“God, woman, you are infuriating.”
“Get used to it. It’s my ongoing gift to you.”
He ground his teeth and rolled his eyes as she took out her phone and dialled the taxi. Jack stepped forward and plucked the phone out of her hands before the call could connect. She looked up at him with fire in her eyes again, “Hey, give that back. I don’t want to go with Mr. Stepford.”
“I’ll take you myself. Just give me a few minutes to get changed. You don’t even know where we are, so how would you call a cab?”
“They have GPS, these days, you out-of-touch fool. They know where I am when I call, and if they can’t find the address, they have my caller ID so they can ask me.”
“Oh.” He seemed surprised. “I didn’t know that.”
“I’d much rather annoy you for the night, though, so hurry up and change, so we can go exploring. I’ve never been to Vegas—I’m dying to see it.”
He retreated to their room to change, and stumbled upon the explosion that had occurred while she’d showered. Her clothes were everywhere, and in the bathroom, wet towels were on the floor. She might pretend she didn’t like having household help, but it sure seemed like she needed it. As he let out a loud sigh, she came up behind him.
“While you get changed, I’ll just tidy up,” she said.
He had to take back the evil thoughts he was thinking about her, and he spoke before he thought about what he was saying. “Mrs. Jones can do that.”
She turned to him with scorn in her eyes and said, “I don’t fucking think so, Jack.”
***
The drive to the Strip was uneventful, although Jack knew he’d seen a little twinkle in her eye when the garage door had opened and revealed his red Ford Mustang. Her wide smile now as they drove confirmed that she loved the car, although he knew she’d never give him the satisfaction of saying so. Several times, his eyes were drawn to her when they should have been on the road.
What the hell is wrong with me?
As they stopped at the corner and waited for the red signal to change to green, she couldn’t contain her excitement, anymore. “Oh my God, this is AH-MAH-ZING! How can you not be down here every single night? I’ll never get tired of this.”
“We’re not coming here every single night, I promise you that. It is exciting, though—I’ll admit it.”
“Exciting? Exciting doesn’t even begin to describe it. The colours, the lights—I can’t believe there are so many people out there!”
“It gets a lot busier than this. Once you’re well-known, you’ll find it harder to come down here regularly, so enjoy it while you can. Once someone recognises you, it will be pandemonium.”
“Is that why you prefer to stay home?”
“Sometimes. Mostly, I don’t have anyone to come here with, unless there’s a promotional event happening.”
Charlotte smiled her most mischievous smile, then, and Jack felt his heart rate speed up just a little. “Jack, my friend, now you have a partner in crime. I’m going to drag you here so much that you’ll want me to move out!”
“I already want you to move out.” The words slipped out before he had a chance to think about how they might hurt her, but she had the hide of rhino.
“Fuck you, Jack Fawkner,” she said without a trace of malice. “I can tell I’m going to love it here. I’m surprised to say I’m thrilled you live in Vegas!”
He groaned as he pulled the car into the valet parking of Caesar’s Palace. He’d hoped she’d run away screaming from his home, but the bright lights had had the exact opposite effect.
***
“Are we incognito, or is this meant to be a date, do you think?” Jack looked surprised at her question and Charlotte realised he hadn’t given it a thought before now. She felt a tiny bit bad for thinking it was why he’d decided to come with her, in the end: to cement their standing in the eyes of the press.
“What do you want to do?”
He’s leaving it up to me? “Well, it depends how often you can stand to be seen with me in public, I guess. If that won’t be often, then maybe we should make the most of this now? What do you think? What’s your Princess limit?”
She watched him visibly relax for the first time since they’d met, and he gave her a genuine smile. “I can go out in public with you as often as is necessary, mostly to keep my eye on you. You don’t need to worry about that. You’re infuriating, but so far, you’re not bad company.”
“Good to know. I’ll have to try harder.” Charlotte giggled.
“Please don’t. Let’s just have a nice night. Your enthusiasm for this place is a little infectious; I’m looking forward to seeing it through your eyes.”
She smiled and turned her attention to the casino they were walking through. The noises of the slot machines rang out and the crowd jostled for position. The cocktail waitresses were dressed in cute, little uniforms that were like outfits from a bygone era. Charlotte made a mental note to make Jack take her to a show, while she was here. She’d even be nice to him, if it meant he would take her to see one of the big names. Maybe they’d see Britney Spears, or even Cher. God, how she loved Cher!
“Come on, let me show you the fountains.” He reached for her hand, enclosed it in his, and gave it a little squeeze. She looked sideways at him in surprise. “What? We’re getting engaged any minute, so we better get used to holding hands in public. I believe it was one of the things Jay suggested.” When she kept staring at him, he finally looked away and tugged her forward toward the giant exit doors that would take them out into the busy throng of tourists. “You don’t have to like it, just act like you do,” he muttered.
Charlotte was in shocked silence as they walked down the sweeping sidewalk to the street. She composed herself while they walked and reminded herself to look happy and carefree. She was with a gorgeous, famous man, and even if it wasn’t real, she was going to enjoy it as much as she could.
It wasn’t too much hard work as she felt her lips curl into a smile every time her eyes fell on something new. The Eiffel Tower replica across the street looked amazing; she made a mental note to ride to the top one day soon. The Strip was full of tourists laughing and drinking from giant, plastic guitars and coloured yard glasses. She marvelled that they were allowed to drink out on the street.
The walk to the Fountains of Bellagio didn’t look too far, but Charlotte was quickly learning that she’d made the right decision to wear comfortable boots and not towering, high heels. Even the walk from the car to the front of the casino had been epic; she counted at least three restaurants in just one casino and she suspected there were more hiding there, too. What an enormous place this was!
Jack manoeuvred them into position in front of the fountains as music played from the speakers above their heads. “They come on every fifteen minutes, so we won’t have long to wait.” He stood close behind her and she was conscious of his breath tickling the back of her ear. She could swear he was doing it on purpose.
A power struggle was brewing between them and she knew it was a battle she had to win, if she was going to continue to ignore the way his breath on her skin made her feel. She didn’t want to admit it to herself, yet, but it was likely that the three years she’d spend with Jack Fawkner were not going to be the worst three years of her life. If she had a solid movie career at the end of it, then it would all be worth it.
Jack put his hand on her shoulder as the music suddenly quieted and the crowd hushed. It was time for the show, and Charlotte felt a little thrill of excitement. She was in Las Vegas! As the first strains of the music rang out and the water shot up into the air, she looked up in wonder. The patterns were lovely and they kept time with the music as the crowd cheered. She ignored Jack’s hand, which had gathered her hair to the side, allowing him to rest his head on her shoulder as he slipped his other hand down to rest on her hip.
What the hell is he doing?
She nearly jumped out of her skin when he leaned down to kiss her neck. As q
uickly as he’d done it, he moved away and stood behind her, as though nothing had happened. She glanced up at him and smiled, and Jack smiled stiffly back.
What a dick. Why did he do that, if he still hates me?
She turned around and enjoyed the rest of the show; before she was ready, it was finished. The crowd drifted away and she heard them discussing where they should go now. Various suggestions floated through the air and people moved in the direction of the volcano eruption at the Mirage and discussed moving on to Fremont Street. It all sounded fabulous to her, and she pinched herself that she was lucky to have plenty of time to explore.
We don’t have to do everything tonight.
Jack took her hand again and they headed toward an outside escalator. She looked at Jack with a question in her eyes as they joined the throng of people going the same way. Behind her, she heard a woman whisper, “I think that’s Jack Fawkner.”
“What?” Jack looked at her. “We have to take this escalator and then walk across the bridge and down the other side. It’s the only way to get across the road on the Strip.”
“Oh. That’s weird.”
“It is. It’s also the reason you have to walk so far when you’re here—even crossing the road is an effort.” He smiled and looked for all the world like a man without a single care. She watched him as he smiled at people passing by. One or two appeared to recognise him, but his stride didn’t falter and he kept pulling her along with him.
“Where are we going?”
“We’re going to eat. Are you hungry?”
“I’m starving. Can we go to a buffet?”
He rolled his eyes and sighed. He seemed to sigh a lot when she was around. “You want to go to a buffet?”
“I do. I’ve heard they’re amazing. Buffets are my favourite thing in the world—we don’t have too many of them in Australia.”
“That’s because they are a breeding ground for bacteria.”
“Oh, poo. You’re no fun. Where are we going, then?”
“I thought you might like somewhere a little more classy than a buffet with five hundred other people sticking their fingers in your food.”
“Well, that shows what you know about me, doesn’t it?”
Jack suddenly stopped walking and turned to her as she bumped into his chest. His face was pained and he looked like he was about to explain himself to a child. “If we go to a buffet, there’ll be tonnes of people around. Word will eventually get out that I’m there, and we suddenly won’t be able to enjoy our meal in peace.”
“Is that so bad?”
“It can be. We don’t even have any security with us.”
She considered that for a second. “Okay. Just this once, I’ll let you be right. Next time, though, we do the buffet. You’ll just have to wear a hat, or something, so no one recognises you.”
He smothered the laugh that wanted to escape him. She was so damn innocent. A hat wouldn’t help him blend in—nothing but a full disguise would do the trick. She had a lot to learn about life in the spotlight.
“Deal. Now come on, let’s eat before the couple of people whispering around us turn into two hundred.” He pulled her toward a tiny, exclusive restaurant tucked away in the Planet Hollywood casino.
***
On the drive home, she was mercifully silent—possibly worn out from all the walking. She’d insisted they walk from one end of the Strip to the other, so she could look at all the buildings. Charlotte had laughed as a fine spray of mist had landed on them as they’d passed one of the bars where people spilled out of the doors and loud music pumped onto the street.
He’d played a giant slot machine at her urging, and by the time he received his prize, a small throng of people had gathered behind them, wanting photos and autographs. He’d turned on his movie star smile and taken selfies and signed shirts for at least half an hour as Charlotte watched on with interest. He’d finally called a halt to it and insisted they call it a night.
Now they were headed home and he couldn’t help but remember that they were supposed to share the same bed tonight. Things were about to get interesting.
He parked the car and she slid out her side and slipped into the house without a word. Jack followed her inside to find her standing in the dining room, biting her lip.
“What’s up? Suddenly realised where you’ll be sleeping? Want to sleep in the spare room?” he asked hopefully.
Charlotte turned to him and rolled her eyes. “No, I do not want to sleep in the spare room. I’m not scared of you, Jack. I want to raid the fridge, but I was just wondering if Mrs. Jones had already gone to bed.”
“You’re hungry? Didn’t you have enough at the restaurant?”
“Of course I did, but I wanted a piece of fruit, or something else sweet before bed. I haven’t eaten nearly enough fruit today. Can I go in there?”
Without a word, he headed toward the kitchen. After a moment, she decided to throw caution to the wind and follow him. Relieved to see that Mrs. Jones was nowhere to be seen, she got a glass from the cupboard and poured herself water from the tap.
As she drank it, Jack motioned toward the fridge. “We have bottled water; you don’t need to drink from the tap.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why can’t I drink from the tap?”
“You can. I was just pointing out that you don’t need to.”
“I like tap water. Why would you bring bottled water into your house?”
“Because it’s better.”
“It tastes mostly the same, and plastic bottles are bad for the environment. I only use them if I’m out, or if I’m somewhere tap water isn’t safe to drink. Don’t order any extra water on my account.”
“Alright, I’ll let Mrs Jones know. I just assumed you’d prefer bottled.”
She finished her water and then washed the glass and placed it on the drainer. “You need to come to Australia with me.”
He choked on his own drink of water, which he’d taken from the fridge. “What?”
“One day, you’ll need to visit Australia… with me. You need a bit of loosening up, and a week or two out of the limelight could be just what you need. There’ll be no bottled water when we stay with my family.”
“Wouldn’t we stay in a hotel?”
She laughed and he tried to ignore the urge to smile. “No way—my mother wouldn’t hear of it. We’ll stay on the farm. You can ride horses, and my brothers will challenge you to wood chopping competitions. We’ll have barbecues, and you’ll drink Aussie beer and only tap water before bed.”
“I wonder how your family will like me. Wouldn’t it just be easier to avoid us meeting too much?”
“Probably, but that’s not realistic, is it? What couples don’t introduce each other to their parents?”
“Plenty in Hollywood, actually.”
“Well,” she pursed her lips in annoyance, “I might be hanging around on the fringes of the rich and famous at the moment,” she waved her hand in his direction as she opened the fridge to peer inside, “but I don’t intend to become one of you.” Charlotte squealed as she saw the array of fruit stored on the top shelf of the fridge. “Can I eat these berries, or do you think Mrs. Jones has plans for them?”
“Go ahead. If she had plans, she’ll just order more.”
She sat at the kitchen bench and closed her eyes, savouring each berry as it passed her lips. She offered Jack some, but he shook his head as he took his own seat opposite her. He could hardly take his eyes off Charlotte and the way she slid each berry across her tongue. The look of pure bliss that followed as she closed her eyes was soon too much for him and he quickly stood up and excused himself.
“Do you remember the way to our room?”
“I do. Don’t worry Jack, I won’t stand you up. I’m a sure thing to spend the night in your bed,” she cooed at him and watched with amusement as he blushed and his eyes widened. He turned and walked out without saying another word; she smiled to herself
as she turned her attention to the delightful berries.
Jack Fawkner sure is fun to annoy.
***
When she went to the bedroom twenty minutes later, Jack was already in bed. She guessed he’d showered, since his hair appeared to be wet. His back was to her, though, so she couldn’t be sure. For all her bravado, she’d been panicking about this moment all day; right now, her panic was at DEFCON five and rising.
Charlotte went to the robe and pulled out the pyjamas she’d had to buy before she’d come here—she was used to sleeping in a t-shirt and undies. She’d wanted to pack light when she’d flown to Los Angeles from Australia and was worried she might be moving around a lot, so a small suitcase had seemed sensible to her. As a consequence, she didn’t have much to wear after dark, either to a nightclub or to bed.
As she took in the vast wardrobe where Jack stored his clothes, she was amazed at how many suits he had. They were all lined up, like he wasn’t a famous actor at all, but a businessman. They seemed to be waiting for him to choose them for his next meeting. She reached out and ran her fingers along the row of jackets. This whole room smelled of Jack; his cologne was light, but it was on everything. She glanced to the right at the custom-made shelving where he stored his shoes. The man had more shoes than anyone she’d ever known. She smiled as she looked at them all lined up, and the urge to rearrange them to see if it got a reaction out of him was strong. It passed as quickly as it arrived, though, as she realized she needed to stop stalling and get changed for bed.
The robe had no door, but he was already in bed, so he wouldn’t be popping his head in—would he? She shrugged and pulled off her shirt and slipped her pants down before she could totally freak herself out.
Stop being a baby. You’re just sleeping in the same bed, nothing else.
Charlotte undid the clasp of her bra, slid it off, and placed it on top of her suitcase. She’d need to unpack properly tomorrow, as he hadn’t told her where he wanted her to put her things.
Contracted For Love: Famous Love Series Page 5