Contracted For Love: Famous Love Series

by Tracey Pedersen

  “Okay. Leave both at home and we’ll buy you a new one, if we want to go swimming.” He smiled at her, then—the first sign of friendliness he’d shown since Reid had called out that Charlotte had great tits as he cackled on his way to his car.

  “Alright, but you should be aware of one detail.” She took a step closer to the hallway and stopped with her hand on the wall, still looking at him, and Jack waited for her to continue. Before she disappeared into the darkness, she said, “I promise I wasn’t trying to get Reid’s attention. I only jumped in the pool for you.”

  ***

  Flying first class was a new experience for Charlotte. She sat, wide-eyed, in her seat next to Jack as she sipped her water. “You know they’ll give you wine or champagne?” Jack asked as he sipped a beer and flicked through the in-flight magazine. “You could have had any drink you wanted.”

  “I know. I try to only drink water when I fly, though.”

  Jack nodded as he kept reading the magazine. They’d been flying for around two hours and Charlotte still felt shell-shocked that they’d been shown to the front of the plane. When he’d said he’d pay for a trip to Paris, she hadn’t expected it to be in total luxury. It wasn’t what she was used to, and she felt out of place. He’d whispered to her to act like she was confident, which had made her laugh and feel a little better.

  “Can I tell you something?”

  He closed the magazine and returned it to its place before turning his full attention on her. “Sure.”

  She bit her lip. It had been her secret up until now, but it seemed like as good a time as any to tell someone. “The truth is, I don’t drink.”

  “Not at all?”

  “Nope. Not a drop.”

  “Interesting. I’ll have to tell Reid—I’m sure he’ll lose interest fast, once he knows he can’t get you hammered and take advantage of you.”

  She frowned at him. Bringing up Reid again hadn’t been her intention. “He’d do that?”

  “Oh yes, he would. He’s not the type of guy to take no for an answer.”

  “What does that mean, exactly?”

  “Just that he’ll push a woman to her limits, and usually that’s enough to get his way. He’s relentless.”

  “That sounds awfully close to something bad.”

  “Oh no, don’t get me wrong; he’d never go that far. He’ll come outrageously close, though, and won’t give up until he’s absolutely certain he’s not getting anywhere. You don’t want to be the woman he turns his spotlight on. I’ve seen them and they don’t resist for long.”

  “Did you really think I was interested in him?”

  “I saw the way you looked when he licked your hand. I’ve seen that look a hundred times.”

  Charlotte decided to dig for a few details, now that she’d made her confession. She had him as a captive audience for the next ten hours or so, she might as well make the most of it. “Why are you part of that band? You don’t seem to fit.”

  “You don’t think I fit in with them?”

  “Not at all. Do you?” she looked closely at him to see if he was being sarcastic. Deciding that he was serious, though, she pressed on. “You don’t look like them. No makeup, no rock star clothing, and no tattoos that I’ve been able to see.” She smiled, knowing she’d not seen any part of his body. “They are classic rock stars, while you’re kind of clean-cut in comparison. I think it’s an odd match up, that’s all.”

  “You need to come to a concert.”

  “Oh.” She bit her lip, “Are you different at concerts? More like them?”

  “I would say that’s a big yes.”

  “Hmm… makes sense, then,” she said under her breath as she returned her empty glass to a passing hostess.

  “What makes sense?”

  She wondered if he’d be angry if she told him what she thought. Fuck it. I’m not about to start being prissy, now. “Don’t get mad, but it makes sense why you’re struggling to make your mark with your music.”

  “You lost me.”

  “You need to be your true self. If you’re dressing up to look like them for the concert, you’re faking it. The four weirdos with the strange names live and breathe those personalities every minute of every day—you only have to spend a few minutes with them to know that. If you just put on a costume for a couple of hours and act out a character, there’s a distinct difference. Your fans can tell.”

  Jack sat in silence as the seconds dragged out. She worried she’d offended him so soon after they’d declared an uneasy truce. The pilot announced that they’d be experiencing some turbulence and the seatbelt light came on. A flurry of activity followed as each passenger clipped in and the cabin crew checked the aisles. Charlotte didn’t have anything to put away so she continued to watch Jack digest what she’d told him.

  “Char, I think you might have stumbled on the answer.” His mouth hung open and his eyes were wide. The incredulous look on his face told her that her easy assessment had never occurred to him before today.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Collecting their bags was an interesting, new experience for Charlotte, too—one she wasn’t likely to forget easily. She walked a step behind Jack and they followed the signs to the baggage claim area. They were the first ones off the plane, and their bags should have dropped onto the baggage carousel first, along with the rest of the first class passengers’ belongings.

  As they waited, Charlotte noticed several people taking photos of Jack with their phones. They tried to hide it and pretend they were taking selfies, but it was obvious they were taking shots of him to show their friends. Jack glanced at her and held out his hand, which she gratefully took. As always, when he was nice to her in public, she suspected it had more to do with the assembled audience than with her.

  “The start of the holiday snaps, huh?” she whispered as she leaned in close to him.

  “I guess so. You should get used to it. Unless we hide in our hotel room, it will go on all week.”

  “How do you ignore them so well?”

  “Lots of experience.” He moved to put his arm around her. “I always imagine that, if the roles were reversed, I’d be excited to see a celebrity, too.”

  “Hmm… I guess. I’ve seen celebrities in Australia, in the supermarket and the street. I always pretend I haven’t seen them and let them get on with their day.”

  “Well, you’re one of the few.” They waited for their bags and the first few travelled up the conveyor belt. People moved in to claim their luggage and get a closer look at Jack.

  The passengers from the rest of the plane were arriving, now, and they crowded around the conveyor belt. Charlotte noticed more and more people looking at Jack and whispering amongst themselves. He smiled at anyone who made eye contact and continued to watch the conveyor as more bags joined the first few. He took out his phone, pulled Charlotte close, and snapped a selfie of the two of them.

  “Really? A selfie? Tell me again why you didn’t woo a Kardashian.”

  He laughed and kissed her on the forehead, immediately putting her on edge. Resisting the urge to narrow her eyes at him, Charlotte leaned in to whisper in his ear again, “Feel free not to lay it on too thick.”

  “Now, now, my lovely fiancé, don’t be like that. We promised the agents vacation photos. Might as well make them worth the cash the photographers will get from it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He smiled again at her innocence. “You just wait. Once we get out of immigration, there’ll be professional paparazzi. I guarantee news has spread by now that we’re here.”

  “That you’re here,” she reminded him. “I could just trundle along behind quite happily.”

  “Maybe a week ago, but not anymore.” His brow creased. “Make sure you do stay with me, please. I don’t want the crowd to get between us.”

  “Okay,” she scoffed, “but I don’t think that’s going to be an issue.”

  An older woman walked up and touched Jack’s arm. He narrowed his eye
s at Charlotte and pasted on his best fan smile as he turned. “Can I please have a photo, Jack? My granddaughter will never believe I met you.”

  “Sure.” He smiled for her picture, and it was as though the woman’s bravery had started an avalanche.

  “Jack, here can we have a quick photo?”

  “Jack, can we please get a selfie?”

  “Can you sign my shirt?”

  “Can you sign my suitcase?”

  Charlotte gradually got pushed to the side and she finally stepped cleanly away to keep watch for their bags. A woman sidled up beside her and looked sympathetic. “It must be hard to share him with the public,” she said quietly.

  “It’s not so bad.” Charlotte replied with a smile. “He does love his fans, and he’s always so patient with the crowds. He stayed for half an hour in Vegas to sign autographs a week ago, when we were just walking up the Strip.”

  “You seem quite smitten, dear.”

  Charlotte rolled her eyes on the inside. At least her acting skills were getting a run today. “Of course. Who wouldn’t love Jack Fawkner? Have you heard his new music? It’s amazing,” she gushed.

  You owe me big time, Jack.

  “I haven’t heard it. I think it’s really for the young ones who follow him.”

  “Oh, no, not at all. Get yourself a copy of the new album when you get home—you’ll love it, I promise. Just ignore the cover art, or you’ll be scared to death!”

  The woman laughed. “Can I quote you on that?”

  Charlotte finally caught sight of her bag coming through the flaps of the conveyor belt and smiled at the woman as she stepped away. It wasn’t heavy, so she stepped forward, ready to grab it when it got close. She stood, wondering how long Jack’s bag would be, when she heard him excusing himself behind her. His arms reached around her and grabbed her bag before she even had a chance to reach for it.

  She looked up at him as he smiled at her and put her bag on the floor. “You didn’t think I’d leave you to get the luggage, did you?”

  “I thought you looked busy back there.”

  “I was keeping one eye on the conveyor and one eye on you.”

  “Well, those fans will be surprised when they see the photos of you all cross-eyed, then.”

  He laughed and put his arm around her as they waited for his bag. She snuggled in, making sure that anyone standing nearby would know they were together. It was best to get this done for the press as early as possible, since they were due to announce their engagement when they came home from this trip. Finally, his bag appeared, he scooped it up, and they headed for the immigration line.

  After a few more selfies with fans, they were approached by an airport official, who led them to a separate line, and they were whisked straight through the process. When they exited the doors and headed toward their waiting car, the predicted paparazzi descended on them, shouting questions and snapping photographs. Jack held tight to Charlotte’s hand as he smiled and answered their questions.

  As the driver loaded their suitcases into the boot of the car, Jack turned around and wrapped his arm around Charlotte again. “I’d like to introduce you all to my girlfriend, Charlotte Shipton. Thanks for all your questions today. We’ll be spending a quiet week in Paris; I hope not to see any of you lurking around corners.” He smiled and the assembled group laughed as he opened the car door for her. After she slipped into the back seat and the door slammed shut, she let out an exhausted sigh.

  They were finally in Paris!

  ***

  When the door opened to their hotel suite, Charlotte let out a little gasp and rushed to the window. Their room looked out over the Eiffel Tower, and they had a perfect view of the surrounding fountains and gardens. She turned to look at Jack as he tipped the porter and closed the door behind him. “This is beautiful. Thank you so much, Jack. I didn’t expect you to book somewhere so nice.”

  “It’s nothing. This is where I stay when I come to Paris.”

  “You’ve been here before?”

  “Yep—a couple of times, actually.” He joined her at the window. “Never with a woman on vacation, mind you. Only ever for work.”

  “What a shame. You can play tourist with me, then.”

  “I can. I’m reluctant to ask you this, since I remember your first night in Vegas, but did you have plans to explore, or can we order dinner and relax until tomorrow?”

  The glint in her eye made him expect the worst, but Charlotte surprised him. “I’m fine to stay in. The airport overwhelmed me a little bit. If you say it’s going to be like that all week, then I need a decent night’s sleep to prepare myself.” She walked to the bedroom door and glanced in at the beautifully-made bed. “Looks like we’re slumming it in a queen-size, tonight. Are you sure you can keep far enough away from me in that?” Charlotte grinned at him as he crossed the room to stand in front of her.

  “You sure you want me to?” Jack reached up and gently touched her chin. “Did you bring pyjamas in that tiny suitcase of yours?” He was so close that she could feel his breath on her hair as he waited for her response.

  “I did, although I thought maybe you’d prefer the white bikini.”

  He snorted and she was glad the tension in the air had been broken. “I hope you left that thing at home, as requested.”

  “Yes. I have an outfit much better, though. You’ll have to wait and see what it is.” She pulled her suitcase onto the end of the bed with a giggle.

  She’d packed for this trip with two thoughts in mind: tease the crap out of the outwardly-calm Jack Fawkner and make sure the room attendants had no doubt that the two of them were together.

  Just wait until you see what I’ve brought to Paris to accomplish those goals.

  ***

  When they’d eaten and Charlotte had showered, she slipped out of the bathroom with her hair wrapped in a towel. Jack was reading the news on the internet and scowling at the screen. He looked pissed.

  “Something wrong?” she asked.

  He didn’t look up at her and kept reading from the screen. “Did you talk to a reporter at the airport?”

  “Of course not. I was with you the whole time.”

  “So you didn’t tell Michelle Graves from the Paris Tribunal that, and I quote, ‘Rough Desire’s cover art will scare you to death?’” He looked up at her as she stood with her mouth open in surprise. Before she could respond, his own mouth dropped open as he took in her outfit. “What the hell are you wearing?”

  “Clothes, Jack. These are clothes.” She suddenly felt exposed, when just a few moments ago, she’d felt sexy and empowered. “I did say that to a woman at the airport, but I didn’t think she was a reporter.”

  “What were you thinking? Why would you say that about the cover art?”

  Charlotte crossed the room with her hands in front of her. “Now, hold on, Jack. Don’t you dare pick a fight and ruin our holiday. Let’s discuss this calmly before you lose your mind. Please?”

  He bit his lip and she watched as his eyes widened when she sat on the couch across from him. Her camisole was, indeed, skimpy, and the sight of her breasts spilling out the top was having the desired effect on him. She couldn’t believe her efforts were about to be ruined and that they were going to have another argument.

  “Okay, tell me your side.” He said in grudging agreement as she breathed a sigh of relief.

  Disaster averted.

  “What I actually said to that woman, in response to her comment that your music was for kids, was that she would absolutely love it. I told her to get herself a copy of the new album when she got home, but to ignore the cover, as it would scare her to death. I meant that it would scare her off and she wouldn’t give the music a chance—not whatever she’s made it out to be.”

  He stared at her a while longer, careful to look her in the eye and not let his eyes wander south. Finally, he took pity on her. “Have we learned something today?”

  “Yes. You can’t trust anyone, apparently! I thought I w
as talking to a fan of yours!”

  “Don’t trust anyone, unless you know for sure who they are. It can only end badly.”

  “I’m beginning to see what you mean about guarding your privacy. How can you live like this all the time?”

  “I told you: you get used to it.”

  “I don’t know if I want to get used to it.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Charlotte stretched out in the bed as the sun streamed into the room. It was bright and warm; they’d forgotten to close the curtains last night.

  Too busy being awkward with each other.

  She rolled over to look at Jack, and a shiver passed across her skin as she found him awake and watching her.

  “Hey,” she said, trying not to feel shy under his gaze.

  “Morning. What would you like to do today?”

  “Visit the Eiffel Tower, of course. What else?”

  He laughed and rolled to face her. They were just inches apart and the air was suddenly charged with more than the dust particles floating in the sunlight. “Of course, you go straight for the obvious attraction.”

  “I like an obvious attraction.” Silence descended on them once the words left her lips. She stared at him, so close that she could just move forward and kiss…

  “Time to go, then,” he announced, breaking the spell as he pushed back the covers and disappeared into the bathroom. As the door closed behind him, Charlotte flopped onto the fluffy pillows and covered her face with her hands.

  What the hell am I doing? Why am I flirting with him? He’s not remotely into me.

  After throwing off the covers, she went to the drawers to take out some clothes. She’d been fascinated with watching Jack unpack his items into the drawers the night before. Normally, she’d live straight from her suitcase, since they’d be there for just for a week, but he’d informed her that would not do. She’d chuckled as she’d unpacked her few items into the dresser. It had hardly seemed worth the effort, but at least she knew why Jack’s suitcase was so big, now: he appeared to have brought along every item of clothing he owned.