Gamble on Engagement Read online

  I grabbed my library books, figuring at least I could get a little biography education, and made a quick detour to the castle library to grab a nice, big classic hardcover—Shakespeare—that would cover my true reading, and headed out to the pool area.

  Miraculously, it was as deserted as it had been before Miranda had so rudely messed up my R & R time.

  It really was one of the most peaceful places ever. The trickling waterfall drowned out the noises of the lawnmowers and tillers and whatever else was whirring around out there, and it even helped all the possible fake Prince stories that just wouldn’t stay away, even after I’d got a lot of it down. It really was too bad that the book was an autobiography, and that all the information inside it had to actually be true. There was no way the real story was going to amount to half as scandalous and interesting than the scenes in my head.

  But, I had to concentrate on the real story.

  The truth.

  Right?

  I cracked open the Autobiographies for Dummies book and began read.

  Approximately twelve seconds later, my cell started to ring.

  I sighed and carefully set down my ‘book inside a book’ so that the real reading material didn’t show, and dug my phone out of my bag.

  Dear God, it was my mother.

  My mind raced, trying to figure out what in the world she might be calling about. Thank goodness I hadn’t told her I was away. She’d have a field day with that one.

  “Hi Mom,” I said, as cheerily as humanly possible under the circumstances.

  Which, I mean, given the fact that I was lounging by the pool reading should have been quite cheery, but it was my mother, after all.

  “Are you in Britain?” she practically screamed.

  How does she know everything?

  “A hello might be nice,” I said, trying not to let her bring down my mood now that I’d finally gotten back to something other than self-loathing after my little disaster with Miranda.

  “Are. You. In. Britain?”

  “Um… maybe.”

  “Josephine McMaster, you tell me this instant how you got to Britain!”

  I sighed. “I’m a big girl Mom, I am quite capable of getting to London.”

  “You know very well what I mean. How can you afford to go to Britain?”

  I could tell she was losing patience. Not that she had much to lose in the first place.

  “I’m working, Mom.”

  “Working?” She sounded as though she didn’t know the meaning of the word. I mean, my mother was far from lazy, but she had never held down a typical job.

  “Yes mother, you provide a product or service, and in return you receive a paycheck. It’s all very modern, I know.” I could not keep the sarcasm from my voice.

  Which was probably my downfall.

  “Oh for Pete’s sake! You don’t have to treat me like I’m stupid. How on Earth did you land a job in London?”

  “Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  Now it was her turn to sigh. “You know what I mean. How did you find something so quickly? And overseas?” I was probably wrong, but I thought I almost caught a whiff of pride in her voice.

  “I applied with an agency that does these sorts of placements. It’s a writing job. Turns out I had some unique qualifications.”

  Good lord, why did I say that?!

  “Oh my, I can only imagine what those might be,” my mother said, with a sniff.

  At least she didn’t come right out and ask. I wasn’t really all that gung ho to bring up the whole paparazzi catastrophe all over again. Goodness knows, my mother would take decades to forget “her” humiliation.

  “So, thanks for the call Mom, but really, you don’t have to worry so much about me.”

  “Well… what about Jake?”

  “What about him?”

  “I just can’t believe you would throw away a relationship like that. It could have been your last opportunity to find a man with substance.”

  “Mother!” I should have known this would all be about her status as the potential mother in law of an elite member of society. “Everything is just fine with me and Jake. Not that it’s any of your business, but he’s coming over here to visit soon.”

  “Well,” she said, adding one more level of snoot to her voice, “that is a relief.”

  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Well, thanks for calling Mom. I really am very busy though, I really gotta run!”

  I hung up before she got the chance to object.

  Honestly, it’s like she took classes in how to push my buttons or something.

  I turned off the ringer and settled back for some reading, and hopefully some brainstorming of the blasted book I was supposed to write.

  The how-to book was informative and all, but it just looked so… rigid in the way that it said you should write the autobiography. It suggested a chronological format, which I supposed made sense, but honestly, I’d been hoping to find something a bit more… creative.

  ~ 8 ~

  Time passed quickly at the castle, there was so much to see and do. Leo took me riding a few times and I was shocked at how hard it was. People make it look so easy in the movies, but honestly, I felt like I was being slowly jolted to death, it was so bumpy must of the time. But then again, he was gone a lot. A weekend here, a day or two there, and the book was just not taking shape.

  I mean, there were lots of ideas in my head, but none of them seemed right for the book. I did, however, work quite a bit on my Charming Prince slash decadent Spanish mistress project. I mean, at least it gave me something to do while Leo kept pretty much most of himself hidden from me.

  I mean, at least I hoped he was keeping it hidden and as I was beginning to suspect, there just might not really be anything all that interesting in his past to even write about.

  But I couldn’t think like that.

  There had to be something scandalous, or exciting, or at least a little… fun in his life, right?

  Worse, it seemed like a year since I’d seen Jake, even though it had only been six weeks and we talked almost every day. I mean, can a person even become that dependant on someone that quickly? But I was beginning to feel like I couldn’t quite breathe right without him.

  And tonight, I was finally going to see him again.

  If I could find a ride into London, that is.

  Ugh, why was it that I sometimes felt like a prisoner in the castle, and that I felt like I was asking my dad for the keys to the family station wagon every time I needed a ride somewhere?

  Actually, that might not be a bad idea. Instead of putting someone out and making them drive me all around, why not just borrow one of the cars and drive on in myself? I mean, I didn’t have a clue where I was going in London, but surely the Prince would have a car with GPS, right? Sure, I hadn’t really driven all that much since I’d moved to the city years ago, but it was like riding a bike, right? Ahem, not that I had the greatest track record with bikes or anything, but you know what I mean. Oh yeah, and there was that whole driving on the other side of the road issue, but seriously, how hard could that be? I mean, the steering wheel was on the other side of the car too, so I was sure it would just be like driving in a mirror or something.

  Easy peasy.

  But first things first. I had to look good for my man. He was around beautiful (and highly made up) women all day long while he was shooting. I had to at least make an effort.

  So an all day event it was, and I had to say, it was starting to finally all come together. I smelled magnificent from the Vanilla and Lemon Zeal aromatherapy concoction I’d created, which maybe seems a bit weird, but I smelled a bit like a Lemon Meringue Pie. Delicious.

  I was feeling pretty good, finally getting a chance to wear the last dress that I’d purchased back home at the special store Mattie had shown me to buy my stuff for all the wedding events. Luckily for me, I ended up with one extra, and this was the perfect occasion to wear it.

  The vib
rant teal made my eyes sparkle like a vixen, and the skirt was the exact right length to be sexy, yet not too scandalous. It gave me kind of a hot librarian look, which I thought just might be the perfect thing to show up in when you haven’t seen your boyfriend for a month. Naughty, yet nice.

  The only thing missing was a sexy pair of studious glasses, but sadly, my vision was twenty-twenty.

  I wanted nothing more than to spend a nice quiet night alone with Jake—God knows it had been a while since we’d had any “quality” time together, if you know what I mean—but secretly, I sort of hoped we’d get a chance to go out in public, just for a little while. That way, the paparazzi could get a picture of us together and shut the hell up about us breaking up.

  Plus I was looking rather good, so it would be a great time for a snap or two.

  I shimmied out of the house in my stilettos, and while the skirt looked rather hot as fitted as it was, it wasn’t the easiest thing to walk in. But I had to find some transportation.

  Thankfully, I had the good fortune to avoid Miranda completely. Of course that might have had more to do with the fact that I’d been like a stealthy ninja (well, as stealthy as a ninja can be in stilettos) peeking down every hallway before going down it. My God that woman had a knack of lurking around the exact corners you had to pass to get to your destination.

  “You look lovely this evening, Miss McMaster,” Lance said, with a little tip of his jaunty, very English gentleman looking hat.

  “Hey Lance,” I said, still a little uncomfortable with the formality around the castle. “Is there a car that Leo lets his guests drive while they’re staying here?”

  “Oh,” he said, looking more than a little surprised. “I’m sure we can find somebody to drive you wherever you need to go.”

  I smiled, trying to look grateful, yet at the same time trying to show that I was a big girl and could find my way to London. It was, after all, a straight shot to the city, without so much as a turn to possibly get lost. “Thank you,” I said. “But I think I’d really like to head in on my own this time. Is there something with GPS so I can find my way?” I smiled my most confident smile, making sure to temper it with a bit of humility to show I was appreciative of everything he’d done for me, but just really wanted to strike out on my own.

  And I totally must be a better actress than I thought, because I think it all came shining through. I mean, at least he didn’t laugh at me, plus he handed me the keys to a lovely, sensible sedan. Which I was kind of happy about because, while it may not be as cute as the sky blue mini, it came equipped with a GPS.

  Never were there three more beautiful letters put together.

  And I only drove on the wrong side of the road for a few miles. You wouldn’t believe how quickly a person remembers about the other side of the road thing once a huge truck is barreling toward you at an alarming rate.

  Plus it did give me a good opportunity to test the steering out, which is always important, and I really couldn’t have been more impressed. Not to mention I stayed cool as a cucumber, even as the truck blew its freighter ship sounding horn. I only had to pull over to the side of the road—the wrong side, at least for me—for about fifteen minutes before I stopped shaking long enough to be on my way.

  Needless to say, the estimated trip time from the GPS was a tad longer than first expected.

  Driving in the city actually wasn’t as bad as I thought, and that had been the part I was most scared about. But the GPS guided me turn for turn and I’d had the entire way in to figure out the whole which side of the road do I drive on thing.

  When I made it to the hotel, the car and I were both unharmed and in one piece. Thankfully Jake picked a hotel close to the road I had to drive in on, so there was actually very little city driving involved. And the hotel was amazing too, although, I suppose what else was I to expect from Jake?

  My adrenaline kicked in as I applied a fresh coat of lipstick, the excitement of finally seeing Jake almost too much.

  I walked into the hotel lobby and…

  … there he was. His hair was a little longer, he’d had to try to grow it out for the movie he was filming, but otherwise he looked completely, most perfectly, the same.

  He was leaning on the back of a dark leather couch, legs crossed casually at his ankles, holding a huge bouquet of white peonies in one hand and pushing off the couch with the other.

  How on earth did I end up dating a movie star again? I wondered to myself, my life like a surreal dream. Jake smiled his slightly crooked smile, looking only at me.

  I smiled and sighed.

  Like audibly sighed like a lovesick schoolgirl. God, I was such a dork. I tried not to cringe, and somehow kept my smile in place as he made his way toward me. It was all I could do not to run and jump into his arms as if we were in the final scene of a movie where the couple finally gets to be together again after being apart for an eternity. Or, you know, overcoming some big disastrous event like an alien invasion or whatever.

  But somehow I stayed in place, waiting for him to get to me. My insides were shaking, I was so giddy to see him, and I hoped he couldn’t feel it when he wrapped his arms around me in a giant bear hug.

  “I missed you,” he said.

  I nearly melted. Every person in the lobby was watching but I couldn’t have cared less. I thought I even caught a flash or two of a camera, but I was way too immersed in smelling Jake’s to die for cologne.

  He pulled out of the hug—too soon, in my opinion—and just looked at me for a second, giving me a quick kiss and handing me the flowers.

  I wanted nothing more than to jump into his arms and kiss him again, but a girl had to have some semblance of self-control, and somehow I managed not to. “Thanks,” I said, taking the flowers. “They’re beautiful.”

  “So are you,” he said, with another kiss. This one lingering a little longer as he pulled me in closer. Thank God.

  I tried to make sure the flowers didn’t get squished, which was really kind of hard because it seemed like Jake couldn’t have cared less about them, so I ended up holding them way out to the side and hoped there were no photogs around. I mean, the thing about flowers is that they’re beautiful and wonderful and everything, but once someone gives them to you, if you’re not in your own house where you can go get a vase and put them in the center of the table or whatever, what in the hell are you supposed to do with them?

  Luckily, Jake had thought of everything.

  “They said they’d put these in the room if you want,” he said, taking them and handing them to a hotel worker who’d appeared from out of nowhere.

  Which meant he’d preplanned everything. Just for me. I nearly sighed all over again, but since Jake was holding my hand, and I didn’t want him to hear any dorky girlie-girl sounds leave my lips, I settled on a mental “eeeeeee!” and clung to Jake’s hand as he led me to the restaurant.

  The way my legs were shaking—God, it was like I was meeting him for the first time all over again—it was very nice to sit down. And relax.

  Well, not relax exactly, since everyone in there was still staring at us, but at least I could try to block them out and just concentrate on Jake.

  “How have you been?” he asked, leaning in and kissing the hand that happily, he wouldn’t let go of.

  I shrugged. ‘Cause, you know, a shrug looks really ladylike when you’re all dressed up and sitting in a fancy restaurant. Cripes! “Good, I’ve been… good.”

  “That doesn’t sound very convincing.”

  I let out a bit of a humorless laugh. “Yeah, I guess not. But really, things are okay, it’s just… I may not be cut out for this biographer business. I mean, I’ve barely been able to get to know the… um, person I’m writing about.” I glanced around. Good lord! I nearly said “the Prince” right there, out loud, in public!

  Jake caught my almost slip and smirked in that way he had, that made me just want to go ahead and faint. “Don’t worry, if you charm this… person even half as much as you’ve
charmed me, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

  It was nice that he was trying to make me feel better, but there was no way in you-know-where that anyone was going to me feel good about the book. You know, since I had hardly any of it written. And barely even researched. I mean, it’s not like you can just pop into the library and pick up a book on a living person. You know, unless they have a biography.

  I groaned quietly and put my head in my hands.

  “You know what?” Jake said, grabbing my hand again. “Let’s talk about something else. In fact, let’s not talk about work at all. Tonight is our only night together and I want to make it count.” He leaned in closer, whispering. “And I really want to make it count once we get upstairs.”

  My face went red. Good Lord, I was a grown woman and my face went red at the mere mention of a little ooh-la-la later on. Although it could have been the fact that that ooh-la-la was going to happen with a movie star that could not have been any more gorgeous if he tried, and believe me, I’d seen him get ready in the morning and he really does not have to try too hard to look the way he did.

  I crinkled my brow.

  Come to think of it, how did he get that gorgeous body anyway? I’d never seen him work out. And he never even talked about it. Weird.

  “Jake?”

  “Yeah?” he asked, taking a sip of water.

  “When do you work out?”

  He spit his mouthful all over the table.

  I, of course, could not stop the giggles from escaping. I mean seriously, when else was I going to get a chance to catch Jake—my movie star—doing something that might be embarrassing? And spitting water on the table was the only thing even remotely embarrassing I’d seen him do.

  “Um…” he said.

  I caught my breath and eventually said, “What the heck? Was it something I said?” I let out one last laugh. “I mean, all I did was ask when you worked out. It’s not like you get a body like yours by lounging around all day.”

  He cleared his throat, clearly still embarrassed by the water incident. Or so I thought. “Well, yeah…” he said, sheepishly.