Falling For The Rebel Princess. Ellie Darkins
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the cold light of the morning after, she knew that they needed to face the problem head-on. She broke her gaze away from him, trying to cover what they had both clearly been remembering.
‘Ground rules,’ she said firmly, distracting herself by taking another bite of pie. ‘If we do this, there have to be ground rules to stop it getting complicated.’ He nodded in agreement, and she kept talking. ‘First of all, we keep this strictly business. We both need to keep our heads and be able to walk away when the time is right. Let’s acknowledge that there is chemistry between us, but if we let that lead us, we’re not going to be objective and make smart decisions. And I think we both agree that we need to be smart.’
‘People will talk if we don’t make this look good. It has to be convincing.’
‘Well, duh.’ She waved to the waitress for a coffee refill. ‘You’re really trying to teach me how to handle the press? Obviously, in public we behave as if we’re so madly in love that we couldn’t wait a single minute longer to get married. We sell the hell out of it and make sure that no one has a choice but to believe us. But that’s in public. In private, we’re respectful colleagues.’
He snorted. ‘Colleagues? You think we can do that? You were there, weren’t you, last night? You do remember?’
Did she remember the kiss? The shivers? The way that she could still feel the imprint of his mouth on hers, as if the touch of skin on skin had permanently altered the cells? Yeah, she remembered, but that wasn’t what was important here.
‘And that’s why we need the rules, Joe. If you want to stay married to me, you’d better listen up and pay attention.’
‘Oh, I’m listening, and you’re very clear. In public, I’m madly in love with you. Behind closed doors I’m at arm’s length. Got it. So what are your other rules?’
She resurrected the death stare. ‘No cheating. Ever. If we’re going to make people believe this, they have to really believe it. We can’t risk the story being hijacked. Doesn’t matter how discreet you think you’re being, it’s never enough.’
‘I get it. You don’t share. Goes without saying.’
She dropped her cup back onto her saucer a little heavier than she had planned, and the hot, bitter liquid slopped over the side again. ‘This isn’t about me, Joe. Don’t pretend to know me. This is about appearances. I’ve already told you, this isn’t personal.’
‘Fine, well, if you’re all done then I’ve got a rule of my own.’
‘Go on, then.’ She raised an eyebrow in anticipation.
‘You move in with me.’
This time, the whole cup went over, coffee sloshing over the side of the table and onto her faded black jeans. At least she’d managed to miss her white shirt, she thought, thanking whoever was responsible for small mercies. She mopped hastily with a handful of napkins, buying her precious moments to regain her composure and think about what he had said. Of course she understood deep down that they would have to live together. But somehow, until he’d said it out loud, she hadn’t believed it.
They would be alone together. Living alone together. No one to chaperone or keep them to their ‘this is just business’ word. Watching him across a diner table this morning, it wasn’t exactly easy to keep her hands off him, so how were they meant to do that living alone together?
But she knew better than anyone that they had to make this look good. If her parents knew that she’d only done this to get out of the marriage to Philippe they would be so disappointed, and she didn’t know that she could take doing that to them again.
Separate flats weren’t going to cut it. By the time she looked back up, she knew that she seemed calm, regardless of what was going on underneath.
‘Of course, that makes sense. Are you going to insist on your place rather than mine?’
‘I’ll need my recording studio.’
She nodded. ‘Fine. So that’s it, then? Three ground rules and we’re just going to do this?’
‘Well, if you’re going to chicken out, you need to do it now.’
‘I’m not eight years old, Joe. I’m not going to go through with this because you call me chicken.’
‘Fine, why are you going to do it?’ Nice use of psychology there, she thought. Act as though I’ve already agreed. He really did want this publicity. But it didn’t matter, because she’d already made up her mind.
‘I’m doing it because I don’t want to hurt my family any more than I have to, and because I think it’ll be good for my career.’ And because it would save her from being talked into a real marriage, one which she knew she could never deserve.
‘As long as you’re doing it, your reasons are your own business,’ Joe replied. She felt a little sting at that, like a brush of nettles against bare skin. Her own business. Damn right it was, but the way he said it, as if there really were nothing more than that between them... It didn’t make sense. She didn’t want it to make sense. She just knew that she didn’t want it to hurt.
‘So what are we going to tell people?’ she asked after a long, awkward silence. ‘I guess we need to get our stories straight.’
He nodded, and sipped at his coffee. ‘We just keep it simple. We were swept away when we met each other yesterday, knew right away that it was love and decided we needed to be married. The guys in the band will go along with it. You don’t have to worry about that.’ Somehow she’d forgotten that they’d been there, egging them on, bundling them in the cab to the courthouse. When she thought back to last night, she remembered watching Joe on stage, sweat dripping from his forehead as he sang and rocked around the stage. Him grabbing her hand and pulling her to the dance floor when they’d gone on to a club after the gig, when he hadn’t wanted to talk business.
She remembered the touch of his mouth on hers, as they were pronounced husband and wife.
But of course there had been witnesses, people who knew as well as she did that this was all a sham.
‘What if they say something? They could go to the press.’
‘They won’t. Anyway, to everyone else it was just a laugh. And if anyone did say something, it’d be up to us to look so convincingly in love that no one could possibly believe them.’
‘Ah, easy as that, huh.’
As they sat in the diner she realised how little thought they’d actually given this. She didn’t even know when she would see him again. Her flight was booked back to London that night. She’d only been in Vegas to take this meeting. Her boss had sent her on a flying visit, instructed to try anything to get him to sign. She’d given her word that she wouldn’t leave without the deal done. Would he see through them when they got back? Would he realise how far she had gone to keep to her promise?
‘I’m flying home tonight,’ she said.
He raised an eyebrow. ‘You were pretty sure you’d get me to sign, then. Didn’t think you’d have to stick around to convince me?’
‘I thought you’d be on the move, actually. I was told that you were only in Vegas for one night.’ She knew that the band were renowned for their work ethic and their packed tour schedule, moving from city to city and gig to gig night after night. This had been her only chance for a meeting, her boss had told her as he’d instructed her to book a flight.
If he was always on the move like that, perhaps this would be easier than she thought. It could be weeks, months, before they actually had to live together. And by then, maybe... Maybe what. Maybe things would be different? There was no point pretending to be married at all if she thought that they would have changed their minds in a few weeks. They had to stick it out longer than that. If they were going to do this, they had to do it properly.
‘I am, as it happens. I’m