Текст книги "Rock Redemption"

Автор книги: Nalini Singh

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“Carpet’s thick,” Kit said, keeping her voice low. “We can sit on it.”

 “Wait.” Noah put down the tray, then shrugged off his tuxedo jacket and laid it on the ground. “Now you can sit, my lady.”

She half smiled, half shook her head at him as she turned the coat over so it was the inside surface that touched the carpet. Sitting down, she said, “Your shirt might get dirty, but at least you’ll be respectable when we sneak back in.”

“Good thinking.” He tried not to watch as she kicked off her heels and flexed her feet. The red lines the straps had made on each foot looked as if they could do with a massage, and he almost offered. Only he didn’t think he could have Kit’s foot in his lap and not betray how much he wanted her.

Not for fucking, for everything.

“Mmm.” She bit into a toasted little rectangle of bread topped with what might’ve been hummus and sun-dried tomato.

Her lips pressed together in pleasure so lush that– Shut it the hell down, Noah.

“Try this one.” Head bent to the tray, Kit picked up something on a toothpick. “I think it’s a prune wrapped in bacon and roasted.”

Thankful for the shadows that hid his internal battle, he accepted the dubious-sounding piece of food. His eyes widened on tasting it. “This is seriously good shit.”

“I know.” Kit ate two before dropping the toothpicks on the tiny pile they’d made on one side of the tray. “I always used to think this place would be creepy at night, but it’s kind of fun.”

The ensuing fifteen minutes passed by in a heartbeat. Afterward, Noah couldn’t have said what they spoke about, only that it felt like it had before—when Kit had smiled at him without masks and he’d been able to breathe. No weight pressing down on his chest, no knots twisting his guts. When he was with Kit like this, he could breathe.

“We should go back,” she said too soon, and he imagined he heard reluctance. “The auction will be over in a few minutes, and people will notice if you’re not there.”

Noah didn’t think he was the one who was the shining star, but he knew she was right. Someone was always looking for a story. Shrugging into his jacket, he stood in place while Kit went around the back and brushed it off.

“It’s not wrinkled enough that anyone will notice, especially with the gentle lighting.”

Picking up the tray while Kit grabbed the empty glasses after slipping on her shoes, they snuck back in, leaving the incriminating items on a table by the door and merging smoothly back into the gala.

He received the message from Thea less than a minute after that. “Bullshit,” he muttered, staring at the phone screen in disbelief. “You two are punking me, right?”

Peeking when he turned the phone in her direction, Kit grinned. “Konnichiwa,” she said in an oh-so-helpful tone. “It means ‘hello’ in Japanese.”

He scowled even though he just wanted to watch that silent laughter in the amber of her eyes. “I’m going to murder the damn designer who called her.”

“I think he has good taste,” Kit said, her smile even deeper. “You rock a tux.”

Okay, yeah, it felt good to hear her say that. Worth a trip to a gardener in Japan.

When the music started up seconds later, the final round of bidding complete, Noah could no longer fight his need. Waiting only until there were enough couples on the floor that they wouldn’t stand out, he leaned down to Kit’s ear. “Dance with me?”

Her lashes lifted, her eyes holding his for a potent moment that hung endlessly in time before she nodded. They moved as one onto the dance floor, one of Kit’s hands in his, his other arm around her waist, her free hand on his shoulder, fingers almost brushing his neck.

Noah danced often, onstage and in the clubs he hit with the others in the band, but never had a dance meant more. Swaying to the classical sounds filling the room, Kit in his arms, he felt… happy.

But the clock eventually had to strike midnight, and he had to take Kit home, watch her step inside. When she closed the door, she took the happiness with her.

Kit was dreaming of Noah’s arms around her, music soft in the air and the world beyond nothing but a hazy mirage, when that world intruded with a persistent and highly annoying ringtone. She came awake on a groan. That was her landline. Only a rare few people had the number, and if one of them was calling her at—she cracked open an eyelid—six in the morning, then it had to be important.

Stumbling to the kitchen where she last remembered seeing the cordless receiver, she managed to push the right button to answer it. “Hello.” It came out a mumble.

“Go throw some water on your face and get a cup of coffee,” Thea ordered. “I’ll call back in three minutes.”

The dial tone buzzed in her ear.

Kit stared at the receiver, almost sure she’d imagined the whole thing, but then why else would she be holding a phone in her hand while her publicist’s commanding tone reverberated in her head. Her publicist! Heart slamming into her ribs, she dropped the phone on the counter, flicked on the coffeemaker, and ran to the bathroom. If Thea was calling her this early, it either meant very good news or very bad news.

Chapter 16

Water thrown on face and teeth quickly brushed for good measure, Kit pulled on her kimono-style blue silk robe over the thigh-length slip she wore as nightwear, stuffed her feet into her favorite slippers, and made her way to the kitchen. It was already light outside, and despite her late night, she didn’t feel too ragged.

Maybe because the hours with Noah had felt like a dream, as haunting and as insubstantial as mist—you couldn’t capture it, except in your memories, no matter how hard you tried.

Trying not to sink back into the fragile and fleeting perfection of it, she’d just reached the counter when the phone rang again. She picked it up at once. “Thea, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” the other woman said. “Something could be very right if we manage it correctly.”

Exhaling, Kit took a shaky breath. “Next time, tell me that.”

“Hey, I called you at six. If it was a problem, you’d get a call at three.” Thea sounded chipper as a bird. “So, last night’s gala was good?”

“It was wonderful.” A beautiful, heartbreaking pretense. “We didn’t steal any of Tierney’s artwork, and Noah didn’t punch any reporters, so the gala can’t be the issue.”

“Are you kidding?” Thea laughed. “You got amazing coverage everywhere. Which is what we need to talk about.”

Coffee having finished brewing, Kit poured herself a cup and spooned in a teaspoon of sugar. That was her one indulgence, the single thing she’d never given up, not even for a costume of body paint and Lycra. Life wouldn’t have been worth living without her once-a-day treat of sweet coffee.

Drawing in the aroma and moaning silently, she said, “Did we get some exciting interview requests?” It must be prime time if Thea was so buzzed. Kit’s own adrenaline kicked in at the thought, her cells jumping.

“Something like that—it’ll be easier if I show you. Hold on.” Sounds in the background. “Looks like our favorite channel’s cycling the story after the ad break. Switch on the television.”

Padding into the living room, coffee in hand, Kit brought up the well-known entertainment channel and settled into her sofa to wait as the ads played. “I met a couple of big movers and shakers last night,” she told Thea in the interim. “Noah did me a big favor taking me to this shindig.”

“I’ll say.”

Thea’s words had just cleared the air when the early morning host came on.

 

And in today’s breaking exclusive, it looks like things are finally getting hot and heavy between bad-boy rocker Noah St. John and Oscar-nominated actress Kathleen Devigny. The two have been friends for years, but last night, they stepped out as a couple for the first time, and boy, did they look good together.

 

Just between you and me, our sources tell us they’ve been a couple since the band’s sellout tour. We don’t blame these two lovebirds for being so secretive, because talk about chemistry! This may be the Tinseltown romance of the year. Stay tuned for more.

 

Kit stared at the screen, coffee forgotten. It filled with a shot of her laughing up at Noah while he looked down at her. She swallowed, not able to blame the media for jumping to conclusions… because right then, in that moment caught by the cameras, they looked like they adored one another.

Then came a playful image of her blowing him a kiss. Another of the two of them climbing the steps, Noah’s hand on her lower back, a final shot of Noah grinning as he took photos of her. The montage made them appear a couple so comfortable with one another that neither the cameras nor the lights caused any anxiety.

Chest hurting, she muted the TV. “We’ve been to other things together,” she said to Thea. “Why is everyone jumping on this?”

“Did you see that first photograph?” Thea asked. “It’s like you set it up for maximum impact.”

“I didn’t!”

“I’m not saying you did, but Noah’s wearing an impeccably fitted tuxedo. Noah never wears anything but ripped jeans and T-shirts. Everyone is gushing about how romantic it is that he cleaned himself up for your first big night out together as a couple.”

Kit groaned, dropping her head back on the sofa and pinching the bridge of her nose between forefinger and thumb. “He did that for his aunt, not for me.”

“Details, details.” Brushing off Kit’s comment, Thea continued. “However it happened, it’s happened. Now we ride the wave of publicity.”

“Why? How?”

“You know why—you’re a contender for a number of big roles, but you’re being pushed aside by actresses who know how to work the media.”

“I know how to work the media.” Kit glared at the television. “I just don’t want to live my life in front of the paparazzi. And there’s Terrence.”

“He’ll have to cool his heels.”

“There’s no reason—”

“Redemption.”

Kit sat up at that single word, her throat dry. “But the casting director told Harper I wasn’t big enough for the role.” She’d read for it, was certain she’d impressed the director, so the rebuff had come as a big disappointment.

“Yeah, well, my spies are telling me that you might be back in with a shot. Apparently, you impressed the right people at the gala last night, and this morning’s positive publicity has been the cherry on top.”

Kit could barely breathe.

Redemption was one of the most incredible scripts she’d ever read, and it was being directed by a multiple-Oscar-winning director who’d made icons out of previously little-known actors and actresses. Even though Kit had earned her stripes in Last Flight, the ex-soap-actress tag was a hard one to totally shake off. One hit wasn’t enough; everyone was waiting to see if she’d fly high or fall flat on her face.

If she was cast in Redemption, even in the secondary role for which she’d read, that was it. She’d be recognized as a legitimate actress, would no longer have to fight so damn hard for every role. “How can your spies know that?” she whispered, barely able to believe what Thea was telling her. “It’s six in the morning.”

“Do you know why I’m so freaking expensive? It’s because I don’t sleep and I have spies everywhere.” Thea’s words were dry. “Just trust me on this—last night was very, very good for your career. Now all you have to do is keep the romance going for another month or so—”

“Wait, wait!” Kit got jerkily to her feet. “There is no romance, not between me and Noah. You know that.”

“Of course I know that,” Thea muttered. “But for the next month, or at least until they finish casting Redemption, there has to be—the money people have to see that you can hold the public’s attention in a positive way. If the media’s lapping you up, it makes you the next hot thing, and that equals free promotion for the movie.”

Pacing from one end of the room to the other, Kit shoved a trembling hand through her hair. “But Esra Dali doesn’t care about promotion,” she said, naming the difficult but brilliant director. “He chooses who he chooses.”

“Esra is one of the sharpest operators in the business,” Thea retorted. “He’s an artist, no doubt about it, and he won’t choose a vacuous ‘it’ girl for his movie, but if it’s a contest between two equally talented, equally charismatic actors, he’ll inevitably choose the one with the stronger media profile.”

A small pause as Thea sipped from what was probably her third coffee of the morning. “He knows he’ll lose his backers if he can’t make them money—and without those backers and their financing he can’t tell the sweeping stories he likes to tell, because those stories require serious budgets.”

Shaking all over, Kit put a hand over her mouth and tried to think. “You know Noah, Thea,” she said at last, her stomach a lump of ice. “He isn’t a one-woman guy.” It hurt her to say that, hurt her to remember all the women he’d slept with. Broken glass thrust directly into her veins couldn’t have hurt that much.

“Then you have to convince him to behave for a few weeks,” Thea ordered. “Because while this publicity could make you, it could also tank you. If he’s caught with a groupie, you go from being one half of Hollywood’s hottest couple to the woman scorned.”

The brutally pragmatic words sent Kit to her knees, but Thea wasn’t finished. “You’ll get pity while he’ll come out the stud. Because the world’s not fair, and a woman who ‘can’t keep her man’—as I promise you the story will be spun by the tabloids—is not someone people want to emulate or to follow. You’ll become toxic until I can clean up your image, and that’ll take time.”

Kit’s head felt stuffy, her eyes hot. She wanted to argue with Thea, but she knew the other woman was right: the world wasn’t fair. Everyone wanted their silver screen idols to be winners in real life too. Even her superhero movie might tank if people began to pity her. Kickass superheroes didn’t get dumped.

And still… “No, Thea,” she whispered, her throat raw. “I won’t use Noah that way.” It wasn’t his fault this had spun out of control.

“He’s your friend—”

“No,” Kit said again, conscious Thea was operating with a handicap. She didn’t know Kit and Noah’s history, didn’t know that not only would Kit not force Noah into an untenable position, she wasn’t sure her heart could take the charade. She was too afraid it’d start to believe the illusion was real.

“Kit, this is serious.”

“I know. I’ll take my chances.” She’d started out in the movies in a low-budget film—she’d do that again. No matter how much damage this did to her image, she was still an Oscar-nominated actress. Someone would hire her, and even if her career trajectory took a dip, it wouldn’t be forever. She’d make it back out.

Strong thoughts, but as she hung up, her mind raced like a rabbit, her skin hot. She’d worked so hard for her career, and it was all about to go up in smoke. Heat suddenly turned to ice. The cosmetics contract she was relying on to get her out of a huge financial hole wasn’t yet final… and there was every likelihood Noah would pick up a woman again tonight.

Kit pressed her fists to her closed eyes but couldn’t stop her mind from thundering ahead, couldn’t stop her gut from roiling.

The blowback would begin the instant Noah’s latest sexual conquest hit the tabloids. Chances were high she’d lose that contract. Nobody wanted to buy anything from a loser.

Eyes gritty, she wondered how it had all gone so wrong.

Noah was out by the pool listening to music, hoarding the memories from last night, and fixing a broken string on his oldest Breedlove guitar, when his phone chimed. Seeing Thea’s name on the screen, he put it on speaker so he could continue to work while he spoke with her.

“Hey, doll,” he said, grinning as he used a term that was so not Thea. “David want something?”

“No, I want something.”

“Yeah? What can the PR goddess want with a mere mortal?” Frowning in concentration, he checked the tension. “I already did my quota of publicity.”

“It’s about Kit.”

All at once, she had his absolute attention. Propping the guitar against the table on which his phone sat, he took the phone off speaker and put it to his ear. “What about Kit?”

As Thea spoke, he felt his lips curve. “That’s fucking great,” he said after she told him about Kit being in the running for Redemption.

“Only if you can keep it in your pants.”

Hand clenching on the phone at the razor-sharp words, he said, “You’d better explain that.”

When she did, he just stared out at the cold, clear water of the pool. “You’re serious? If we don’t pull off the happy-couple routine, it could crash her career?”

“The damage potential is high.” Thea spelled it out for him.

Elbows braced on his thighs, Noah wondered exactly how pissed Kit was at him right then. “What does Kit say?”

“She’ll probably fire me for going over her head, but I’m not a publicist because I’m a quivering lily. This could hurt her badly, Noah.” The sound of messages coming in on what might’ve been Thea’s computer. “She says she doesn’t want to use you, but it would be mutual. Schoolboy Choir fans are just as excited about the hookup—I’ve been watching it trend across social media since the news hit.”

“I don’t care about my profile or the band’s.” Noah fisted his free hand, bones pushing white against skin. “If Kit needs me, I’m there.”

“Can you keep it in your pants while you’re officially together?” Blunt as an ax, Thea kept going. “Because if you can’t, then I have to start putting out denials and you two have to laugh off any relationship rumors. We can mitigate the damage at least. If only you and Kit hadn’t looked so cozy—Oh fuck!”

Noah sat up. Thea rarely swore. Whatever the situation, she handled it. “What?” he asked. “Goddammit, Thea, what?”

“Did you two sneak off for your own little picnic last night?” Thea sounded like she was gnashing her teeth. “It looks like a waitress followed you, got a photograph. It’s not the best shot, but added to the red carpet photos and the waitress’s story of how ‘adorable’ you two were being, this makes damage control a pipe dream. No one’s going to believe a denial, and it’ll all turn to shit the instant you’re seen with another woman.”

“I’ll do it,” Noah snarled. “I won’t have Kit exposed to the fucking vipers.”

“You have to be sure, Noah,” Thea said. “You have to be dead certain you can stay faithful to her for the entire time you’re together. At least three and a half weeks to a month—Redemption might be cast earlier, but whatever happens, you have to keep it going long enough that it looks real.”

She took a breath before continuing. “At that point, I can extricate you both with a little fancy footwork. You and Kit will decide you were more suited to being friends after all, and as long as you keep everything friendly and you both start dating new people around the same time, it’ll all blow over.”

“Yes, I’m sure.” If he had to, he’d take the sleeping pills he hated. Given the bile-inducing side effect, he’d long ago decided he’d rather anaesthetize himself with random fucks since he got about the same amount of sleep either way. But if it would protect Kit, he’d take the pills.

“All right, I’ll talk to her,” Thea said at last.

“No.” Noah knew Kit, knew this had to come from him. “I’m going to drive over to her place. We’ll call you once we’ve sorted things out between ourselves.”

Chapter 17

Noah drove to Kit’s in his Mustang, the top down. The gleaming black convertible had two silver stripes front to back and was even more distinctive a vehicle than Fox’s Aventador.

He saw the TV vans and photographers milling around her gate the instant he hit her street. Kit clearly hadn’t emerged yet because the media had that bored air to them that shouted disappointment. All that changed the instant a blond paparazzo spotted his car.

A lightning strike of camera flashes.

Taking a deep breath, he slowed down instead of blasting through the paps with his horn blaring. They actually allowed him to turn so that his car was in front of Kit’s gate, likely because that gave them a shot of him heading to see her, but then they swarmed.

He braced his arm on the door, a lazy grin on his face that he’d perfected long ago. People didn’t look too deep when they saw that grin, figuring that was who he was. “Lovely morning isn’t it?” he drawled into the microphones thrust at him.

Grins all around.

 “Noah!” shouted one TV reporter. “Is it true? You and Kathleen are a couple?”

Smile deepening, he slipped off his sunglasses. “You want to get me in trouble this early in the day, Jessa?” he asked, playing the reporter like a fish on a hook.

“Come on, Noah, give us something.”

“No comment.” He laughed to take the sting out of it, slipped his sunglasses back on. “I might have one after I talk to a certain gorgeous woman, but you have to let me through first.”

They drew back, sensing juicier news to come if they gave him what he wanted. Hoping that news wouldn’t be a black eye, he roared down the drive after Butch opened the gate, the bodyguard’s flinty gaze ensuring no one dared attempt to sneak in behind Noah.

Kit threw open her front door as he brought the convertible to a stop in front of the house. Around the corner and distant from the gate, they had absolute privacy.

Stalking out to meet him as he vaulted out of the car, she put both hands on his chest and shoved. “What the hell did you think you were doing?” Her eyes sparked fire at him. “I saw you on the security cameras! You just turned this ridiculous rumor into an unkillable monster!”

“It had to be done,” he said, standing his ground. “Thea says if we—”

“Thea called you?” She gritted her teeth. “I’m going to fire her. I don’t care if she’s my friend.”

“No, you won’t. Because she’s the best in the business and she’s right.”

Ignoring his words, she stormed back into the house, her jeans-clad legs eating up the ground.

He followed, knowing where she was heading even before she used the kitchen entrance to step out into her garden. Deciding to let her stew in private, he found the green tea he knew she kept in an upper cupboard, brewed it up for her in the little ceramic pot with a metal handle. He was probably fucking it up, but it was the thought that counted right?

Putting the pot and the tiny Japanese-style handleless teacups on a tray, he grabbed a bunch of cookies from her stash and took the tray out to her. She was weeding with bare hands, her jewel-green nails bright against the weeds and her gray T-shirt as old and soft as his black one.

He put the tray on the wooden picnic table and poured her a cup. Taking it to her, he hunkered down by her side and held it out.

“You are not pacifying me with tea.”

Shrugging, he sat down with his legs stretched out in front of him and drank it himself—or tried to. “Ugh. Still just as disgusting.”

“It is not disgusting. It’s the best sencha you can get.” She grabbed the cup from him and took several sips of the hot liquid. “What was that? By the gate?”

“That was me being your friend.”

Putting the cup back in his hand, she continued to weed. “That was you being a troublemaker.” She went to pull something out, seemed to realize it wasn’t a weed, and patted the soil back in place. “Now everyone’s going to expect us to be a couple.”

“They already did.”

“Thea might have been able to defuse that.”

“Not fast enough.” He offered her more tea.

She emptied the cup, then sat on the earth, her eyes no longer on the garden. “You can’t keep it up, Noah.” It was a strained statement. “Playing the adoring boyfriend.”

He’d never had any fucking trouble adoring Kit. “I will. I promise you that.” When she looked away, he continued to speak. “I’ve never promised you anything before, Kit—that’s because when I make a promise, I don’t break it.” And he’d known he couldn’t give her what she needed. Not then. Nothing much had changed. He was still an asshole, but he would protect Kit. That was his motivation, and fuck if he’d mess it up. “I won’t let you down.”

Her gaze was raw with emotion when she finally looked at him again. “I don’t know if I can do it.”

Her pain was like knives plunging into him, slicing through his gut to leave him open and bleeding. “I can’t give you what you need in so many ways,” he said, ripping his heart open for her, “but I can help your career. I can do that. Let me, Kit. Please.” He’d never begged for anything, but he’d crawl on his hands and knees for this small chance at redemption.

Eyes stark, Kit shook her head. “How can I accept that?” A rasped whisper. “How can I use my friend?”

“You’re not using me.” He dared lay one hand against her cheek, his fingers brushing the rich silk of her hair. “I’m offering to help. That’s what friends do, right? Support each other. Let me support you in public. Let me be that guy.” Even if I can never be good enough to be your guy.

Kit’s throat moved. Not saying a word, she dusted off her hands and got up, went to the table. “Come and drink some tea.”

He took a seat, allowed her to refill his cup. Pouring another one for herself, she sat on the other side of the table. “Harper called ten minutes ago.”

“Yeah?” Not about to drink the tea but holding the cup for its warmth, his own skin chilled, he said, “What did she say?”

“Same thing Thea did. I’m apparently on everyone’s radar all at once. She’s had multiple ‘feeling things out’ calls—no one ready to commit, but people letting her know they’re watching to see how I conduct myself in the spotlight.”

Noah put aside the tea and took a cookie. It was sugar spice and it was delicious. “Pisses you off doesn’t it?”

Renewed fire in her eyes. “Hell yes. I’m a good actress who busts her balls and barely gets a little grudging recognition, but then I go out with a random musician and boom, I’m hot property?”

“Ouch.”

“You deserved it.” She bit into a cookie, chewed. “Will you humiliate me?”

The quiet question erased the laughter, made his blood go cold. “No,” he said. “Never. I promise you that.”

He knew why she was having trouble believing his promises; he might’ve never said the words out loud when they’d been friends the first time around, but it had been implied. A promise not to hurt. A promise to care. A promise to love.

“Kit.” He wanted to reach for her hand, but she’d curled it into a fist in a silent rejection. “What I did? I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. Never again will I hurt you on purpose. You have my word.”

“The groupies? Can you resist them?”

“I’ve never had a problem resisting them.” He didn’t pick up women because he was attracted to them or because he had a giant ego he needed to massage.

At Kit’s open disbelief, he thrust both hands through his hair. “Whether you want to trust me or not, you have to. There’s no other option unless you want to destroy everything you’ve spent years building.”

Kit knew he was right. It was infuriating, but he was right. She could lose her entire career because the media and the public were fascinated by a relationship that could never be. The idea of starting from close to scratch again, of going through all the rejections and closed doors, it was hard to think about. But just as hard was remembering the pain Noah could so carelessly dish out.

He’d said he wasn’t going to humiliate her, but how could she believe him, given his track record? She couldn’t. All she could do was trust in their friendship. Because one thing she did know about Noah—he didn’t let his friends down. Come concert time, he was always onstage no matter what he’d gotten up to the night before.

“All right,” she whispered. “But only until Redemption is cast. Whether that’s a yes or a no for me, things should have cooled down enough that Thea can finagle a breakup that leaves us both in a good place.”

She kept on speaking before he could reply. “Everyone understands friends to lovers doesn’t always work. As long as you don’t get caught with a woman in the interim, we should be fine.”

Noah’s face was strained, and she had the feeling this was hurting him, but she couldn’t sugarcoat things. False truths would only hurt them both in the end. As it was, she wasn’t sure she could survive pretending he was hers for even a short three or four weeks. It was like being handed the most wonderful gift in the world, only to be told it wasn’t really yours. It was just on loan. You couldn’t touch, couldn’t have. Just pretend.

“Deal,” he said and took a deep breath, then released it. “If we want to keep the media on our side, we have to give them a bite.”

Kit felt her jaw muscles lock but nodded. “Let’s drive out, grab a coffee.”

“I’ve got a better idea. How about I take you to breakfast at Pierre Baudin?”

“I think you have delusions of grandeur,” she said, relieved to be back on a normal footing. “That place is booked up months in advance.” Even though it had only opened six months ago, Chef Pierre Baudin’s cafe and restaurant was quickly becoming “the” place to see and be seen.

Noah’s eyes sparkled. “Watch and learn.” Pulling out his phone, he made a call, said, “Bonjour, mon ami.” A pause. “Fuck you, JP, you know that’s the only French I know.” It was said with the ease of a man who knew the person on the other end wouldn’t take offense. “Yeah, yeah. So, can you fit in my girl and me today?”

My girl.

The words stabbed at her.

Kit forced herself to breathe past it. She’d have to do that in public, couldn’t afford to betray just how much the charade was hurting her. The media saw everything, and if this was going to work, she had to put on the performance of her life.

“Thanks—and oh yeah, we come with a paparazzi entourage who’ll splash your place everywhere you want it splashed.” Hanging up on a stream of what sounded like curses on his birth, Noah grinned. “And we’re in.”

“Since when do you know temperamental chefs who’ve taken restaurants to the coveted third Michelin star? And what’s with calling him JP?”

“Remember the whole boarding-school-as-networking thing? JP was there—his full name is Jean Pierre Baudin.” He scowled. “Christ, that means my father was right.”

 “Ah well.” She patted his hand. “At least he need never know that you networked your way to a table at the hottest place in town.” Getting up, she said, “Let me change.” While Noah could turn up in disreputable jeans and a plain black T-shirt, his feet clad in heavy black boots with more than one scar and scuff, she had to be done up to the nines or the gossip blogs would immediately start printing tut-tutting stories about how it was a shame she’d let herself go.