MARRYING THE ROCKSTAR (#3 ROCKSTAR SERIES)

♪ two ♪ 🔥

When we got home from the Eiffel Tower, we made love. Not a passion-driven fuck before we made it to the bed, but a full-on romantic wooing with candles and champagne to celebrate our engagement. It was smooth, hot, and sticky, and I loved every second of it.

But the next day, when I didn't put my ring on after my shower, Leo gave me a poignant look. "Why aren't you wearing it?" He gestured at my bare finger, cocking his head.

We were headed to the Louvre, where I knew paparazzi would be waiting for us, because of course they were following us all over the place. Somehow, they hadn't seen us the night before, so there were no reports of us reserving the Eiffel Tower all to ourselves.

I wanted to keep it that way.

"Because the world can't know yet," I said, rubbing his arm after sliding my coat on. It was a soft blush, wooly and warm; the weather outside was gray and rainy, which was a perfect day for art admiring inside the Louvre. I'd always wanted to go, and was so happy Leo had planned it for me.

His eyebrows furrowed. "Why not? Don't we want everyone to know?" He peered at the bathroom, beyond its half-opened door. I'd left the ring on the counter, in its original velvet box, which I aimed to use for transportation.

"Leo," I said softly, taking his hand before I slid on my gloves. "We talked about this."

We had talked about it last night, between sips of champagne and heavenly thrusts of his cock inside me. I lost count how many times we had sex, and how many glasses of booze he had; I'd only had a glass or two. But he kept on drinking until the bottle was empty, and we were both spent.

"But I want to tell the world," he said, sulking as he opened the door for me, allowing us out into the corridor. I braced for the onrush of cameras, but thankfully, the hotel security team didn't allow any paparazzi into the hotel proper; they had to wait outside for us. "I want everyone to know I'm engaged to the most wonderful woman. Sexy, talented, mine."

"I know," I squeezed his hand as we walked towards the elevator, "but this is for the best. You'll get to tell everyone soon enough, I just think...we should wait until we get home, at least. I'd rather we tell Petra together, so she doesn't explode finding out in the press. And my friends..." I gulped. "It'd be better if I told them in person before they read it in the tabloids, yeah?"

He nodded, though I saw the dejection still rampant on his face. He perked up once we reached the ground floor, putting on a smile for the hotel staff, and then waving at the slew of cameramen outside. But once in the car, he slumped in his seat.

Acting like a spoiled brat was only another figment of Leo's personality, I'd learned. Some nights he was a mature, elegant man who rented out monuments to propose to his girlfriend. And some days he comported himself like a child who'd been deprived of his favorite dessert and toy.

I'd said yes. I'd agreed to this, to get accustomed to his behavior, to love him despite it, because of it.

And I would, but I wished he'd stop acting like a kid whenever the cameras weren't flashing in our faces.

"You know I'm right," I said, patting his hand as the car took off down the busy avenue, passing hordes of fans who'd gathered on the sidewalks to watch us leave. They weren't allowed in the hotel's courtyard, but that didn't stop them from lining up in the hopes of getting a peek of Leo. Some even wanted a peek of me.

Because I was famous now, too. By association, but also because I was building my own brand as a fashion reporter. Thanks to Leo, yes; but also thanks to my own talent.

And thanks to Sapphire. And—

I winced as the car took an abrupt turn to avoid traffic. Leo's drivers always knew their way around, whether we were in New York or in Paris. I appreciated their skill, but Parisian driving was intense.