His Princess: (A novella from the world of House of Payne) Page 6

  “Why?”

  “Apparently he’s picking me up for a long weekend.”

  “That sounds kind of authoritative but potentially fun,” Alice said after a moment. “At least now you know he didn’t forget about you. That should make you feel better.”

  “Who does he think he is, ordering me to clear my decks like that? The nerve.” Slamming the lid back onto the admittedly gorgeous princess flowers, Joelle tossed the card onto the coffee table and jammed her hands on her hips. “Can you believe this guy? He ignores me for days, and then he assumes I’d be free for an entire weekend. It’s like he thinks I’m just sitting around, waiting by the phone with bated breath for him to remember I exist.”

  “That’s kind of accurate, actually.”

  “Completely beside the point.” Joelle waved an impatient hand. For heaven’s sake, whose side was Alice on? “The point is that he’s made the assumption that I don’t have anything better to do with my life than jump when he barks an order.”

  “He didn’t bark any orders, Joelle. He wrote a note and stuck it in some princess flowers.”

  “Same difference.” Obviously. Why couldn’t Alice see that? “I have half a mind to not even be here when he shows up at three, just to show him who’s boss.”

  “Uh-huh.” With a patient sigh, Alice turned and headed down the short hall that led to the master bedroom.

  With her scowl fading into bewilderment, Joelle trailed after her. “Wait, Al. Where are you going?”

  “I’m cutting to the chase.”

  What in the world. “What does that even mean?”

  “It means I know you, Jo.” Alice made a beeline for Joelle’s walk-in closet and began rifling through her neatly hanging clothes. “What’s the weather going to be like later on tonight? Autumn is always such a tough call in Chicago—sunny one minute and blizzarding the next.”

  “I think it’s supposed to be warm all weekend. Please, Alice—”

  “Warm is good.” Snagging up a few items, Alice moved back out into the bedroom and threw them onto the bed. “It makes dressing for the occasion so much easier.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about what you’re going to be wearing when Gus picks you up at three this afternoon.”

  Joelle’s chin went up. “Excuse me, but it’s not decided that I’m going anywhere with that man. He’s an arrogant ass.”

  “Yeah, but you’re still going.” Alice held up a metallic bronze halter dress and a deep teal silk wraparound dress. “These two are my favorites so far. Not only are they the right colors for autumn, something I know you look for in fashion, but they’re both made to get a woman naked in under ten seconds. Which one do you prefer?”

  Joelle stared at her. “Didn’t you hear me? I don’t think I’m going to go. In fact, I’ve just decided—I’m not going out with Gus. At least not tonight. He needs to learn the lesson that he can’t take me for granted that way.”

  Again, Alice sighed. “Jo, you’re going. I know it, and so do you, so now the question is what you’re going to wear. The halter dress is probably easier to get naked with—basically all you have to do is unhook the fastening at the nape and it just falls off the body. I don’t know, though. Everything about this dress is so obvious, you know? Like you’re freaking begging him to make you naked. He has been kind of inattentive the past four days, so you don’t want to look like you’re going too easy on him. My money’s on the wraparound dress. Fully clothed and demure, yet one tug on that belt and you’re Lady Godiva without the horse.”

  “Alice Kathleen Halliday, you need to listen to me. I’m not going simply because that arrogant man ordered me to.”

  “You’re right. There’s no way you’d go because of that.” Laying the two choices back on the bed, Alice turned to face her, arms crossed. “You’re going to go because deep down it’s what you want to do. Admit it.”

  Joelle hissed at her. “Sometimes it really sucks, you knowing me so well.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, this Gus guy’s not really in control of this situation. You are. You’re going to choose to accompany him because you’re a powerful woman who knows her own mind, and it pleases you to have some fun with him.”

  “Hm.” Joelle sent a dubious look at the clothes on the bed. “It certainly feels like he’s the one in control.”

  “Do you want to go out with him?”

  “Of course I do. He’s riveting and sexy, and for crying out loud, he has dimples. For four days I’ve thought of nothing else but Gus and his dimples, but I don’t want to cede anything.”

  “You’re not ceding a damn thing if you go after what you want. Go and enjoy yourself, because that’s what you want to do. What you don’t want to do is turn this into some kind of one-upmanship power struggle, the way you did when you wanted to show that Emerson jackass what he’d thrown away. That’s just your pride, and you’re better than that. Do yourself a favor and make the choice to grab for what you want—which, at the moment, happens to be Gus. And when you do, know that you’re the one who’s made that choice, so you’re the one who’s in control. Now,” she went on while Joelle chewed on that, “which is it going to be? The halter, or the wraparound?”

  The edgy, vaguely unappreciated feeling Gus’s near-silence had spawned in her, along with a healthy dose of injured pride ebbed under Alice’s words. Bottom-lining it, her foster sister was right; she did want to go out with Gus, but her pride was trying to make her miserable about it. The question of whether or not she should go wasn’t about who had more power in this budding relationship. It was simply about whether or not she wanted to enjoy his company.

  And she did.

  She really did.

  But if he ever again made her feel like he was taking her for granted, there would be hell to pay.

  “The wraparound, I think.” Head held high, she headed for the closet. “I’ve got some studded Alexander McQueen stilettos that’ll go perfectly with that. And if he pisses me off in any way this evening, I can always stab him in the eye with one of them.”

  “It’s always good to have a fallback plan,” Alice agreed.

  Chapter Six

  Waiting for three o’clock to roll around was far too nerve-wracking for Joelle to even contemplate, so after her foster sister left, she threw herself into her work. Clearing her decks, she thought, focusing on a transition from one segment of video to another. She’d clear her decks, but not because Gus had told her to. Alice was right about that, as usual. Far from following orders, Joelle chose to do exactly what she wanted to do, which was getting the lion’s share of her latest video done so she wouldn’t have it hanging over her head throughout the weekend.

  This weekend was all about focusing on Gus, the man who’d somehow managed to become the center of her attention.

  By the time her doorbell rang a couple minutes to three, her video was just about done with the exception of the voice-overs and music. But that would have to wait until Monday. As of now, she had a man to seduce.

  “Hey.” The witty remark she had all set up and ready to fly abruptly vanished when she swung the door open and saw Gus standing there. Over the past four days she had all but convinced herself that no man could be as drop-dead gorgeous and hubba-hubba sexy as Gus had been painted in her mind. Somehow she had glorified him, made him something he wasn't. Surely he couldn't be that perfect for her.

  But now she knew.

  Real-life Gus was even better than memory Gus.

  By a longshot.

  “Hey.” His hand came up, hooked around her nape, and pulled her in for a kiss. She'd expected it to be just a peck in greeting, but it was a proper kiss, complete with just the right amount of tongue and more than a hint of passion.

  Wow.

  When he finally stepped back, she had to consciously will herself to let him go. “Whew. You really know how to bring the heat, don't you?”

  “I know how to bring a lot of things.” His russe
t brown eyes moved over her face like he couldn't drink in the sight of her fast enough. “You gonna invite me in?”

  “Oh. Of course.” Flustered, she opened the door wide and swept an inviting hand. “Make yourself at home. Would you like something to drink?”

  “I'm good. Nice place,” he added, wandering into the sunlit, white-on-white living room that showed up so well as a background for her videos. “I think I recognize that fireplace from online.”

  “You're basically standing in my offsite studio.” She nodded toward the bay window where her workstation was. It was a pretty sweet setup, with a 4K-quality camera and ring light, a couple HD monitors, a wireless keyboard, her laptop, a microphone, a mixing board and other gizmos. “That's where the magic happens. As per your request, I just uploaded a video onto my own channel, and my latest assignment for Buzzword, which is due next Wednesday, is almost done—just needs sound. My decks are cleared. What are the plans?”

  “It’s a surprise. You’ve been busy.” His path wound back to her, and she loved how he didn’t hesitate in pulling her to him. “Too busy to miss me?”

  “Were you trying to make me miss you?” Because it worked.

  He shook his head. “I don’t play shitty little mind games like that. If I’m out of touch it’s because I’m buried in a crazy shit storm of work and barely have time to breathe.”

  Ah. “So that’s what happened to you this week?”

  “Pretty much, but I was also pushing hard to make sure I wouldn’t have any distractions this weekend. As of now, the only thing I want to do is focus on you.”

  “I like the sound of that.” Since his words soothed the insecure tail-chasing she’d done over the past four days, she smiled and shook her head. “And for what it’s worth, I did miss you, just as much as I wondered if I’d simply become another link in your princess chain.”

  Those dimples that she found so irresistible deepened. “I thought you said you weren’t a princess.”

  Dang it. “I’m anything but a princess, thank you very much. I’m a hard-working career woman, with every intention of reaching the top of my career. And don’t forget, I’d rather be a queen than a princess.”

  “Who knew ambition could be so damn sexy?” Bending to kiss her once more, he eventually broke away just as she was falling headfirst into a blissed-out fog. “You pack a bag?”

  “I did.” She heard how breathless she sounded and could only shake her head at how utterly susceptible she was when it came to this man. “I wasn’t sure if it should be an overnight kind of deal or if my entire weekend was booked, so I actually packed two bags to cover all the bases. I’m thorough like that.”

  “Got to admire a woman who likes to be prepared for all occasions.” A chuckle escaped him, and he gave her a squeeze before letting her go. “Go grab the weekend bag and let’s bounce. I want to get this weekend started.”

  “Yay,” she said, while her pulse rocketed into the stratosphere.

  The weekend.

  Two days.

  And two nights.

  Starting tonight.

  It was a wonder he didn’t hear her heart beating from all the way across the room.

  “You know, eventually you’re going to have to let me in on where we’re going,” Joelle said as she settled into the passenger seat of his sleek silver Jaguar F-TYPE that reminded her strongly of her old Beemer two-seater sports car. “I promise not to tell any of your clients where you’re hiding.”

  “That’s big of you.” Heading toward the freeway, he gestured to the digital radio. “Feel free to put on your favorite kind of music.”

  “Don’t you have a favorite station?”

  “I want to see what you pick.”

  “Aha, a test. Moreover, a test designed to distract me from the fact that you didn’t answer.” With a smile, she leaned on the console between their seat and started punching buttons. “Fun. I’ll take the bait.”

  “You are, you know. Fun.” He shot her a quick glance before getting into an exit lane. “I didn’t expect that from you.”

  “What did you expect?”

  “Cultured tastes, lofty standards, maybe a little spoiled and a lot demanding. High maintenance from start to finish.”

  “Wow.” It was her turn to give him a sidelong glance while she struggled not to be offended. “With a list like that, it’s a wonder you even spoke to me.”

  “So you’re not high maintenance?”

  “I’m not demanding, at least not of anyone except myself. And the only lofty standards I have is making sure my created content is better than anyone else’s on the internet. In fact, I’m a perfectionist on that score. But that doesn’t carry over into my personal life, or how I view other people. I’m a live-and-let-live kind of person, generally speaking. What about you?”

  “I’m usually too busy to give a shit what people are doing or how they live their lives, and you and I have the same perfectionist quirk, which isn’t a bad thing. I still hold that you’re high maintenance, though, but that’s also not a bad thing. I’m high maintenance, too.”

  “I’ll be the judge of whether or not that’s a bad thing,” she muttered, then zeroed in on a genre of music. “What makes you say you’re high maintenance?”

  “I like getting what I want, and I don’t stop until I get it.”

  “That’s not high maintenance. That’s just knowing your own mind.”

  “So that doesn’t freak you out?”

  Surprised, she glanced up from the list of stations. “Why would it?”

  “Because I want you.”

  “Ah.” She let her gaze linger on him as she mulled that one over, before hitting a station. “I guess that slipped my notice. I’ve been too distracted by how much I want you, and I have a box of condoms in my bag to prove it. Now tell me… does that freak you out?”

  “I doubt you bought the right size.” He grinned, then navigated a freeway flyover and another off-ramp, heading away from downtown. “Well, well. Grunge rock. I never would’ve guessed.”

  She grinned. “I’m full of surprises.”

  “What about the surprise I’m working on now? Any ideas on where we’re headed yet?”

  She saw a familiar sign. “Not the airport?”

  “Yep.”

  “We’re going to the airport?” Stunned, she stared at him. “Why? What’s at the airport?”

  “Planes.”

  Ha-ha. “I bet you think you’re funny.”

  “I never actually bet, and I’m not as funny as you, asking what’s at an airport.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “That’s still a surprise. But,” he added when she made a sound of frustration, “I’ll give you a hint. Something you said when I took you to Gillooly’s inspired this weekend getaway.”

  “I said a lot of things when we were at Gillooly’s,” she muttered, sifting through her memory to try to find one word that would inspire something as jaw-droppingly dramatic as a plane ride. “I don’t remember saying anything that would inspire a trip across town, much less one that requires travel by freaking plane.”

  “I guess you weren’t paying attention. Lucky for you, I was.”

  “Give me another hint.”

  “Nope,” he said, wheeling away from the main road leading to the terminals and heading down a two-lane road she’d never traveled before. “You’re just going to have to wait and see.”

  Five minutes later she was no less enlightened as to their destination, but she did have an answer as to why she’d never traveled this particular road while at the airport. Even at the height of the Fielding family fortune, her family had always traveled commercial.

  A private plane, on the other hand, was a whole different level of swank.

  “Wow.” She stared as Gus drove up directly to a sleek-looking white jet with the door open and stairs down, then hastily opened her door when he got out to hand the keys to an awaiting attendant. “This is… wow.”

  Gus glanced back a
t her before passing off their luggage to another attendant. “Glad you like it.”

  “I just want you to know that if you were trying to impress me, you’ve more than done the job, pal.” Shaking her head, she moved to take his hand when he held it out to her. “I mean, who charters a private plane just for a no-pressure weekend getaway?”

  “Not me. I didn’t charter a damn thing. I own this bird.”

  “Shut up,” she blurted, though it was amazing she was able to say anything. Her jaw had dropped so much it was a miracle it hadn’t hit the tarmac. “You own a plane?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “I do a lot of traveling to meet up with my clientele. In the long run, it was more convenient to go this route.”

  Holy shit. “And here I thought day-traders did nothing but hang out in the house all day, working their five-dozen computers while chugging Red Bull and wearing nothing but boxers and a bathrobe.”

  “Hey, don’t knock Red Bull. Also, my workstation at home has six monitors going, and I’ve only done the boxer and bathrobe thing when I caught the flu a couple years ago. Ready to meet the captain?”

  “Sure,” she said faintly, trying not to totter as they headed toward the uniformed woman standing by the jet. “Though at this point I’m surprised you’re not flying us yourself. You seem to know how to do everything else.”

  “I do want to learn someday, but for now I’m glad I’m not the one doing the flying. I want to spend the next four hours getting to know you, and I could never do that while also flying a plane.”

  The next four hours, she thought as they passed pleasantries with the smiling, capable-looking woman who was going to fly them to their destination. A destination that was four hours away.

  Good grief, that could be anywhere.

  Twenty minutes later they were in the air, and Joelle’s eyes were everywhere. The plane’s interior was as lavish as she’d expected, with touches of burled wood accents on the walls and swivel chairs. The chairs also reclined, their tufted backs as comfortable as any easy chair, though she kept herself buckled in like the conscientious traveler she was. As soon as they leveled off, a flight attendant brought mojitos and a small charcuterie board of grapes and strawberries, cold meats and cubed cheese. Joelle stared first at the mouth-watering board, then at the drink in her hand.