“Because,” he says, his gaze lifting to mine, “I kissed you and now I can’t stop tasting you on my tongue.” Suddenly, his fingers are tangling into my hair and our lips are a breath from touching. “And I want more. So damn much more.” And then he’s kissing me, his tongue pressing past my teeth, caressing deep, a sensual stroke I feel in every part of me. I’m melting into the hard lines of his body.
I can taste his hunger, his need, that darkness beneath his surface I have sensed, and it draws me to him, it burns me alive. Maybe it’s the good girl in me, captive to a life not of my choosing, but that edge in him pulls me under, drugs me. I’m all in for these moments with this man, and I forget all the reserve I’ve lived with my entire life. I’m nothing but this moment, nothing but pure submission, pure need for this man. Pure need for escape.
Abruptly the door to our right, opens and a man clears his throat. Kace tears his mouth from mine but he doesn’t immediately look at our visitor. His eyes are locked on me. “That, Aria, is why we’re here.” Only with that declaration does he look to our visitor, as do I.
Chris Merit stands there, his blond hair rumpled, his T-shirt a splattering of intentional paint, and my God, I’ve been caught making out with a world-famous musician by a world-famous artist.
I don’t know how Chris knew where to find us or how he timed it just when he did, but he did. And here we are.
“Evening, Aria,” Chris greets, and thankfully he doesn’t wait for my reply because I’m fairly certain I have no use of my vocal cords right now.
He glances at Kace. “They’re ready for us, man,” and with that, he disappears.
“Oh my God, I’m embarrassed,” I murmur.
“It’s Chris. You won’t meet a more private person or one you can trust more than him. He won’t say anything. I promise.” He stokes my lip, his lips quirking at the edges. “But your lipstick all over the place might.” He rubs a couple of spots and says, “All clear. And you still have on lipstick.”
“And you don’t somehow.”
He catches my hand. “We have to get in there, but if I win the violin, if your client matches the bid, I’ll let him have it. I have a collection of violins, including several Stradivariuses. I don’t need to have this one, too.”
I blanch at the idea of his collection, but also his generosity. “You barely know me,” I say. “Why would you do that?”
His fingers brush my jaw. “I want to know you, Aria. That’s what I’m telling you.” He kisses my hand again and when he would lead me to the door, I tug him back. “Wait. Wait, it’s important.”
If he feels the pressure of those waiting on him, he doesn’t show it. He’s cool. He’s easy. He’s right here, giving me his attention. “What is it?”
“I’m not bidding. Don’t bid.” And then, pressed by time, I dump it all on him. “The violin isn’t real, Kace. Mark won’t listen to me because I’m not credentialed, but I swear to you it’s not authentic. It’s a good fake, worth millions, but not the millions it’s going to go for. I’d never steer you wrong. I’m protecting you.”
He cups the side of my face and leans in, his lips pressing to mine, his tongue doing a fast, sensual slide before he says, “I believe you, baby. I won’t bid.”
The endearment does funny things to my stomach as he adds, “Don’t leave without me tonight.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Kace leads me into a room where rows of chairs await hundreds of guests while the stage to our left awaits Kace and Chris. Actually, Chris is already on the stage, kneeling at the edge, talking with Sara, who stands just beneath him. A few other men in black jeans and matching black T-shirts are also present with Chris, fiddling about with the performance set behind him. Kace slides an arm around me, possessiveness to his touch that sends a shiver down my spine. His mood though is light, as he points to one of the men on stage: a tall, good looking man with blond hair and about the same age as Kace. “That’s Micky,” Kace informs me. “He’s my guitarist. He travels with me and has for five years. Micky, this is Aria.”
Micki gives me a mock salute, a bright blue tattoo of a guitar on his forearm. “Hey Aria,” he says. “Welcome.”
Kace points at a tall muscular black man with a buzz cut. “That’s Marvin Gay. My producer.”
I blink up at him and then at Marvin. “Marvin Gay?”
“My parents loved them some Marvin,” Marvin says, holding his hands out to his sides. “And so here I am. Making music with Kace.”
He’s friendly and easy to instantly like. I laugh and Kace points out one more person. A tall dark-haired man—and I mean tall, like six feet four—with curly dark hair who I age in his mid-forties, based on the salt and pepper of his goatee. “That’s my manager, Sam,” Kace adds, “otherwise known as Bear and not because he’s tall. He’s a real cranky ass.”
“Don’t believe him,” Bear says. “I’m a honey bear. Sweet as can be. His bastard agent, Nix, is the one to watch out for.”
“He kind of is,” Kace whispers conspiratorially, “but he’s not here.” He motions to Sara to join us, which prompts Chris to cup her head, the bright colors of what I now know is a dragon tattoo, or rather full sleeve, on display, as he kisses her and then murmurs something to her. I watch them, the way they lean into each other, and there’s a raw sensuality about them, but also a deep bond beyond that sensuality that I can’t seem to help but envy.
“Sara will take good care of you when I’m on stage,” Kace informs me, and then leans in, nuzzling my neck. “I promise to take good care of you when I’m off.”
My cheeks burn, and based on his laugh, all low and sexy, he doesn’t miss the redness. “You are such a contradiction, baby.”
I have no idea what this means, except for the fact that I made out with him in the hallway and then blushed at his suggestive words. “I like it,” he adds, the playfulness of the moments before shifting to something far more intense, something I can’t quite name, but there is a crackling current between us that literally steals my breath. I want this man and he is so beyond dangerous, but I just can’t seem to care. I wonder if that’s how Gio feels about Sofia. I wonder if that led him down a path of temptation and destruction. Will it do the same to me? Will Kace?
The spell between us is broken as Sara appears before us in a stunning silver knee-length dress, greeting us with a bright smile. “Ready for this, Kace?” she asks.
“Always,” he assures her, and then glances down at me, his hand warm on my lower back, his gaze sweeping my mouth and lifting. “See you soon,” he says softly, and somehow he manages to turn those simple words into a seduction.
He releases me, heading to the stage, and I’m far too cold without that man’s hands on my body for my own good.
“We’re in the front,” Sara announces, motioning me toward the chairs.
I follow her lead and we settle into our spots at the end of the aisle. Kace has now started to play a few random notes, testing his tuning. The sound of his violin vibrates through me, nestling deep in my soul and threatening to stir a million memories.
“I’m really excited about this,” Sara says. “Chris and Kace have been talking about performing together since they were both at the same charity event a year and a half ago.”
“They’ve known each other for a long time, right?”
“Forever, even before I met Chris, but that event was really where they became friends, not acquaintances. And now they have three events and back-to-back shows together. Are you going with us to Austin and California?”
He’s leaving again. That’s what I take from her question and it’s my reality check on what to expect in the future. Kace leaves. That’s what Kace does. “No,” I say. “We’re just getting to know each other.”
“And yet here you are.”
My brows furrow. “What does that mean?”
“He doesn’t bring women to his shows. He doesn’t let anyone inside his personal life, not eve
n his crew.”
“Why me?” I ask, speaking what is on my mind without meaning to.
“You’ll have to ask Kace that question, but as Chris always says to me, because you’re you. I know what it’s like to be with a man who seems bigger than life, but underneath the fame, he’s a man. Just a man. One not likely to trust easily and that comes from life lessons. Don’t forget that.”
No one understands life lessons more than me, but as for me being me—I’m not me. I’m a lie, which only makes her words about trust more powerful. “Thank you,” I say and I turn my gaze to Kace as he plays a small bit off Prince’s Purple Rain and then stops, talking to Marvin and Chris.
“Doors opening in three minutes!” someone shouts out, and then to my shock, the blonde from the photo I’d seen of Kace in Germany is on the stage, offering everyone water and doing so in a pink dress with lots of cleavage. Tension radiates through me and when she stops in front of Kace and rubs his arm, my fingers curl into my palms. She’s touching him again.
She steps to the left and I end up in Kace’s direct view. He’s staring at me, those blue eyes piercing me even from a distance, the push and pull between us potent. His eyes narrow and I see the question and answer in his face. He knows I’m uncomfortable with that exchange. Damn it, he knows, and I’m conflicted about how I feel about that. I have no rights to this man. I know this. We barely know each other, but I have no interest in groupie status.
Kace cuts his stare, catching the woman’s arm. He whispers something to her and there is a knot in my chest that I don’t have the capacity to handle. I move, intending to stand up, but Sara catches my arm. “That’s Kelly, but everyone calls her Kiki. She’s the operations manager for his tours. Kace is all business with his crew. She’s just a toucher.”
“Seems like he was touching her, too.”
“No. He was just trying to get her attention.” She motions to the stage. “And that’s why.”
I jerk my gaze in the direction she’s indicated and the toucher hops off the stage and heads right for me.
I turn to Sara. “Sara—”
“I promise you. There is nothing between her and Kace. I promise you.”
I have no idea why her promise helps the way it helps, but it eases the pressure in my chest. Right then, Kiki kneels in front of me and I rotate to stare down at her. She’s even prettier up close, her skin porcelain, her eyes a paler blue than Kace’s, but oh so pretty. She grabs my hand. “I’m Kiki, Aria. So nice to meet you.” I don’t even try to reply and she quickly adds, “Please know there is nothing between me and Kace. He’s like a big brother. Forgive me, and him, if I gave you another idea.”
“One minute until doors open!” someone shouts.
“I have to go,” she says urgently. “I hope we can talk later.” She stands up and walks away.
Kace is on the edge of the stage now, and he motions between him and me and then silently mouths, “Stay.” I can’t explain how or why, but that tiny action, paired with him sending Kiki to talk to me, is an act of vulnerability I get the feeling he doesn’t dare with many. This talented, amazing man is really afraid I might leave while he performs. And once again, doubt fades into the room and evaporates. “Yes,” I silently mouth in reply.
He studies me a moment, searching my face, and I don’t know what he’s looking for, but Chris pats his arm to gain his attention and motions to the stairs. Just that quickly, Kace is turning away, and I can see the stiffening of his spine, the shift to the performer, to a persona.
Sara glances behind her. “They’re piling in. It’s time. I’m nervous and I don’t know why. Chris could paint hanging upside down.”
“Because you love him,” I say. “And he loves you.”
Her expression softens. “Yes. Yes, I do and he does.”
There’s no hesitation in her, no question of their love.
I twist around to watch the crowd pile in and there is no way I’ll find Gio, let alone Sofia, unless they bid on the violin. Even then, I’m not sure we’d find each other. Maybe if I bid to draw attention to myself. On the very violin, which I told Kace not to bid on. He’ll end up thinking that I set him up. The man let me into his world, and it’s clear that it isn’t common. I can’t, I won’t let him think that was a bad decision. I’d have to talk to him first and what would I even tell him, that wasn’t too much?
I lean over to Sara and lower my voice. “My brother might be here tonight. Any ideas on how I’d find out?”
“The auction house knows who shows up, but you’ll need Crystal or Mark to find out for you.”
“Right. Of course. I’ll text Crystal. Thank you.” I pull my phone from my purse and key up my messages with Crystal to type: My brother Gio Alard might be here. I can’t find him in the crowd. He wasn’t sure he’d make it back into town. I stop typing. I’d know if my brother was on the VIP list. I would have told Crystal he was already on the list. She’d know the last name from my last name. Crystal already said she doesn’t know Sofia. Gio isn’t here. He’s not going to be here. He was never going to be here. I suddenly need to breathe before I make a fool of myself and start crying.
I lean over to whisper to Sara. “Ladies’ room. If Kace comes out, please don’t let him think I left.”
She points to the door I came in with Kace. “Go that way. He’s there.”
“I don’t want to intrude.”
“You won’t be intruding. There’s a small bathroom to the right when you exit into the hallway.”
Accepting that my escape to compose myself is now waylaid, I simply say, “Thank you,” standing up and hurrying in the direction she’s given me.
Marvin waves at me from the stage, not the least concerned about me heading into private crew territory. I’m not sure what to make of that, but I open the door to the hallway and step inside. Kace and Chris are standing there, both leaning a shoulder on the wall and it’s like being pierced with a beam of testosterone and hotness, the two of them almost too much in one place. They both straighten. Chris immediately nods at Kace and turns and walks right.
Kace is already stepping toward me and catching my hand, aligning our bodies and every part of me is tingling. “Hey,” he says softly, stroking my cheek.
“Hey,” I whisper. “I was just going to the bathroom.”
“Kiki’s a friend. She’s not with me. She’s never been with me.”
My hand flattens on his chest. “You don’t have to tell me this. We’re just—”
He cups my face and tilts my gaze to his. “We’re just what?”
“I don’t know, Kace.”
He stares down at me, eternal seconds passing in which I can’t read his chiseled expression, until he says, “Neither do I, baby, but I never will if I don’t make sure you know that Kiki is not with me.” His hands find their way under my hair, to my neck. “You have my full attention, like it or not.”
“Like it or not?”
“I’m many things you might not like, Aria, but I own those things.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“I know.” He leans in and kisses me. “Go to the bathroom. I want you in there when I take the stage.”
My hand is still on the hard wall of his chest, the thundering of his heart that tells me he’s affected by what he’s spoken. Words that suddenly read like a confession that I don’t understand. I’m affected by him. He consumes me, so easily he consumes me, and though I know deep down that he is too close to all that I have run from, I can’t seem to run from him. Instead, I find myself wanting to know more, to understand him.
He turns me to face the direction Chris walked, leaning in to whisper, “Hurry back.”
I hesitate and then turn to face him. “I’m not leaving,” I say and I said the words because I meant them and because for indiscernible reasons I feel that he needs to hear them.
A flicker of something in the depths of his stare is there and gone before he cups m
y head, kisses me, and then turns me around again. “Good. Now hurry, baby.”
I don’t know how the word “baby” spoken by this man weakens my knees quite so completely, but coming from Kace August, it melts me right here in this hallway.
Still, somehow, I start walking, the weight of his stare hot and heavy, but the bathroom is close. I slip inside the single-occupant space and lock the door. I lean against it and stare into the mirror directly across from me. What is happening to me?
My cellphone rings and thinking it might be Crystal, I quickly snag it from my purse to find an unknown number. It could be a client. It could be Crystal calling from a phone inside the auction house. It could be Gio. My hand trembles as I punch the button. “Hello?”
There’s crackling in the background and I’m almost certain that I hear a female voice. I push off the door and desperation and gut instinct overtakes me. “Sofia?” I say because it just feels right.
Suddenly the line is silent, even the crackling fading. And then it goes dead.
CHAPTER TWENTY
I’m haunted by that call for no good reason.
It was a butt dial, I tell myself. Someone called me by accident.
Wasn’t it? Didn’t they?
A full minute of me staring at my screen passes and I force myself to slide my phone back into my purse, to move on. I hurry to the sink, where I re-apply my missing lipstick. Missing because Kace kissed me. Because he keeps kissing me. And I keep letting him kiss me. I keep kissing him. And liking it. I really like it and him. So much, but I’m not overthinking this—whatever this is—going on between us. Okay, I will overthink every moment with this man, because that’s what I do, just not now. I’ll wait until later tonight when I’m home alone in my own bed.
Right now, Kace is waiting for me and hundreds of people are waiting for him.
I finger comb my hair, and then I rush to the door, but I pause with a jolt of my mind that shoots me right back to that call. If it was truly a butt dial, why did my gut tell me it was Sofia? And it did. There’s a knock on the door, and I chide myself for holding up Kace when the show must go on.
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