To Win Her Trust
Page 12
Tonight was the first real test of her theory. She was about to step into the lion’s den with several thousand strangers, and the knowledge made her knees knock beneath the hem of her silk dress. Would Tuck’s comforting presence keep her grounded, or would she lose her nerve, embarrassing herself, and him, in the process?
Maybe they should find a quiet corner and get to the kissing right now.
A hysterical giggle begged for release, and she flicked him a sidelong glance. Without his ball cap and dark glasses, his shaggy, sun-streaked hair and famous face were on display for all to see. Cool, confident, and freaking gorgeous, his dark suit fit his muscular body with mouth-watering precision bound to draw eyes.
He turned his head, caught her studying him, and pulled her to a stop. His fingers squeezed hers. “You okay?”
She slapped her free hand to her belly. “What the hell was I thinking? I can’t do this. I think I’m going to throw up.”
A soft smile curved his lips.
“Oh sure. Laugh. It’s all fun and games until someone blows chunks.”
He did laugh then, but he also wrapped her in his arms. She pressed her cheek against the cool material of his lapel and held on. His warm hand rode the slope of her back.
“Breathe, sunshine. You’re doing great.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you knew how badly my legs are shaking.”
His chuckle vibrated beneath her cheek. “I can feel them.”
“Ohhhh,” she groaned.
He contracted his arms in a gentle squeeze. “They’re very sexy, even when they’re shaking.”
A tortured laugh gurgled up and out.
Another squeeze. “You’re overthinking things again. Relax.”
“How? There are thousands of people in there.”
“Yeah.” He dropped his chin to rest on the top of her head. “Thousands of people who paid good money to hear my cousin and her partner sing. They’ll be looking at the stage. No one will even notice us.”
She pulled back enough to look him in the eye. “Says the guy who’s been on the cover of six magazines since the beginning of the year.”
His teeth flashed in a wicked grin, and his voice dropped to a sly murmur. “Have you been counting?”
She would not blush. She wouldn’t, but just in case… She tucked her head back into his chest.
Warm fingers spread over her back and drew lazy circles at her waist. “I’m flattered.”
She cleared her throat. Embarrassed, she went on the offense. “Don’t be. It was research.”
The light swat to her ass made her squeak and jump back. He caught her chin with a crooked forefinger and lifted her face. “You’re a beautiful woman. People are always going to look. I say, fuck ’em.”
She squeezed her eyes shut against a wave of nausea. “I know this whole stupid idea was mine, Tuck, and I appreciate you stepping up the game by bringing me here, but I don’t think I can do this.”
He slid his hands up to cup her upper arms. Dipping his head until they were nose to nose, he shook her slightly. “You’re stronger than you think, CC Calhoun. A survivor. Those people in there don’t know you, and they don’t give a damn about you. Why should you care what they think? Are you going to let fear steal the full life that should be yours?”
A harsh laugh escaped and tears stung her eyes and nose. How was he able to peek into her soul? Deep down to where the shadows reigned? Belief gleamed in his eyes. Belief in her. The strength of it, the strength of him, fanned a simmering flame. For him and for the full life he saw in her future.
She shook her head. “No. No, I’m not.”
He dropped his forehead to rest against hers. “That’s my girl.” Straightening, he slid his hands down her arms to link his fingers with hers. “Remember, you’re not alone. I’m right here. Just a kiss away.”
His grin was so tempting she almost rose on her toes for a taste. She rolled her eyes instead.
Grinning, he squeezed her fingers. “Ready?”
She heaved a long breath and nodded. He released one hand and opened the door.
The excited din of thousands of concertgoers made her stomach muscles contract, but instead of entering the fray on the mezzanine floor as expected, he tugged her into a private balcony suite. She gripped the rail with shaking fingers and gawked at the mob of well-dressed strangers twenty feet below.
Turning her head, she cast him an accusing glare. “You might have mentioned we’d be in the penthouse suite.”
His teeth flashed in an innocent smile.
Max and his slim redheaded date were already seated. He stood to greet CC with a warm hug, then introduced them to Amy. The lights began to dim, signaling the show was about to start, and the murmur of voices from below faded. Tuck guided her into a seat and sat beside her.
She leaned close, and he dipped his head toward her to hear her whisper. “How am I supposed to ‘fuck ’em’, like you suggested, if I never get within an arm’s reach?”
His deep bark of laughter drew the attention of the couple in the next suite, along with a handful of people seated in the rows below them. He slid an arm around her shoulders and pressed his lips to her ear. “Baby steps, sunshine. Tonight’s about foreplay. We’ll get to the fucking…soon.”
Holy double entendre. Jerking straight in her seat, she stared at the rising curtain and refused to acknowledge both the compelling tingles of heat causing a near riot in her lower body and the laughing devil at her side.
Along with her gifted singing partner, Jessi Tucker’s undeniable talent quickly eclipsed CC’s jittery nerves. At the tender age of twenty, Tuck’s petite cousin owned the stage with a powerful voice and easy presence even seasoned entertainers would envy. Within minutes, CC found herself clapping along to the country pair’s upbeat songs and sighing at the heart-wrenching lyrics. She grinned and decided charm must be a Tucker family trait when his cousin invited one of their young fans on stage for a sing along, then complained good-naturedly at how she was in danger of being replaced. The fine hair on CC’s arms stood on end, and she clutched at Tuck’s hand when Jessi closed the show by hitting and holding a note CC didn’t think was humanly possible.
If she hadn’t been a fan before, she was now. The theater began to clear, and she wore a happy smile as their group made their way backstage.
Tuck knocked on Jessi’s dressing room door, and they filed inside. Jessi looked over, grinned, and raced across the room to throw herself into Tuck’s arms. “You came!”
He laughed and kissed her cheek. “I told you I would.”
She dipped her head to the side to peek around his shoulder. “Who’d you bring with you?”
New England roots were evident in her soft voice, so different from the powerhouse pipes and larger-than-life personality she presented on stage. He loosened his arms, and she slid to her booted feet.
“A couple of friends.” He tossed an arm over her shoulders and turned. “CC Calhoun, meet my squirt cousin, Jessi Tucker.” He pinched a long, dark auburn curl between his fingers and tugged.
Jessi slapped his hand away, but her deep blue eyes twinkled with happiness. “A pleasure.”
“The pleasure’s mine. The show was incredible.”
Twin dimples dented the flawless skin of her piquant smile. “Oh, aren’t you good for the ego.”
“And this is Amy….” A wince twisted Tuck’s lips. “I’m sorry. Max didn’t mention your last name.”
“It’s Dunn.” The tall redhead smiled. “CC’s right. You and Spence put on quite a show.”
Jessi’s tinkling laugh was self-depreciating, and she dipped her head conspiratorially. “Spence was great, as usual. Don’t tell anyone, but I’m a complete weenie. I suffer from horrible stage fright.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
All eyes shot to Max. Typically, an easy smile rode his tough guy features.
Tuck bumped his chin in his friend’s direction. “Uncle Ryan would tear me a new one if he knew I was
introducing you to thugs, but this one’s name is Max Grayson.”
Max bared his teeth in a feral smile. Tuck returned one of his own. Jessi flicked Tuck a disapproving scowl, then turned back to Max. CC followed her gaze, eyeing Max’s cropped hair and the dark curve of the tribal tattoo climbing out from beneath the collar of his dress shirt to twine around the back of his neck.
“Don’t be mean, Tuck.” Jessi’s wide-eyed gaze roamed over Max in a bold survey. “Why, I’m sure your friend is a big ol’ teddy bear.”
Tuck choked on a short laugh. “You got the bear part right.”
She waved him off with an airy swing of her hand and fluttered her lashes at Max. “Did I really?”
Confusion crinkled Max’s brow. “Did you what?”
“Fool you?” She grinned and cocked her head. “You don’t look like the kind of man who’d be easily duped.”
Tuck turned on her with an arched brow. “You know a lot about men, do you, little girl?”
Jessi blushed and dropped her gaze to the floor. CC stifled a groan. Men could be such idiots. Clearly he hadn’t noticed the fresh light of feminine interest in Jessi’s young eyes as she stared at Max. From the indulgent curve of her lips, Amy had.
Max rubbed a palm over the dark stubble shadowing his chin and bent his knees until he could catch Jessi’s gaze. “You’re right. Not much gets past me. That’s why I’m having a hard time buying the stage fright story.”
She jerked up straight, and the wounded look in her eyes squeezed CC’s heart. Obviously, pride was another family trait. Jessi poked out her chin at a stubborn angle, and the hurt gave way to a pointed glare.
Before she could blast him, he held up a hand. “Hold on. That wasn’t an accusation.” He shook his head, and his smile softened. “What I should have said is, anyone who can wow a crowd the way you just did has nothing to be afraid of.”
Tuck smirked. “Spoken like a true teddy bear.”
“Fuck you.” A grin stretched Max’s lips. “Didn’t you say something about a late dinner? I’m starving.”
“Max!” Amy’s censorious gaze darted to Jessi, then back.
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Tuck squeezed his cousin’s shoulders. “The squirt grew up in the Tucker clan. She’s heard much worse.”
Jessi stared at Tuck’s friend without blinking, and her melting smile spoke volumes. A twinge of embarrassed guilt made CC bite her lip. Like an unseen voyeur, she watched in helpless fascination as the young starlet lost a little piece of her heart.
Dismay weighed heavily on CC’s shoulders as her gaze sliced to Tuck. She knew just how little Jessi Tucker felt.
Chapter 13
“CC? You’re awfully quiet. You okay in there?”
She chewed her lower lip and her forehead wrinkled as she peered over her shoulder into the trio of mirrors. Hell no, she wasn’t okay. She tugged at the red lace thong bisecting her ass cheeks like crimson dental floss. How did strippers stand these things? And how had Tuck ever persuaded her to agree to this embarrassing exercise? She spun around and popped her head through the slit in the dressing room curtain.
“I’m not stepping one foot out there in this thing.”
Like a pasha taking his ease in his private harem, Tuck was sprawled on a soft leather couch surrounded by a half dozen, iridescent silk pillows. Fingers laced on his flat belly, his thickly muscled chest tested the seams of the black, short-sleeved T-shirt molded over his upper body. Beneath khaki shorts, one tanned calf was propped over the other knee.
He shot her an innocent smile. “Aw. Come on. You showed me the others.”
True, and the private fashion show had proven a costly mistake. Wasn’t her willpower already shaky enough? Self-sabotage wasn’t only stupid, it was dangerous. Holy crap, she was playing with fire. But geez, how was she supposed to stay focused on holding him off when everything within her cried out to step into his arms and discover what all those sensual promises in his eyes and kisses were about?
Still, who knew standing before a man in a tiny bikini would be so…titillating? Or that the blatant desire in his eyes would deliver an irresistible sense of feminine power? Uh-huh, and that feminine power had nothing on the tempting fantasies his heated gaze produced.
She winced and tugged the curtain tight around her face. “Yeah, well, the others had actual material. This thing is nothing more than a couple of strings and three quarter-sized scraps of lace. I’m practically naked.”
The smile slid from his face. Ruddy color bloomed on his cheekbones, and his eyes blazed with wicked intent. He dropped his foot to the floor, and his palms went to his knees as he sat forward. “Then I’ll join you in there.”
She nearly ripped the curtain down as she jerked an arm through the panels and held out her hand, palm forward. “Don’t you dare!”
His lips turned down in a pout worthy of a five-year-old, but to her immense relief, he remained seated. “That’s not fair. I want to see.”
“I mean it, Tucker. Don’t get off that couch.”
He shook his head. “That’s just mean, sunshine.”
Mean or not, she meant what she said. If he thought she’d let him, or anyone else, get a peek at her in this obscene excuse for swimwear, he was off in the head. He sprawled back on the couch, but she didn’t trust his acquiescence for a second and hesitated closing the curtain to rid herself of the stripper suit. Thankfully, the boutique owner provided a timely diversion. She entered the private salon and bent to slip a napkin and a glass of sparkling wine on the low table in front of him.
“Is there anything else I can get you, Mr. Tucker?”
His trademark dimples flashed and boyish anticipation sparkled in his eyes. “Well, Alison, now that you mention it. Got any pizza in that back room?”
The stylishly dressed merchant didn’t blink an eye at his ridiculous request. No doubt the dollar signs spinning in her eyes had caused her lids to malfunction.
“Pizza can be arranged. What toppings do you prefer?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” CC yanked the curtains closed and tore at the strings of the miniscule top barely encasing her nipples. She stripped the thong from her hips and tossed the offending garment onto the tufted couch. Grabbing her panties, and shoving her legs into them, she grumbled beneath her breath. “You’re an idiot, CC, and he’s the devil.”
Shorts pulled on and buttoned, she snatched up her blouse. The couch held half of the two dozen colorful bikinis she’d voluntarily donned and modeled over the last hour and a half. Her gaze fell on a silky, teal number, and she shivered, recalling the male appreciation in Tuck’s eyes as she modeled it.
She frowned. There’s nothing wrong with your old suit. Lots of women wear a one piece.
Her shoulders sagged on a weighty sigh. She was in trouble. Big trouble. Tossing the strap of her purse over one shoulder, she exited the changing room and stalked by him without glancing his way. He leaped to his feet and, laughing like a loon, trailed after her as she headed for the nearest exit. Before she could reach the front door, he wrapped his fingers around her arm and tugged her to a stop.
The boutique owner spoke behind them. “Oh, dear. Is there a problem?”
He turned and brought CC with him. “No problem, but you can cancel that pizza.”
With precise bearing, the shop owner clasped her hands at her waist. She didn’t even glance CC’s way. “Have you made your choices?”
He turned to CC and cocked his head. “Have we?”
“I don’t need—”
“Admit it. You liked the pink one.” He dipped his head, bringing his face closer, and dropped his voice to an intimate croon. “And the sexy teal one. So did I.”
Heat fired in her chest and raced to her cheeks. The devil had the audacity to grin, and without waiting for a response, instructed Alison to ring up the two suits.
* * * *
An hour later, Tuck wheeled the Jeep into a private, gated community. Waved through by the smiling guard manning the
booth, they passed the sculpted lawns of spectacular homes, each one grander than the next.
“Where exactly are we going?” When they’d swung by her place to pick up Walter and she asked where they were headed, he’d answered simply, “the beach.” She’d assumed they were headed for one of New Jersey’s many public beaches, but homes like these didn’t occupy the coastline where the throngs spent their days sunning and surfing. The moneyed set had their own exclusive real estate and guarded it well.
“A friend of mine has a place on the water. It’s beautiful. You’ll love it.”
Before she could comment, he turned the Jeep onto a cobbled drive and stopped before a ten-foot-tall curved iron gate. He punched a code into a panel inset in a brick wall, and the gate swung open. Her jaw nearly dropped when the sprawling mansion, looking more like a five-star resort than a private home, came into view.
At least two dozen chimneys rose from a series of pitched roofs, above what she estimated was close to one hundred windows. A second, smaller version of the grand structure sat in the distance. She’d been raised by a rock star, at least until she was nine, and had experienced the creature comforts that came with the kind of wealth most people only dreamed of, but this was ridiculous.
“Who is this friend?” She dipped her head for a better view through the windshield as he brought the vehicle to a stop. “A Kennedy?”
He laughed and twisted his upper body to tug a pair of red swim trunks from beneath Walter, where he perched on the backseat. “Nothing so glamorous. He spends his time on Wall Street, not Pennsylvania Avenue. Come on.”
Walter leaped out of the Jeep after him and loped off to investigate a row of crisply sculpted shrubs. Tuck rounded the hood as she slid out the passenger door. The blue of the Atlantic sparkled beyond the canopy of lush trees. He guided her down a brick path, and they left the buildings behind.
“Aren’t you going to stop in to say hi and at least let your friend know we’re here?”