Falling For The Rebel Princess. Ellie Darkins
leaned back and took a long drink of his orange juice. ‘So let’s control the narrative.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘What story would hurt your family more—a whirlwind romance and hasty Vegas marriage, or a drunken publicity stunt to further your career? Because that’s how the tabloids are going to want to spin it.’
‘What’s your point, Joe?’ She’d taken her hand back and crossed her arms again, sure that this conversation was taking a turn that she wasn’t going to like.
‘All I’m saying is that we can’t go back in time. We can’t get unmarried, whether we get an annulment or not. So we either dissolve the marriage today and deal with the fallout to our reputations...’
‘Or...?’
‘Or we stay married.’
Her breathing caught as just for a second she considered what that might mean, to be this man’s wife.
‘But we’re not in love. Anyone’s going to be able to see that.’
He scrutinised her from under his lashes, which were truly longer and thicker than any man’s had a right to be. ‘So we’re going to have to work hard to convince them. You can’t deny that it’s a better story.’
‘And you can’t deny that it means lying to my family. Ruining all the plans they were making for my life. I don’t know what your relationship with your family is like, but I’m not sure that I can pull it off. I’m not sure that I want to. Things are diffi—’
She stopped before she revealed too much. Joe raised an eyebrow, obviously curious about why she had cut herself off, but he didn’t push her on it.
‘Would you rather they knew the truth?’
Of course not. She had been hiding the truth from them for years, ever since she’d found out that she could never be the daughter or the Princess that they needed her to be.
‘Are we seriously having this conversation? You want to stay married? You do know that you’re a rock star, right? If you were that desperate for publicity you could have found a hundred girls who actually wanted to be your wife.’
‘Wow, you’re quite something for a guy’s ego. For the record, this isn’t some elaborate ruse to get myself a woman. I don’t have any problems on that score. All I’m doing is making the best of a situation. That’s all.’
Charlie took a big bite of pie, hoping that the sugar would succeed where the coffee hadn’t. ‘Well, I’m glad to hear that you’re not remotely interested in me as a woman.’
He fixed her with a meaningful stare, the intensity of his expression making it impossible for her to look away.
‘I never said that.’
Heat rose in her belly as he held the eye contact, leaving her in no doubt about how he thought of her. She shook her head as he finally broke the contact. ‘I can’t believe that I’m even considering this. You’re crazy. There’s no way we can keep this up. What happens if we slip? What happens when someone finds out it’s not for real? What happens when one of us meets someone and this marriage of convenience isn’t so convenient any more?’
He reached for her hand across the table, and once again there was that crackle, that spark that she remembered from the night before. She saw him in the chapel, eyes creased in laughter, as he leaned in to kiss her. Those eyes were still in front of her, concerned now though, rather than amused.
‘It doesn’t have to be for ever. Just long enough that it doesn’t look like a stunt when we split. You weren’t planning on marrying someone else any time soon, were you?’
‘Never.’ Her coffee cup rattled onto the saucer with a clash, liquid spilling over the top.
‘Wow—that really was a no.’
She locked her gaze on his—he had to understand this if they were going to go on. ‘I mean it, Joe. I didn’t want to get married. Ever. I’m not wife material.’
‘And yet here I am, married to you.’
He held her gaze and there was something familiar there. Something that made her stomach tighten in a knot and her skin prickle in awareness. With all the unexpected drama of finding themselves married, it seemed as if they’d both temporarily forgotten that they had also found themselves in bed together that morning.
Perhaps he was remembering something similar, because all of a sudden there was a new fire in his eyes, a new heat in the way that he was looking at her.
Her memory might be a bit ropey, but between the caffeine and the sugar her brain had been pretty much put back together, and there was one image of the night before that she couldn’t get from her mind.
You may now kiss the bride.
They’d all burst out laughing, finding the whole thing hilarious. But as soon as Joe’s hand had brushed against her cheek, cupping her jaw to turn her face up to him, the laughs had died in her throat. He’d been looking down at her as if he were only just seeing her for the first time, as if she had been made to look different by their marriage. His lush eyelashes had swept shut as he’d leaned towards her, and she’d had just a second to catch her breath before his lips had touched hers. They had been impossibly soft, and to start with had just pressed dry and chaste against hers. She’d reached up as he had and touched his cheek, just a gentle, friendly caress of her finger against his stubbled skin. But it had seemed to snap something within him; a gasp had escaped his lips, been swallowed by hers. His mouth had parted, and heat had flared between them.
She’d closed her eyes, understood that she was giving herself up to something more powerful than the simple actions of two individuals. As her eyes had shut her mouth had opened and her body had bowed towards her husband. Her hips had met his, and instantly sparks had crackled. His hands had left her face to lock around her waist, dragging her in tight and holding her against him. His tongue had been hot and hungry in her mouth; her hands frenzied, exploring the contours of his chest, his back, his butt.
And then the applause of their audience had broken into her consciousness, and she’d remembered where they were. What they were doing.
Blood had rushed to her cheeks and she could feel them glow as she’d broken away from Joe, acknowledging the whoops with an ironic wave.
‘All right, all right,’ she’d said, a sip of champagne helping with the brazen nonchalance; she’d hoped that she was successfully hiding the shake in her voice. ‘Hope you enjoyed the show, people.’
She’d looked up at Joe to see whether she had imagined the connection between them, whether he’d still felt it buzzing and humming and trying to pull their bodies back together. By the heated, haunted look in his eyes, she wasn’t alone in this.
He was worried, and he should be, because this marriage of convenience had just got a whole lot more complicated, for both of them. It had been a laugh, a joke, until their lips had met and they had both realised, simultaneously, that the flirting and banter that had provided an edge of excitement to their dancing that night would be a dangerous force unless they got a lid on it.
In the cold light of the morning after, she knew that they needed to face the problem head-on. She broke her gaze away from him, trying to cover what they had both clearly been remembering.
‘Ground rules,’ she said firmly, distracting herself by taking another bite of pie. ‘If we do this, there have to be ground rules to stop it getting complicated.’ He nodded in agreement, and she kept talking. ‘First of all, we keep this strictly business. We both need to keep our heads and be able to walk away when the time is right. Let’s acknowledge that there is chemistry between us, but if we let that lead us, we’re not going to be objective and make smart decisions. And I think we both agree that we need to be smart.’
‘People will talk if we don’t make this look good. It has to be convincing.’