Rock King

by Tara Leigh

  I wanted a lot of things that were never going to happen again. Ever.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the hostess seating an older couple at one of my tables and decided to be blunt. “What’s the catch?”

  Travis smiled. “No catch, unless you find the prospect of spending six months with Shane Hawthorne unappealing.”

  Yesterday I would have said that I’d rather spend the next six months sunbathing in hell. But today the problem was that I found the idea too appealing. Because the guy I’d caught a glimpse of, the one who looked more like a Good Samaritan than a bad boy, had the power to make me forget about what brought us together in the first place. Make me forget the reason I was an L.A. waitress instead of an Ivy League student. And that was not good at all.

  Pressing my lips together, I held back the outright refusal banging against my teeth and turned away to take care of the older couple. A boisterous foursome came in next, followed by a group of girlfriends looking to catch up over drinks and dinner. By the time I got back to check on Travis, he had finished his cocktail and was halfway through his steak. A thin stack of paper sat at the empty place setting across from him, with NONDISCLOSURE AGREEMENT centered at the top in boldface type. “I was going to ask if I could get you anything else, but it looks like you’ve brought something for me instead.”

  Travis crossed his knife and fork on his plate and steepled his fingers. “It’s just a standard agreement. I’ll need your signature before we can move forward.”

  I reached for the document. “I’d like to read it first.”

  “Of course.” Travis wiped his mouth with the linen napkin and pushed back his chair. “My steak was excellent. I’ll be back tomorrow, and I expect you will have had ample time to review the contract by then.”

  Shane

  I fucked around most of the day, keeping busy doing a whole lot of nothing much. Busy enough to convince myself that I didn’t have time to call and cancel this afternoon’s meeting with Delaney. Despite my reservations, I wanted her to sign Travis’s gag order, wanted her to come on tour with me.

  Which was exactly what I’d told Travis on my way back to Malibu last night, still amped up from my confrontation with the drunken fool who’d been about to get behind the wheel of his car. I’d made some fucked-up decisions in my life, but only one of them had led to a funeral.

  If I’d been drunk that long-ago night, if I’d had any alcohol at all, I would have stuck around, let the lynch mob have their way. But I’d know how it looked, so I took off, selfishly saving myself.

  And now I was here. Living in the shadow of a mountain made of regrets.

  I couldn’t let that jerkoff ruin his life, or anyone else’s. Tragedy was a greedy motherfucker—it never contained itself to those who deserved it.

  Then there was the matter of the door Delaney had slammed in my face. I would have given anything to be on the other side of it right now, working through the jumble of emotions last night had stirred up in me. Preferably in her bed, although anywhere would have been fine. Couch, kitchen counter, wall, floor, tub. So long as her smooth legs were wrapped around me, pulling me close, letting me breathe in all her delicious sweetness. Creamy skin and glossy hair. Pink lips and lush curves.

  I should have slept on it. Given my brain a chance to tell my dick to shut the fuck up. Because that’s the head that talked to Travis.

  It was wrong. So wrong to even consider taking Delaney on the road. But I’d spent every minute since she stormed away from me longing for another glimpse of those eyes of hers—a roiling jumble of blue and green that could make the Caribbean sea jealous. I wanted to wrap myself in the guileless innocence she wore so well. I wanted to know why she hadn’t thrown herself at me like everyone else in this superficial, celebrity-obsessed town did.

  I wanted to know why she’d run away from me, looking almost panicked.

  Walking into Travis’s office, it was my turn to be scared. Scared that she would turn me down. More scared that she wouldn’t.

  Travis was right. I wanted Delaney to be my girl. But while I watched her on that shitty stage, singing my song, an overwhelming urge had risen from the depths of my soul. A hunger too loud to be ignored. I wanted…something more. Something real.

  I wanted Delaney to be real. Not a publicity stunt. Not a placeholder. And I wanted her to be mine.

  It was ridiculous, I knew. A pipe dream. As Shane Hawthorne, nothing about my life was genuine. But Delaney, she was real.

  Now I felt like I was sixteen, about to ask the cutest girl in class to be my date for prom. Not that I ever had the chance. I’d been long gone by the time my high school prom rolled around.

  Pulling up short, I nearly walked right back out the door, biting the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted blood. What the fuck was wrong with me? Did I have some sort of internal sonar that drew me toward the sweetest, most genuine souls out there, unable to resist corrupting them?

  “Mr. Hawthorne.” Travis’s assistant was making a beeline for me, and I groped for my rock-star smile, finding it just in time. “Ms. Fraser is already here. If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to the conference room now.”

  With a brusque nod, I pushed off the wall that had been holding me up and followed her sure-footed steps toward a woman, if I had any mercy at all, I should leave the fuck alone.

  But then the door opened and I saw that shiny mess of dark hair, wayward tendrils sliding against pale, sculpted cheekbones. Curiosity shone from Delaney’s eyes, as if she’d come for answers and expected me to have them.

  Answers? Beneath the weight of her stare, I didn’t even know my own name.

  I turned back, pretending to close the door Travis’s assistant was pulling at from the other side, needing a minute to get my shit together. It felt like it had been scattered to every corner of the earth, but I found my center right as the door clicked closed. You don’t have to be yourself; just be Shane.

  And suddenly, he was back. Self-assured, cocky. Full of my-shit-doesn’t-stink bravado, Shane Hawthorne pushed his shoulders back and grinned. “Hello, Delaney.”

  Chapter Five

  Delaney

  Although I looked for any excuse not to sign, I couldn’t find one. As Travis explained, the nondisclosure agreement was basically identical to several I found online, and he was right about something else, too. I was tired of hiding, tired of wallowing in the past and pretending I didn’t have a future. I wanted to do something with my life. And I was tired of trying to convince myself that Shane Hawthorne was the devil. I’d seen him do more good in three minutes than I’d done in three years.

  So now I was in Beverly Hills, sitting in an elegantly appointed conference room with sweeping city views.

  Waiting for my future to begin.

  Waiting for Shane Hawthorne.

  Ten minutes later, he swept into the room. Shane’s rich brown hair was tousled, his jeans perfectly snug. His lips just as kissable as they’d been the other night. Damn him.

  “Hello, Delaney.” Even a simple greeting coming from the rock god could be the sexy start to a swoon-worthy ballad.

  A tingle raced up the length of my spine, my stomach executing a flip worthy of an Olympic gold medal. “Hello,” I croaked, unable to look away from Shane’s confident swagger as he came toward me. His feet stopped just inches from mine, my head tilting backward until it touched the edge of the chair, heart thudding against my rib cage as if trying to escape.

  Rather than take a seat on the other side of the table, Shane pulled out the chair to my right, his left thigh nudging mine as he sat down. “I’m glad you came.” Dimple flashing, Shane leaned forward and reached out to lightly stroke the narrowest part of my arm, just before it tapered to my wrist. “I wasn’t sure you would.”

  Time stood still as I watched his thumb leave a trail of goose bumps in its wake. My skin thrilled at his touch, a shiver of desire sending every nerve into overdrive. My employer shouldn’t be touching me like this…

>   I wrenched my gaze away from the sight of Shane’s long, elegant fingers and met his eyes. They had smoldered from album covers, music videos, and countless TV appearances, but his amber stare was infinitely more intense in person. Now they were turned on me. And I was melting. “Me neither,” I answered honestly, a knot of pure lust heating the blood racing through my veins. Did Shane Hawthorne have this kind of effect on everyone? It didn’t help that he was looking at me as if he wanted to make a meal out of me, devour me whole until I was just another part of the Shane Hawthorne mystique.

  And in that moment, I was tempted. By his face, by his body, by his voice. But most of all, by the part of Shane he didn’t even know I’d seen.

  Not just tempted. Terrified. Because I’d never gone for guys like Shane. With or without a microphone, Shane Hawthorne was a walking advertisement for heartbreak on two legs. But those legs. His jeans did nothing to hide the muscles corded beneath midnight-blue denim. Hard and powerful, they made all sorts of promises about what a ride it would be.

  At least until I was dumped at the side of the road, gutted.

  I licked my lips, the taste of my peach lip gloss oddly jarring. What would Shane Hawthorne taste like?

  Shane’s mouth moved, and I struggled to focus on his words. “I already have an assistant.”

  My heart plummeted. Did he call me in here just to tell me he didn’t want me, after all? I had walked away from Shane twice. Was this his way of having the last word? Could he be that cruel? I studied the hard line of his jaw, a scar marking the indent where it met his neck. Yes. Yes, he could. I should have been relieved. Grateful, even. But I wasn’t. Disappointment lanced through my lungs. “Oh.”

  But instead of getting up, walking out of the room, out of my life, Shane kept talking. I leaned forward in my chair, embarrassingly eager for every word. “But I need you on my team. Compensation will be as Travis explained, although our relationship will be a bit more…personal. I’d like to hire you. As my girlfriend.”

  My breath hitched in the back of my throat as I glanced nervously toward the door. Shane Hawthorne wanted me, Delaney Fraser, to be his girlfriend? Something told me I should make a break for it, leave now before he reduced my world to rubble. But I didn’t. I stayed put, waiting for him to supply more details. Waiting for Shane to redefine my world, because as far as I knew, relationships didn’t require conference rooms and contracts.

  “I’m sure you’ve seen the gossip rags. I’m no choir boy. But I’m not looking for drama, Delaney. When I’m on the road, fans and groupies are constantly trying to sneak their way into my dressing rooms, hotel rooms, even onto the tour bus and private planes. The best way to discourage them is by having a beautiful woman by my side. I want that woman to be you.”

  I tilted my head to the side, something telling me I should read between the lines, but I didn’t even understand where the lines were. “Me?”

  A rumble erupted from deep in Shane’s chest. Dear God, his laugh was even sexier than his voice. “Yes, you.” He widened his thighs, pulling my chair closer and drawing my knees between his legs.

  As if in slow motion, I watched his hand coming toward me, a shiver of pleasure rolling down my spine as it curved around the back of my neck, his fingers blazing a path into my hair as he leaned forward. Then all I felt was Shane’s full lips descending on my own, his mouth brushing against mine in a whisper-soft caress. But he pulled back too quickly, leaving me wanting more. My eyes fluttered open, absorbing the impact of his provocative grin like a kick to the solar plexus.

  This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.

  And then it happened again. Shane pressed harder this time, swallowing my breath as his tongue pushed into my mouth.

  Shane Hawthorne tasted like spearmint and something headier, muskier…liquid testosterone maybe.

  When he broke away, he took my soft groan of protest with him. One taste of heaven wasn’t nearly enough. “So, what do you think, Delaney—will you be my girlfriend?” Shane looked at me as if asking me to share his life was the most natural thing in the world.

  Swallowing the want surging up my chest, filling my lungs, clawing at my throat, I managed a quiet whisper. “I think it’s a bad idea.”

  Shane hooked a thumb beneath my chin, holding me still as his needy gaze scanned every inch of my face. “But it feels so good bein’ bad.”

  He clearly didn’t know the first thing about me. All my life I’d been a good girl. Coloring between the lines, following the rules. Until one night, I slipped up. Put my own needs and wants ahead of anyone else’s, without considering the consequences. I learned a painful lesson. Being bad came at too high of a cost.

  “Be bad with me, Delaney.” His words ghosted across my lips, and I opened my mouth, breathing them in. I felt myself yielding to Shane’s persistence, succumbing to the strength of my own desires.

  The pull I felt toward Shane was a stronger lure than the money Travis had offered. But I was entirely wrong for the job. If they only knew what a mess I’d made of my life, they would never hire me to maintain order in Shane’s.

  Shane said he wasn’t looking for drama. Of course—because he didn’t need to. Drama found him. And now he wanted to bring me into the center of the storm. His storm.

  Electricity buzzed between us, the air still and sharp. Every glimpse of Shane, every taste of him, sent my body and soul plunging into chaos. And with him so close, every breath sent a shower of sparks racing along my skin.

  The connection between us…it was volatile. Hazardous.

  I was powerless to resist it.

  As his lips twitched, I found my voice. “I saw you.” It was only a whisper, but it was enough.

  “’Course you see me,” Shane said, his voice light and teasing. “I’m right here.”

  “No. I mean the other night, outside my apartment. After I went upstairs.” His eyes narrowed, the easygoing expression in them disappearing like sunlight behind blackout curtains.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But he did. I knew he did.

  Liars recognize each other, in the same way a magician is rarely fooled by another’s tricks. And we were liars. Shane knew exactly what I was talking about. He just didn’t want to admit it. I felt a nervous flutter in my stomach, realizing I’d invaded his privacy by spying on him. I wasn’t going to press him on it, but even if I wanted to, I didn’t have the chance because the door behind Shane’s chair suddenly flew open.

  Travis strutted into the room, the door hissing shut. “Just a few more details.” He dropped a sheaf of papers on the table in front of me. “There’s more to being Shane Hawthorne’s girlfriend than just smiling pretty for the paparazzi.”

  I tore my eyes from Shane’s and reached for the document. I began to read, Travis and Shane becoming almost invisible as the words whispered, then shouted at me. Each line tearing at the superhero cape I’d foolishly believed Shane was hiding.

  Shane Hawthorne was no hero.

  When I finally looked up, Shane had vanished, along with any possibility he was worth falling for. “Is this a joke?”

  Shane

  Had Delaney really seen what I’d done? Shit. Like a gambler’s tell, my actions gave away a part of me that I wanted to keep hidden. Needed to keep hidden.

  Shane Hawthorne lived life with zero fucks, damn it. He was every inch the cocky, confident rock star. He wasn’t some bleeding-heart do-gooder.

  For fuck’s sake—you are Shane. Pull your shit together and act like it.

  Other than charity concerts, all my philanthropic efforts were done through a dummy corporation I’d had Travis set up. No one needed to know what issues mattered to me, using them to see inside my head. Or worse, into my past.

  Despite my internal pep talk, the frown twisting Delaney’s brow pulled at my conscience. Angry lines slashed across her forehead as she turned the page, raven strands quivering against her shoulders as she scanned each sentence. I wanted to wrap my hands aroun
d her tiny waist and pull her into my embrace.

  More than that, I wanted to soothe away her inner storm and put all that enraged passion to good use.

  Just moments ago, Delaney’s lips had softened beneath mine, and I’d swallowed her sigh as if it were a lifesaving drug. For me, maybe it was. Maybe there was someone on this earth who could save me. Then again, maybe there was a Santa Claus, too.

  I needed to get out of here.

  Rather than face more questions, or Delaney’s turbulent reaction, I unfolded myself from the chair and quietly left the room. Because if I stayed, I might just let her walk away from me again, from everything I wanted from her. And I wasn’t willing to do that. Not anymore. The thought of Delaney being with anyone else was ripping me to shreds.

  No, I would leave, let Travis do what he did best. He would smooth things over, like he always did. That’s why I kept him on my payroll. When we first met years ago, he’d been a lawyer who was just starting to represent a few bands and B-level actors. He’d promised to make my life easier, to take all the time-sucking minutiae off my plate so I could concentrate on making music and performing in front of increasingly larger audiences.

  Most agents didn’t hire fake girlfriends for their clients, but Travis did, and so much more. His client list was more exclusive now—A-list only—and he was insanely expensive. But I could easily afford his rates, and Travis was worth every penny. He’d work his magic, and Delaney Fraser would become Shane Hawthorne’s newest girlfriend.

  Recalling the flush that crept up her collarbone whenever we touched, I was looking forward to exploring all the parts of her I hadn’t yet seen.

  That wasn’t part of the contract, of course. But damn, how long could Delaney resist the inevitable?