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“Gentlemen,” he said, sounding amused in a warm tone. “How are you doing this evening? Isn’t it a little cold to be hanging around out here?”
“Who’s the lucky girl on your arm?” one of them called out from behind his lens.
“Ah, you don’t help me do my job, so I won’t help you do yours.” Jamie chuckled.
“Is this a new relationship? How long have you two been seeing one another? Where did you meet her? Why do I feel this is serious?” called out another.
Jamie stopped in his tracks and leveled a stare at the guy who had called out the last question.
“Was it you who asked me that?”
The tallest of the reporters lowered his camera to his chest. “Yeah, it was me. Something tells me you’re not hiding this one,” he replied, decisively.
“How very astute of you,” Jamie replied conspiratorially with a wink. His tone sounded amused as we arrived beside the car door. “After you,” he said, gesturing me to climb in the limousine.
I slid along the seat, placing myself on the far side while Jamie climbed in and sat beside me. “There, that wasn’t a bad initiation into my world, we’re lucky its freezing tonight, only the diehards were out.”
“That was nerve-wracking,” I admitted.
“You handled it beautifully. Let me do all the talking when they follow or they’ll put words in your mouth and before you know it, they’ve unearthed a whole heap of shite from school friends and ex boyfriends about you.”
“Not much to tell in my case,” I said, chuckling while wracking my brain for any possible dirt they may uncover.
“Are you concerned?” Jamie asked as concern filled his eyes.
“Just wondering if I actually have any dirt,” I said, pouting. “I was a straight-A student, sang in the school choir and had two boyfriends from the age of fourteen until now,” I sighed, “They’re going to paint me as the corrupted virgin, aren’t they?” I asked, scowling when Jamie smiled.
“Two boyfriends? A girl that looks the way you do and you’re telling me you’ve only had two men before me?”
“We’re not all easy below the waist,” I complained. “And two including you.”
“That makes that ex of yours even more of a dick for the way he treated you,” he said, frowning and slipping his hand into mine. Splaying our fingers, he laced them together and held them to his chest with a gentle smile. “He didn’t deserve you, luckily for me.”
He looked thoughtful when he turned his head and stared out the window at the snow-covered streets, and I felt my heart swell at his declaration. A couple of minutes later he turned, unlaced our fingers, and swept my hair behind my ears.
“I promise never to hurt you like he did, Daisy,” he stated, flatly.
Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to mine. It wasn’t a passionate kiss, more of a heart felt seal to his promise. My chest tightened and tears squeezed my throat tight with the love I felt flow from his lips to mine. Pulling back like there was nothing else to say, he took my hand in his and placed it on his lap.
“So far, I’ve been a shit boyfriend today. I’ve starved you, left you on your own, tested your fear of heights and subjected you to a crazy fan, yet you’re still here,” he remarked, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe it.
I chuckled at the way he could bring light to our world in a heartbeat after such an intimate display of affection. “I am and yeah, all of that, but you’ve got some assets that are worth hanging around for.”
He laughed, “And those are?”
“A big dick you know how to use and a winning smile.”
Jamie threw his head back and laughed, drawing the attention of the curious Parisian driver in his rear view mirror. I felt my cheeks redden when I wondered if he’d heard what I’d said.
“If you say so,” he said, humor making his blue eyes shine.
“Looks like we’re here,” Jamie said, pointing at the elegant and famous romantic restaurant Lapérouse, its name emblazoned in gold leaf lettering on the window.
After helping me out of the car, Felix appeared from nowhere and walked ahead of us, leading us inside, and my greedy eyes went wide. Plush red velvet, gold leaf covered moldings and elegant French red and gold tapestry made a heady feast as I stood in awe taking in my extravagant surroundings. I’d been in some beautiful restaurants, but nothing had ever compared to the elegance of the restaurant Jamie had chosen for dinner.
“It’s got three Michelin stars, Paddy recommended it. He brought Bernie here when he proposed,” Jamie stated. This information made me reevaluate Jamie’s coarse drink loving bandmate Paddy, he too was obviously deeper and more romantic than his public image portrayed.
“Lapérouse means funhouse or house of fun,” Jamie informed me with some authority. I smirked because someone had obviously told him. “There’s a private entrance where important men used to gain discreet access to the upstairs rooms, to… let off steam,” he said with a wink.
