JARED (Lane Brothers Book 4)

by Kristina Weaver

  She noticed she’d had several more missed calls and texts since they went down for breakfast but she wanted to make sure Thomas was okay first before responding to any of them, so she turned her phone off and stashed it in her pocket.

  “I wish we didn’t have to leave,” Thomas said, throwing some socks into the suitcase.

  “I know,” Sasha replied. “Me neither.”

  “It feels like stepping back into the lion’s den.”

  “You could always quit,” Sasha said with a smirk.

  “Don’t tempt me.” Thomas stopped what he was doing and turned to Sasha. He held her face in his hands and gave her an adoring gaze. “One day I will. Once Crystal is clean. But right now, her treatment is too expensive to quit. But I’ll give it all up for you.”

  Sasha smiled. “I’m patient. I can wait.”

  ***

  The flight to London took even longer than the one from Chicago had. Thomas and Sasha used the opportunity to have a marathon sex session in his bedroom. Something about it felt like the last time they would ever be at peace, and that made it all the more fantastic.

  When they landed, Pippa filled them in on the specifics of the arrangements she’d been making.

  “Sasha, we’re dropping you off to the Amore offices in Shoreditch. They have some amazing dresses for you to try on. Thomas, you’ll be coming with me to the hotel in Kensington for the London Weekly interview. Then we’ll reconvene for the award ceremony. Okay?”

  Thankfully, the paps hadn’t yet got wind of their arrival and they were able to pass through the airport and into the back of the car with little fanfare other than a few giggling girls asking for selfies.

  Even so, Sasha still felt a little nauseous about being back in the public eye. The feeling was even more pronounced when Pippa used the car journey to coach her on how to deal with the media’s intrusive questions.

  “Just politely decline to answer,” she said. “Tell them you’re here to support Thomas, and nothing more.”

  Suddenly the reality of everything seemed to hit her. Before she’d been thrust into the spotlight against her will. Now she was actively inviting it into her life. The Amore photo shoot hadn’t just been a one off experience, it had been the tip of the iceberg.

  The car dropped Sasha off in a graffitied backstreet buzzing with people. It was a world away from the tranquil holiday home and sunny beaches she’d become accustomed too. And thanks to the jet lag and multiple orgasms Thomas had given her on the plane, she was more than a little disorientated.

  She watched the car as it rounded the corner and disappeared from sight. There was a knot of apprehension forming in her stomach, one that told her that maybe things weren’t going to go as smoothly as she’d hoped.

  She entered the trendy warehouse style building and found herself in the company, once again, of Tina. Then she was stripping in front of them, being preened and prodded, dressed and undressed. Thanks to Tina’s complete lack of social skills, Sasha felt as though her body were a shop mannequin.

  She tried on several outfits before Tina settled on a daring cobalt blue lacy dress with a sheer skirt over matching blue knickers and impossibly high stilettos. Sasha thought how it was the same color as the dress she’d worn to her first interview with Thomas.

  “You have to exude female sexual prowess,” Tina said. “You cannot behave or dress like a wallflower. No one must think for a second that you are ashamed of the sex you shared with Thomas. In fact, you must be the opposite. Be proud. Every woman in the world is jealous of you. Show them why they should be.”

  Sasha wasn’t ashamed of that night she and Thomas had been filmed in his kitchen, she just wished it hadn’t been broadcast to the whole world. And she wished she could be doing it with him right now, rather than standing here being draped in fabric.

  When it came to the jewellery, Sasha’s breath was taken away. It was thousands of dollars worth. Quite the responsibility.

  She tried on necklaces, earrings, bracelets and rings. When Tina slipped one on her ring finger, Sasha frowned.

  “That’s not a good idea,” she said. “It will start rumors.”

  “We had strict instructions from Pippa. One ring on each finger.”

  Sasha knew better than to argue.

  Pippa had arranged for the hair and makeup people to work in the Amore offices. Several hours later, she was peened and coiffed to perfection and ready to be draped on Thomas’s arm as the ultimate accessory.

  As the car picked her up to be driven to the back alley to meet Thomas, Sasha wondered whether Thomas had really meant it when he said he would quit for her. She’d only had a taste of this world but she didn’t like it. As much as she enjoyed being made to look fabulous, she couldn’t help but feel hollow, as though her mind was going to waste. She needed to get back into work. She would go crazy if this was the backdrop to her and Thomas’s relationship.

  As Sasha travelled along in the back of the car, she remembered all the missed calls and messages she hadn’t got round to replying to. She turned on her cell phone. There were hundreds of missed calls and texts from her friends and family. As she listened to the voicemails and read the messages, a terrible picture began to unfold...

  The Amore photo shoot wasn’t just to show off the clothes Sasha was modelling. In fact, only one photo from the shoot appeared at all. The one of her and Thomas kissing in the pool.

  And there, photoshopped on her hand, the exact same ring she was now wearing.

  She and Thomas had apparently gotten engaged...

  Chapter Eighteen

  Thomas’s words from before echoed in Sasha’s mind. ‘In this world, you can trust no one. Do you understand me? No one.’

  She was fuming as she got into the shared car.

  “Sasha, you look stunning,” Thomas said.

  But she turned her cold gaze on him. “You absolute bastard.”

  The driver glanced in the rear-view mirror.

  Thomas frowned. “What am I supposed to have done?”

  “You went behind my back. You planned this whole thing with Pippa, didn’t you?”

  “What are you talking about.”

  “The engagement!”

  Thomas looked sheepish. “Ah. That.”

  “Yes. That. How could you do this to me?” The chilled Sasha she’d become on the island seemed to have disappeared completely.

  “It was arranged ages ago. When I was angry. I didn’t… I didn’t think about how you would feel. You’d agreed to do what we asked and Pippa suggested an engagement to distract everyone’s attention and give them something else to write about. I just went along with it.”

  “Did you even think about how this would make me look. With my mother? My friends? They think I’m a selfish bitch because of you.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “How long was this planned for?”

  “We arranged it while you were napping.”

  “On the plane? Within the first hour of me agreeing to this?”

  Thomas looked deeply ashamed. “Sasha, I’m sorry. But it’s too late now. The article’s out there.”

  “Why didn’t you pull it? When we started getting close, why didn’t you put a stop to it?”

  “It was too late by then.”

  “No it wasn’t. I pulled an article about you the day before going to print.”

  Thomas swiped his hand through his hair. “Look, I’m sorry okay? I messed up. What do you want me to do? Grovel.”

  Sasha narrowed her eyes. “I don’t have to go through with this,” she said, viciously. “I don’t have to go out there with you.”

  “No. You don’t,” Thomas replied. “But if you don’t then there’s no turning back for either of us. If you come, we still have a future. If you don’t...”

  “If I don’t we’re over? Because it would make you look bad? Ruin your public image? I thought I matter more to you than that.”

  “That’s not what this is about,” Thomas said, sounding e
xasperated.

  “Yes it is!” Sasha cried. “You’re expecting me to keep playing the happy couple after this?”

  “I don’t want you to play it, Sasha. I want you to be it. Being your husband, I don’t think anything would make me happier.”

  Sasha couldn’t get her head round what was happening. She shook her head, completely at a loss. “You mean you actually want to marry me? You actually want to be engaged?”

  “Yes.”

  Sasha was disgusted. “You didn’t even give me the ring! Pippa chose it!”

  Thomas looked deflated. “Okay. If you want to go, then go.”

  They’d arrived at the red carpet. Sasha looked out at the rows of awaiting paparazzi, ready to pounce on Thomas. It was his first public outing since the scandal.

  He needed her. He needed her support.

  Sasha took a deep breath.

  “I’ll go with you,” she said. “This one time. But there’ll be no pub lunch with Aunty Mabel. No country excursions, cucumber sandwiches or meeting cousins. I’ll walk your stupid red carpet with you, but then I’m going back home to put my life back together. This whole thing was a mistake.”

  Thomas’s expression was pained. “All of it?”

  “All of it,” Sasha replied bluntly. “I’ll be on the first flight home tomorrow morning. Do you understand?”

  Thomas worried his hands in his lap. Finally, with a long exhalation, he said, “If that’s what you want.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  The cameras flashed incessantly as they emerged from the car. Sasha played her role perfectly, though her hand in Thomas’s was limp and unresponsive. She pouted for the camera, gave him adoring gazes and laughed at his jokes. She didn’t squirm when he guided her along the red carpet with his hand on the small of his back. She shook hands with other celebrities and directors and made polite conversation with everyone Thomas introduced her to.

  Whenever anyone asked a question about the engagement or asked to see the ring, Sasha politely declined, reminding the paps that she was there to support Thomas. But there was one question that threw her for six and made her facade slip.

  “How do you feel about Crystal Carpenter checking out of rehab?”

  Thomas squeezed Sasha’s hand, a warning for her not to react. But how could she not? After everything she had gone through, the idea that Crystal was back out and about was really the icing on the cake.

  “We’re not here to comment on anything personal,” Thomas said diplomatically.

  Inside the venue, Thomas disappeared and returned with a dashingly handsome gray haired man. “Peter, I’d like you to meet my partner, Sasha Jones. She’s hoping to become a journalist. Sasha, this is Peter Yorkson from the London Weekly.”

  Peter shook her hand. “Sasha, I’d love to see some of your work sometime.” He handed her a business card. “Give me a call.”

  Sasha smiled sweetly and stashed the card in her purse. When Thomas sat, she hissed in his ear, “What was that?”

  “You wanted a job didn’t you?” Thomas replied, keeping his face as close to hers as possible. “To get your life back in order?”

  Sasha pretended to giggle, as though he’d just told her a joke. “Do you not remember me telling you about how much I despise nepotism?” she said, smiling sweetly.

  Thomas grinned back and spoke between his teeth. “It’s hardly nepotism if you bump into the guy, is it?”

  Sasha let out a fake laugh. “When does this fucking show begin?”

  Just then, the lights dimmed and music struck up. Laser beams flashed. Two presenters took to the stage - a man and woman who were famous in England but hadn’t made it big across the pond. That was one advantage to the whole thing, Sasha thought. There’s was no one for her to get star-struck over.

  The award show was long and arduous and Sasha began to feel an overwhelming sense of relief that she wasn’t going to be a part of this world once the evening was over. Chris had been right when he’d called her shallow. She’d got swept away with all the glamour but it was essentially meaningless. Thomas Lloyd could satisfy her body but not her mind, not her ambition. She’d let him pull her away from the only thing that had ever mattered to her - her career.

  Just then, the presenter announced the category Thomas was nominated for. The camera’s panned to their table and Sasha was careful to give him her adoring, supportive gaze. To no one’s surprise, Thomas won the award. Sasha watched him go to the stage to collect the gold statue. As he went, she felt her phone vibrate. It was a message from Pippa. It said simply, ‘Jackpot.’

  Sasha grabbed her wine and downed the rest of the glass. She poured herself another.

  Thomas returned to the table. “Right. We’ve done our bit. Shall we get out of this place?”

  Sasha brought her lips up to her glass. “But I’m starting to have fun,” she said sarcastically.

  Thomas leaned over. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough to drink?”

  Sasha gave him a look. “I don’t know, darling. It’s probably up to you to tell me. No, no, actually it’s up to Pippa, isn’t it? Shall I call her and ask whether it will damage your public image if I have another glass?”

  She’d expected Thomas to snipe back at her. Instead, he smirked. “I’d forgotten how much I loved that bad bitch side of you.”

  Sasha glowered as her loins betrayed her. “Don’t you fucking start.”

  Thomas wiggled his eyebrows. “Why don’t you tell me off.” Then he lowered his voice. “Intern.”

  Sasha inhaled. She knew what he was doing. He was making sure she wouldn’t leave him. He was drugging her with his sexual prowess, making it impossible to resist him.

  “What do you want, Thomas? One last fuck?”

  “One last fuck for luck.” He smiled. “When’s your plane back to America?”

  “7 a.m.”

  “How many orgasms do you think I can give you between now and then?”

  He didn’t need to say any more. The two left the award ceremony and headed back to their hotel. One last fuck for luck...

  Chapter Twenty

  They fumbled with one another’s clothes. Something about knowing this would be the last time made it all the more arousing. But they weren’t here for loving sex, not this time. The loving part had flown at the window when Thomas went behind Sasha’s back. This was about pure sensation.

  In many ways, it felt like the first time they’d ever had sex. Sasha told Thomas exactly what to do, where to touch, when to lick and how. She wanted as much from Thomas Lloyd as she could get, as many orgasms as he could give her. He seemed to relish the challenge.

  They were two orgasms in when there was a knock at the door.

  Sasha let her head drop between her arms. “Absolutely fucking typical.”

  Thomas pulled out of her and wrapped a nightgown around his body. He went to the door and looked through the peephole. “It’s Pippa.”

  “Tell her I’m not playing her game anymore,” Sasha said.

  But Thomas ignored her request. He opened the door to Pippa.

  She strode right in, her heels clacking against the floor. Sasha’s nakedness didn’t seem to faze her one bit. She crossed her arms and glared at Sasha.

  “What?” Sasha said. “Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something?”

  “I hear you’re dropping us. Leaving us in the lurch.”

  “How did you find that out?” Sasha replied, coolly. She wasn’t going to rise to any more of this bullshit.

  “Because you booked a fucking plane ticket in your own fucking name,” Pippa cried.

  Sasha stared her down. “Yes. I’m leaving. And it’s because of you. Because of your stupid engagement stunt.”

  “My stupid engagement stunt was to save your arse, darling.”

  “Really? And how’s that?”

  Pippa was furious. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and held it up to Sasha. “Because of this.”

  Sasha took the phone and glanced at t
he internet page on display. It was Chris.

  “He’s selling his story,” Pippa said. “Everyone’s fascinated by this small town girl who landed Thomas Lloyd and Chris is prepared to tell them everything. About your romance. Your ambitions. Your short comings. Your supposed abandonment of your family and transformation into a fame hungry whore.”

  “No,” Sasha gasped. “Chris would… he would never do that.”

  “Well, he did and he has. He’s going to tell them about how you cheated on Thomas with him. You’re about to become a reviled woman. So, the way I look at it, you’re still in the game. My game. And that means a visit to the great British countryside, cucumber sandwiches and Aunt Mabel and it means me cancelling your flight home.”

  “You can’t do that.”

  “I already have.”

  “I thought you were my friend, Pippa,” Sasha said. “And now you’re bribing me? You’re… you’re a bitch!”

  “Thank you. That’s about the highest compliment someone like you could give someone like me. I’m a bitch who owns you. I hope you realize that you’re nothing without me.”

  Sasha folded her arms. She wasn’t about to be manipulated into something she didn’t want to be a part of. And the best way to fight fire, was with fire…

  “You think I’m nothing? What about everything I know? Isn’t that worth something? Because it wouldn’t it be pretty disastrous to your PR business if this whole thing got out. If people realized this was all a big charade.”

  “This thing won’t get out.”

  “It will if I call up Kelly right now. She’d just love to hear my side of the story.”

  Pippa laughed. “A fall-proof plan, Sasha. Except for this…” She held up a piece of paper.

  “What is that?” Sasha said frowning.

  “It’s a gagging order.”