Authors: Robyn Thomas
“Of course,” he said trying to keep a straight face.
“Look, uh, whatever your name is, you’re not staying, and I’m dressed just fine for a night at home alone.”
His smile was a killer, but his response was what floored her.
“You won’t be alone. Things have changed. You’re engaged to me.
It’s all in there.” He pointed at the paper she held. “Read it and get caught up.”
Separate smiling images of herself and the Englishman stared back at her, but as the first few words on the page sank in, her knees shook violently and threatened to give out all together.
“Awesome Emperor, Jake Olsen, to wed lottery bride.”
Her gaze shot to his. “Awesome emperor? Did you write this yourself?”
“My manager wrote it,” he said drily. “You’re getting a preview of tomorrow’s headlines.”
“Tomorrow’s
headlines?”
“It’s real, Bethany. A press release. A sneak peek of tomorrow’s breaking news. You’re about to be famously engaged.”
“To a man I don’t know? We just met a minute ago, and I don’t recall a proposal, let alone an acceptance.” She glanced back down at the page to confirm his name. “Jake, is it?”
“Jake Olsen.”
He said his name as if it should mean something, but it didn’t.
“If we’ve met before, then I’m afraid I don’t remember.” She thrust the article into his hands and pointed at the black Hummer parked beneath the rose arbor. “If you must peddle insanity, then you might have more luck next door.”
“Jake Olsen has dated some of the world’s greatest beauties,” he said with an edge to his voice as he read from the page, “but when this rock god’s mind turned to marriage—”
She snorted. “Now you’re a rock god?”
The silence was so complete she could hear his back teeth grind. “When
Jake’s
mind turned to marriage, only a commoner would do. The multi-award winning front man of UK rock band Five Awesome Emperors—”
Her jaw dropped to somewhere in the vicinity of her feet, but his dark look prevented her from commenting.
“Jake,”
he said again, “held a lottery, asking dozens of ordinary women from all over the world to send him a thumbnail sketch of their lives so that he might choose a wife from among them. It’s the Cinderella story of our time and the lucky heroine is Australian chef Bethany Louise Carlisle.”
“Stop reading. Please. I need to think. The idea of a marriage lottery is creepy and wrong, and I didn’t enter, so there’s been some mistake.”
His voice was firm, reminding her more of a headmaster than a rock god. “In a few hours, our engagement will be public record.
There’s no mistake, Bethany Louise Carlisle-Olsen.”
“Sure there is. We’ll start with the obvious. I’d never marry a man with long hair, or one who calls me by full name.”
“You’re not marrying me, it’s a temporary engagement. And if you prefer, I’ll call you Cinders?”
“You’d best call me Beth,” she said. “You know what? Cinders will do fine, actually. I’ll be Cinders, and courtesy of your too-long rock-god hair, you can be Famous Man.”
“Beth.” He paused for several heartbeats before making a rough sound in the base of his throat. He pressed the paper into her hands. “Read all of it.
She read. The article included all of her contact details, and
everything from a detailed physical description to a list of life skills and character traits. It even had her height, weight, and IQ score.
“Tell me, in as few words as possible, why this is happening and how you got my personal information.” She fisted her hands on her hips when he checked his watch. “Go ahead and wait till the reporters get here. You can tell all of us at once.”
“Women.”
The single word was barely audible, but the sentiment behind it set her blood to boil.
“Women who don’t want their personal details made public?
Are they the women you’re muttering about?” She waved the sheet of paper in his face. “I’m not looking to get married. Or engaged. I’m happy to surrender my winning lottery ticket and forfeit my prize.”
“A prize you could forfeit. A fiancé you can’t.”
“Watch me.”
“Denying it will only fuel speculation.” His breath hissed out and he rubbed his open palm over his face. “We’re starring in a modern-day fairy tale that’ll capture the public’s interest.
Cinderella bagging Prince Charming will make for a couple of great headlines, but if Cinders snubs the prince, the story will explode. They’ll hound us
both
until marriage starts to look like the easy option.”
“But none of it is true!”
“Doesn’t matter. Our engagement will be headline news all over the world tomorrow. Unfortunately, it’s unavoidable. That’s why it’s best if I move in—temporarily, of course.”
She reached back and curled her hand around the familiar crescent-moon doorknob. “Trust me, living together
is
avoidable. I’m not willing to share my house with anyone tonight. Not even you.”
“What do you mean?”
“My mother’s in every room of this house. I can’t possibly cater to a guest tonight and I can’t be engaged to you, either.”
Tears pooled in her eyes and she tried not to blink, tried not to let her lower lip tremble. Suppressing the urge to throw herself at the self-proclaimed prince wasn’t easy, but she straightened her spine to tell him to get back on his horse instead. “You seem…very nice. But my life’s too complicated for me to get involved in something like this. I’m sorry to mess with your plans, but you’ll have to find someone else to play Cinderella.”
He studied her, his hazel eyes full of concern, compelling her to continue.
“If your timing were better—” She stopped the apology that hovered on her lips. “I can’t have this conversation. I shouldn’t have to, because I don’t know you.”
Jake’s hands closed over her shoulders, the heat of his fingers through the delicate fabric of her robe warming far more than they touched. Tiny frissons of awareness spread through her system, giving it a long overdue wake-up call. His thumbs kneaded her tight neck muscles, and when he spoke his voice was pitched low.
It wound around her, threatening to undermine her composure.
“Skyla and Brad have told me so much about you that I feel as if I know you,” he said. “I know your mother isn’t well. I know you rarely sleep and forget to eat.”
“Jake.” She searched for the right words and came up empty.
He was intruding on a very private occasion. “My mother wasn’t just unwell, she was dying, and she lost her battle a few days ago.
Now that she’s gone, I need to be here with all of her things, in the house we’ve always shared.”
“I had no idea. The last time I spoke to Brad he was intent on moving in. He talks about you nonstop and I thought he was making a pest of himself.” He palmed his face and exhaled a heavy breath. “I realize you don’t know me, but you shouldn’t be alone tonight, Beth. Tell me what you need. What can I do for you? Anything. Name it and it’s yours.”
“An early night is all I really want. I need time alone to process the fact that my mother is never coming back. I’ve had months to prepare for this, but it’s still a shock. I’m not ready and I don’t…”
She swallowed. “I don’t quite know what to do.”
He gathered her close for the hug she desperately needed.
“I’m here now. Maybe I can help get your mind off your mother.
I’ll be a good distraction, because your house will be surrounded with reporters within hours.”
“It’s official then. I have a houseguest.” Beth sighed.
He surveyed her yard. “Does this high stone fence surround the entire property?”
“Yeah, it does. But you weren’t serious about reporters, were you?”
“After the news breaks, the media will assume I’m here.
That’ll mean siege conditions: paparazzi camped outside your gates, helicopters flying overhead, no one coming in or out without security clearance.”
She stared at him while she considered the inconvenience of housing him, frowning when his gaze jerked back to her face from somewhere down near her feet. Was he checking her out?
“
Nice
,” he said.
Pretty sure she didn’t want him to elaborate, she said, “If you’re staying, you’ll have to abide by the house rules.” He grinned.
“First up, stop calling me Bethany. It’s private and special, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“The media will run with Bethany, nothing I can do about it.
Okay, but I’d prefer plain old Beth.” She gestured at her house, then tried to look stern. “No one, not even you, is famous inside my house. You’ll have to help out, and you won’t be entitled to any hospitality beyond what I’d give to a visiting relative. A distant,
female
relative.”
He clasped his hand to his heart as if he’d been mortally wounded, but his smile didn’t dim. He tried the front door. “It’s locked. Want me to organize a locksmith?”
“No need. Follow me.” She pondered their situation as she navigated the chilly stone path toward her kitchen window. Five
Awesome Emperors were one of the most famous bands on the planet and cameras followed them everywhere. Jake didn’t travel without his band, an entourage, and bodyguards. He couldn’t be here all alone, and he certainly couldn’t be engaged to her.
She stopped and turned to face him in the pool of light spilling through the living room windows. Jake Olsen was here in her yard, engaged to her, about to move in, all because Brad couldn’t stop talking about her…
“Something wrong?”
“Why would there be? My last half hour hasn’t produced anything more exciting than a rock god, a fake engagement, and siege preparations. It’s slow for a Friday night.” She gave his arm an affectionate pat. “But it’s early. Things might pick up later.”
“Someone went to extraordinary lengths to research every aspect of my life before fabricating a bridal lottery in your name and declaring me the winner. I can’t understand why they chose me or how they know so much.”
“Reporters,” he said. “It’s their job.”
“I don’t think anyone would pair us up without a reason. The column won’t be printed till tomorrow, yet you’ve had it long enough to fly here from the UK
.”
His arm tensed beneath her hand. “To warn you.”
“You could have reached me by phone or sent a representative.
Something’s not right. You’ve known for at least a day, and you haven’t taken out an injunction or notified anyone.” She gasped at the conclusion her mind supplied. “You said something about your manager writing the article. You want this engagement story published? Why?”
He didn’t speak.
“Do you need a partner for some reason? Someone depressingly average who’ll make you look benevolent and soulful?”
“No.”
“But you’re allowing it to be printed.” She stared at him, struggling to imagine a scenario where he’d want to be engaged to her. “Of course! It must be a cover to divert attention away from your real engagement. Congratulations.” She hugged him, ignoring his lack of response. “How exciting. Do I get to know who I’m helping? Presumably she’s as famous as you are. Is she an Aussie?”
He sliced his hand through the air, and she bit the inside of her lip to silence further questions. Clearly
his
life was private. Oh, to be a rock god and make all the rules.
“You’re the only fiancée I have. I saw a situation developing between you and your ex-husband and I took the opportunity to end it.”
“A situation? Brad’s my best friend, but there’s nothing else going on. We tried that and it was a disaster. Why do you care so much about Brad and Skyla?”
“She’ll benefit from your inability to contact Brad. She makes a valuable contribution to Five Awesome Emperors and we look after our own. A fake engagement was the simplest way to eliminate problems before her wedding and ensure that her future husband maintained some distance from his ex-wife, who’d be confined to her home amid a sea of reporters.”
Being confined in her house—with Jake—didn’t seem like much of a hardship. She slipped her hand into his and tugged him farther along the path.
“Come with me. I might need you as a human shield if the siege turns ugly.”
His laughter did strange things to the backs of her knees.
“We’ll be entering the house via my kitchen windows. It’s the traditional entry point when a siege is imminent.”
…
Half an hour later, Jake leapt off his seat, almost upending his coffee when Beth dug a mobile phone out of her handbag. “You can’t tell anyone I’m here.”
“I won’t mention your name, but I have to text Brad. Otherwise, he’ll call every hour unless I give him a reason not to, and if I don’t answer, he’ll come over.”
Every hour? Stalker was the word that sprang to mind.
Brad’s preoccupation with Beth was worse than he’d thought. A man who’d call his ex-wife every hour when he was due to marry someone else in a week’s time couldn’t possibly be trusted. Brad couldn’t visit tonight, though. Beth’s front gates were secured with an enormous chain and padlock. “If you don’t want him here, then don’t unlock the gates.”
She paused mid-text and frowned at him. “Brad has keys. His family has had them for over a decade. I have keys to both Brad’s apartment and his mother’s house. It’s a fail-safe if we get locked out or need help.” She shrugged. “For the past year, he’s worked from my study one day per week so he could watch over my mother while I took a lunch shift at the restaurant.” She crossed her arms over her stomach in a way that made him want to hug her. “Friday is usually Brad’s day to work here and my day at the restaurant, but today was my mum’s funeral. It’s been a tough day for both of us. He knows I’ll try for an early night, but he’ll expect me to check in with him before I go to bed.”
Her body language screamed stay away, so he kept it light and gestured at her phone. “Let me see that before you send it.”
He paced to the farthest corner of her kitchen and made a private call to his manager. “Brad never moved in, Mike. And Beth’s mother died. Morning will find Beth and I engaged and living together, but if I keep my head down they won’t be able to prove it. I’ll need a team on the ground here within a day or two, and exterior security immediately. I’d appreciate it if you’d leave the explanations for me to handle once the team arrives.”