of choice.” His hands drew the zipper of her dress down but she stopped him.
“If we take this off we’ll never get it back on again.”
His gaze darted around the small upper floor of th observatory before sweeping over her dress. “Will you wear it again?”
“No. It’s too long and—”
He put his finger to his mouth and she stopped talking. His hand curved in a come-here gesture that she obeyed without thinking. “Charades,” he said and it was her turn to laugh.
He tapped the wooden beam above her head but her dress wouldn’t allow her to reach that high. He shrugged and caught the hem of her dress in his hands, spiking it on one of the overhead hooks meant for star charts. Before she could protest the rip he’d put in it, he did the same to the other side, and she had to admire the butterfly wings he’d fashioned for her.
The soft layers of petticoats afforded her some measure of cover but the heat in Jake’s eyes attested to their transparency.
“You can lean on my shoulders for balance,” he said before claiming her mouth in a knee-weakening kiss.
A moment later he was gone, kneeling down and slipping beneath her petticoats. In a daze she reached for his shoulders, but he was crouched too low for her to reach him. She swayed on her feet when Jake pressed a kiss to the inside of her ankle and slowly trailed upward. The combination of his mouth moving up while her underwear slid down disoriented her, but she allowed him to lift her feet one at a time. The gentle pressure of his hands encouraged her to widen her stance. She offered token resistance by pressing her knees together until he knelt high enough for her to cling to his shoulders. His mouth left her inner thigh to press against her heated flesh. He groaned and the tiny vibrations made her gasp and take an unsteady step forward. The sound of her dress ripping pulled her up and the skillful play of his fingers redirected her attention. Her unusually high heels were impossible to balance on and Jake’s broad shoulders faded into insignificance as her whole world teetered on the tip of his tongue. Completely lost in the moment, she arched closer, offering more, needing more in return. The wild tempo of his movements slowed and he gave her one stunning moment of inaction to prepare herself. It wasn’t enough. She screamed as his fingers thrust one last time and the pad of his tongue pressed against her, unleashing a riot of sensation unlike anything she’d ever experienced.
An alarm sounded, loud and incredibly close, even as her body struggled to cope with the intensity of her orgasm.
Jake pushed free of her petticoats and made a dive for the radio Ken had insisted they keep with them. “She’s okay,” he said.
“My fault.” There was a pause and then, “I know. Next time.”
Next time?
Every drop of blood in her entire body rushed to her face as she realized that their entire encounter had been shared. Oblivious to the tearing fabric of her gown, she stumbled for the stairs and prayed she wasn’t about to navigate them headfirst.
“Beth!”
Taking no notice of Jake, she focused on the curved metal steps that loomed ahead. Jake caught her by the waist, although it was lucky they didn’t take a dive down the stairs.
“Wait! They weren’t listening in.”
Annoyed that her body shook uncontrollably, she made a hissing sound. “Yeah, I can tell.”
“Loud noises register as lights on their monitor. That’s all.”
Without her permission, her arms folded over the top of his in silent acceptance. She turned in his arms and searched his face.
“Who did you speak to?”
He didn’t respond, but she read between the lines. The few words he’d exchanged had been heard by many.
“This is ridiculous. We might as well have just done that”— she gestured to where she’d recently stood—“on the front lawn for all the privacy we had.” Anxious laughter, a whisker away from hysteria, bubbled out of her.
“I can’t stay here. My home has always been a haven for tradition and family and stability. I just gave an interview with three of the biggest stars imaginable, and I’ve got four others residing under my roof. Despite having more beds than most people, I’ve taken to popping outside to the observatory when I want to have sex. And then I find out that it’s bugged! I think it might be good for me to leave now and come back when things have returned to normal.”
“Maybe you should stay and I should go,” he said without a trace of emotion in his voice. He gestured dismissively at her house. “A happy-families fairy-tale existence isn’t for everyone, Cinders.”
…
Jake clenched his back teeth as the fire in Beth’s eyes sputtered and died. Circling back to Cinders and Famous Man as they’d been that first night on her front porch made him feel like a jerk, but he envied the sanctuary Beth’s home provided, and he wouldn’t be the wedge that destroyed it.
“You don’t know what you’re missing by not cultivating a close relationship with your family.” He thought she’d finished but she’d only paused for breath. “How ironic is it that I’ve got a richer life than you do?”
An involuntary sound was wrenched from his throat and he recognized, with a strange sense of detachment, that it was the sound of his heart breaking.
“Scoff all you want,” she said, clearly misinterpreting his pain, “but you can’t put a price on the things I value. Those of us who aren’t full of our own importance consider things like love and family and
engagements
life-changing.”
“You
have
changed my life.”
She worked her engagement ring off her finger, her eyes never leaving his. “Yeah? Well, you’ve taught me my instincts aren’t to be trusted.” She offered the ring to him. “I don’t feel right about taking it with me to the hotel.”
“It’s yours. I want you to have it.”
“It’s a beautiful ring, Jake, but wearing it tests my sanity. I can handle reading about our engagement for a while, but the ring is like a promise that won’t be kept.”
Shadows didn’t belong in her eyes. She held herself so tightly in check that he feared she’d snap in two. His hand itched with the need to smooth over her jaw, trail down her neck, draw her closer via slight pressure on her nape, kiss her— “You should come to Brad and Skyla’s wedding,” she said, as if sensing the need to put a lid on his thoughts. “It’s on a boat and we’ll cruise around Port Phillip Bay during the ceremony and the reception. If you listen closely to their vows, you might learn something.” She pressed the ring into his hand. “You know what? I want you to come. I dare you to. I don’t fancy spending the whole evening explaining to Brad’s family why my new
fiancé
was unable to take time out of his busy schedule to accompany me.”