Текст книги "Rock Me Two Times"

Автор книги: Dawn Ryder

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

Chapter 6

“You rock, Kate.”

Taz was excited. His speech took on a slight Asian accent as he turned and looked at himself in the full-length, three-sided mirror she had set up in her makeshift shop.

“I love it.”

He did. Kate watched the way he stroked the lapels of the Loki jacket. She’d even made the under jerkin and pants for him.

“You got all the details.”

“You guys aren’t putting up with me for my good looks. My partner deserves some credit. He got all the leather and trim. Percy is a detail queen.” Kate gave credit where credit was due.

Taz shot her a grin. “You’re pretty cute, for not being Asian.”

“Thanks.”

“Got to go show Drake,” Taz said. “He’s a comic book hound too. He’ll be smoked that he didn’t think to ask you for something. Should warn you, he likes to be a pirate.”

“I’m here if he wants something.”

Taz took off, his pace brisk.

Kate took a moment to look at her design book. The Loki jacket was there, drawn out with notes. She’d changed it just a little and then knocked out some limited-edition jackets to be sold at designer cost. The contracted rights would be put to good use. Drake liked to be a pirate? She smiled as she started to sketch out a jacket.

But her neck was killing her. Stiff from too many hours bent over her machines and cutting table. She rolled her shoulders as she stood up and tried to work some of the stiffness loose.

Kate closed up her design book and went back to sorting through the hides, to decide what project to start next. The costume rack was filling up. She enjoyed looking at the growing number of pants on it. Now that the immediate concern was covered, she could turn to doing detail work. She toyed with slashing, making up samples to show to the band members for consideration. The day wore on, the hotel becoming quiet as everyone made their way over to the arena where the concert was going to be held. She checked the time, making sure she wasn’t running late.

“We need to talk.”

Kate looked up, the note in Cid’s voice warning her that the road manager was in the mood for a fight. One look at his face, and she was certain of it. He wasn’t afraid to assert his authority.

Piss on his turf, you mean.

But that didn’t necessarily make him a turd. Life was a competitive sport. Everyone had to scratch out their spot and defend it.

She laid down her scissors. “Yes?”

“Are the terms of your contract unclear?” he began.

Kate didn’t even blink. “Not a bit.”

Cid made a wide gesture with his hands. “Oh, I think there is a huge discrepancy. You don’t seem to understand what you’re here to do.”

She pointed toward the rolling rack of finished pants. It was sectioned off by performer, and she’d even added one of the vests Ramsey was so fond of.

“If there is a problem with my production rate—”

“There’s a problem with the fact that you’re in here making costumes when I’ve hired you to make stage clothing,” Cid fired out. “Taz doesn’t need to be wasting his time playing adolescent dress up. We don’t have room on this tour for someone who doesn’t have their attention focused on what brings in the money.”

“Oh, I’m focused.”

Cid was every inch the asshole she’d decided he was. The need to pound her down was glittering in his eyes.

But she wasn’t going to take it.

“If you want an accounting of my time, I’ll give it to you. Including overtime, which”—she lifted her hand when he tried to interrupt—“is clearly outlined by the terms of my contract. I have produced more than sufficient product, and what I do in my off time is a private matter between me and my client.”

“You work for me,” Cid insisted.

“During the allotted hours only. Because travel time is part of my hours,” she said. “I’ll get you that time sheet.”

She picked up her shears and looked back at her cutting table. It was a bold move, but slightly more professional than telling the jerk off. He stood there a moment.

“Better be in my inbox by the end of the day.” Cid stormed out of the suite.

Asshole…

She’d never met a more fitting subject for the word. What worried her was how crafty the road manager was. He’d planned his little shakedown for when Syon and the rest of the band were doing sound checks. There was also the fact that not a single member of his entourage was in attendance. Which was a real rarity. Cid liked to have someone ready to fetch his cappuccino; that was for sure.

No witnesses.

His word against hers.

Something tingled on her nape, a feeling of foreboding that she had trouble shaking free.

Well, she wasn’t going to worry about it.

Nope.

After all, she was a warrior princess.

* * *

“Kate, my dear.”

Kate was suddenly wide-awake. Percy only called her “my dear” when he was going to unleash a life lesson on her.

“What’s wrong, Percy?” More importantly, what details did Percy know?

“There is rather more of you on the pages of Roadkill’s newest issue than I’ve ever seen,” her partner delivered in a dry tone.

“Roadkill?” she asked, trying to place the name. A memory stirred. “I am going to kill Cid!”

Syon lifted his head and sat up, giving her a hard look. She spun around and stood up as Ramsey appeared in the doorway.

“I’m going to pull his balls off,” she said into the phone but directing it toward Syon.

Percy attempted a mediation. “Now, Kate, do I have to remind you of how many cameras are on you when you travel with Toxsin?”

“I was in a closed room. With a locked door.”

“Oh.” Percy made a low sound on the other end of the line. “In that case, his nuts have it coming.”

Syon suddenly plucked the cell phone from her hand. “Percy, Kate will get back to you.”

He hung up as Kate turned on him. “You don’t end my calls.”

“When you’re contemplating castrating my road manager, I do.”

Syon tossed her dress at her, and she realized she’d been standing there in nothing. She was too mad to care. “That film crew has plastered nude pictures of me in their monthly issue.”

Understanding flashed through Syon’s eyes.

“Wait, how’d they get a shot of your tits?” Ramsey asked.

Syon’s lips twitched, a smug look entering his eyes. Kate’s temper sizzled.

“We were in a closed room. The door was locked,” she hissed. “The terms of the contract concerning the use of my image sure as hell don’t extend through locked doors!”

Syon nodded. “I know. I’ll talk to Cid about it.”

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me.” Kate propped her hands on her hips. “I can tell Cid he’s an asshole all by myself.”

Ramsey snorted. “I believe her.”

“I told you, Kate, privacy—”

“Yeah, is a casualty, but I was doing a fitting on you.”

“What?” Ramsey looked up from a cell phone he’d pulled out of his pocket. He pointed at the screen. “This look was missing from my fitting.”

Ramsey turned the phone toward her, giving her a view of her bare torso, a saucy smile, and her own hands on her breasts.

“That’s because she’s my girlfriend,” Syon said.

Kate snorted.

Syon swung his attention back to her, and his gaze had gone hard. “Take a hike, Rams.”

“Later.” Ramsey was gone, leaving her with Syon.

She was halfway into the dress, but Syon plucked it from her hands and pulled it off.

“My girlfriend,” he repeated.

She stepped back, the warning in his tone chafing her. “I’m a little preoccupied with the issue on the table.”

“I’ll deal with Cid.”

She moved around the bed and grabbed another dress that had landed on the floor sometime the night before. “I dealt with him before, and I’ll—”

“Over what?” Syon asked pointedly.

Kate managed to get the dress on, but she didn’t feel very secure.

Ha! Try hanging over an abyss…

Yeah, that was about the way she felt, but she wasn’t going to admit it. Syon was distracting her as it was, slowly stalking her across the suite.

“Over what, Kate?”

He wasn’t going to drop it, but the topic was at least a diversion from the idea of having to define their relationship status.

“I made something for Taz,” she informed him.

“The Loki suit?”

She nodded. “Cid got in my face about it. Accused me of not being focused and understanding the terms of my contract, and helping Taz ignore his responsibilities.”

Syon nodded. “And you did…what?”

She sent him a satisfied grin. “I quoted my contract and sent him a time sheet. I made the Loki suit on my own time. I like Taz.”

“But you didn’t tell me that Cid got in your face.”

“That would have been unprofessional,” she answered.

His lips rose into a menacing smile. “Because I’m your boyfriend.”

She drew in a stiff breath, but a second later he had her crowded against the wall. He wasn’t actually touching her but had his forearms braced on either side of her shoulders.

She shuddered anyway.

The scent of him filled her senses. He still smelled sexy. It was more potent than anything she’d ever experienced. The last month of excess should have worn the edge down, but the need swirling in her belly was still razor sharp.

He tilted his head, and his breath hit her ear. He captured her wrists and pulled her arms above her head, holding them there as he licked her earlobe.

“Boyfriend…”

His voice was raspy but full of demand. She shivered, excitement pulsing through her just about as fast as her uncertainty was growing. She was folding, losing all sense of boundaries, just letting him wipe them away.

“I’m not sure I can…”

He pulled his head back, locking stares with her. “Does it look like this is any easier for me?”

She searched his eyes, feeling exposed but needing to know if he felt the same.

“You scare me. The way you just sweep aside everything else.” She wasn’t sure why the words slipped out.

“I know the feeling.”

He bit out the words and pressed his mouth down on top of hers to take shelter in passion. She kissed him back, relieved to have something familiar to focus on.

But it was hollow.

The kiss died. Syon pulled away and pressed his forehead to hers. That hollowness wouldn’t dissipate. It felt like it was sitting inside her chest, carving out a hole—settling in for the long haul.

“Boyfriend,” she said.

He stiffened, the grip on her wrist tightening. She leaned forward and kissed his jaw. “Boyfriend,” she repeated softly. “My boyfriend.”

“Why was that hard?” he asked.

He suddenly turned his back on her, leaving her leaning against the wall.

“Because everyone wants you.” She felt like every fear she’d had about getting kicked to the curb was about to hit her. “How could I hold your attention for long?”

Her self-confidence was nothing but a puddle on the floor. It stung, and she stayed against the wall because she honestly wasn’t sure if her knees would hold.

He turned around, letting her see the torment in his eyes. It knocked the breath out of her.

“They want the Marquis,” he bit out. “That thing Cid gives them. It isn’t me.”

“Part of it is.”

He shook his head, but she pushed away from the wall, suddenly feeling her confidence swell.

“Yes, it is. You have an allure that you aren’t afraid to let people see. Cid is riding on your coattails because it’s so powerful. I felt it the second I saw you. It was like a punch to the gut.” She suddenly stopped, face-to-face with her own insecurities. “I’m not that brave. I can’t let people see that part of me. You do. That’s why they scream. You make it okay. It’s that permission that they crave.”

“It’s a hunger,” he said.

He took a step toward her, making her mouth go dry. “Yeah, it is,” she said.

“A selfish one,” he continued. “I need to be on that stage. The animal inside me needs to be out, to be seen.”

She nodded. He reached for her, pulling her against him.

“And I need you to be here.”

He pushed his hand through her hair, gripping it and holding her head still as he hovered over her lips. “Tell me you’ll be here, for me.”

She pushed her hand beneath his shirt, their skin connecting with that powerful jolt that thrilled her.

“I will.”

His lips twitched just a tiny amount before they thinned with hunger. Sensation went speeding through her, shaking her down to her core. He caught the fabric of her dress and pulled it up and over her head. She made a soft sound of encouragement, her skin heating up.

She reached out, finding the buttons on his fly and forcing her fingers to work them loose. His cock sprang through, hard and ready the moment she finished. She stroked it, purring at the satin-smooth skin.

“I can’t wait,” Syon confessed.

He reached down and caught the backs of her thighs, picking her up and spreading her legs as he moved her back to the wall. He pushed her against it, his cock tunneling into her flesh, slipping deep because she was so wet.

“Mine,” he grunted, pulling back and straining back toward her. “Mine… Mine… Mine!”

He punctuated every word with a hard thrust. Driving deep, touching that spot inside her that sent a current of pure rapture through her. It forced the breath from her, leaving her moaning.

“Yeah, baby… Let me hear you…”

There wasn’t any real choice. But she didn’t really want one. All she craved was the next connection between their flesh. She was suspended between time, falling through a crack in reality. There was only the two of them and the way they were satisfied only by each other. She was his; he was her addiction.

She craved him.

Would have done anything to keep him feeding her needs.

She dug her fingernails into his shoulders, trying to lift her hips toward him. He flattened her back against the wall, growling at her while he pumped against her, forcing her to let him set the pace.

“Mine.”

It was more than a word.

It was an entire idea.

Her entire reality at that moment.

It shattered in a mind-numbing jolt of light, searing as it burned through her. She was caught in its grip, wrung by the power of it until she ended up as nothing but a pulsing lump clinging to Syon as he ground himself into her and let his passion explode. She purred as he emptied himself into her, the hot spurt of his seed intensifying the intimacy of the moment—binding them together with trust.

Everything was base, primal, and savage.

And the animal inside her wanted that last confirmation that she’d satisfied him.

Someone laid their fist on the suite door.

“We need to roll!”

Syon lifted his head and let her legs slide down. He cupped her chin and kissed her, a soft compression of his lips against hers that made her tremble with how tender it was.

* * *

“You don’t need to turn in a time sheet again.”

Kate looked up, catching a look from Syon as he took a final glance in the mirror. Everyone was amped up again, the arena full as Toxsin prepared to take the stage.

“You didn’t need to get involved.”

Syon turned away from the mirror, looking every inch the rock god he was: his makeup perfect, his skin hot and smelling like leather and man animal. The heavy eyeliner accentuated the slant of his eyes, making him once again into the Goblin King.

“You didn’t ask me to get involved. But I needed to make sure things were clear. You’re an artist.”

He’d stopped in front of her. It might look like he was talking to her, but she knew him better than that. He was making a point of bringing up the subject during an official moment. The makeup girls were listening, along with at least eight of Cid’s crew. Two private security men were there, pigtailed ear devices on as they watched everything from behind dark glasses. A sound guy was trolling around, checking the small personal sound systems attached to each of the band members. Two of Cid’s girls were there as well, but the road manager was outside the performers’ room, chatting up some VIPs.

Syon leaned down and kissed her. It was soft and quick, but it felt like a brand.

“Time to get down into the seats.” Cid had walked into the doorway, his standard, happy-go-lucky grin in place.

“Sure.” Kate walked toward the door.

“Got to take that.” Cid reached for the glass in her hand. “Stadium rules. No booze in the stands.”

Kate tossed back the last bit and relinquished the glass. One of the polo-shirted guys guided her through the backstage maze. Thick power cords ran along the floor. There were barricades set up to form walkways from the back of the stage to the performers’ room. The lights were already flashing, a preshow soundtrack playing over the speaker system.

The crowd was already filling the stadium with a dull roar, like distant thunder. It was only going to grow in intensity until Syon whipped them up into a storm of spine-tingling climaxes.

She was pumped up for it, edging her way into the crowd forcefully when people didn’t want to let her get to the seat reserved for her. The security guy made them move aside. He reached out and snagged the “reserved” sign off the seat and made sure she’d slid into it before the crowd converged. Surrounding the catwalk and stage was the mosh pit. People had arrived hours earlier to fill it, and they were pressing up against the stage without mercy for anyone in their way. They were there to be in the crush; no one was interested in maintaining distance.

The crowd surged toward the stage as the performers entered. She felt it as much as saw it—a wave that seemed to lift the crowd off its feet and send it crashing into the music. Kate was carried along with it, giddy to be a part of the exuberance.

The concert went on and carried her deeper and deeper into the current. She lost track of what was happening, Syon the only fixed point in her world. Everything else blurred, until it was just a backsplash of colored smears that spun in a crazy circle. People pushed against her, dancing, well, maybe it was dancing. Maybe it was more of a primal straining.

Rubbing.

Groping.

She stopped, trying to push someone’s hand off her butt. But concentration was impossible. In fact, holding her head up felt like too much effort. Her neck had lost all its strength; her eyelids felt heavy.

There were just hands everywhere. She felt them but didn’t really understand what was happening. She was leaning on the catwalk but moved her hands to push the groping hands off her. When she did, she slid down, falling beneath the weight of the next wave of people surging toward the stage. They flooded in, filling the spot she’d occupied, stepping on her as Syon and Ramsey whipped them into the last frenzy of the show.

Pain tried to make it through the haze clouding her thoughts, but at least the haze was thick enough to block most of it. It bore her into a tunnel of darkness that made the impact of feet insignificant.

Yeah…everything was insignificant.

* * *

“Can you tell me your name?”

Kate rolled away from the light being aimed into her eye.

“Do you know what’s happening?”

Whoever it was, they lifted her eyelid and aimed the light right back in her eye. It felt like a needle being shoved down the center of her pupil. She tried to roll the other way, pulling her legs up to fend off the spinning.

“It’s Kate Napier.”

She turned over, lifting her eyelids a tiny bit. There was something about the sound of that voice that she knew, but the world beyond her eyelids was a swirling mess. She sank back down into the abyss of unconsciousness.

Syon fought to get close to Kate, but the medics were pushing him back. Cops were holding people back, the blue-and-red flash of their emergency vehicles casting an eerie glow over the scene. Ramsey was suddenly there, the only person who could pull him back.

“She needs a hospital.”

* * *

“I’m going to fucking kill someone.”

The security guard near the emergency-room door sent him a warning glance that Syon ignored.

“Let’s watch what you say, mate. No need to say things you don’t mean.”

Cid tried to hook his arm, but Syon turned on him, curling his hand in Cid’s shirt front. “Why the fuck wasn’t someone watching her?”

He couldn’t get to Kate’s side, but he could sure as hell deal with his own people.

Cid covered his hand, smiling as the guard eyed them. He waited until the security guard looked away before answering. “Didn’t know she needed babysitting.”

Ramsey pulled him away, which likely saved Cid from getting his nose broken. Syon let Ramsey pull him across the waiting area before he shrugged free.

Beyond the doors behind the security guard, Kate was being treated. The local PD was struggling to keep the fans outside the emergency room as Syon and his bandmates paced the floor.

Two men finally came through the doors, heading toward him. “Syon Braden?”

“Yeah, I want to see her.”

“This way.”

“Just a minute.” Cid slid in between them. “Where are you taking my friends?”

“Somewhere we can talk.” One of the men held up a badge.

“Fine by me.” Syon pushed past Cid, but Cid shoved him back.

“I think you can do that only with a lawyer present.”

The detective turned and looked at Cid. “Since you’ve got something to hide, by all means, call your legal representative.”

“What the hell?” Syon demanded. “I want to see my girlfriend.”

“Your girlfriend—if she is your girlfriend—has tested positive for gamma hydroxybutyrate,” the cop said under his breath. “Now, maybe slipping girls roofies is normal in your world, but in my county, I won’t let it slide. She could have been trampled to death beneath that crowd.”

“Shit,” Ramsey cussed.

The cop raked them with a cold stare. “She’s under my protection, and I promise you, I’m going to do my best to get her to finger which one of you slipped her the spiked drink. So I can arrest you, celebrity or not.”

“You’re way off the mark,” Syon warned.

“I don’t think so,” the cop answered. He dug a business card out of his shirt pocket and tossed it toward Cid. “Call your lawyer. I think he’s going to be needed.”

“Fuck this.” Syon started toward the emergency-room doors, Ramsey on his heels.

“Yeah.” Taz joined in.

A second later, they were all slammed against the wall, the herd of uniformed officers outside the doors swarming in to take them down. Cid was in the corner, frantically making a call on his cell phone as they were handcuffed and hauled into squad cars.

* * *

“It’s been a long time since we’ve been arrested,” Drake observed. “Sucks that we’re not even drunk or in a titty bar.”

Syon lifted his hand and flipped him off. Ramsey mimicked the motion from where he sat on the other side of him. They were lined up in front of a pathetic television with the rest of the Saturday night jailbirds. Behind them, the booking officers were receiving the night’s offerings of prostitutes, drug dealers, and public intoxication offenders. Those who were orderly ended up in the chairs to await bail, while the rest were hauled down the hallway and locked into cells to sober up or calm down.

Syon nearly ripped the sleeves from his jail-issued top, he gripped it so hard. Waiting for bail sucked and was driving him insane.

“Cid’s falling down on the job. My little sister could have had us out of here by now,” Taz complained. “My grandmother could have done it too, and she doesn’t even speak very good English.”

“They’re stalling,” Ramsey stated, “waiting for Kate to sober up enough to finger someone.”

“Can’t wait for her to do it,” Syon said ominously.

Ramsey shared a look with him. They both returned their attention to the television in front of them, because the deputy assigned to watch the orderly crowd was doing his job. The choice was simple. Sit and watch television, or get locked into a cell with an added charge of resisting.

It left Syon sitting, which was a torment he was unprepared for. Kate was lying in a hospital, and he was stuck in a plastic chair.

Yeah, he was going to kill someone.

* * *

“Ms. Napier, I need you to help me protect other innocent women from becoming the victims of this sort of crime.”

Kate drew in a deep breath. Her head was splitting, the light from the ceiling feeling like a laser beam carving up her brain.

“Who gave you the drink?”

“Deputy Jenson?” Forcing her brain to function took a lot. The cop nodded, doing his best to give her a winning grin.

Not a chance, mister. She could see the calculating look in his brown eyes. “I had one drink. Backstage.”

“Who gave it to you?” he pressed.

The curtain suddenly moved aside. “You don’t have to answer that question.”

A man in a sharp black suit walked up to the foot of her bed and extended a business card to the deputy. “I’m here to represent Ms. Napier and ensure she has proper time to recover before making any statements. The attending doctor assures me she is in no condition to be questioned at this time, and any information you have obtained will be considered tainted by her condition.”

The deputy slowly stood up. He took the card, his actions stiff. “Tell your clients I’m going to do everything in my power to lock them up. Maybe I can’t keep their kind out of my county, but when they bring date rape drugs with them, I’m going to see them charged.”

“Syon is my boyfriend. He doesn’t have to drug me,” Kate protested.

“Ms. Napier has nothing further to say at this time.”

The newly arrived lawyer managed to get Deputy Jenson out of the room.

“Thanks. Where’s Syon?”

“Being released from jail.”

Kate blinked as that sank in.

“I’m Carl Pearson.”

She lifted her hand to shake his but stopped when she spotted all the bruises on her hand. Two of her fingers were swollen black and blue, but at least they weren’t broken.

“Maybe we shouldn’t shake hands today,” Carl said.

“Yeah. Can I get out of here?”

What she wanted was Syon. It was pathetic how much she wanted him near. She had no sense of time, and there wasn’t a window in sight. A low rumble of hushed voices came from outside her room.

“I’m working on getting you discharged. The doctor was considering having you admitted for observation, but he seems satisfied with your CAT scan and the promise you’ll seek medical attention if you have any vertigo or nausea.”

“Guess that explains the headache.”

Carl pulled his phone out of his pocket without a care for the “no cell phones” sign posted on the wall. He started texting someone as she took a moment to look at her hands and arms.

She was covered in bruises. Little ones from spike heels and larger ones that must have come from the guys in the audience. It was all still a haze, but considering how her arms looked, she decided she didn’t need to remember being trampled.

“Kate, sweetie—”

Her eyes had started closing again when she heard Percy. Or at least thought she did. It was a nice dream.

“Holy Moses!”

Kate opened her eyes, recognizing Percy’s brand of profanity.

Percy stood in the doorway, his eyes widening to the size of half dollars. “Oh my God! Someone needs to die.”

“What are you doing here, Percy?” she asked.

Percy came in with his husband, Steve, on his heels. “I got on the first plane I could, of course. That hospital gown is criminal.”

“You didn’t need to do that,” Kate protested, but Steve was carrying a duffel bag that he unzipped, pulling out a familiar-looking tunic. “I take it back. I really need people who understand me right now.”

What you need is Syon…

She tried to ignore her pitiful thoughts and focused on getting dressed because it took her one step closer to escaping the hospital.

Her knees shook when she stood up, and her back ached, but she took a couple of steps and then a few more, until she’d escaped the room. Percy and Steve were right outside the door.

“I really need to get out of here.”

She wasn’t going to mince words about it. She was desperate. The hospital was pressing in on her.

Percy and Steve took over, bundling her into a car and filling a huge bag of prescriptions before Steve slid behind the wheel of the rental car, but he didn’t start the engine.

“Now, Kate honey…”

She looked at Percy, recognizing his serious tone.

“We can go anywhere you want,” Percy said gently. “Home?”

“I’ve got a contract to fulfill.”

Percy made a little sound under his breath. “Cid spent a great deal of time making sure I recognized how much he understood your need to go home and recover.”

“Cid is an asshole.”

Steve flipped her a thumbs-up in agreement.

“He’s also trying to shove me off his turf.”

“While I agree with you,” Percy said, “I do have to admit that you look a little rough around the edges. I’d be completely insensitive if I didn’t offer to take you home.”

“You’d also call me a wimp, and I am not a wimp.”

Percy smiled at her. “Well…not out loud. At least not for a week or two.”

Steve drove her back toward the hotel they’d been staying at. The two Toxsin coaches were pulled up along the side of the curb, a steady line of polo-shirted team members bringing luggage out and storing it in the compartments underneath.

Cid made a beeline for her the moment he realized she was heading toward one of the coaches.

“Kate, I thought your partner and I came to an understanding.”

Steve started to come around the car, but Kate stepped up to deal with Cid. “An understanding would be great. I work here, and so do you. I don’t quit.”

Cid pushed his hands into his suit pockets and grinned at her. “Well…okay then.”

It was easier than she’d thought it would be, and left her feeling guilty for thinking he was such an asshole. The guy was doing his job. He was dedicated; there was no missing that. She needed to see the glass as half full.

“This is very nice,” Percy exclaimed as they made it up into the coach.

“I’d like to party here.” Steve winked at Percy.

Kate sat down on the sofa, her strength suddenly spent.

“Here.” Percy held out a glass of water and several pills. “You get some beauty rest and call me tomorrow.”

Kate handed the glass back when she was done and sent him a grateful look. “Thanks, guys. I’m sorry you came all this way.”

“Don’t be silly,” Percy said. “But I am going to have a little talk with that road manager for not having a release of liability on file for you. Where did he learn his job anyway? At least he flew us out here first-class.”

“He better have.”

She was getting sleepy and laid down on the sofa. There was a soft snap as Percy buckled one of the seat belts around her waist.

Relief went through her.

Okay, it was pitiful but true nonetheless. She was still there, still near Syon. The idea of being separated from the tour loomed over her like a thunderstorm as she drifted off to sleep.

But it wasn’t a deep one.

She needed something.

Someone actually.

She ached for him, yearning for him as she drifted half in and out of sleep.