Whisky was great for courage. Or a great tool to help cowards gather theirs. Being in the casino made obtaining the alcohol a lot easier than it would have been with a standalone vendor.
My notebooks were stacked neatly on the table. Taylor had even included the original draft of Dorian Gray. I had every note I’d written all within arm’s reach yet other than what I had glanced through with Taylor present I couldn’t bring myself to open any of them.
I stared at what remained of the amber liquid in my glass and contemplated having another. This was the second glass, but they were short glasses and without ice. The decision was taken out of my hands when the dressing room door opened and the band filed in.
They stopped and shifted awkwardly when they saw me drinking alone. And to be fair a woman drinking alone was never a sign of anything good. Nicholas looked curious but didn’t step forward to interrupt.
I glanced up from the glass, “Taylor. Could you keep an eye on the crew? I need a moment with the guys.”
Taylor tilted his head and his eyes focused on my glass. “What’s in there?”
“Whisky.” I lifted a brow. “Care to see my ID, big brother?”
“Hardly. I’m just wondering if I’ll need to hire a babysitter for later. Whisky isn’t a light weight drink.” Taylor locked eyes with Nicholas and without a word something was transmitted. “I’ll go handle the crew.”
“Thank you. Could you ask Henry to make sure we’re uninterrupted for about thirty minutes?”
“Of course.” The door closed quietly behind him.
“What’s this about, Songbird?” Nicholas moved to stand directly in front of me.
“I should probably start with an apology.” I set the glass aside. Drinking more wasn’t a good idea now. The queasy feeling already held more power than it should. “I’ve been lying to you. Well, with the help of Ezra but I asked him to.”
Nicholas folded his arms. “What are you talking about?”
I took a deep, calming breath. “My real name is Belladonna Bianca Percival Gracing.”
Guy snapped his fingers. “Sin of Pride.”
Nicholas looked at him blankly. “What?”
“She’s got some skills.” Guy pointed at me. “She wrote that musical we saw on Broadway. Christ.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Almost seven years ago.”
“How do you even remember that?” Arc tapped a finger against his lips for a moment. “I can’t even remember what city we were in last night.”
“San Diego.” Max tapped the back of Arc’s head.
I took several breaths to release the tightening in my chest. “I wrote that production, yes.”
“I still don’t get why this is important now.” Nicholas crouched down to look me in the eyes.
“On closing night of one of my productions two madmen attacked as we were leaving the theater. My husband,” I swallowed, “Tyler was killed; I was badly injured and hospitalized. One of the madmen was caught is currently on death row. The other is still at large. They tore my life apart because I refused to be blackmailed.”
The guys shifted and sat. Except for Nicholas. I lifted my gaze to his.
“I’m telling you this because I’ve kept an extremely low profile until recently.”
“Hiding from the madman?” Arc dropped down into a chair.
I nodded. “If I write the music Nicholas has asked me to, and once the LA pictures are printed—along with probably a few others—my cover is probably going to be blown. Not right away but it’s unlikely I’ll be able to stay anonymous after this tour.”
“You’re giving us an out.” Nicholas’s voice cracked like a whip in the silence that followed my confession. “The chance to fire you before things get sticky.”
I nodded again. “It’s only fair you know what’s going to happen.”
“How do you know?” Guy leaned against the back of Arc’s chair.
I sighed and unbuttoned my blouse enough to draw out my little Beretta. I set it on the coffee table.
Arc visibly recoiled. “She’s packing heat.”
Max, bless him, smacked him on the back of the head.
I continued as if they hadn’t interrupted. “When the men attacked, I drew and fired. Because a bullet lodged in his shoulder my attacker was picked up in a hospital five hours away. The other got away.” I gave Arc a stern look. “I have two conceal and carry licenses that give me permission to carry in forty five of the fifty states. It’s completely safe me to have my guns.”
“You have more than one?” he sounded like a little girl. I doubted he’d like the comparison.
“You think you’re going to be attacked for revenge?” Max picked up the gun studied it and handed it back. “Nice little thing.”
“I know we’re going to be attacked.” I put the gun away.
“Well.” Guy stretched. “Ultimately, this is Nick’s decision. This is his show.”
“Bella makes sense now.” Arc snapped his fingers. “Short for Belladonna.”
“It’s an Italian term of endearment you uneducated swine.” Max glared down at him. “Did you learn nothing when we went to Italy?”
“They really like arches and that Jesus guy is kind of a big deal?”
“Archibald.” My tone was firm and held the echoes of mothers past.
“The mom voice.” Arc shuddered. “She used the mom voice on me.”
Max growled and hit Arc hard enough to knock him out of the chair. “Could you fucking grow up for ten minutes?”
“The mom voice.” Arc repeated and curled up on the floor in the fetal position. “I may never recover.”
Nicholas ignored their antics. “Guys, I’d like a moment with Bianca.”
Without further comment Max reached down and yanked Arc to his feet. Together they left us in solitude. Nicholas waited for Guy to close the door then walked over to it. A few seconds later he kicked the door and startled yelps could be heard. With a disgusted sound he locked the door and came back over. I frowned and picked up my whisky.
He sat on the coffee table then as if just realizing they were there picked up one of my notebooks. He flipped through it, stopped, muttered too low for me to hear, and then continued flipping. When he stopped again he hummed some of the bars and grinned.
“These are really good.” He set the book back down.
I lifted a shoulder. “They’re almost six years old.”
“You were ahead of your time.” He nipped the whisky glass from my hand and sipped. With a grimace he set it out of reach. “It’s warm.”
“But excellent quality.” I reached for the bottle and he pushed that out of reach as well.
“Arc was just kidding around by the way. Max carries too. Thanks to the assaults on my record, I’m not allowed to own a gun.”
“You’re awfully calm about this.”
Nicholas shifted forward planting his knees on other side of me. “What should I be?”
I had to shrug again. “A little pissed I lied to you?”
Nicholas shifted some more so that he was completely straddling me instead of sitting on the coffee table. “Funny. I’m not angry. You had to protect yourself. And Bianca is still your name. Where does Sheridan come from?”
“My great grandmother. Nicholas.” My voice held warning when he pressed his torso against mine pinning me to the sofa.
“Door’s locked.” His gaze dropping to my mouth. “And I haven’t kissed you in a few hours.”
“Less than two hours.”
“I’m not firing you, in case you’re wondering.” He rubbed his mouth against mine but didn’t kiss me.
“You’re not?” My breath caught when he nibbled on my bottom lip.
“No.” And then he stopped teasing.
Every kiss with Nicholas was a new experience. Each one was different but at the same time one thing tied them all together. Desire. Nicholas’s desire bordered on the requirement to breath.
Someone knocked. “Food’s here.” Guy called th
rough the door. “Henry’s got keys, Nick. So does Taylor.”
“Fuck.” Nicholas nibbled my mouth. “You’re staying in my bed tonight.”
“We’re on the bus tonight.”
“So what?”
“Decorum?”
“With the door completely closed, it’s sound proof. And I have my own bathroom back there. No chance of the guys catching you changing and being rendered blind. If they saw any naked part of you I would burn out their eyes.” Nicholas rubbed his entire body against me hard. “You know you want to.”
“I can sleep in my bunk.” My weak voice shook a little and I didn’t mention my legs were often naked. In his current mood he may demand I wear pants all the time instead of my skirts.
He laughed and kissed me firmly again. “No. You can’t. Not up for discussion.” He got up when keys rattled in the door. “Christ, I’m coming.”
“Nicholas?”
He stopped and turned to look at me with a raised brow.
“If, and I do mean if, I share with you, will you wear your hat?”
“My hat?” His brows drew together.
“Yes. Only your hat.”
His grin spread so quick and bright it was like watching a lightning strike. “Sure. My hat.”
The door knob rattled and Nicholas shifted back to the panel to kick it. “I said I was coming.”
I took the brief reprieve to gather my brain back together and shove my notebooks away. All of this could wait until later. Right now it was time to eat and then there was a concert to perform.
A siege was underway. Maybe it was just a little dramatic for me to describe it in that manner, but still appropriate. Oh, and he knew it.
I finagled my way out of his bed after the concert by the grace of luck. He’d been too tired to do more than wash and collapse. Since he started snoring within minutes, I didn’t need to come up with an excuse that would likely be pitiful and transparent.
In Salt Lake City, I did the same thing, though every opportunity he got I was pressed against one surface or another. Really, his actions were no more complicated than a horny teenager—pin and kiss me stupid—but his skill level was another matter entirely.
The battlements were failing and though I tried with all my wit to outmaneuver him so I could think, he didn’t allow it. He warned I couldn’t outrun him and standing my ground was working even less. We both knew it was only a matter of time before my resolve crumpled completely.
After two days, Taylor and the Five proved to be an exceptional addition to the team. No complaints were reported from the remaining crew; in fact when I asked I received an eye roll and a “duh” statement from some of the roadies. Apparently, Jimmy hadn’t been well received.
With the successful shows, and no temperament from Nicholas during interviews I should have consider myself blessed. Things were—mostly—going well. Tomorrow was a true off day as today was spent in transit.
We were on the way to Denver and had finally reached the Rockies. There were twice as many stops on the east side of the Mississippi, and we hadn’t even gotten there yet. Finally reaching the mountains still felt like an achievement.
The video sent by Taylor and his proposal played unseen—again—when goose bumps went up my back. I could feel his eyes on me. If I looked up he’d send me a slow grin and his eyes would heat. So I didn’t look up. Instead I refocused on the video Taylor emailed over.
Roadster was a few miles in front of us and we stopped at the same time but Taylor apparently couldn’t wait until the next break to hand me his new production proposal. There was nothing sane about changing a stage show in the middle of a tour but I was willing to humor him.
Nicholas pulled the earbuds I had connected to the laptop out of me ears and sat entirely too close for casual. “What are you doing?”
“Taylor is proposing some changes to the production. I’m reviewing the model animation the Five created to determine if that’s what’s best for the show.” I shifted slightly, not away, as there wasn’t any room for that, but subtly enough my meaning should have been clear. Hands off.
Nicholas ignored my silent warning and wrapped an arm over my shoulders peering down at the monitor. His fingers absently played with the locks of hair falling over my shoulder and tickling his arm. “A little late in the game to be making changes, isn’t it?”
“Yes, and no. Technically, when Jimmy quit, we should have met Taylor and the crew early to go over staging, etcetera, before the sound check in Vegas. Taylor, however, is good at his job, and the show details I sent him was enough to get him up and running.”
“Hmm.” Nicholas’s brows drew together as he watched the image I hadn’t paused. “There aren’t any laser lights on the panels, I thought.”
I shrugged. “Taylor has some things configured in. I haven’t read the written proposal yet.”
“Why do you call them the Five or the Furious Five? There aren’t five of them.”
“There used to be.” I frowned. “Taylor, Tyler, Juliette, Henley, and Fitz.”
He squeezed lightly. “Sorry. I don’t remember seeing Henley or Fitz.”
“You may not. Henley is extremely quiet and only speaks when he feels it’s important. Fitz is a perfectionist that will run minor tweaks all the way up to and during show time if it’ll improve performance. He’s often running around so pinning him down for an intro is a little tricky.”
“Huh. Maybe next show we could at least get the rest of the intros.” He pulled gently on the hair he was playing with before running his fingers through the tangles he created.
“The five of them could run any show. And if we count me in Tyler’s place there are still five.” I swatted at his hand and he ignored me.
Nicholas pulled out the headphones so he could hear what was going on instead of just watching it. He tapped the mouse pad and started the video over. “I don’t mind changes for the better. The shows have been running smoothly. Even I can see that.”
“If it’s sound, we may have to set up ass crack early and run down the show changes live before sound check.”
He sighed. “Well, ass crack early isn’t a stranger. As long as I have coffee.”
I wasn’t sure if I was annoyed that he didn’t try to kiss me or not. With the guys sitting nearby playing cards I would have protested for form. But he didn’t try.
When he realized Taylor was a lot more advanced than Jimmy had ever been, Nicholas commandeered my laptop and started firing off demands through the messenger. I didn’t think they’d ever be friends—I had too much history with Taylor for Nicholas to be comfortable with that—but maybe Nicholas would at least respect Taylor in a professional manner. Taylor was replying just as fast as Nicholas was sending out and I let them go.
Giving in just a little to fatigue, I leaned some into Nicholas and closed my eyes. Just for a moment, I told myself. Just a little while.
The bus was no longer moving. The constant sway and noise wasn’t the first thing I noticed. The fact I was lying in a bed instead of sitting in the lounge space was.
I shot upright and glanced around. I was alone in Nicholas’s bedroom and no longer fully dressed.
A glance at the clock brought a wince to my face. We should have been in Denver for two hours now. I leapt out of bed and frantically searched for my skirt and blouse. At least he’d had the decency to leave me in my chemise and underwear.
When I stepped out in the public space fully dressed Nicholas looked up from what looked like one of my notebooks. The guitar was in his lap and his hands still strummed absently.
“You look better. You’re not sleeping enough.”
I walked over and snatched the notebook. Closing the cover, I slapped him over the head with it. “You didn’t ask permission.”
His scowl transformed into an innocent smile. “Didn’t I?”
This wasn’t a battle I was going to win with him smiling at me like that. I checked for the rest of the band. “Where are the guys?”
> “Inside. Taylor has the vendor’s permission to set up today. So they’re putting everything together. After lunch we’re going to run through the changes and tomorrow morning before sound check too. After the conference interview for me.”
“Today is supposed to be an off day.” I reached for his coffee and sniffed it before drinking.
“True.” Nicholas set the guitar aside and stood. Suddenly wary of the gleam in his eye I dropped the mug back to the table and took several steps back. “You’ve done your very best to keep us from being completely alone the last couple of days.”
I retreated from his advance before I realized my mistake. The way out was behind Nicholas. Not behind me.
“Nicholas, I’ve told you.” My protest turned into a squeak when he darted forward and grabbed me around the waist.
His eyes were laughing as he brought our mouths together. At the first touch, the laughter was over. He was a little rough, hungry and not altogether gentle. Impatience strained the edges of his desire and reflected in his mouth and roaming hands.
A choked gasp caught in my throat when he tugged my head back by my loose hair and ran his impatient, hard mouth over the column of exposed skin. My hands fisted in his shirt, originally to push him away, but now I needed the anchor.
“Nicholas.” Was that breathy sound me?
“I’m tired of waiting.” He pressed open-mouthed kisses against my collarbone. And then to my utter shock he put both his hands on my ass and lifted me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
“What the fuck.” My foot was fast, but he anticipated my protest and pinned my legs down. “Walker, put me down.”
I didn’t have a belt handy, so I fisted my hands instead and beat them against his ass. “Put me down.”
The world spun as I bounced on the bed I had crawled out of only moments ago. Before I could scramble out again, Nicholas dropped on top of me. His hands and mouth were everywhere at once.
“You brute.” The words snapped out in a poor attempt to hide how he affected me. I shoved, and wriggled and ultimately failed to move him any.
“You like it.” Nicholas nipped lightly at my jaw and his hands slid under fabric to caress and tease. They didn’t falter over the corset concealing my guns, instead just continued steadily upwards.
Songbird Page 17