Falling for Mr Wrong (7 page)

“Thank you.” A huge sigh released the tightness in her chest. “Those men scared me.”

His face softened. “I’m glad you called.”

“When they started thumping the door and it looked like the lock would break, I almost…” Tilly swallowed back the words she had almost blurted out to the reporters. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Bastards,” he muttered under his breath.

“When I threatened the reporters with security, they all laughed at me.”

“You?” His eyebrows shot up as his eyes travelled from her head to her bare feet. “You threatened the London press? Did you really think they would just go because you asked nicely?”

A blush seared her cheeks and her jaw muscles clenched.

Had she imagined the heated interest in his eyes just moments before?

She straightened her shoulders, drawing herself to her full height. Her gaze smacked into his chest, and the black tee stretched tight against it.

Darn his height!

Darn his impressive pecs.

And darn her for noticing.

She was angry and insulted, not interested.

“Perhaps I should have offered them sex? After all I am the Naughty Nanny.”

“That’s great as a diversion but do you think offers of sex with a good-looking woman would make them leave?” he drawled.

He thinks I’m good-looking?
Her heart performed a jig. “Stop saying things that make me laugh. I’m supposed to be scared and getting over an ordeal.”

His smile vanished. “It wasn’t a joke.”

“It wasn’t?” Goose bumps scattered across her arms as her heart skipped a beat.

That heated look of his was back. Dark eyes caught and held hers. Her toes curled on the cold floor tiles as her tummy flip-flopped.

A blurred movement to the left caught her eye. Too late. “Oww.” She massaged the growing red mark on her shin.

A man trailed by four young boys approached and grabbed the football. “Are you okay?”

“I’ve got brothers.”

He tugged the youngest towards him. “Sam, apologise to the lady, please. I told you not to play football inside.”

Tilly looked down into the bright eyes of a red-faced little boy.

“Sorry.”

His apology was as sincere as when Stanley Porter ground her brand new lipstick into the sandpit.

The accompanying cheeky chuckle made her smile, tugging at heart strings that were still attached to the Porter children.

She ruffled his hair before he scooted off, the others close in tow.

The father shot her apologetic shrug of the shoulders before sprinting to catch up with the kids.

She turned back to Nate. Arms crossed, shoulders stiff, he looked as approachable as a snake ready to strike. This was not the man who snatched kisses with her in a public place and made her legs as firm as jelly. Couldn’t he come back?

He grabbed her arm steering them towards her room. “You need to get out of here.”

Take-charge-Nate was back. The skin around his jaw was tight whilst his lips were pursed in a disapproving line.

“I’ve already organised it.”

He stopped to look at her. His steely dark eyes bore down. “What?”

“I’m going to Jerusalem.” She declared with a determined tilt of her chin.

“Why don’t you post it as an update on Facebook?”

Fire burned low in her stomach as she caught the roll of his eyes. “I know what I’m doing.”

“They’ll find you.”

“I’ve—” she announced proudly.

“If they found you here, they’ll find you in Jerusalem.” He crossed his arms tightly against his chest. “I don’t think you should go there.”

“Why not? It’s safe, plus…”

His eyebrows shot skyward. “Plus, what?”

“N-n-nothing.” Caught! She looked away, unwilling to meet his gaze, as she stuck her hands in her shorts’ pockets.

He took a step closer and lowered his voice, “Tilly, what’s going on?

“I think Jerusalem is a safer place for me.”

“I don’t. You should leave Israel. Now.”

“And go where?” Their gazes met.

“London.”

Her mouth became parched before she held her hands up as if warding him off. “Are you insane?” Her high pitched voice bounced off the brick walls of the corridor. “I left there and never want to go back.”

Keeping his voice low, he simply replied. “But I’ll be there to protect you.”

“I never asked you to protect me. Help, yes. Protect, no. I think you’re enjoying this hero role a little too much.” She winced at the shrill tone of her voice and stumbled backwards. Using the wall to gain support she glared at him.

“Think about it. I have a large, secure apartment. You don’t have to run. It’s safe.” He stopped. “You can stay with me for the time being.”

“I barely know you. Why on earth would I stay with you?” She gulped in some air.

“Because we’re engaged.”

“
What?
” A volcanic explosion of annoyance, frustration and resentment erupted.

“I just announced it to the reporters to get rid of them.”

His casual laid-back reply flamed the furnace burning inside of her. The insolence of him.

Oblivious to the deep scowl across her forehead and her hands balled into fists, he continued. “As my fiancé you can dispute the claims.”

“I already disputed them,” she spat out, before standing straighter.

“This time we’ll be denying it
together
.” He stood tall and proud, all he needed was a spear and a sword and he would fit right in with the image of the zealots who defended Masada.

“I’m not marrying you,” she said with a toss of her hair.

He chuckled. “Once everything is sorted out, we’ll break the so-called engagement and go our separate ways.”

He had an answer for everything. Had he thought this through? “You make it sound easy, it won’t work.” She poked her tongue at him, refusing to consider the so-called brilliantness of his plan.

He opened his mouth but she waved her hand in front of his face. “Forget it! I don’t want to hear any more.”

Spinning around she stalked to her room.

The indignity of it.

How dare he?!

Running her life. Announcing an engagement. Not even checking with her first.

Grabbing her e-reader from next to the unmade bed she hunted around for any forgotten items, talking to herself. “I came here to get away from my family and what does Nate do? Exactly what my brothers do. Bossing me around. Tilly do this, Tilly do that.”

Shoving the last personal things into her carry-on, she yanked it closed. The tag broke off in her hand. Looking at her fingers holding the piece of plastic, she scowled.

Tossing it in the bin, she lowered the bag onto the floor and jerked the handle up. It remained stuck. She grabbed it again. It still did not move. She grunted while pressing the release button and the handgrip sprung lose.

Breaking the zip, forgetting to press the catch on her bag. Nate was driving her to distraction. He was the stuff of her girlhood dreams, of her romance novels. The knight who saved the princess. But she was not a princess and their engagement was certainly not real. Goosebumps zipped up and down her arms and she rubbed them away. Being engaged to Nate, being in close proximity with him had her hormones performing a dance to klezmer music.

With a bod to die-for and a knack for getting her out of sticky situations, Tilly knew the attraction was more than just looks. His take-charge attitude attracted her in a way that surprised her. Unlike her stupid ex, who had seduced
her
friend, Nate’s actions were well-meaning towards her. Travis had never stood up for her and had never been so chivalrous. What had she seen in that loser? Had she been so desperate to find a guy? Or had it been loneliness that had driven her to him? Pushing aside thoughts of Travis, she thought about the issue at hand.

She was dangerously close to liking Nate a lot. On her own, hunted by the press, he was the lifeline she desperately needed. How often had she forgotten her predicament when around him? Too many times, unfortunately.

She sighed. The unanswered questions and thoughts whirled around in her brain, like clothes in the tumble-dryer.

“You can’t go to Jerusalem.”

Spinning around she came face-to-face with said distraction.

She licked her dried lips. “I thought you’d gone.”

Part of her expected he would leave after her cranky throw-back lines. Part of her hoped he had not.

Her heart lifted knowing he was still here. Here for
her
?

“No. I’m taking you back to London.” He paused before leaning against the wall, his arms casually crossed over his chest. “Our engagement will be of public interest.”

Her heart missed a beat. Despite his relaxed stance, the skin around his mouth appeared tight and his forehead was creased. She massaged her forehead, hoping the headache would ease. Why would the press be more interested in him than her?
Who was he? Royalty?

Her eyes blinked. “Why?”

“I’m known in London,” he replied nonchalantly.

“You’re famous for writing vampire books?” She exclaimed in mock horror.

Shaking his head. “Nothing like that.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I wrote a book and it did quite well. To publicise it, I did a lot of promotions.” He paused, “This happened very recently.”

“So, how well known are you? Like, JK Rowling famous?”

“No, not at all. My blog gets attention but I’m definitely not as famous as her.”

A worry niggled deep in her chest. Without family or friends, she had gravitated to the one person who was there for her. Time to make a decision. She dismissed the niggle. “I’ll check out your blog later.”

His face whitened and he stood, ram-rod straight.

She cleared her throat. “Is there a problem?”

“Not at all. But I think we should leave now and get you into the safety of my apartment.”

“Do you live in an equivalent of the Tower of London?”

He laughed but unlike last night, it came across as forced and stilted. “I’ve had some threatening emails and recently moved somewhere more secure.”

Her heart jack-knifed. “What emails? Were the police involved?”

“It was unpleasant. The move was a precaution.”

She heard herself gasp. “It must have been serious enough that you had to live somewhere else.”

He nodded. “I don’t like bullies especially those who use social media to say hateful things. But to appease the police and my sister, I now live in a secure apartment.” He paused. “You even have to pass security to drive or walk onto the complex,” he chuckled.

“Wow, that’s impressive. Are you a lesser-known royal?”

He shook his head.

Taking a steadying breath she said, “listen, I don’t think I should stay with you. I don’t know you.” She paused. “What would you think of Bea staying with someone she didn’t know in Australia?”

His eyebrow lifted. “If my sister was in trouble and I wasn’t there, I’d be grateful to the person that helped her out. Wouldn’t your parents want that?”

“You had to play the family card, didn’t you?” She needed to distract herself from him because she was scared to like him even more than she did. “You could be an axe murderer.”

“Tilly, I don’t own an axe.” He chuckled. “I’ll get Bea to accompany us – to be our chaperon.”

The person who had outed her at the restaurant?
No way
. “No.” Her lips pressed together. “I don’t hang out at strangers’ apartments.”

His finger lifted her chin and her jaw slackened as her lips opened slightly. Her heart started to thump away in anticipation of a kiss. “I like my coffee black. My apartment is neat and so is my office. I like opera and classical music, the only exception being the Sex Pistols. When I was little, I wanted to be a fireman. Bea is my world and I would do anything for her. And finally, I want to help you.” He stopped and his eyebrow lifted. “So now as I’m no longer a stranger, may I protect you from the press at my very secure apartment?”

Words clogged in her throat. She liked him even more now. What was there not to like? She could even see herself going to London just to be with him, not that that was going to happen. She would never, ever go to London. Not even if Sebastian Porter asked nicely. There were not enough jewels in the Tower of London to persuade her. Well perhaps, if the Queen personally offered her, she would. But since that would never happen, she was staying put.

She hid her hand behind her back, crossing her fingers. “Okay, I’ll go to London with you, but can you first take me back to Jerusalem? I need to retrieve some things of mine.”

“Your safety is more important than clothes. You can buy new ones in London.” He paused. “I’m going to organise for us to fly out tonight.”

She stamped her foot down. “I’m going to Jerusalem!”

“You were nearly accosted by four blokes, you think more of them aren’t on their way?” He fired a look at her, with a look of pure frustration crossing his face.

She ignored it. “I’ve left my smartphone—”

“You didn’t bring it with you?” He gave her a disbelieving look as though she had announced she was having lunch with the reporters who had been bothering her.

“Listen you.” Her finger pointed to his chest. “I came here to relax. I’m not interested in being online 24/7. You probably can’t tear yourself away from the internet, but I can. There is nothing that can’t wait for a couple of days and besides, I’m sick of seeing pictures of myself online. It was quite refreshing to have some time out, to read and enjoy the beauty of the desert.” She took a deep breath. “I’m going to Jerusalem, with or without you.”

“No,” he said firmly.

“I’m going to fix up my bill.” She twisted the door knob and it opened easily. The wheels of her bag whirled noisily as she made her way along the tiled corridor to reception.

She did not have to turn around to know Nate was right behind. His padded steps barely sounded, but her neck prickled in recognition of his undeterred presence.

Within minutes, her account was settled and she walked out of the office coming face-to-face with the stuff women’s fantasies were made of.

She looked at him, her hands on her hips. “Jerusalem.”

He shook his head. “London.”