Tangled: A New Adult Romance Boxed Set (12 Book Bundle of Billionaires, Bad Boys, and Royalty)

by Lakes, Krista

  “Hey, I’m having a great time. Rachel and Dean have been keeping me busy. I saw the Statue of Liberty today. I never thought I was going to see it, let alone have a special tour. I’m finding a routine, and we’ll make this work. Rachel is even coming up with a way for me to help you get through all this,” I said, motioning to the crazy stacks of papers threatening to overwhelm his desk.

  “What is she having you do?” Jack’s brows came together as he stood and moved towards the blinking light on his desk.

  “I’m not sure yet. I told her I was going to go stir crazy if I didn’t have something productive to do. I’ve been here almost two weeks and I don’t want to be a burden. I want to help,” I explained as I began to put the dishes back on the tray.

  Jack beamed at me. “You are the exact opposite of a burden. I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have these evenings to look forward to.” The little light flashed faster and he glared at it.

  “Will you be coming home tonight or sleeping here again?” I asked as I headed towards the door. I realized he was a busy man, especially right now, and that he often found it easier to spend the night at his office. If he did come back to the apartment, he always came to see me. Two nights before, he even slept in my room. We had intended for more, but he fell asleep as soon as he hit the pillow and I enjoyed watching him sleep. It wasn’t much, but I treasured any time I got to spend with him.

  “I don’t know yet. Depends on how long this takes.” He jerked his head towards the angry flashing light. “Don’t wait up for me.”

  “Come wake me up if you do make it back. I have more pictures of that dog to show you.”

  I pushed the trolley to the door and left, hearing him pick up the phone and switch on the commanding voice he never used with me. I waved goodbye to Jeannette as I headed towards the gold elevators leading back to the main entrance. The older woman waved back as she spoke into her headset. I was quickly becoming accustomed to the silent waves and the smiles over business phone conversations.

  Once in the elevator, I hit the button and leaned on the ornate sides. I was having a wonderful time in New York, but some days, I barely understood what I was doing here. These dinner visits were the highlight of my day. I knew Jack and I had a connection, but I wasn’t sure if we could ever actually make this work. There wasn’t anything for me to do, except spend Jack’s money and bother Rachel, and neither of those things were in my nature. I needed something to do.

  ***

  I lay in bed, comfy in my worn PJs, debating opening the newest copy of The Press laying on my nightstand. I was emblazoned on the cover, thankfully wearing one of the beautiful outfits Rachel deemed suitable, walking around the city. It had been on one of my recent shopping excursions with Rachel. She wielded a credit card like a magic wand and enjoyed finding things for me to wear. If nothing else, our excursions gave me something to do, and I was forming a friendship with Rachel. I had stopped looking at price tags after the first store rang up my three pairs of pants at more than a month’s pay with overtime. Rachel never batted an eyelash at the numbers, letting the purchases pile up in the chauffeured car.

  I flipped open the cover, landing on the article about me. Rachel had placed a large sticky note over the first paragraph with the words, “are you sure you want to read this?” I smiled and lifted it off the page. I liked Rachel. She had a subtle sense of humor that caught me off guard. She was fiercely protective of Jack, and the love and respect she had for him only made me like her more. She had grown up in a smaller town than mine, and we spent much of our shopping excursions swapping stories about home. She was quickly becoming the older sister I never had, and I was more than grateful to have her with me in this strange place.

  Emma LaRue—the mysterious woman who has stolen the heart of a billionaire! See what her friends and family have to say! exclaimed the headline. The “friends and family” were people I barely knew. My real friends and family had signed confidentiality agreements and weren’t speaking to the press without approval. Emma’s best friend from elementary school, Hannah Smithson, remembers her being a shy and studious girl. “I always got along really well with Emma. She was easy to talk to.” Hannah? I hadn’t spoken to her since third grade and we were convinced there was a unicorn in the woods behind the school. I shook my head at the lengths the tabloids were going to in order to get a story.

  The magazine had a few more pictures, obviously snapped from sidewalks as I hurried out of the winter air into stores. I wondered how cold those photographers had gotten waiting for me to emerge from a store. Spring was on its way, but winter still had an icy grip on the city’s weather. The last page of the article had a short note at the bottom: Do you have any information on Emma LaRue? The Press would love to hear your stories! Call to inquire about our payments for photos! Jack’s father’s policy of do nothing and keep everyone quiet was working so far, but the entire tone of the article made it clear that readers were clamoring for more. It was a strange feeling.

  I set the magazine back on the nightstand and checked my phone. I loved my new phone. I had spent the better part of a day setting it all up and playing with all the games and features, and I still found new and fun things to do with it. I had one unread message from Jack.

  I grinned and opened it like it was a present.

  Not going to make it home tonight.

  Not quite the present I was hoping for. I could feel the pout on my face as the question rose in my mind again. What was I doing here? While I loved my dinners with Jack, my days were full of boredom. Rachel promised to find me a job at the company so that I could at least feel useful, but even then, working for Jack wasn’t what I wanted to do with my life. I missed my job at the Vet Clinic, missed working with animals and the people that came with them. For the millionth time that week, I wondered what was going to happen once all the publicity of our pseudo-marriage was finally sorted. I knew Jack had lawyers looking into the validity of the marriage, but we both knew it wouldn’t stand up in a court of law. We had never intended it to.

  My phone chirped. I’m going to make it up to you though.

  How?

  Tomorrow night. Wear something fancy. I’m taking you to La Maison.

  I grinned. La Maison wasn’t the fanciest restaurant in New York, but it was pretty close. More important than the fanciness of the restaurant was the significance it held for Jack. La Maison was the restaurant that his father always took his mother for special anniversaries. It was where Daniel proposed to Bianca, so having Jack take me there meant something.

  Do I get you all to myself?

  I told Jeannette she’s fired if she interrupts us tomorrow.

  I’ll be there with bells on. I typed back. I hit send and turned off the light, snuggling into the soft down comforter. I would have to have Rachel help me pick out something; tomorrow was going to be a great day.

  Chapter 16

  I was a princess, a beautiful, only slightly slutty, princess. I smoothed the fabric of my dress over my knees as the car stopped in front of La Maison. The driver hurried out and opened the door, helping me out onto the sidewalk. I saw the people on the street turn and look at me, and was once again glad Rachel had helped me pick out my outfit.

  The dress was a fitted black fabric that somehow shone purple in the light and had a slit up my thigh that my father would have considered indecent. It was made by a designer whose name I could barely pronounce, but who Rachel said was the biggest thing in fashion right now. I took a step and wobbled, but the driver reached out a hand to steady me. Rachel had chosen the shoes as well—black strappy stilettos that made me feel as tall as a New York skyscraper, but not quite as stable. Between the slit and the shoes, my legs looked long enough to make swimsuit models jealous.

  My hair was piled in effortless looking curls that cascaded down my back. It had taken the hairdresser almost two hours and was anything but effortless. Rachel had procured me a diamond necklace with matching dangling earrings that I could
n’t afford if I used every paycheck in my lifetime. The jewelry was gorgeous, but I had this nagging fear that the earrings were going to slip out of my ears, or the chain would break on the necklace and I would lose one of the sparkling stones. I could just see them falling off and bouncing down the street as I scrambled to chase them in my insane heels. The tabloid headlines would be spectacular. As a result, I checked impulsively every minute or two to make sure the jewels hadn’t abandoned me.

  The restaurant was in a tall brick building from the 1920s. It screamed old money, and it was beautiful. I stepped inside, glad of the warmth in the restaurant. Someone took the simple black wrap Rachel had chosen to complete my ensemble and we headed into the main part of the restaurant.

  Every eye in the restaurant followed as the maître d’ escorted me to the table where Jack was waiting. I sent a silent, Thank you, up to Rachel for making sure that they all saw something fashionable and worthy of a billionaire.

  I suddenly understood how Cinderella felt arriving at the ball. Every head in the restaurant turned and watched as I floated gracefully through the tables. For once in my life though, I didn’t care that they were looking. The dress gleamed in purple highlights as I approached the only eyes that I cared about. Jack stood as he saw me, his mouth hanging open slightly. Our eyes connected, and I was Cinderella meeting my Prince.

  Jack moved to greet me, pulling out my chair and waiting on me like a gentleman. As I approached the table, Jack reached his hand out for mine, to guide me into my chair and I reached back for him. Time slowed, and for a brief second, everything was perfect. I never touched his hand though, as a guest at the next table suddenly pivoted and took my picture.

  The flash was blinding and I stumbled in my ridiculous shoes. I caught myself on the back of the chair, lights suddenly flashing from all directions. Jack had the first man’s camera in his hands, but more popped up, their flashes lighting up the room like broken lightning.

  Cameras were everywhere, the waiters and guests making everything chaotic. There were too many cameras pointed in my direction. I panicked and turned to escape back the way I came, but the flashes were everywhere. I took a step forward, but a light went off directly in my eyes and I ran directly into something hard. Wheeling to catch myself, my shoes betrayed me and I fell to the ground. I came down hard on my wrist, a yelp of pain escaping. The restaurant went quiet except for the clicks and buzzes of cameras.

  Suddenly strong arms surrounded me, picking me up and scooping me away. I buried my face into Jack’s chest, smelling his cologne, feeling his arms tighten protectively around me as he whisked me away towards the kitchen. His chest vibrated with a growl and I didn’t dare remove my face from the protection of his jacket. I could still hear the flashes popping as we disappeared behind the serving door and the startled yells of kitchen staff as Jack barreled through towards the back alley.

  He stopped at the back door, the only sounds following us were of the kitchen staff chopping and sautéing. The photographers were yelling at the kitchen door, but security held the door closed. Jack set me down gently, making sure my feet were firmly planted before pulling out his phone and hitting a number.

  “In the alley! Now!” he growled before slamming the phone back into his jacket pocket. I kept holding onto him, my fingers clinging to the starched white fabric of his dress shirt. A car peeled into the alley and Jack opened the back door and hurried me out into the blustering winter night, carefully shielding me from the wind as we stepped to the car.

  “Are you alright?” He asked once we were in the car, his voice low and gruff. I couldn’t see his face in the dimness of the car, but I could hear the anger in his voice. I nodded.

  “I think so. I hurt my wrist, but, I think it will be alright,” I said as I held onto the offending wrist with my opposite hand. It had a dull ache, but nothing a couple of pain relievers and a night’s sleep wouldn’t fix.

  “Let me see,” he said gently. He reached over and took my wrist in his hands. They were so warm compared to the cold outside. He squeezed gently, his fingers searching for any injury.

  “You’re shaking. Carl, turn up the heat!”

  “I forgot my wrap at the restaurant,” I said quietly, suddenly remembering I didn’t have it. With my free hand, I checked the earrings and necklace to make sure I still had them. I felt a small sigh of relief escape my lungs at finding the jewels still secured to my body. Jack kept running his fingers along the sensitive skin of my inner wrist, making me forget the pain. It didn’t hurt anymore, but I didn’t take my wrist back from him.

  “I’ll send someone to fetch it later.” His fingers stopped but he held onto my wrist.

  “What happened back there anyway?” I asked. I was finally starting to feel warm, the air blowing out of the car heater getting the winter out of the car. I couldn’t stop shaking though.

  “I made a mistake.” His voice was gruff, full of anger under the surface.

  “What do you mean? There’s no way you could have known those paparazzi were going to be there like that. I mean, they chase me everywhere.” I tried to put a smile into my voice, but I knew it was still shaky.

  “I have eaten at that restaurant a hundred times. When I made the reservations, I didn’t even think about their security. I should have let my security check the place out, but the manager said they had sufficient security for us. I didn’t have Rachel do it because I wanted to do this myself.” He held my wrist up. “I should have let her set it up. It is my fault you got hurt.”

  “Jack, it isn’t your fault that I’m a klutz and I tripped—”

  “No,” he said, cutting me off. “This happened because of me. The paparazzi have been after you since the moment they found out about you. I made the reservations and didn’t get enough security. This never would have happened if I were anyone else. This could have been much worse. You got hurt because of who I am. This isn’t fair to you. I am so sorry Emma.” His words never faltered, coming out sure and smooth, but I could hear the guilt threatening to overwhelm him.

  “Jack, I don’t blame you. This could have happened to anyone.”

  He carefully placed my wrist back in my lap and then pulled his hands away from me, as though he were afraid he would hurt me again.

  “I’m sorry I put you in this position Emma.” All I could see was his silhouette in the dark, but his voice was all business. He never used that tone with me.

  “Jack,” I started but I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to talk to the businessman side of him. I fell quiet as the car turned into the parking structure for the penthouse.

  Jack slid out and opened the door, helping me out as I tried not to trip over the dress. He let go of my hand as soon as I was free of the car, dropping it like it burned. I stepped towards the elevators, turning to see if he was going to follow, but he climbed back into the car.

  “I’m going to have Rachel increase your security detail. I don’t want this happening again.” There was a coolness to his voice that I didn’t recognize. I stepped back towards the car and tried to smile.

  “Will you come up and join me for some dinner upstairs? I think I saw some soup in the kitchen,” I tried.

  “No. I’m going to go back to work. I think I’ll be staying at the office again tonight.” He reached for the car door, preparing to close it.

  “Oh,” I nodded. I ignored the ache growing in my chest. “If you get done early, you know where to find me.”

  He nodded, avoiding eye contact as he closed the door. I stepped up onto the curb and the car turned and drove away. I couldn’t see him through the tinted glass, but something inside of me cracked. I called the elevator and stepped in alone. What was supposed to have been a beautiful, magical, romantic evening, had turned into something sour, dark... and angry.

  Chapter 17

  An insistent buzzing woke me. I kept my head buried in my pillow and fumbled around on the nightstand trying to find the off switch for my phone. I didn’t have to be u
p yet, and I still felt groggy and disappointed from the night before.

  My phone slipped out of my fingers and clattered to the floor, still buzzing like an angry hornet. I thought about leaving it, but someone started pounding on my door. There was no way I was going to be able to sleep through the phone and the knocking on my door.

  “It’s open,” I yelled, rolling onto my back and then throwing my feet off the bed. This was not the way I wanted to be woken up.

  “You need to get up. Now,” Rachel commanded as she barged into my room. I was about to complain, but the stormy look on her face kept the words inside. She stalked over to my closet and began tossing clothing onto my bed.

  “What’s going on?” I stood up and stifled a yawn before catching a satin dress shirt with my head.

  “The Saunders!” She said it like it was an earthquake or an alien invasion. The finality and doom in her voice, combined with her sudden nervousness, made me go cold. “You need to get up and get dressed right now.”

  I grabbed the suit she thrust at me and grabbed at the shirt that had fallen around my shoulders and scampered into the bathroom. I hurried through my morning routine, dressing quickly in the expensive dress suit. Rachel had a pair of stylish heels ready for me when I emerged. They were surprisingly comfortable and accented the outfit nicely. I glanced at myself in the full length mirror as Rachel pushed me out the door. Rachel had done a fantastic job shopping for me. I was amazed at how properly fitted clothes instead of baggy sweats actually made me look like a real woman instead of a lumpy sack of potatoes.

  I hurried down the hallway after Rachel, trying desperately not to trip in my heels. Despite being fairly low and comfortable, I still felt wobbly on them. Especially after my incident with heels last night, I wasn’t keen on any shoe that wasn’t a sneaker.