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“I’m not saying you do, or that you should going forward,” I said expecting what he’d been about to say, “but on this occasion, I’d like this girl to experience watching your band without feeling she needs to degrade herself in order for that to happen.”
“Hello, can we not talk about me like I’m not in the room?” Lottie asked, an indignant look on her face as she tugged at her top and shuffled her feet.
When I turned my attention to her, she looked embarrassed, which felt oddly out of keeping with the girl I’d seen before who had stood full of bravado in front of me naked. A look that bordered on distress came over her face and somehow, I immediately got it. She didn’t care who I was, but the man now with me was one of her idols. Jamie flashed me a dark look, held my pleading gaze and eventually nodded.
“Well, if she says—” he began in answer to my private plea, “… but if you dare pull any tricks at the gig, I’ll make sure you never see us in concert again. I mean it Lottie, I’ll take a restraining order in every country ahead of a tour if I have to.”
“Promise,” she replied, looking thoroughly scolded, but this quickly changed to a restrained look of excitement.
“Give me your room and phone number—,” I began asking for details of how to get in touch.
“No.” Jamie’s immediate and firm order startled me. He sighed, his gaze toward me softening in apology for snapping at me.
Turning to Lottie, he ran his hand through his hair. “Surname?” he barked.
“Bramwell,” myself and Lottie said together. Jamie gave me a double-take look before he turned his attention to the girl again.
“Fine, I’ll contact my management. We’ll leave a pass for you with the concierge by tomorrow morning, but it’s for after the gig. You’re not allowed to piss me off before I perform.”
“Promise?” she asked, her worried eyes darted from his face to mine.
“I said, so didn’t I?” he stated, slipping his hand into mine. “Now, I’m sure I’ll see you tomorrow. Meanwhile, my girl and I have reservations for dinner. Enjoy your evening,” he told Lottie curtly before leading me away from the table.
“Thank you,” I said as he pushed through the door, nodded at the security guy and muttered. “This woman is with me. Were you the guy who removed her from our suite?”
“I apologize, monsieur, but we ‘ave had many crazy women in ze hotel since yesterday. I felt the safest way to deal with zeez women was to take them to ‘ave coffee until we could confirm their identities.”
“I know you were just doing your job, but this is my girlfriend, you never lay hands on anything that’s mine again, understand?”
“Absolutely,” he agreed far too readily.
“Then we understand one another,” Jamie confirmed.
“And zis one?” he nudged his chin in the lounge's direction where Lottie was still sitting.
“She’s a hotel guest, she has a room here, just not the one she was in,” I explained.
“You want official course of action? Le Police?”
“That won’t be necessary. Like us, she’s a guest here, so she should be able to move around freely now. We’ve settled our differences and I don’t think she’ll be any more trouble,” I interjected again, taking control of the conversation.
“Come on, I’m starving,” Jamie said, sounding fed up with the interruption to our time together as he gripped my hand tighter.
We began walking in silence, and when I saw his jaw ticking, I knew he was silently seething inside. At first, I thought it was a caveman move, like he didn’t like another man’s hands on me, but when he muttered, “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” my heart raced.
My eyes followed his gaze, and my chest tightened immediately. I’d barely registered the sight ahead of me before Jamie quickened his pace and dragged me toward his nephew Ryan and my youngest sister, Belle. They stood holding hands at the main desk in reception.
Chapter 9
“Jesus Christ are you going to cut us a break today?” he rasped, looking up at the ceiling before he began striding toward our relatives. Tension instantly rolled off him and he cricked his neck from side to side as he tugged me along and I realized what he had seen. I glared daggers at my baby sister when our eyes met in the hotel foyer by the front desk. I didn’t know his nephew Ryan was with him, let alone what the hell Belle was doing in Paris.
“Are you testing my patience, buddy?” Jamie asked Ryan, who looked innocently toward his uncle, with a look of confusion on his face.
“Nope, minding my business in Paris, just like you told me to,” he replied, giving Jamie a perfectly relaxed smile.
“And this is your interpretation of that? She’s your business?” he asked, gesturing toward my sister, who stood with a smile on her face, clearly enjoying the altercation. Jamie dropped my hand, hooked his index finger into his nephew’s jacket pocket and led him away from us for a quiet word, out of the range of our hearing.
“Belle.” My one scolding word conveyed my displeasure at seeing her stood in front of me. “Does Ma and Da know you’re here?”
