by Loki Renard
“Hm, well, I guess that’s sort of true,” she admitted. “I like to write music and I like to sing and dance, but they’re all work related. I suppose my work is sort of my life.”
Miles looked up from the notebook. “So you don’t do anything to relax. What about friends, who should I expect to see around the place?”
“Well,” Cash said, squirming a little in her seat. “Most of the people who come around you’ve already met. There’s Raoul, and Kevin and of course there’s Mandy and Candy and Brandy – they do my hair and make up – oh and Sandy, the stylist.”
“Mandy, Candy, Brandy and Sandy,” he repeated incredulously. “You wouldn’t be making those names up, would you?”
“If I was going to make up names, they’d be better than that,” Cash said. “I think Mandy, Candy and Brandy chose those names to sound cute together – Sandy was just collateral damage.”
Miles smirked as he made a note. God he had a sexy smile. Cash could have written an entire song about the way the muscles in his cheek moved.
“So aside from those six, are there any others?”
“There’s others who come and go, people in the business, Kevin knows all of them.”
“Any personal friends?”
Cash shrugged. “Not really.”
“So you don’t have any leisure activities, and you don’t socialize with anyone,” Miles repeated.
“Yeah, I guess.” Cash braced herself for a judgmental lecture, but there was none forthcoming. Miles simply nodded and moved along.
“Is there anything else you think I should know about?”
She played with the straw in her diet coke and gave him what she hoped was a coy look. “You’re not going to tell me I need to get out more?”
“It’s hardly my place, Miss Raine,” Miles said briefly.
It was a simple comment, delivered without emotion, but it hit Cash like a cold slap. Not his place? For the umpteenth time that day, she recalled their conversation after the concert. She remembered how he’d looked at her with sympathy and care, the way he’d called her ‘sweetheart’. All day she’d been thinking about it, feeling warm and safe every time she remembered it. Now she wondered if it had ever happened at all.
“Well,” she said, pushing her plate away. “I guess that’s all I can say. I’m boring.”
“Then it is my turn,” Miles said, ignoring her self depreciation, “to let you know what my expectations are.”
Cash felt a familiar tingle coming back as he closed the notebook and gave her his full attention, his dark eyes settling on her with an intensity that seemed to come naturally to him. “If I’m to provide security for you, you’ll need to keep me informed of your plans. If you’re going out, just let me know. I’ll make sure to be there, or to ensure that somebody equally qualified is in place. If you require privacy, that can also be arranged.”
“Privacy?”
He gave her a ghost of a smile. “It’s my way of telling you I won’t be lurking in the closet if you have a date.”
“Oh, that’s good I suppose,” she said, sitting back and feeling rather flat. Miles was being very professional, which was probably a good thing, but she couldn’t help but wish he would be… friendlier. “Are we done?”
“I don’t have any more questions for the moment,” he said. “Do you?”
She chewed at her inner lip and shook her head. “Guess not.”
“Good, then it’s all settled.” He stood up. “I’ll leave you to your lunch.”
Cash scowled to herself as Miles walked away. She felt foolish. Obviously he had been nothing but professional when he’d ushered her home to bed, and obviously the term of endearment meant nothing. A rush of hot shame slid over her, god, she really had been an idiot to think that he might actually like her – and even more of an idiot to get so attached in such a short period of time. As her embarrassment and disappointment grew she compensated by telling herself that there were attractive men all over the place, she didn’t need to be moping over a hopped up rent-a-cop.
Caught with a sudden impulse to assert herself as an independent woman, Cash tossed down her napkin and made her way over to the wet bar. She was not in the habit of drinking, but she was fairly certain that the sting of rejection would be a lot less intense with a glass or two inside her. She yanked out the first bottle of wine that came to hand and set it on the wet bar.
“Cash, what are you doing?” Kevin was the first to inquire. “You have an interview in a couple of hours.”
“So?” She twisted the screw cap open and hunted for a glass. “What does that matter?” She found a red wine glass and filled it to the brim, sloshing some wine on the counter as she did. Whilst Kevin looked on with impotent horror, she took a big long drink. It tasted much like she thought battery acid probably would, but that didn’t stop her from topping up the glass and holding her breath as she gave it another go.
The second slurp did not please her any more than the first had done, but there was a fairly pleasant warmth as it slid down her throat and settled in her belly. By that stage, Miles had noticed that all was not well in the suite. He turned to look at her and she locked eyes with him as she downed the third dose.
“Cash, quit it!” Kevin’s voice had developed more bass, but not nearly enough. Cash filled the glass a third time, though by that stage she was starting to feel a little queasy. Between the sloshing and the slurping she’d only consumed about half a glass, but it was enough to make her stomach start to turn.
Miles approached and she turned her back on him. “Miss Raine,” he said mildly, somewhere behind her. “I think you should refrain.”
“It’s hardly your place to say, is it?” She snapped the question as she slammed the glass down without drinking any more. The moment the glass hit the counter top, another loud sound filled the air. Cash grasped at her backside and whirled around, her mouth open in an ‘o’ of surprise as she looked at Miles in shock.
“Enough,” Miles said, the word falling stony and hard from his lips.
“You hit me!” Cash didn’t have to feign outrage, she was outraged. He might have made some earlier reference to spanking, but damn, it hurt. It really hurt!
“I swatted you, Miss Raine,” he said, completely unapologetic.
Looking from Miles to Kevin, who was staring at the both of them with a sort of stunned approval, Cash felt her eyes fill with completely unbidden tears. Mortified, she turned and ran, escaping into the bedroom that wasn’t really her bedroom, just another the hotel suite she was trying to pretend was home. She dived onto the bed, crawled under the covers and hid, her bottom stinging as she burst into tears.
“Cash?” Miles’ voice cut through the sounds of her misery, deep and soothing, and concerned “Cash, honey, are you alright?” He’d followed her. She was glad, but it didn’t take away any of the shock or embarrassment at having been smacked.
“Stop it,” she sniffed in her quilted den.
“Stop what?”
“Stop being nice to me when I’m upset and then acting like I’m nothing the rest of the time.”
There was a pause. “What do you mean?”
“You were nice to me after the concert, then today you acted like I was just…” She couldn’t finish the sentence. She was going to say ‘just a client’, but she was just a client and worse than that, they’d only known one another a few days. She was acting like a crazy person and she knew it. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “Just… leave me alone.”
“I’m not going to leave you alone,” he said. She felt the bed dip under his weight as he sat beside her. “Talk to me, Cash.”
“You hit me.”
“You were spoiling for it, and you’re not even of age to be drinking. Now tell me what’s really bothering you.”
“There’s nothing I can say that doesn’t make me sound crazy,” she sniffed. “So just… leave me, please.”
“I strongly doubt there is anything you could say that would make me think
you’re crazy,” he said. “Just try me.”
Cash squeezed her eyes tightly shut. “I like you, okay? I know you don’t like me and I know you think I am some stupid slutty pop star, so can we just forget it? Please?”
“Cash,” he said. “I don’t think you’re slutty…”
“Yes you do!” She exclaimed into the downy softness of the bed. “It was written all over your face after the concert.”
“I think you perform some provocative songs,” he said. “And I’m old fashioned enough to prefer other forms of entertainment, but that doesn’t make you a slut. As for the rest of it, Cash, I like you too, but I’m your bodyguard. I’m here to keep you safe, and I intend to do that.”
“That’s why you hit me?”
“I swatted you because you were behaving like a petulant little brat,” he said, a touch of affectionate humor in his voice.
Cash scowled underneath the covers. That wasn’t what she wanted to hear.
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he continued. “It was something of a reflex.”
She scowled beneath the sheets. “You reflex hit people? That’s going to get you into trouble.”
“Well not most people,” he amended. “Just young ladies who seem to really need it.”
“I don’t need to be hit,” she said, offended. “Nobody needs to be hit.”
She heard him sigh. “Cash, come out of there and let me talk to you properly.”
Squirming onto her side she pushed back the covers and looked at him. She immediately wished she hadn’t. He was looking at her with those dark gray eyes that held an unfathomable expression.
“Why did you do it?” She asked the question to hide her own embarrassment. “Why did you have to smack me?”
“Because…” he sighed again and ran a hand through his hair. He managed to look handsome whilst frustrated too. “I can’t really say without crossing a line, Miss Raine.”
“I think you already crossed that line,” she pointed out. “When you smacked me and made me cry.”
“That’s what bothered me, the tears,” he said. “I didn’t intend to upset you.” He smiled a little and patted her thigh. “It didn’t hurt that much, did it?”
“No,” she admitted. “It was just… a shock.”
“I bet,” he said. “Nobody pulls you into line much, do they?”
“I don’t need pulling into line,” Cash said indignantly. “I’m not like those other girls who are always getting into trouble and getting arrested…”
“No, you’re one of the ones who flies under the radar,” he said. “The one who thinks nobody notices what she’s getting up to.” He gave her one of those looks that made her stomach fizz with excitement. “Miss Raine, I used to command dozens of men. I know to watch the quiet ones.”
She allowed herself a little semi-guilty smile. “But I didn’t really do anything…”
He chuckled, a warm, rich sound. “That’s what they all say.”
She looked at him, his lean frame looking perfect and hard, even perched on the side of her bed. His long legs were bent in a way that drew her eyes to his lap for a reason she couldn’t quite explain. Then there were his hands, she’d never paid attention to how large they were before, but now that she looked, she saw how it was that the sting in her bottom almost covered both her cheeks, his hands were huge.
Somewhere in all the gazing and the heat sinking through her flesh, the mood in the room shifted. She was technically wearing shorts, but they were thin and she wasn’t wearing any panties under them and she could feel a slow seeping warmth between her lips. Goddamn, all he had to do was look at her and her body responded. Even her nipples were hardening beneath the white tank top. With the way she was lying, she felt, for a moment, as if she were offering herself to him.
Miles cleared his throat and drew his hand away from her leg, leaving a sense impression on her skin where she could still feel his warmth. Cash was almost certain he wasn’t immune to what was passing between them. If she wasn’t very much mistaken, color was rising even on his tanned face. She moved slightly and he leaped up as if the bed had suddenly turned into lava.
“Just as long as you’re alright, and we understand one another,” he said, just barely meeting her eyes.
Cash bit her lower lip. “I understand that you’re running away.”
“I’m not running away,” he said. “I’m keeping things professional.”
“Which means you won’t be smacking me again,” she said, sitting up on the bed.
“I wouldn’t count on that, Miss Raine,” he said, turning to leave. “There’s ways and means of keeping that professional.”
“You mean if I paid you to do it? Wait, I sort of do.” She stood up and put her hands on her hips. “You work for me, Mr. Rock, which means you should do what I tell you.”
“Cash, sweetheart,” he said softly, taking her hand in his and patting the back of it lightly. “I wouldn’t recommend bringing that up too often. I don’t think you’ll like the consequences.”
She looked into his face and silently agreed that she probably wouldn’t. Miles was clearly not a man to be antagonized – not unless you liked pain, which she didn’t. “Okay,” she said in a small voice.
“Take a few minutes to compose yourself,” he said, letting her hand go.
“Okay,” Cash agreed again as he turned and left her and her still stinging bottom alone.
A few minutes turned out to be a very conservative estimate. It took Cash a good hour to work up the courage to leave her room. When she sheepishly crept out into the suite Miles was nowhere in sight, but Kevin was sitting nearby, working on his laptop. He gave her a smirking headshake.
“Damn Cash, you know how to make a scene.”
She screwed her face up even as she blushed. “Let’s never talk about it again.”
“Don’t sweat it,” Kevin said. “He was a hell of a lot worse as a CO.”
“And you unleashed him on me! Why would you do that?” Cash was only sort of teasing.
“Because he’s the best, and he’s a damn good man,” Kevin said, tapping at the keyboard. “You’ll get used to his… weirdness.” As Kevin spoke, Miles entered the room from the balcony. Cash noticed that he moved very quietly, though he didn’t seem to be trying to. Kevin certainly hadn’t noticed that Miles was there.
In an attempt to prevent Kevin from getting into trouble, Cash widened her eyes at him and shook her head, but Kevin wasn’t paying any kind of attention and kept staring at the screen, even as Miles came within earshot. “He likes to be in control, that’s all. Just keep your head down and cover your ass if you don’t. It’s what we used to do.”
“Oh do tell.” Miles spoke up and Cash almost giggled. The stricken look on Kevin’s face was priceless as, for just a second, he was obviously transported to another place and another time. She watched as he shook it off and smiled.
“Water under the bridge,” he said. “That was a long time ago.”
“Not that long ago,” Miles said. “I’d love to hear any stories you have to share.” He spoke in a deadpan, authoritarian tone tempered by a wry twist of his lips.
Kevin grinned. “A couple of years ago and I’d be worried, today, not so much.” His confident
words were belied by the shiftiness of his gaze. “Just giving Cash a little reassurance, is all.”
“I don’t think Miss Raine needs any reassurance of the kind you were in the process of giving her,” Miles said. “As I said when I accepted the position, I like a little order about the place.”
“Order means hitting people,” Cash said to Kevin, “so you better be careful.”
“The punishments he used to give us would make you beg to be hit, Cash,” Kevin said. “Don’t be fooled by his cuddly exterior.”
“Cuddly exterior,” Cash giggled, repeating the phrase. There was nothing cuddly about Miles, he was hard as nails and though she hadn’t yet had the pleasure of seeing him without a shirt on, she was sure th
at his body was hard and muscular with little to no ‘cuddliness’.
Miles folded his arms over his chest as Kevin and Chase chortled at his expense. “Don’t you two both have work to be getting on with?”
“Sir, yes sir,” Cash said, giving him a playful salute. She was already feeling much better, somehow the upset from the smack had turned into something much more mellow – a sense of security that was quite unexpected. Her spirit felt lighter and freer than it had in a long time and though Miles mock scowled at her and threatened to repeat the treatment if she didn’t go and get ready for her interview, she couldn’t help but smile as she made her way over to the makeup team who were setting up on the other side of the suite.
Chapter Four
“I need all the details for everyone coming on tour,” Miles said, sitting down with Kevin and turning the conversation back to the business at hand. “Is it just Cash and the support staff we already know?”
“Not quite,” Kevin said, looking very pleased with himself. “I think I might have swung a deal to get another one of my artists on the European leg as an opener for Cash.”
“Who is that?”
“Stabby. Longstockings.” Kevin said the name in two distinct parts, as if Miles was supposed to be impressed by it.
“Stabby Longstockings,” Miles repeated the name incredulously. “What’s her real name?”
Kevin made an unimpressed face at him. “Mattie Dwyer, or Matilda Dwyer if you want the full name. She’s a bit of a firebrand, but she’ll add some edge to this tour.”
“I thought there was enough edge in those dances Cash does,” Miles said dryly.
“Different sort of edge. Cash is sugar, Mattie is spice.” Kevin turned the laptop so Miles could see it, and hit play on a video. Discordant bassy sound began pouring out of the speakers, followed by the semi-lyrical screeching of a young woman unleashing a torrent of profanity that made Miles physically wince with the force of his own disapproval.
“Don’t tell me you’re bringing some strung out misfit on tour,” he said, reaching over to hit the space bar so the cacophony stopped.