Instead of looking up at him, I checked the gun, clicked the safety back into place, and re-holstered it. I accepted the silent hand offering assistance off my knees. Since wishing didn’t change fact I pushed a smile to my lips and looked up at Nicholas.
Cold fury wasn’t the emotion I expected but it was clear as day in his eyes. “Why the fuck did you come out here alone?”
“I saw someone snooping around the buses.”
“That have security systems and men rotating patrols.” Nicholas crossed his arms. “Try again.”
I sighed and looked to where Benjamin had run off to. “Benjamin was here.”
“I heard.”
I swallowed and couldn’t bear to look at him. “How much did you hear?”
“It started with the hotel room door closing and since you weren’t in bed, it was obvious who was roaming the halls. Since some maniac dropped you into hysterical panic a little over twenty four hours ago, I climbed out of bed and followed.”
“So then you know.” I braced and waited for the judgment. For the hate and disdain. For the disgust that he had ever touched me. My heart began cracking at the thought.
“My father is in jail for Fraud, Conspiracy, Drug Trafficking, and I think he got Forgery too.”
Shocked, I jerked and faced him. His face was blank but he nodded.
“For a while there he slid out of the crime and never got more than a few months here and there. I was relieved when they finally convicted him on something substantial. Every time he got out he’d come looking for me and asking for money. Just because he’s family he thought he had a right to make demands.”
“They’re not blood related.” I forced the words over my dried tongue. “My mother’s second husband and his son.”
Nicholas nodded. “Doesn’t make it right.”
I closed my eyes and hugged myself tight. “No. It really doesn’t.”
When Nicholas’s arms came around me I shuddered and pressed my face into his chest. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not yet.”
“Then we won’t. Come on. You need to change and I want bed.”
“Nicholas, I’m not good for you.”
“Neither is all that chocolate I eat. Go figure.”
The laughter startled me. “God. What am I going to do with you?”
“Hopefully, tuck me into bed.”
“We can start there.”
Outside the conference room I brushed down Nicholas. After the interview we would go to the venue for sound check and lunch. Today was busy but not crammed.
“Remember—“
“I know, Songbird. Don’t lose my temper. Smile. I get chocolate when we’re done.” Nicholas rolled his eyes.
Close enough, so I nodded. “And no flirting with me.”
“That’s a shame.” His eyes traveled down my lipstick red suit. “You look very classy in that suit. Are you wearing the same color underneath?”
I lifted a brow and tried hard not to smile though he could probably hear it in my voice. “Maybe.”
He groaned softly and looked away. “Can I see later?”
“Maybe.” I pushed him through the door and followed.
Cameras flashed the moment Nicholas stepped into the room. With an awkward smile and wave, he passed through the sea of people to the podium. Some murmuring occurred as I trailed behind, a few shutters clicking as I was caught pictures. My hands shook a little but I ignored it. There was no way to take back any of the other pictures, so these ones shouldn’t bother me.
Nicholas waited for me to stand beside him before speaking. “Thanks for coming everyone. I really appreciate you being here today. I have a busy day today so this is going to be quick. Y’all know whom I am, which makes this easy. Raise your hand with your question ready and I’ll call on you. Let’s get started.”
Nicholas called on a man in a blue suit. “There’s a rumor that you’ve recently changed production managers in the middle of the tour. You’ve cut more than half of your tour dates. What problems are you having because of the change?”
“I’m not having any problems. My previous production manager was adequate at his job but now I have someone who excels. Gracing Productions is the best in the industry. My tour dates have been cut in half at my request because I’d like to get home as soon as possible.”
This time another suit guy was called on. “Are you worried that your tour manager has other agendas besides running your tour?”
My blood dropped in temperature and Nicholas’s back stiffened. “What?”
“A source has revealed that Miss Sheridan isn’t just a tour director and provides other services to you and other members of your entourage. Is this true?” The rephrased question wasn’t any better.
I wanted to reach out and squeeze his shoulder as a reminder not to lose his temper but couldn’t feel my fingers. Every part of me had turned to ice. Other services?
Nicholas’s laughter was amused evil. “Other services? Well, Bianca does compose and play music. As far as I’m aware being multi-talented isn’t a crime. You,” he pointed at random.
“Is it true that you’ve engaged in an illicit affair with your tour manager, including your band members in on the fun?”
“Polyandry isn’t illegal.” Nicholas’s voice was tight. “However, I don’t share. If I was having an affair, I certainly wouldn’t be wasting my time with you. A woman is infinitely more fun than an interview.”
Nervous laughter echoed a moment before Nicholas called on the next one.
“Are you comfortable having people with dubious pasts as members of your staff?”
Nicholas’s fingers drummed on the table a moment. “We all have things we regret in our past. Why should I judge someone on their past when I’m working with them now? And I by no means have a stellar track record.” He pointed again.
“There has been a report that Miss Percival illegally fired a gun recently at a family member who was attempting to reconcile their differences. How do you feel having such a violent person as part of your staff?”
My breath caught and the room spun a little. This was out of hand—this attack was aimed at me, not Nicholas. If I got my hands on my little shit of a brother he would be a dead man. How dare he do this to Nicholas.
“Really?” Nicholas’s tone was cool amusement. “Many members of my staff have pistol permits and conceal carry licenses. I don’t keep track who. More than the security people around me offer protection. There was a gun fired due to an attempted break in of one of the buses. That was handled by my security staff directly. I was in bed so I don’t know any more than that. If Bianca has the same temper I do…” Nicholas shrugged but it lacked any form of casualness. “Then we’d be peas in a pod wouldn’t we?”
Nicholas pointed to a woman in pinstripe. “Does it bother you that Miss Bianca Sheridan is less than qualified to run a tour?”
Bile rose in my throat and I forced it down. Throwing up would only make this worse. A lot worse. My stomach churned, and I was so glad I hadn’t eaten before coming in.
Everyone heard the deep calming breath Nicholas took and I wanted to hug him for trying to control his temper. “Mrs. Belladonna Gracing is one of the most skilled I’ve ever worked with. Anyone who refuses to acknowledge the hard work she’s put into my tour is not only an ignorant sap but a fucking asshole as well.”
Nicholas stood abruptly. “None of this is about me. Since no one has any questions actually for me, I’m done.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me to his side before dropping his over my shoulders drawing me out before I could apologize for his sudden rudeness.
Ignoring the questions hurled at us as we passed through the room I was forced to trot to keep up with Nicholas’s long stride. Abruptly Nicholas pulled us into a secluded cubby hole and dragged me into a tight hug
Nicholas’s arms tightened enough that breathing became difficult. “I want my chocolate.”
With a shaky sigh I nodded. “In the Suburban
.”
He let me go and we walked out to where Henry already had the vehicle parked at the curb. Nicholas held the door and followed me inside.
Nicholas reclined the best he could next to me, munching happily on a Snickers I Henry passed back before heading the car back to the concert hall. Keeping the bag of chocolate in the car kept Nicholas from eating it all during his interviews.
As my fear subsided, rage began to boil. Wisely, or ignorantly depending on his mood, he didn’t interrupt my bubbling anger. Not until he finished his chocolate bar anyway.
“That went well.” His eyes shifted to me.
A furious huff exploded from me and he lifted a brow.
“It did. I don’t think I could have handled it any better. Thanks, Songbird for the praise,” he continued.
“It fucking wasn’t about you, which is the whole damn point of this fucking tour.” I would have liked to beat my head against the seat.
“Come now, you knew he was going to try something. I wasn’t expecting it but considering the source I should have. Mending fences was a little over the top I think, but I suppose sympathy for an abuser wouldn’t have worked as well.”
No sympathy for an abuser wouldn’t have worked well but to tip off the reporters with this shit had me ready to hunt Benjamin down and feed him to sharks. If I wasn’t careful Benjamin could turn Nicholas’s tour into a circus. Like hell I would allow that.
I rubbed my hands over my face. “You shouldn’t have cursed at them.”
“You’re not going to revisit the dubious past question?” He nibbled on my finger.
I tugged on my hand but Nicholas held it firmly. “Walker, let go.”
“No, not yet.” He tugged a lot harder than I did pulling me across his lap.
“Walker, dammit.” I shifted and tried to pull my skirt back into place.
“This would be easier if you straddled me.” He into my ear.
“Dammit, Henry is right there.” I pushed my free hand against his chest and fought desire when his eyes turned molten. “No. Not in the car. Not right now. I’m too pissed for this.”
“SUV.” He nuzzled my neck. “Angry sex is often better than normal sex. Henry turn the radio up.”
“No.” Panic and laughter both bubbled up churning my stomach. “No. Control yourself, Walker.”
Nicholas let go of my hand and with both hands firmly gripping my ass, twisted in his seat taking me with him so we were half reclined in the backseat.
“Walker, we’re both too tall for this.” I pushed both hands against his chest again but he didn’t release me.
He pulled me down and rubbed all our best places together. “I want you.” His voice dropped to a husky whisper. “I need you, Bianca.”
Despite my best intentions my blood began to heat. I could see desire etched into his face. Along with something else I wasn’t willing to explore.
“Henry.” Someone needed to be the voice of reason, and it appeared it was going to have to be me, even though my voice shook.
“He’ll give us a minute, won’t you, Henry? You can park the car and step out can’t you?”
“Yes, Mr. Walker.” Humor laced the guard’s words. “If you can wait five minutes we’ll be parked at the concert hall.”
“See,” Nicholas’s attention returned to me. “Please, Songbird.” His mouth brushed the side of my face and he lifted his hips pressing firmly into me once more.
“Sex doesn’t fix the problem.” I shifted away again.
“I have a problem it can fix.”
“So will a cold shower.” I pushed again. “Really, Walker. I’m not in the mood.”
A hand skimmed up my side. “Where is… Oh.” His fingers brushed over the corset holding the guns. “Good to know where they are. Maybe you could keep just these on this time?”
His hand continued up and wrapped in my braid—there was no point in doing anything else with my hair in Texas climate—and tugged. My lips curved.
“You love to pull my hair.” I leaned in and pressed our mouths together for a brief kiss. “Why is that?”
His eyes lit with mischief and he shrugged.
When the SUV stopped I reached for the door behind Nicholas and we tumbled out. Nicholas landed on his back on the asphalt with me on top.
“Fuck.” Nicholas’s face was pained.
“Are you hurt?” I cupped his jaw in my hands. “Did you hit your head?”
“No. Take your knee off my dick.” His voice choked when I shifted again.
“Oh.” With a little laugh I climbed to my feet and looked over at the pale faced security man. “Henry forgot the child lock.”
“So it appears.” Nicholas rolled to his side before climbing to his feet. “I want you to kiss it and make it better.”
“Later.” I checked him over for possible injury. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
“Top bunk of a bed is higher than that.” He rolled his shoulders. “Seriously, kiss it and make it better.”
“Later.” I grabbed his hand and dragged him into the concert venue. “You have work to do now.
I forgot about the backstage passes for press until the cameras flashed. I stiffened but Nicholas remained leaning casually against me. His smile was tight—from the blue balls probably—but his dimples winked.
“There you are.” Taylor ignored the press and stepped over. Since his back was to them he rolled his eyes. “Nicholas, you’re needed for the sound check.”
“Sure.” Nicholas straightened and tugged the end of my braid. When I looked up frowning he kissed me and pulled back before I could recover from surprise. He winked as I sent him a fuming look. I had no doubt that had been caught by some lucky photographer.
“Songbird, can you show these…” He wisely swallowed whatever derogatory term he was about to use for the press at my warning look. “Gentlemen to the best seats in the house.”
“We’ve got this.” Taylor sent him a thumbs up. “Get on stage, Nicholas.”
“Press isn’t allowed backstage during the concert.” I stepped easily into my roll. I would deal with Nicholas Walker later.
I spent the majority of preshow time politely sidestepping personal questions, redirecting questions to relate to Nicholas and the tour, and rapidly building a tension headache. This was why I changed my name in Nashville. This exact reason.
If I had wanted to discuss my work would I have bothered trying for anonymity? If I had intended on spring boarding off Nicholas, wouldn’t it have been a better idea to start with a bang? Wouldn’t I have announced who I was at the start of this whole thing if I wanted the publicity for Gracing Production? These people were idiots.
When the press was ushered out so I could set up for dinner I collapsed, reclining on the sofa as I closed my eyes. My head was killing me and my ears were still ringing. Thank God the show was about to start. Press would be secluded up on the balcony and I would have some damn peace.
I didn’t hear the door open, but I heard the chatter of the guys and surprisingly Taylor and the Five. I didn’t move. I didn’t have the energy to move right then.
The sofa dipped and a familiar weight pressed me into the cushions. I sighed and shifted enough to slide a hand into Nicholas’s back pocket. He chuckled and wedged arms around me to hold me in a horizontal hug. His breath tickled my cheek.
“You look pale and worn out.” He nibbled my jaw.
“Tension headache.” I turned my head enough to brush our mouths together. “Go eat. I’ll be fine.”
The headache bordered on migraine and that worried me a little. I hadn’t needed an Imitrex since leaving New York. Was my prescription even still valid after all this time? God, I hoped my head didn’t get that bad.
“Cancel the backstage passes for Dallas.” He kissed my temple when I turned my head back.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t like seeing you tired and pale with a tension headache.”
“Doing my job isn’t always going to be plea
sant, Nicholas.”
“All right, let’s try it this way. Because seeing you tired and pale pisses me off and I’m less likely to be polite.”
“You have to play nice.” My scolding lacked any real irritation.
“No. I don’t fucking have to play nice. You do. And I’m more than happy to leave that to you. But upsetting you upsets me. Cancel the passes, Songbird. We can go a couple of shows without people breathing down our necks.”
A cold cloth was suddenly pressed to my head. The chill helped against the building pain and I sighed in relief. “Thanks.”
The Dallas press was important, sort of. He wasn’t doing interviews in Dallas; that’s why the passes had been issued to begin with. I wasn’t sure if I had the strength at the moment to argue with Nicholas. Even with the cold cloth my head pounded with ferocity. Sometimes arguing with Nicholas wasn’t worth it.
“I’ll make the phone calls after dinner with follow up emails.” I waved a hand vaguely after a moment. “To cancel the Dallas passes.”
His lips pressed lightly against my cheek. “Thank you.”
The arm of the sofa where my head reclined dipped as Juliette sat. “She won’t be able to eat with a headache. She’ll just throw it up. Henry says there’s a deli down the street that serves soups. Henley and Fitz went down to see if they could get something gentle for flower power’s stomach.”
Downside of family—they knew everything. Still, with a cold cloth pressed to my head and a comfortable, familiar weight pressed against me it was hard to complain. Much.
After the meal I did something I hadn’t done in years. I sat at the spinet piano in the corner of the dressing room voluntarily. I needed to let the tension out before the headache became a migraine of epic proportions.
The guys were cleaning up and changing into stage clothes. They tossed banter around like they normally did but I tuned it out. I focused inwardly and let my hands run scales as I gathered everything that needed to come out. What poured from me was violent, angry and more than a little disturbing. I let it all purge, holding nothing in. By the end I was shaking and sweating, but calm and cleansed.
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