Famously Engaged (9 page)

“What do you see happening if you step out the door?”

“If we leave here together we’ll confirm the engagement story and I’ll have a chance, however slim, to shape what’s said about me.” She ordered her shoulders to lift in unison. “The outcome isn’t important. It’s probably going to be bad either way, but contributing to the mayhem sounds better than waiting around to assess the fallout.” She held out her hand. “We can drop Brad off at the football field along the way. Want to join me?”

…

Jake angled a dark look her way as they waited for a green light several kilometers from her home. “Remind me why I agreed to this?”

She grinned. “If you can’t justify delivering food to the underprivileged, then I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

“A wire transfer would accomplish that.”

She nudged his arm as the light changed. “The light’s green.

Money’s good but food is better, and the Communal Larder’s always shorthanded. I’ve donated food before, but I’ve always wanted to go out on a run and deliver it personally. But while my mother was sick, I just never had the time.”

His mouth quirked as if she’d said something amusing.

“What?”

“You have time on the day your home’s surrounded with reporters? Playing cat-and-mouse with paparazzi all over the city makes it right for you?”

No, you make it right.
“Maybe I wanted company…”

He shot her a considering look, the stop/start motion of the traffic around them making his hands tighten on the steering wheel and his shoulders tense. “Brad said you never go on second dates.”

“Is that what this is? Wow, we sure fit a lot into the first date.”

He ignored her sarcasm. “If you wanted company, you’d be open to the possibility of finding it?”

“In theory, yes, but I feel like an unwanted kitten Brad’s trying to find a home for.”

A strangled cough emerged from his throat. “You want to explain that to me?”

“Not particularly.” She huffed out a sigh then relented. “Okay, fine. He’s my personal matchmaker. He hasn’t ever told me how he does it, but I can picture him with a comprehensive spreadsheet on his computer. He takes great care to screen the guys before he passes my number out. They’re all within two years of my age, no jewelry, no piercings, no fake tans, no tattoos.” She swapped hands and continued counting off attributes. “Nonsmokers, clean-shaven with dark hair cropped short, shiny shoes, and a respectable Melbourne-based job. Oh, and they’re also close to their families and interested in a long-term relationship.”

His eyebrows hiked upward at the long list and she sighed.

“They sound too good for me and I come across as ungrateful, don’t I?” A shudder of distaste made her squirm. “They could almost be clones from a made-to-order husband factory, but it’s more than that. Brad knows me better than anyone and he’s determined to find someone I’ll tumble headlong into love with, so he gives my dates tips on where to take me, safe subjects to discuss and others to avoid, what wine to order with dinner, what music to play in the car.” She groaned. “There’s no magic, no spark. They’re so perfect it’s nauseating, and I always want to run in the other direction.”

She clutched the seat as Jake swerved out of the traffic and brought the van to an abrupt halt in a bus zone.

“There’s more. Say it.”

Fussing with the stiff bow that sat below her breasts was more appealing than talking, until Jake’s large hands covered hers.

He’d unclipped his seat belt and leaned close, his muscular body looming over hers. With a hot man sharing her seat, the last thing she wanted to do was talk, but his hazel eyes were intense, daring her to answer.

“I want a husband and a family more than anything, but I don’t know how I’m ever going to manage it. I’m a complete failure when it comes to dating. I hate it more than anything else.

The sense of expectation that goes along with dating makes me uncomfortable and I dread the end of the date from the moment we first meet.”

“Perhaps you’d enjoy dating someone other than your ex-husband?”

“I do. I mean, I have. I’ve been on lots of dates and they’ve all been disasters, so
I
must be the problem.”

“Brad’s your age, right?” She nodded. “And he has dark hair that’s cropped short? He lives in Melbourne, has a good job, doesn’t smoke. He’s close to his family, hell, he was even close to yours. Do I need to go on?”

“Please don’t.” She laughed mirthlessly. “So all this time, I’ve been dating copies of Brad?” A gurgle of near-hysterical laughter climbed her throat and emerged as a rude noise. “That’s funny.

Pathetic, but kind of funny too. I just figured they should’ve been my type. I guess Brad thought the same thing. I can’t believe I kept dating the one man I know I don’t want. No wonder I was miserable.”

Jake’s mouth swooped down on hers and dropped an urgent kiss that was over almost before it began. “Are you miserable now?”

She inclined her head and smiled at the certified rock god who was idolized by millions, yet didn’t tick more than a box or two on her list.

Maybe it was time for a new list. Hmm: high-maintenance hair, strictly temporary, looks hot naked. She slid her fingers beneath the hem of Jake’s charcoal henley shirt, tracing his rock-hard abs.

“Yep. Miserable and deprived.”

“Liar.” His lips sipped at hers and a warm rush of contentment flowed though her. She would’ve welcomed a feverish end-of-date kind of kiss, but Jake was just playing, making her smile against his mouth and arch a little closer.

One large hand slid up to curve around her breast, his thumb skating over the aroused peak through the layers of fabric. “You don’t feel miserable.”

I am. I don’t think I’ve ever been this low before, but I’m glad
you’re here.
She pressed into his hand and spoke against his mouth. “Maybe I’m just deprived?”

His laughter prompted hers. “I’m too intrigued to be insulted. I think you’re suggesting that the magic’s worn off and we need to surf again.”

An affirmative answer hovered on her lips but she didn’t get to share it. The passenger door of their van flew open and a series of flashes went off in quick succession. Beth shrieked and yanked her hand out from beneath Jake’s shirt as several people yelled questions at her from close range, and a sliver of fear slid down her spine as rough hands grabbed at her arm and shoulder.

“There’s no ring. She’s not wearing a ring. Where’d you meet? How long have you known Jake? Have you met the other members of Five Awesome Emperors? Who’s designing your ring? Have you set a date for the wedding?”

Thrown by the rapid shift from hazy desire to imminent threat, she regarded the intruders in stunned silence, hearing their questions yet not even attempting to answer them. Hadn’t they seen what was going on? Who’d interrupt a private moment like that?

Jake’s voice, sharper than a razor, cut through the mayhem.

“Nobody touches my fiancée.”

A mild curse, suitable for a prime-time soundbite, followed hard on the heels of his gaffe. Referring to Beth as his fiancée was akin to tossing a stick of dynamite onto a barbecue—explosive and rash. He’d been caught up in the fantasy of where their kiss could take them, and he’d spoken without thinking.

Beth’s mouth curved into a sunny smile that seemed out of place. “You heard the man. Give me a little space.”

He tried to avert the scowl that threatened to twist his entire face. She was ignoring him, choosing instead to work this small pack of vultures like a pro, winning them over with her wide eyes and oh-so-innocent manner.

“If delivering this food takes all day, then we might have to postpone the wedding.” She aimed a desperate look at him and he noticed the strain around her eyes. “I’ll need time to plan it properly.”

He reached for her hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “You heard my fiancée.”

Spreading his hands wide, he appealed to their pursuers. “No deliveries. No wedding. No story. What do you say to a ten-meter radius?”

Various grumbles of acceptance were drowned out by Beth’s exclamation. “He enlisted the help of the whole football team?

Tell me he didn’t!”

A dozen or more men in sleeveless red-and-white sweaters and red shorts were approaching their van and Beth looked set to crawl beneath the seat. Recognizing Brad among them, Jake waved him over to the driver’s side window. “We’ve struck a deal with these people, but we could use an escort if a few of your guys are free?”

“I told the team what Beth’s up against today and they’re forfeiting the game to help her. Just tell us what you want us to do. Drive in front and behind the van? Do a little crowd control when you stop?”

“Yeah, that works. We’re blocking traffic, so we need to get moving before our numbers swell. The first stop is Toorak Road.”

He handed Brad the address. “Do you know it?”

“It’s two minutes away. Follow the navy-blue Beamer and hit the horn three times if you need anything.”

Jake followed, relieved to switch the GPS off. He stopped when Brad stopped, exited the van when Beth did, and got a kick out of the reactions he got from the charity workers they delivered food to. He relaxed into it, impressed with Brad’s diligence in maintaining a boundary around them, his opinion of the other man improving as the day wore on. Their small band of photographers and reporters had grown more vocal but they were easy enough to get along with. He’d never faced a whole bunch of paparazzi without the benefit of bodyguards before. Maybe the laid-back lifestyle in Australia was responsible for the courtesy they were being shown?

Beth grinned at him as he parked the van outside the venue for their final delivery. “I’ve got this, Famous Man
.
”

“It’s our last stop.”

She put her hand on his forearm and stopped him. “Take a minute to relax. I used to work here so I’ll just pop in and out on my own.”

“You’re ashamed of me?”

“The opposite, actually.” Her eyes held a twinge of pain in their depths before she blinked it away. “I’d rather not flaunt you and lie about what we’ve got going.” She pointed to the gun-metal gray roller door covered in graffiti. “One of the Brad-clones runs this place. He’s a really nice guy and we might’ve hit if off if Brad hadn’t tried so hard to push us together.”

A pang of something, surely not jealousy, arrowed through him and he had to struggle to keep his tone light. “Don’t be long. I’ve got a suspicious nature and this will be the first time my fiancée will be out of my sight.”

She laughed and socked his upper arm with all the power of a geriatic butterfly. “Quit calling me that when no one else is in hearing distance. It’s not real and we need to remember that we’re just putting on a show.”

She climbed out of the van, and he rested his head back and closed his eyes as she grabbed the last few containers from the back. A feeling of utter contentment washed over him and he allowed his thoughts to drift. It was easy to lose himself in the present, but his days with Beth were numbered and their engagement was a myth. The whole better-than-a-glass-slipper thing had been a ruse to touch her, and yet she really did fit him like a glove. Her personality wrapped itself around him as surely as her legs had, and the instinctive give-and-take between them would be what he’d miss most when it was time to say good-bye.

When it was time? Time for what? Time to pretend he was a selfish bastard who cared more about fame than he did about Beth? Time to bow out gracefully and leave her struggling to find someone who’d make her feel like he did? Public perception was that he was a heartless womanizer, but in reality it always came down to him making the right decision for everyone else and walking away with nothing.

A commotion outside drew his attention and he was out of the van and heading for Beth before she’d finished calling his name. He pushed through the crowd to get to her and felt her muscles tense when he slid his arm around her waist.

“I’m Cinderella and you’re Prince Charming,” she said.

“These lovely people are certain I’m after fifteen minutes of fame, and your money, of course, but they’re curious about what you see in me.” She fixed him with a challenging look, her vulnerability evident to him although he doubted anyone else would notice it.

“I could answer, Famous Man, but you might prefer to take this one yourself.”

Hell yeah, he’d love to tell the world what a sweetheart Beth was. The impassioned words died in his throat because revealing more details about her would be unforgivable. Presenting a united front would be a much better course of action, and he could start by dispelling their gold-digging assumptions.

He spoke directly to Beth despite the jostling crowd. “It’s

very simple. I’ve carried a glass slipper around for years in the hope it would eventually be a perfect fit for someone. I saw you, spoke to you, and knew my search was over.”

Beth regarded him as if he’d publicly demonstrated his glass-slipper preference, and for an awkward moment he wondered if his hands had been curved in anticipation.

He gestured toward her for the benefit of their onlookers.

“When you find the right person, there’s no point in continuing to look. I have a beautiful fiancée who makes me laugh, surprises and inspires me, cooks awesome food at weird hours of the night, and holds my secrets close. An excess of money and fame are obstacles that we’re dealing with one day at a time.”

The rest of the encounter was a blur, but Beth slid into his arms like warm butter over toast when the call went up for photographs. He tasted sadness in the kiss they shared for the cameras, and reality hit him hard. Beth was digging incredibly deep to make it through the day, and it had taken him all this time to realize her happiness was only for show. The pride he’d felt at keeping her mood light all day vanished in a heartbeat, replaced by a cloud of self-contempt so thick he almost choked on it.

“I’m going to have to ask you all to move along,” a male voice said. “We start serving dinner for the city’s homeless in less than an hour and your presence here is inappropriate.”

Beth’s body sagged with relief and Jake pulled her closer as her Brad-clone dispersed the crowd. “Thanks, Simon,” she mouthed and nodded when the man pointed at her and mimed sleeping.