Chapter 61
Chapter Sixty-One
Jealousy is the best compliment you can receive…relish it.
—From Remy’s Badass Bitch Affirmations
Remy
“Bash! Bash! Over here! Tell us about your date! What are you wearing? Bash! Is this the doctor? Can you confirm the rumors you’re getting married? What does Poet Walsh think of your new relationship?”
The cacophony of screaming fans and reporters shouting questions should have been overwhelming. But, somehow, with Sebastian holding firmly but gently onto her hand, Remy was not only unperturbed, she was relishing the novelty of the scene unfolding around her.
He looked at her, a quick check to see if she was holding up on this first step onto the carpet. She gave a subtle nod and squeezed his hand.
A knockout smile split his face. Sebastian squared his shoulders, tilted his head…and, in an instant, transformed before her very eyes.
One minute, he was dashing Sebastian, taking solicitous care of her on the ride to the premiere and complimenting her like she’d never experienced.
The next? He was Bash Wheatley, mega star.
Magical.
Remy followed along, smiling—praying it didn’t come off as an awkward grimace—and taking her cues from Sebastian. He was at once familiar and a stranger, and Remy had the strangest sense of surreality. How was this her life?
I’m walking a freaking red carpet with Bash Wheatley. Just pretend you’re walking to the OR. Just another walk to surgery. On a red fucking carpet.
Oh…and then there was his teasing, titillating promise of what would happen later.
Desire zapped through her, distracting her enough to cause her to stumble a bit. Sebastian turned to her, a question in his eyes. Not one of discontent, but of concern. Recovering herself, she lifted her chin and smiled, trying mightily to convey confidence.
Sebastian grinned again and tucked her arm into his. Melody led them to the first of a line of reporters.
“Bash!” a devastatingly beautiful blonde reporter breathed, leaning close. Too damn close, if you asked Remy. This was exactly the kind of woman who’d graced his Instagram. Big boobs that were magically still high and perky. Tiny waist. Perfect skin. Perfect hair.
And younger. So much younger.
Remy stepped a bit closer to Sebastian. Marking her man.
Like a wolf with her mate.
She swallowed a smile. Remy had finished the shifter romance on the plane from Virginia. She’d already ordered the second book for her and Sebastian. He’d made her promise to read it aloud with him, acting out the parts.
Her fiancé, always attuned to her, glanced over with a smirk, his eyes dancing.
“Congratulations on Atlas Unhinged,” Perky-Boobed Reporter chirped, reminding Remy of Chicane.
“We hear it’s going to be another box office bonanza for you.
That said, rumor has it you’re about to be signed as the lead for Paradise and you’re walking away from the next installment of the comic book franchise that made you famous. Can you comment on that?”
Sure he can. He has the power of speech, Remy thought unkindly, keeping a neutral mask on her face. She hoped.
“Thank you for your kind words about this movie. We’re all excited about it,” Sebastian replied smoothly. “And it better do well because Clooney and I have a small bet going.”
Perky-Boobed Reporter tittered and tapped his arm. “Oh, you’ll have to tell me all about it later,” she drawled, hitting later too hard.
Don’t roll your eyes. Don’t roll your eyes. And definitely don’t growl.
If the reporter were a wayward hospital staff member, Remy could eviscerate this woman with a glance. But this was Sebastian’s show, and she was determined to do right by him. Once again, she carefully schooled her features.
He continued, “As for upcoming movies, I do have some projects in the works, but I’m not prepared to comment on them at this time.”
“Such a tease,” Perky-Boobed Reporter trilled, stepping even closer.
To his credit, Sebastian took a subtle step back, softly running his free hand over the one Remy was trying valiantly not to grip too tightly onto his arm.
Perky Boobs clocked the movement. Her impossibly big blue eyes traveled quickly over Remy, widening even further when they snagged on Remy’s ring, glinting against the velvet of Bash’s tux, the exterior klieg lights making it sparkle even more brilliantly.
“Is that—?” Perky Boobs suddenly didn’t sound so perky.
“An engagement ring? Yes, Trina, it is. I recently asked Arabella Remington to become my wife. And she’s honored me with the gift of her love...and a yes.”
Perky’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly. Gratified at the reaction, Remy wasn’t above a small, gloating smile.
Which, of course, Sebastian noticed. He winked at her and grinned. “Easy, my queen,” he whispered in her ear. “You look fierce. Like you’re going to shift into your wolf. I personally think it’s hot, but I think Trina just peed herself a little.”
Remy tucked her face into his arm for a moment to hide her giggle. When she pulled herself together, Sebastian aimed a private smile at her, and Remy melted a bit inside. Phew…this version of Sebastian was potent, to say the least.
“You’re engaged. To be married,” Perky Boobs scraped out.
“Yes, that is generally how it works,” Sebastian teased lightly.
“Congratulations,” Trina offered, though it didn’t sound anywhere near sincere to Remy. The reporter narrowed her eyes infinitesimally. “I’m sure I speak for your fans when I say, that was fast.”
Sebastian chuckled. “When you know, you know.” He turned to Remy. “Isn’t that right, my queen?”
His thumb toyed with her ring.
“You swept me off my feet, Sebastian.” Remy was massively relieved her voice was calm and confident, infused with the warmth of someone who is comfortable in the surety of love. “And I’m the luckiest woman ever.”
Sebastian’s eyes softened and she knew he heard the truth of it. For the span of a breath or two, it was just them on the red carpet.
“Well, isn’t that…wonderful.” Perky Boobs interrupted their moment. “When is the big day? I’m sure we all want to know.”
Sebastian’s urbane cool was a marvel. Remy watched him, rapt. She kind of wanted to know the answer too.
“We have something in mind. You’ll know…after.”
We do? We have something in mind?
“Congratulations. Again,” Trina choked out. If the reporter’s brow could’ve moved, Remy was certain she’d be frowning.
Sebastian turned back to her, his polished smile sliding back into place. “Thank you, Trina. I hope you enjoy the film.”
He shifted seamlessly to the next reporter, the same routine unfolding—thankfully without the obnoxious flirting. The breaking news of their surprise engagement swept over the red carpet like wildfire, with Sebastian carefully parrying questions, adroitly answering without answering.
Every now and then, Remy was asked something.
Usually what she was wearing. She’d practiced that response—without the accompanying eye roll she wanted so much to include—in the hotel room with the stylist. Apparently, it was important to get the details right.
But a couple reporters also asked about her job and her volunteerism.
She responded carefully—also having been coached by Melody on tight responses that didn’t say too much, as brevity was key given the phalanx of reporters assembled to get a soundbite from Bash Wheatley—and his significant other, apparently.
By the time they made it into the TCL Chinese Theatre, it felt as if she’d just swam three miles. She was slightly breathless. Exhausted.
And exhilarated.
Remy turned to Sebastian, who shone as bright as the jewels on her body. “You were magnificent,” she whispered, her eyes unexpectedly filling with tears of pride for this incredible man.
Sebastian tugged her close, pressing a tender kiss at the sensitive skin below her jaw. “Thank you, Arabella,” he murmured into her ear.
“For what?” She matched his sotto voice.
“Loving me. Making me feel special out there. Like I’ve never experienced before.”
“Well,” she whispered, tilting her head, “Isn’t that exactly what your fated mate should do?”