Jan shook her head. “You’re not in a dress. You don’t have your hair done the same. And you’re not distinctive.”
I gave her a look. She was my best friend, but between the language barrier and her honesty, she could be a little...blunt.
“I just mean everyone has people who look like them,” said Jan. “That girl looks like me. That guy looks like Tanner.”
I followed her finger towards the bar. There was a guy there who did look kind of like Tanner, though a little more unshaven and disheveled.
And he was walking towards us. I stood up, my chair falling over behind me.
“Chill,” said Jan. “He just looks like—”
“I’m sorry,” said Tanner, breathlessly.
“Oh,” whispered Jan, and went quiet.
“What are you doing here?” I looked around me to confirm that I was actually in Britain. “How did you even find me?”
“I stopped in at your mother’s place. She told me where you’d gone. She was pretty upset about everything.” He paused. “I got called some things.”
“Sorry,” I said quietly.
“No. I deserve it. I should never have put you in that situation. And I should have seen what Maury was doing.”
I looked sharply at him. “You know about—”
“Probably more than you do. It all came out, after you left. At first, he said it was all your idea to leave, but I didn’t believe him. Then he slowly started spilling. I fired him.”
I imagined Maury lifted off the ground by Tanner and pinned to the wall as he gasped a confession. It was a pleasant image.
“He called the paparazzi to the restaurant,” Tanner said. “But we should never have gone there in the first place.”
I shook my head. “Tanner, it would have happened eventually, even without Maury. I—I’m not ready for that life. I never will be.”
He stepped closer. “Then I don’t want that life either. Don’t you remember what I said? You, a house somewhere quiet, a baby—that’s all I want.”
“Wait,” said Jan. “A baby?”
“Give up Hollywood?” I asked. “That’s insane. I couldn’t ask you to do that.” I paused. “Would you do that? Really?”
“In a heartbeat.” He planted his hands on the table and leaned over it, his eyes blazing into mine. One thick forearm was about an inch from Jan’s face. She gulped.
“I can’t ask you to do that,” I said slowly. “I can’t let you do it. Even if you want to.”
“Then come with me and we’ll figure something out together.” He held his hand out to me.
I stared at him. “Promise me it’s going to be okay this time,” I said.
“I promise.”
I took his hand.
***
Outside, there was a gleaming motorbike.
“You have a motorbike...here?” I asked.
“You can hire a bike just like you hire a car. Everyone told me I shouldn’t have a car in London.”
I was in a summer dress, so I had to hoik it up to swing my leg over the saddle. “Where are we going?”
His eyes locked on my legs as he spoke. “Which way to the country?”
I pointed, and we went.
***
It’s surprising how fast you can get out of London and somewhere green. In an hour, the bike was resting up against a fence and we’d crossed one field and were walking hand-in-hand across a second, attempting to get as far from civilization as possible.
“I don’t want you to give up anything,” I said gently.
“That doesn’t mean I have to live right at the heart of things,” he told me. “I have some leeway, these days. Money buys you that.”
“It’s never going to be normal, though...is it?” I asked. “Even in a small town. It’s going to be fences and guard dogs and nannies and private schools for the kids. You’re a billionaire, for God’s sake.”
He nodded. “I’d be lying to you if I said it was going to be normal. I forgot how weird it all is. He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I forgot that I take a lot of stuff for granted. Like the lack of privacy thing.”
I ran my hand over my stomach. “If I am pregnant…I don’t want our kids to have a life like that. Imagine how a teenager would react to what happened to me. I can’t even handle it.”
He pulled me to him and wrapped his arms around me. “Never again, I promise. You or the kids.”
I knew I was pussyfooting around the biggest issue of all. I had my head pressed to his chest, but I turned my face to the side so that I could speak. “Wherever we live, though, there’s still...me. I’m not Hollywood material. Even if you’re not living there, everyone still sees the two of us together. Everyone’s going to think I’m after your money. Or they’ll think: what’s he doing with—”
He pushed me roughly back from him. “No! Never! God, never say that!”
I blinked and looked up at him, surprised. “But you know that I think that. I told you—”
“Yeah, but I thought I’d—” He sighed. “For God’s sake, Charlotte. What do I have to do to convince you? I like you—I love you—exactly the way you are. And anyone that doesn’t like that can go fuck themselves.”
“But—”
“No!” I actually jerked in shock. It was the angriest I’d ever seen him, but the rage wasn’t directed at me. “No ‘buts’! That’s my point. Fuck them. Fuck them all. If we say we’re good together, we’re good together. They don’t get to judge us. Not anymore.” He put a finger under my chin and lifted it until I was looking into his eyes. “Okay?”
I stood there, staggered by the force of his will. It hit me for the first time that he really meant it: he didn’t care what anyone else thought.
And if he didn’t...maybe I shouldn’t either.
“Okay,” I said in a tentative voice.
“Like you mean it,” he growled.
“Okay!” I said, louder.
And then he was picking me up and whirling me around, making me shriek. When he stopped, he said, “Wait. How did you say they had sex, again, with those corsets on?”
I swallowed. “They just hoiked their skirts up,” I said, reddening. “And lay down in the grass.”
I started to look around to see if the coast was clear, but he was already lowering me down on my back.
And that’s how he rescued me. I wasn’t a servant girl and he was on a bike, not a horse, and he wasn’t really English…and some would say he wasn’t really a gentleman.
But it was exactly like my dreams anyway.
Epilogue
Six months later
It ended with tea.
“Aaand...cut!” yelled the director.
I sipped on my tea as the cast and crew relaxed and sauntered off the set. We were back in Britain, filming the movie in a stately home. Tanner had got the part and was amazing everyone with his English accent. He’d started looking at other serious parts, too—smaller films and foreign co-productions, things that would stretch him. Without Maury controlling him, he had options.
I smiled as he walked towards me, loosening his tie. The heating had been cranked up, to compensate for the chill of a British winter and three of the actresses had passed out already—the dangers of corsets. I, meanwhile, wasn’t wearing anything nearly as restrictive. The maternity dress was already tight over my swollen stomach and I still had almost three months to go. It was going to be a big, bouncing baby—a boy, Tanner claimed, though I thought a girl. No matter. I had a feeling we were going to have plenty of both.
The wedding, three months after we’d met and before I’d started to show too much, had been an intensely private affair in the Seychelles. Tanner had kept the press away by simple means of hiring the entire island. I was beginning to see the benefits of the billionaire lifestyle.
“That,” said Tanner, “is quite enough of that for one day.” And he kissed me.
“You can drop the accent, now,” I told him. “You forget: you can’t fool
me with your gentleman act.”
He frowned and pulled me close. “Didn’t we establish that I could be both? A gentleman and a bad boy?”
“Fine.” I kissed him. “But lose the gentleman. I want my bad boy back until tomorrow morning.”
<<<< >>>>
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If you liked The Curvy Voice Coach and the Billionaire Actor, you’ll probably like other stories in my “He Wanted Me Pregnant!” series.
I’ve included an extract from He Wanted Me Pregnant! The Reporter and the Billionaire Scottish Wolf Lord below.
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An Extract from
The Reporter and the
Billionaire Scottish Wolf Lord
TV reporter Rachel isn't happy about being sent from sunny LA to gray, freezing Scotland to interview a minor royal. But when he turns out to be reclusive billionaire Lord Alex McKillington, things start to get interesting. Why is the whole village scared to go near his private island? Why does he seem so worked up when he's near her, his low voice almost a...growl?
Alex has hidden his secret for years, isolating himself for the safety of others. But his need to mate hasn't gone away and when Rachel walks into his life, controlling himself is impossible.
When she discovers his secret, Rachel must convince the brooding, loner alpha male to put aside his demons and love again. But is she really ready to become his mate...and offer him her fertile body?
He looked at the floor. “I don’t do well around people. Especially—” He cut himself short.
“Especially who?” she asked.
He didn’t reply.
Rachel took a step closer and noticed that he pressed back against the bureau. It was subtle, but she was good at subtle. She could spot when a politician started to rub his nose when telling a lie, or when a line of questioning had him loosening his tie. This man was nervous of her. Nervous…and something else.
“Especially women?” She took another step towards him, and now she could feel something. It was like a wave of heat, radiating off him—she swore she could actually feel it on her skin, soaking into her body and warming her from the inside out, the heat turning dark as it sank down to her groin. Lust. He wanted her, on a level she’d never known before. It was almost frightening in its intensity…and intoxicating in what it was doing to her. If a man this handsome wanted her, she certainly wasn’t going to argue. But she could see something else in his expression, in the way he backed away. He wanted her…but why did he fear her?
She took another step. The air almost seemed to shimmer between them like a heat haze as she pressed forward.
He looked around the room, his gaze everywhere but on her. She could see him gritting his teeth, sucking in little gasps of air. “Don’t,” he said warningly.
He’s scared of me, she thought in wonderment. Why is he scared of me?
She made her voice innocent and sweet. “Don’t what?” she asked. “Don’t come any closer?”
She took another step towards him and he pressed harder against the bureau. He was strong enough that it actually moved, banging against the wall. She could see his chest rising and falling under the robe—he was panting now, as if he’d just run a mile.
“Don’t,” he said again, desperate now.
“It’s okay,” she said gently. God, he’s gorgeous. Those eyes! She was close enough now that she could put her glass down on the bureau behind him. That meant reaching around him, her bare arm brushing his body, her neck sliding close to his face.
Time seemed to stop. He gave a sudden, strangled intake of breath, and when the air came back out it was in a low, throaty growl. It rattled off the window panes, as powerful as the thunder but much, much lower, so low she felt it throughout her entire body. There was something unearthly about that sound—something about hearing it coming from a human mouth. It wasn’t a human noise.
Deep inside her body, all her steely resolve and carefully-honed confidence melted to icy liquid and sluiced away, leaving her bare and exposed. Oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit—
She’d made an awful mistake. He hadn’t been scared of her; he’d been scared of himself.
His eyes changed and, this time, there was no doubt. They shone like two gold coins as he grabbed her upper arms and twisted her, ramming her back against the bureau so that the hard edge of it dug into her ass. His mouth was on hers, those full, sensual lips finding her softer ones, his tongue plunging between them, demanding and possessive.
She gasped with the shock of it but she felt her eyes close, her lips flower softly open…and then she was kissing him back, mouth as open and hungry as his. He was pressed against her from shoulder to groin, his muscles like iron, and against her thigh she could feel the hot hardness of him.
There was pain on her bare upper arms, but it only deepened the intensity of the kiss. Their bodies writhed together, her breasts pressing against his chest, until suddenly—
He tore away from her, whirling to hide his face, and staggered halfway across the room. She gasped and panted, her legs suddenly weak. She had to blink to make sure she was seeing what she thought she saw: thick, black and gray fur on his exposed neck. Her upper arms stung. When she looked down at them, there were thin red scratches where he’d gripped her. She looked back to Alex and caught a glimpse of his hands. Shining black claws extended beyond his fingers.
He seemed to feel her eyes on her, because he snatched his hands in front of his body to hide them. He hunched his shoulders, flipping the collar of the robe up to hide his neck, and stood there for a second, breathing slowly. She thought to look down at his feet, but they were normal. When her eyes made it back up to his neck, he’d relaxed his shoulders and his neck was just tan, perfect skin again. A second later, his hands dropped to his sides and they, too, were normal.
Had she imagined the whole thing?
She looked at the red lines on her arms. No. No way. “What are you?” she asked, her heart hammering in her chest.
He staggered over to the far side of the room and leaned against the door. He seemed almost drunk and shook his head as if to clear it. When he spoke, she could hear the anger and self disgust in his voice. “I warned you!”
He’s between me and the door, she thought. Her heart was pounding, an animal, instinctual fear still flooding her veins. And yet now, looking at him standing there so normal, so human…the whole thing seemed insane. There was something else, too, something irresistible to any reporter: the feeling that she’d caught a glimpse into a world that was normally off-limits.
And, alongside everything, the frightening intensity of the attraction. However scared she was, a big part of her wanted those lips back on hers, now.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” And she believed him.
“This is what happened with the woman from the village, isn’t it?” she asked slowly. “She came here to seduce you, and you…changed.”
He gave her a long look…and then nodded.
“Jesus.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say. The wind was rising again outside, howling past the windows.
“I’m okay,” he said, “as long as I stay away from you.” He shook his head. “It shouldn’t be like this. It didn’t used to be. I used to be able to control it, years ago, but….” He sighed.
She picked up the glass of Scotch and drained about half of it in one swallow. It helped.
“You’re a….” She couldn’t say it. It sounded too ridiculous. “You—I mean, you change into
—”
He gave her another long look. “Do you want to go?” he asked. “I can move away from the door. I want you to know that you can go.” And he backed off into the other corner of the room.
She looked at the door, and the normal, sane world that lay beyond. Part of her wanted to run back to it as fast as she possibly could.
The other part of her was remembering the feel of his lips on hers. She shook her head.
“Then swap places,” he told her. “I need a drink.”
They edged around the room. Halfway there, when they were at the closest point, he shook his head and gave a gasp, and she saw his hands bunch into fists as he fought it.
“What is it?” she asked, panicked. “I’m not even touching you!”
He shook his head. “You don’t have to. It’s everything about you. Your hair. Your eyes. Your body.” He said it in such a stark way, and yet that Scottish burr turned everything to poetry—somehow, the raw honesty of it made it even more intense. “If I close my eyes, I can still smell your scent.”
He moved around to the bureau, and she circled around to the door so that they were at opposite ends of the room again. He poured himself a Scotch, and the ritual of it seemed to calm him. “With the other woman that came here…it was different. She sneaked in while I was reading, put her arms around me. She was kissing me before I knew what was happening. She had to put her damn hand down my pants before I lost control. With you…I could feel it starting to happen even when you were still outside.” He suddenly met her eyes. “She was just a woman. You’re a woman I want.”
It sank in that she was against the door. She could open it and run into the night.
If she wanted to.
Hot desire was throbbing out from her core and snaking up and down her limbs. Hearing him describe how much he wanted her, how she affected him, was the most deeply erotic thing she’d ever experienced.
The Curvy Voice Coach and the Billionaire Actor (He Wanted Me Pregnant!) Page 11