Falling For The Rebel Princess. Ellie Darkins

Falling For The Rebel Princess - Ellie  Darkins


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the new album, if you’ve got a minute.’

      ‘Okay,’ Joe replied, ‘but you do remember what we decided last night. We’re going to say yes to Charlie’s label. I’m not going back on my word.’

      ‘A bit early in the marriage for those sorts of ructions, is it?’ Ricky looked at them carefully, and Charlie knew that they hadn’t dispelled all of his doubts, regardless of how good an actor Joe was. ‘Either way, we still need to speak to them. Until this deal is signed, we schmooze everyone, as far as I’m concerned. I know the others feel the same.’

      She had to call her boss. She couldn’t think why she hadn’t done it before now. She’d do it on the way to the plane. She glanced at her watch. They couldn’t stay long if they were going to make the flight. For a second she thought wistfully of her family’s private plane, and how much easier life had been when she’d been happy to go along with that lifestyle, to take what she didn’t feel she had earned. But it had got to the point where she simply couldn’t do it any more. If she was never going to be able to pay her parents back with the one thing that everyone wanted from her, she couldn’t use their money or their privilege any more.

      She had some money left to her by her grandparents—despite her protestations, the lawyers had told her that it belonged to her and there was nothing that she could do about it—and her salary from the record label.

      ‘I’m sorry, do you mind if I talk to them?’ Joe asked, turning to her.

      ‘Of course not.’ She forced a smile, trying to live in the moment and forget all of the very good reasons she should be freaking out right now. ‘Go on.’

      But Joe turned to Ricky. ‘You go ahead,’ he said. ‘I’ll be there in a second.’

      ‘You all right?’ he asked, when they were alone. ‘Still happy with everything? Because if you’re going to change your mind, now’s the time...’

      She drew away from him and folded her arms. ‘Why would I have changed my mind?’

      She didn’t understand what had happened to cause this change in mood. His shoulders were tense, she could see that.

      Was it because he’d just reminded Ricky of their deal to sign with her the night before? The thought made her feel slightly sick, reminded her that whatever they might say to his band, whatever story they might spin for the papers, when it came down to it, this really was just a publicity stunt, or a business arrangement or...whatever. Whatever it was, she knew what it wasn’t. It hadn’t been love at first sight. It wasn’t a grand romance. It wasn’t a fairy tale, and there was going to be no happy ending for her. Well, fine, it wasn’t like she deserved one anyway.

      But now that they were married, they had to make it work. They had to appear to be intoxicated with one another. Luckily, intoxicated was one of her fortes. She forced herself to unfold her arms and smile. ‘Of course I’m all right.’

      Taking a deep breath, she stepped towards him, and with a questioning look in her eye snaked her arms around those tense shoulders. She placed another chaste peck on his lips, and smiled as she drew away. ‘See? Picture perfect. Everything’s as we agreed. Let’s go say hi to everyone.’

      Under the pressure of her arms, she felt his shoulders relax and his face melted into a smile. ‘Well, we could give them something to talk about first.’

      His arms wrapped around her waist, and she was reminded of the rush of adrenaline and hormones that she had felt outside when he had kissed her in front of the cameras. Her breath caught as her body softened into his hold. This time when his lips met hers, there was nothing chaste about it. Her arms tightened around him as he lifted her just ever so slightly, rubbing her hips against his as she slid up his body. His arms wrapped her completely, so that her ribs were bracketed with muscular forearms, and his hands met the indents of her waist. She was surrounded by him. Overwhelmed by the dominance of his body over hers.

      His mouth dominated her too, demanding everything that she could give, and it was only with the touch of his tongue that she remembered where they were. She pushed both hands on his chest, forcing him to give her space, to unwind his arms from around her waist.

      She smiled as she looked at him, both of them still dazed from the effect of the kiss. ‘Do you think they bought it?’ she asked, remembering that just a few moments ago they had been discussing the fact that this relationship was just a business deal—that the purpose of the kiss had been to keep up appearances. But Joe’s face fell, and she knew that she had said the wrong thing.

      ‘I think they bought it fine,’ he said. ‘It was a winning performance.’

      Through the bite of his teeth, she knew that it wasn’t a compliment.

      She shook her head, then reached up and pecked him one last time on the cheek. ‘Whatever it was, it blew my mind.’ She met his eyes, and she knew that he saw that she was genuine. Whatever else might be going on, there was no denying the chemistry between them. It would be stupid to even try.

      But beyond that, beyond the crazy hormones that made her body ache to be near his, was there something else too? A reason that the disappointment in his eyes made some part of her body hurt? She slipped her fingers between his and they walked over to where Ricky was holding court with a woman that she recognised from another record label, her competition, and a music journalist.

      ‘So here’s the happy couple,’ the hack said with a smile, raising her glass to toast them. Charlie spotted a waiter passing with a tray of champagne and grabbed a flute for herself and one for Joe. She saw off half the glass with her first sip, until she felt she could stare down the journalist with impunity.

      She watched Joe as they chatted, her hand trapped within his, and tried not to think about whether the warm glow of possessiveness she felt was because she’d bagged him as an artist, or a husband.

      * * *

      As they walked through Arrivals at Heathrow Airport, Joe felt suddenly hesitant at the thought of taking Charlie back to his apartment, definitely not something he was used to. It wasn’t as if he were a stranger to taking girls home. Though in fairness home was more usually a hotel room or their place. But now that he and Charlie were back on British soil, he realised how little they’d talked about how this was going to work.

      ‘So we said we’d stay at my place,’ he reminded her as they headed towards the end of another endlessly long corridor.

      ‘We did,’ she agreed, and he looked at her closely, trying to see if there was more he could glean from these two words. But he had forgotten that his new wife was a pro at hiding her feelings—she’d had a lifetime of practice. Charlie offered nothing else, so he pushed, wanting the matter settled before they had to face the press, who were no doubt waiting for them again at the exit of the airport. Airport security did what they could to push them back, but couldn’t keep them away completely. Not that he should want that, he reminded himself. They wanted the publicity. It was good for the band. It was the whole reason they were still married.

      But even good publicity wasn’t as important as finishing a new album would be—that thought hadn’t been far from his mind the last few days. He couldn’t understand how he had thought that it was nearly finished. He’d played the demo tracks over and over on the plane, and somehow the songs that he’d fine-tuned and polished so carefully no longer worked when he listened to them. They didn’t make him feel. They had a veneer of artifice that seemed to get worse, rather than better, the more that he heard them.

      His first album had come from the heart. He shuddered inwardly at the cliché. It was years’ worth of pent-up emotion and truths not said, filtered through his guitar and piano. It was honest. It was him. This latest attempt... It was okay. A half-dozen of the tracks he would happily listen to in the background of a bar. But it was clean and safe and careful, and lacking the winners. The grandstanding, show-stopping singles that took an album from good to legendary.

      He was still writing. Still trying. But he was out of material and out of inspiration. His adolescent experiences, his adult life of running


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