The Heiress's Pregnancy Surprise (Heirs to an Empire 2)

“Oh, here and there. She’ll see most of the shows today, network... She has her own seating.”

“Not with you?”

Charlotte looked up at him. “No. You get her VIP seat.”

He felt momentarily guilty about it, since clearly this was important to Amelie, too. But then, if Charlotte hadn’t ignored his directions, he might have compromised.

“Lucky me.” He supposed he’d have to sit next to her and look at least a little bit interested. It might be the toughest part of this job.

Charlotte huffed out a sigh. “Are you going to be this annoying all the time?”

“Sorry,” he said brusquely. “My job isn’t to make conversation. I’ll be quiet.”

And then he was, and he suspected that drove her even crazier.

Charlotte stopped several times to say hello, and the few times questioning glances were sent Jacob’s way, she simply introduced him as Jacob, in keeping with the decision to not offer more information than necessary. He dutifully smiled and then kept eyes on the entire room as she circulated, slowly making her way toward their seats, which he realized were right in the front row. The closer they got, the more people he recognized. Like famous actresses and... He blinked and tried not to stare. A former president’s daughter. One he’d actually met a few years earlier while providing security for a UK dignitary at an event. He doubted she’d recognize him. People didn’t tend to, because he was in the background.

Except today. Today he was sitting front and center with Charlotte Pemberton.

She leaned over and whispered, “If you feel conspicuous, you can always trade with Amelie.”

He turned his head and met her eyes, their heads close together. “I’m fine here. Then I know where you are.”

She sat back and pasted on a generic smile that belied her annoyance. “You’re still angry about this morning.”

“No. I’m just doing my job, remember?”

She crossed her legs and his mouth went dry. It was impossible to ignore her long legs. She was so damned classy. The lace skirt came to just below her knee, utterly modest, but fit every curve perfectly. She didn’t wear any jewelry around her neck, nothing to distract from the neckline of her blouse, and that delectable shadow just above the top button. It was sexy as hell and still, with the ruffly thing at her waist and the lace accents on her sleeves, it was elegant and subdued. Was she? So far he’d seen her working, incessantly tapping on her laptop, and always perfectly dressed. For someone he assumed was a party girl, Charlotte Pemberton was actually a bit...uptight.

And stubborn. He’d seen her pile her plate with pastries and she’d eaten them all. Just to spite him. He smiled to himself, remembering.

“What are you smiling at?”

He lifted his head and looked into her eyes. “Just thinking that this is almost as good as a few weeks in Tenerife.”

She opened her mouth to ask him more, but then the show started and conversation came to a halt. Jacob braced himself. All he had to do was sit here and look interested, keep his eye on Charlotte. She was focused intently on the models walking the runway at the moment, and he could see her mind working. Always working.

No, he rather suspected Charlotte wasn’t a spoiled party girl at all. If anything, he thought she might be a bit of a workaholic. And that made them more alike than she knew.

* * *

His impression of her was reinforced several times during the day. There were two hours of shows, then they exited, just the two of them, and went to the car to be transported to a restaurant for the interview. He watched, fa

scinated, as Charlotte pulled out a bag full of cosmetics and a lighted mirror, which she handed to him to hold.

“You’re going to fix your makeup in a moving car,” he said, a bit amazed.

“Lips and eyes only get done while we’re stopped,” she said, and then grinned. “Though I always have a horrible premonition I’m going to do that and then end up looking like Bridget Jones when she goes to the law dinner do.”

“I’m not familiar.”

“No, I suppose not. It’s a movie. Well, based on a book. Anyway, poor Bridget, she’s awkward as ass and a total fish out of water going to her boyfriend’s work thing, and she does her makeup in the taxi and goes in looking red as a fire hydrant.”

All this time Charlotte was blotting her face with some sort of sponge. They stopped at a light and she whipped out her lipstick. A few swipes and her lips were plump and pink again...perfect. His gaze dropped to them and he swallowed tightly. It wouldn’t do to be attracted to her, would it? Total dereliction of his duty... Well, if he acted on it. Which he wouldn’t. Getting involved on a mission could have dire consequences, as he well knew. Even now, the twinge of guilt darted through him, leaving the bitter taste of regret in his mouth.

He had no idea what movie she was talking about, but it clearly amused her, and her eyes twinkled at him over the rim of the mirror, lightening his dark thoughts. “Do I look all right?”

“You’ll do,” he answered, looking away. She wasn’t all right; she was perfect. He was surprised when she laughed.