Contracted For Love: Famous Love Series (4 page)

“You heard me. I went to the kitchen to get a drink of water and Mrs. Jones nearly had a heart attack. She said I wasn’t allowed to go in there and that, if I wanted something, I should press the call button. I argued, but she was so freaked out that I let her have her way. She wouldn’t tell me what the problem was with me helping myself, but just said she couldn’t talk to me.”

Jack closed his eyes for a second.
She’s been here for two hours and she’s already messing things up.
“Mrs. Jones follows the protocol for house staff.”

“The protocol?” Charlotte’s eyebrows crawled up into her hair as her voice rose an octave. “What fucking protocol?”

“These people are my staff. They are here to keep the house clean, provide meals, and maintain the grounds.”

“And?”

He looked blankly at her, totally unaware of what she was asking. “They’re not my friends,” he offered lamely.

“Ah… that’s what I thought.” She jumped off the couch and quickly moved behind where he was sitting. He resisted the urge to turn around and see if she was about to attack him with a heavy object; she sounded pissed enough to do it. Under her breath, he heard her mutter to herself, “What kind of a pompous asshole have I hooked up with?”

“I don’t understand why you’re upset.”

She sighed and came back to stand near him. “I don’t know why, either. I thought you’d be different, I guess. I didn’t realise it would be like this. I think I have made a monumental mistake.” Charlotte looked like she was about to flee, but instead, she dropped down onto the chair with a laugh. “You truly are a piece of work. America’s male sweetheart on the big screen—every girl’s fantasy—but at home, you’re highly-strung and entitled.”

“How do you know anything about me? You’ve only been here for two hours.”

“People who treat their staff the way you do tell me everything I need to know. I can’t live here, if certain people aren’t allowed to talk to me and I can’t get myself a drink of water from the kitchen without giving the housekeeper a coronary. Your driver didn’t even make eye contact with me. It was weird.”

“That’s what he’s been told to do.”

“Why? Please enlighten me. I am seriously flabbergasted at all of this.”

Jack watched her brow crinkle and wondered how she could look so damn sexy when, a moment ago, she’d wanted to take his head off. Now she looked like she might cry. She wasn’t used to celebrity living and it showed. He wasn’t about to turn his whole household upside down, just so she could feel comfortable, though. Maybe it was better if she left and they tore up the contract.

“I don’t know how to explain it, or even what I’m explaining. For me, it has always been like this. My mother always took care of the staff when I lived at home, but now that I’m on my own, I’ve just kept it up. When you’re famous, you can’t afford to let anyone get too close. You can’t be friends with people you employ, because the one time you let your guard down, your secrets will be splashed over the front page of the papers. They don’t even need to be good secrets—the paparazzi are interested in any tiny detail. I live a low-key life and it’s because I guard my privacy viciously. That can’t happen when you’re friends with everyone wandering around your property.”

“Aren’t you friends with Freddy?”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“That’s work. We’re both working to further my career. My staff aren’t trying to further my career.”

“Freddy works for you—it’s the fucking same.”

“I don’t agree.”

“I don’t care.”

They glared at each other again, and it seemed that’s what their three years was going to involve. There would be a spat, some staring, and then they’d be onto the next thing to argue about. Jack didn’t know how he was going to make it through. He’d have to set off on a tour as quickly as possible, so he didn’t have to deal with her.

“So, are you staying? If so, I’ll get Mrs. Jones to start dinner.”

“She’s cooking?”

“Yes. I’m certainly not, and you’re not allowed in the kitchen, remember?”

“I want to see the Strip.”

“You will. You’ll be here for three years.”

“I want to see it now.”

“I have to get up early tomorrow to meet with my tour manager. We’ll go out some other time.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Jack, I don’t need your permission to go out. Do you have a key for me? I might be late.” She stood up and smoothed her shirt as she spoke and he saw she was dressed to go out.

He explained that the door didn’t have a key, but a code, and gave her the number. “I’d suggest you memorise it.“

“Will do, grumpy ass. Don’t wait up for me—I have a lot of exploring to do.” She grabbed her bag from the counter, and he suddenly realised he didn’t have a mobile number for her. She didn’t have any details for him, either, if she got in trouble. “I’ll get Mr. Phillips to drive you in. Just call him when you’re ready to come home.”

“Mr. Phillips won’t be driving me. I’ll call a cab.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because a cab driver will talk to me. He’ll explain where we’re going and point out landmarks to me. He’ll chat and flirt and hope that I give him a decent tip, which I will, because I’ll be so grateful for someone to talk to who doesn’t have a stick up their ass.”

“God, woman, you are infuriating.”

“Get used to it. It’s my ongoing gift to you.”

He ground his teeth and rolled his eyes as she took out her phone and dialled the taxi. Jack stepped forward and plucked the phone out of her hands before the call could connect. She looked up at him with fire in her eyes again, “Hey, give that back. I don’t want to go with Mr. Stepford.”

“I’ll take you myself. Just give me a few minutes to get changed. You don’t even know where we are, so how would you call a cab?”

“They have GPS, these days, you out-of-touch fool. They know where I am when I call, and if they can’t find the address, they have my caller ID so they can ask me.”

“Oh.” He seemed surprised. “I didn’t know that.”

“I’d much rather annoy you for the night, though, so hurry up and change, so we can go exploring. I’ve never been to Vegas—I’m dying to see it.”

He retreated to their room to change, and stumbled upon the explosion that had occurred while she’d showered. Her clothes were everywhere, and in the bathroom, wet towels were on the floor. She might pretend she didn’t like having household help, but it sure seemed like she needed it. As he let out a loud sigh, she came up behind him.

“While you get changed, I’ll just tidy up,” she said.

He had to take back the evil thoughts he was thinking about her, and he spoke before he thought about what he was saying. “Mrs. Jones can do that.”

She turned to him with scorn in her eyes and said, “I don’t fucking think so, Jack.”

***

The drive to the Strip was uneventful, although Jack knew he’d seen a little twinkle in her eye when the garage door had opened and revealed his red Ford Mustang. Her wide smile now as they drove confirmed that she loved the car, although he knew she’d never give him the satisfaction of saying so. Several times, his eyes were drawn to her when they should have been on the road.

What the hell is wrong with me?

As they stopped at the corner and waited for the red signal to change to green, she couldn’t contain her excitement, anymore. “Oh my God, this is AH-MAH-ZING! How can you not be down here every single night? I’ll never get tired of this.”

“We’re not coming here every single night, I promise you that. It is exciting, though—I’ll admit it.”

“Exciting? Exciting doesn’t even begin to describe it. The colours, the lights—I can’t believe there are so many people out there!”

“It gets a lot busier than this. Once you’re well-known, you’ll find it harder to come down here regularly, so enjoy it while you can. Once someone recognises you, it will be pandemonium.”

“Is that why you prefer to stay home?”

“Sometimes. Mostly, I don’t have anyone to come here with, unless there’s a promotional event happening.”

Charlotte smiled her most mischievous smile, then, and Jack felt his heart rate speed up just a little. “Jack, my friend, now you have a partner in crime. I’m going to drag you here so much that you’ll want me to move out!”

“I already want you to move out.” The words slipped out before he had a chance to think about how they might hurt her, but she had the hide of rhino.

“Fuck you, Jack Fawkner,” she said without a trace of malice. “I can tell I’m going to love it here. I’m surprised to say I’m thrilled you live in Vegas!”

He groaned as he pulled the car into the valet parking of Caesar’s Palace. He’d hoped she’d run away screaming from his home, but the bright lights had had the exact opposite effect.

***

“Are we incognito, or is this meant to be a date, do you think?” Jack looked surprised at her question and Charlotte realised he hadn’t given it a thought before now. She felt a tiny bit bad for thinking it was why he’d decided to come with her, in the end: to cement their standing in the eyes of the press.

“What do you want to do?”

He’s leaving it up to me?
“Well, it depends how often you can stand to be seen with me in public, I guess. If that won’t be often, then maybe we should make the most of this now? What do you think? What’s your Princess limit?”

She watched him visibly relax for the first time since they’d met, and he gave her a genuine smile. “I can go out in public with you as often as is necessary, mostly to keep my eye on you. You don’t need to worry about that. You’re infuriating, but so far, you’re not bad company.”

“Good to know. I’ll have to try harder.” Charlotte giggled.

“Please don’t. Let’s just have a nice night. Your enthusiasm for this place is a little infectious; I’m looking forward to seeing it through your eyes.”

She smiled and turned her attention to the casino they were walking through. The noises of the slot machines rang out and the crowd jostled for position. The cocktail waitresses were dressed in cute, little uniforms that were like outfits from a bygone era. Charlotte made a mental note to make Jack take her to a show, while she was here. She’d even be nice to him, if it meant he would take her to see one of the big names. Maybe they’d see Britney Spears, or even Cher. God, how she loved Cher!

“Come on, let me show you the fountains.” He reached for her hand, enclosed it in his, and gave it a little squeeze. She looked sideways at him in surprise. “What? We’re getting engaged any minute, so we better get used to holding hands in public. I believe it was one of the things Jay suggested.” When she kept staring at him, he finally looked away and tugged her forward toward the giant exit doors that would take them out into the busy throng of tourists. “You don’t have to like it, just act like you do,” he muttered.

Charlotte was in shocked silence as they walked down the sweeping sidewalk to the street. She composed herself while they walked and reminded herself to look happy and carefree. She was with a gorgeous, famous man, and even if it wasn’t real, she was going to enjoy it as much as she could.

It wasn’t too much hard work as she felt her lips curl into a smile every time her eyes fell on something new. The Eiffel Tower replica across the street looked amazing; she made a mental note to ride to the top one day soon. The Strip was full of tourists laughing and drinking from giant, plastic guitars and coloured yard glasses. She marvelled that they were allowed to drink out on the street.

The walk to the Fountains of Bellagio didn’t look too far, but Charlotte was quickly learning that she’d made the right decision to wear comfortable boots and not towering, high heels. Even the walk from the car to the front of the casino had been epic; she counted at least three restaurants in just one casino and she suspected there were more hiding there, too. What an enormous place this was!

Jack manoeuvred them into position in front of the fountains as music played from the speakers above their heads. “They come on every fifteen minutes, so we won’t have long to wait.” He stood close behind her and she was conscious of his breath tickling the back of her ear. She could swear he was doing it on purpose.

A power struggle was brewing between them and she knew it was a battle she had to win, if she was going to continue to ignore the way his breath on her skin made her feel. She didn’t want to admit it to herself, yet, but it was likely that the three years she’d spend with Jack Fawkner were not going to be the worst three years of her life. If she had a solid movie career at the end of it, then it would all be worth it.

Jack put his hand on her shoulder as the music suddenly quieted and the crowd hushed. It was time for the show, and Charlotte felt a little thrill of excitement. She was in Las Vegas! As the first strains of the music rang out and the water shot up into the air, she looked up in wonder. The patterns were lovely and they kept time with the music as the crowd cheered. She ignored Jack’s hand, which had gathered her hair to the side, allowing him to rest his head on her shoulder as he slipped his other hand down to rest on her hip.

What the hell is he doing?