Celebrity Wedding of the Year. Melissa James

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СКАЧАТЬ he said dryly. “High praise, coming from you.”

      Oh, darn it. She was blushing again! She rushed into speech. “And you’re the only famous man around my age I know who isn’t a slimeball. You’re a decent guy.”

      After a startled moment he burst out laughing. “I didn’t know you’d even thought that much about me. But that’s a reason for a nice girl to ask a guy on a date, not to offer marriage.”

      She felt her blush grow deeper. “Well, um …” She made a strangled sound, and then said it. “All I’m offering is a fake marriage to make the media chase us around and take the heat from Dad.”

      Another moment—two, thirty seconds … It stretched out and out, until the air around her felt like it would snap. “I see,” he said, his voice strange. “I guess I should’ve seen that coming.”

      Could any more blood pool in her cheeks? It was spilling down her throat. What had seemed so easy, so straightforward in the doctor’s office now seemed like a road pitted with unseen potholes.

      “So what’s the rest?” he asked, no longer sounding exhausted; cynicism had bolted straight past exhaustion and taken first place. “And don’t tell me you don’t have it all mapped out, Mia. You always have a plan.”

      “You—you mean you’ll do it?”

      Oh, curse her breathlessness! She was supposed to be cool and in control here.

      His brow lifted, giving him a look of superiority she didn’t like. “I’m not agreeing to anything until I know what I’m letting myself in for. Have you been to the lawyer’s office yet, to draw up a contract?”

      Her reaction must have been obvious, because he shrugged: the picture of a cool, uncaring male leaning against the doorpost. “You’d never put yourself in a situation you couldn’t control. You’d want it all in writing, and for me to sign something that sets boundaries and enforces your ‘hands off’ policy.”

      Mia gaped at his perception.

      He laughed outright. “Four years as part of End Game, and you thought I wouldn’t know that about you?” He shook his head. “You kept your disdain for lowly musos up on a handy shelf for you to grab and toss at us any time you needed it.”

      Her hands curled into fists; she swallowed down the lump of pure anger. Cool and in control. That was the key to winning. “So you’ll sign the contract?”

      “No.”

      The shock shivered straight from her brain down her spine. Where was the straightforward course she’d set for this plan? She’d thought C.J.—always easygoing, and looking to Dad like a second father—would be happy to follow her lead. Dad would get his rest, C.J.—well, he’d enjoy it … and she could kick-start her new life. This was the perfect way to catapult interest levels in her book.

      Well, two out of three wasn’t bad for her—but when it came to C.J., obviously another assumption had bit the dust.

      “Why not?” she demanded.

      C.J. looked into her eyes. “I’ve never given you reason to doubt my word. If you want me in on this you either trust me or find another sucker.”

      The words were uncompromising, but as she looked in those eyes, deep and darkest green, his own personal Amazon, all she could think was that if she wasn’t careful she could get lost in them and never find her way out.

       No man will ever control me! Even a man with eyes that cold-burn into my soul.

      She squared her shoulders. “I guess I’ll find the other sucker.” Her hand flicked a wave. “Go and sleep, C.J. I’ll leave breakfast for you and get out of your hair.”

      “I thought I was the only really famous reclusive guy you knew that was decent?”

      She shrugged. “So I pay a B-grader from somewhere and enforce the contract.”

      C.J. shook his head. “You honestly think that’ll work? Give him everything Billy has to match what the paparazzi will offer for a scoop on why ‘squeaky clean Mia Browning’ eloped with him? He’ll still take your money and theirs, and run with both. And if you sue him he gets another fifteen minutes of fame and hopefully a contract. The clock keeps ticking, the media surround Billy and Nicole, and he gets sicker.”

      Feeling sucker-punched, she glared at him. “Are you digging holes in my plan for the fun of it?”

      He put a hand over his mouth to stifle a yawn. “Your first plan was pretty good, leaving out your control freak nature and the contract.”

      She frowned. “So … you are thinking about it?”

      “What’s there to think about? You still haven’t told me what the plan is—apart from a fake marriage to fool the squizzes.”

      “Squizzes” had been C.J.’s derogatory term for the paparazzi when he’d been part of End Game, after all the endless intrusions into their lives. Nobody knew where he’d gotten the term from, but in the end they’d all ended up using it. The memory made her smile. But as she was about to comment on it she looked at him—really looked—and closed her mouth. By the way he was rubbing his jaw, with whitened fingertips, exhaustion was taking over again.

      No wonder he sounded cranky.

      She drew in a breath, recalling every word of her perfectly rehearsed plan. “We head to Bali or Fiji for an overnight wedding on the beach—probably Fiji; it’s closer—and allow ‘a source close to the couple’ to leak the news about an impulsive marriage they don’t expect to last beyond a few weeks.”

      His answering grin was wry. “I can’t count the amount of ‘close sources’ who know more about my life than I do.”

      She laughed. “I know. I wish I knew what jerk gave me that ‘ice cream’ tag—sweet, but freezing cold.”

      “You mean it’s not true?”

      “About as true as you sleeping with a fourteen-year-old, or Dad’s last three stints in rehab,” she shot back, hurt, even though his tone had been teasing.

      After a moment the grin faded, and he nodded. “Fair enough. It seems you’re not the only one who’s made stupid assumptions. Sorry, Mia. Go on.”

      So he really thought it of her—sweet and cold? Was that how everyone saw her? Granted, she’d given due respect to her mother’s warnings, but—

      What had he said she did? Put the human race at a distance …?

      She shook off the self-doubt. There was no time for it. “We stay on some exclusive island until some bright squiz gets a shot of us getting hot and heavy or romantic—”

      “So that much touching is allowed?” he murmured, with another grin.

      “—and then we take Dad’s jet to another island, or North Queensland. When they find us there, we head somewhere unexpected … your pick,” she went on, as if she hadn’t heard him. If he made another “ice cream” comment, she’d—

      “The СКАЧАТЬ