Sex, Gossip and Rock & Roll

by Nicola Marsh

  That sounded like Luca: mindful of the one person who’d given him a start in life yet not wanting to get too close.

  ‘I wish things could be different.’

  Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she said, ‘Have you told him that?’

  Hector pinched the bridge of his nose, looking every inch his seventy-plus years.

  ‘Not really. We’re both as bad as each other, skirting around the important stuff.’

  He rubbed at the weary frown between his brows. ‘Rad treated that boy appallingly and I wanted to make up for it. But …’

  She knew what he was going to say. ‘But by then it was too late.’ Luca had already erected his emotional barriers, had learned to trust no one.

  Her heart ached for the impressionable boy he must’ve been, a boy who had to watch his mother throw away her life over a man who didn’t love her, a boy who had to endure his father rejecting him many times over, a boy who was too scared, too emotionally bruised, to trust any overture from a grandfather he was too scared to get to know.

  ‘Luca cares about you. He wouldn’t be here other wise.’

  His face softened as he patted her hand where it lay on the desk, gripping the mouse.

  ‘I hope so. You can’t blame an old man for getting sentimental in his dotage and wishing things were different.’

  Charli wanted to offer him platitudes. She wanted to say that Luca did care, that in helping his grandfather out of a tight spot he might be opening the door to a closer relationship.

  Instead, she kept her mouth shut, for while she hoped those things were true how well did she really know Luca? She’d thought she was starting to, then he’d slammed up that invisible wall after they had sex—a wall she’d wanted and actively encouraged yet that didn’t make it any easier—and it had left her wondering ever since.

  ‘I’ll let you get back to work. Just because our resident ornery star behaved himself on the first leg of the tour, doesn’t mean he won’t throw a tantrum if the rest isn’t perfectly scheduled.’

  ‘Good point.’

  Hector paused at the door, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepening with mischief.

  ‘Getting to know my grandson is worth the effort. Give him a chance.’

  Speechless, she ducked behind her PC screen, not wanting him to see yet another incriminating blush.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHARLI stiffened as her mobile rang. She didn’t have to glance at caller ID to know who it was. In fact, she’d expected Luca to call sooner, around the time she’d run out of the café in Echuca without looking back.

  Though she’d mentally rehearsed a hundred responses, every single one deserted her as she flipped the phone from hand to hand like a hot potato.

  She had to stay firm on her decision to keep things strictly professional between them. He’d be sticking around Landry Records for the next week, seeing this tour through to the end, which meant she’d be seeing him daily, bearing the brunt of his potent charm.

  Steadying her resolve to distance herself, she pressed the answer button with a shaky thumb.

  ‘Hey, Luca.’

  ‘If it isn’t the great Houdini.’

  Glad he could see humour in the situation, she clenched the phone to her ear.

  ‘It wasn’t so much a disappearing act as a dash of mercy.’

  ‘For who?’

  ‘Me. Storm. We had a ton of tour stuff to go through and having his uninterrupted attention for more than five minutes was too good an opportunity to pass up.’

  His loaded silence didn’t bode well.

  ‘Dedication I can understand. Ditching me to be holed up in Storm’s tour bus, again, for three hours? Confusing the hell out of me.’

  ‘I told you, it was work—’

  ‘Cut the bull.’

  His exasperated huff sliced through the taut silence. ‘I thought we’d dealt with what happened in Bendigo.’

  She froze, her blood chill and sluggish as it slithered through her veins. She didn’t want to discuss this, didn’t want him probing for answers she wasn’t willing to give. Besides, she knew if he ever found out she was in deeper than he thought it wouldn’t just affect their working relationship over the next week, it might affect his relationship with Hector too.

  And how happy would her boss be if she ran off his grandson before they’d got to spend more time together, as he obviously craved?

  ‘Look, things happened so quickly between us I just felt out of control. Like I was sucked up in a vortex and thrown around.’

  She stopped toying with a pen and flung it on the desk, knowing she’d have to give him some semblance of the truth before she blew it completely.

  ‘I just needed some down time and a three-hour car ride together would’ve been too—too—’

  ‘Cosy?’

  ‘Claustrophobic is the word I was looking for.’

  He tsk-tsked. ‘Charli, Charli, Charli, when are you going to admit it?’

  ‘Admit what?’

  ‘That you’re crazy about me.’

  She snorted. ‘Like the rest of the world’s female population?’

  ‘Jealous?’

  ‘What do you think?’

  He paused and longing shimmied through her. She was crazy about him, on the verge of making a catastrophic mistake and falling head over heels in love if she lost her battle with herself.

  But she couldn’t do it. She wasn’t her mum and she’d be damned if she was foolish enough to hand her heart to a footloose, fancy-free playboy who’d squash it completely when he headed back to his jet-set life.

  ‘I get it. Things happened pretty fast between us. You’re scared. Not that I blame you.’

  He cleared his throat, his nervousness surprising her. ‘I’m a flake, Charli. I’ll woo you and charm you and you’ll have the time of your life but I can’t make any promises.’

  ‘I know,’ she murmured, horrified when her breath caught and it sounded like a stifled sob.

  A strange sound filtered through the phone, as if he was twirling a pen in his fingers and tapping it against a desk; couldn’t be, for that would mean he was as anxious as she was.

  Throw in the fact she’d never heard that serious undertone in his voice let alone seen the confident charmer be anything less than assured and she knew his edginess matched hers.

  ‘But you intrigue me, you captivate me, you make me want to slay dragons and dig with my bare hands to find you the biggest gold nugget on the planet.’

  He paused, dragged in a breath that sounded as ragged as hers. ‘I know this sounds crazy because I’m gone in a week and things are super awkward between us at the moment but do you want to go for broke? See this through to the end?’

  Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them back. He’d been so brutally honest whereas she hid behind half-truths and fear. That constant, ever-present fear that if she truly let go and depended on another person to be happy, she’d end up destitute.

  Not in the same way she’d once been, facing down sleazy pimps, drugged-out prostitutes and feral street kids as a teenager living on the streets, but emotionally destitute, and that would be far, far worse.

  ‘Charli?’

  Her heart twisted with regret as she swiped away the silent tears trickling down her cheeks.

  ‘Sorry, I can’t.’

  She hit the disconnect button, the mobile falling from her lifeless fingers as she knuckled her eyes, finally letting the soul-racking sobs come.

  * * *

  It had been the worst week of Charli’s life.

  Refusing to indulge in a wild, passionate, no-holds-barred fling with Luca had been the smartest thing she could’ve possibly done. And the most painful.

  Where work had once been her haven it was now a place of forced formalities and polite small-talk and pretending. They both tiptoed around each other, discussing work and little else, her rebuttal of Luca’s offer the elephant in the room every time they crossed paths.

  Every
minute of every day was pure, bam-boo-under-her-fingernails torture.

  While there was never any doubt she’d ever be anything than one-hundred-per-cent professional, seeing this tour through to the end had drained her to the point of exhaustion. During Storm’s down time, she’d accompanied him and his entourage to the small jazz bars dotting Melbourne’s laneways, to a vibrant Broadway stage show, to exquisite restaurants from lavish five-star French to tiny five-table Vietnamese cafés.

  They’d strolled along the boardwalk at Williamstown and sipped lattes on cake-heaven Acland Street, Storm and the band lapping up the new stardom a resurrected rock career brought while she stayed in the background, playing the diligent tour manager always on the lookout for trouble.

  And trouble she found, every single day, for Luca accompanied them on every outing, an ever-present reminder of what she wanted yet couldn’t have.

  Sure, he had a legitimate reason for being there, taking his role looking after the finances seriously but it was more than that and she knew it. He had another agenda. To slowly but surely drive her insane.

  Maybe he thought she’d crumble if he was in her face twenty-four-seven? Maybe he had full confidence she’d crack beneath the onslaught of his impressive charms?

  Okay, so she was being excessively harsh. Luca couldn’t help who he was—attractive, outgoing, charismatic—and in fairness to him, he hadn’t been flirting with her. In fact, he appeared to loathe their encounters as much as she did, discomfited by their gauche, inept conversations where before there’d been teasing and laughter and light.

  Whatever his motivation she couldn’t stand another minute of it and despite her rigid determination to hold him at bay, to try to eradicate that one incredible afternoon she’d spent in his arms from her memory, she couldn’t forget.

  She knew it was foolish, knew it with every resistant cell in her body but spending all her time with Luca, albeit on a professional level, had her feeling more alive than she’d ever been.

  Was this how her mum had felt with her guys? This all-consuming, overwhelming need to be with that person?

  Not that it excused Sharon’s appalling lack of maternal care but it went some way to explaining her horrid behaviour.

  How many times over the years had she watched her mum preen for some guy, watched her glow with excitement and blossom under a little male attention? And while she wasn’t that bad she knew deep down, in a place she’d deliberately shut off from Luca the moment she realised she was getting in over her head, she lapped up every bit of his attention the way her mum had with her suitors.

  With a groan, she glanced at her watch. Now wasn’t the time for self-analysis. Luca would be here soon and she had less than ten minutes to dress and put the finishing touches on her make-up.

  Officially, they were attending the Arias, Australia’s big music-industry awards, in support of Storm on a professional level.

  Unofficially, Luca had caught her at a weak moment and she’d agreed to let him pick her up despite wanting to ensure tonight was about work. Hector had been around when he’d asked how she was getting to the awards so she’d had no choice but to agree to his offer.

  But that was where it ended. The guy was leaving in two days and, while the Arias were always fabulously glamorous and had an after-party that had to be seen to be believed, she had to ensure Luca didn’t get the wrong idea about her letting him squire her along the red carpet.

  Slipping into the floor-length gold-se-quinned sheath and matching strappy sandals, she twirled in front of the mirror. Not bad. The side split to mid-thigh revealed a fair bit of leg and the bodice hugged her curves, giving the illusion of a bigger bust.

  A killer dress, to match her killer resolve.

  She couldn’t let Luca see how much she was looking forward to tonight, couldn’t let him see beneath her carefully controlled mask.

  Two more days … Not too hard to survive, surely?

  The doorbell rang and her tummy tumbled with nervous anticipation. Taking a deep breath to quell her nerves, she opened the door and her tummy dropped away again.

  She’d seen Luca Petrelli in casual denim, formal chic and, her personal favourite, naked. But Luca in a designer tux, his caramel curls slicked back, blue eyes dark with excitement, made her heart expand until she could barely breathe.

  ‘You’re stunning.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  He stood on the threshold, uncertain, his expression torn between wariness and hope.

  She didn’t want to encourage him, didn’t want to give him the wrong idea, but the fact this gorgeous, confident man almost squirmed under the weight of her rejection hit home hard and made her feel more than a tad guilty.

  Wanting to ease the tension, at least for tonight, she smiled, putting her heart and soul into it, and the result was a spectacular transformation that wiped the guardedness from his face and replaced it with cautious optimism.

  ‘Let’s just have fun tonight, okay?’

  Maybe she shouldn’t have said fun because he took hold of her hand, twirled her out before reeling her into his arms where he crushed her to him. Caught off guard, she stared at him, speechless, a second before his mouth claimed hers in a sizzling kiss that left her weak-kneed and shaky and breathless.

  When his lips finally eased off hers, she sagged against him, boneless, her hard-fought well-honed resolve in tatters.

  ‘Never thought I’d get a chance to do that again.’

  He kissed the soft skin behind her ear, a gentle, barely there brush of his lips that made her sway as she whimpered, a soft, needy sound betraying her solid stance of not falling further for him.

  When he raised his head, his glittering, passion-filled gaze implored her to acknowledge the heat between them.

  ‘I got the message loud and clear, you don’t want this, but it doesn’t make it any easier to resist you.’

  She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, her senses filled with his closeness, his heat, the thought she was irresistible to him as heady as his touch.

  She gasped as he slid his fingers under the dress’s slit, trailing a lazy fingertip along her thigh upwards.

  It would be so easy to give in, so easy to succumb. She knew what would happen, remembered in excruciatingly erotic detail what would follow if she forgot her reservations for one night, if she just let go.

  Her skin prickled, her body leaning towards him in yearning, desperate for his touch.

  So easy to lose herself in the moment …

  ‘I’ve tried, Charli, damn I’ve tried. But I want you. And I’m leaving. And this all got screwed up.’

  He held her at arm’s length, his stormy gaze reflecting the torture and confusion in hers.

  She wanted him too, but for more than just a hot goodbye, a quickie for old times’ sake. She wanted so much more than that and he couldn’t give it to her.

  Yet standing here, torn between giving in and fleeing, she wavered between following her head—telling her to run as fast as she could—and giving in to her heart, craving one last momentous, stupendous night with him before he left.

  From the first moment he’d opened his hotel-room door wearing a towel and a wicked smile she’d been drawn to him, tempted beyond belief. And in the past few minutes, when all it had taken was one scintillating kiss to undermine her resolve of the past week, she knew that for all her self-talk and self-control he still had the power to break her heart in a second.

  That was what settled her dilemma. Her head was right and her heart couldn’t stand breaking any more than it already was.

  ‘Tonight’s important to Hector. Let’s go.’

  The fire in his eyes faded and he released her, a cold shiver pebbling her skin with goose bumps at the sudden loss of his heat.

  ‘Always on the job, Charli?’

  ‘Always,’ she said, grabbing her evening bag and preceding him out of the door so he couldn’t see her stoic expression crumple.

  ‘Pop’s in his element.’ Charli follo
wed Luca’s subtle head jerk towards the dance floor. ‘Who knew the old guy could break a move or two?’

  She smiled and his world tilted slightly off kilter. He had the same gut reaction every time he caught a glimpse of one of her rare smiles these days, all too rare the past week. She’d been the epitome of the perfect tour manager: driven, dedicated, a dervish. He respected her work ethic but it had been a front, a very convenient front she’d hidden behind to keep him from getting too close.

  He should know, he’d done the same, maintaining a polite indifference until he thought he’d go nuts.

  Damn, her rejection had stung, more than he could’ve thought possible and that in itself was a major clue to how seriously out of his depth he was.

  He didn’t do emotions for a reason and this was it, this convoluted, befuddled confusion that scrambled his brains and made him crave something he couldn’t have until it was all he could think about.

  He knew it was pointless, wanting Charli this badly, for she’d pushed him away in no uncertain terms. And the kicker, it made sense. Why continue their fling, for that was all it could ever be, when he was out of here soon?

  Oh, yeah, it made perfect sense, them not rekindling the fire between them, but that didn’t make accepting it any easier.

  He’d hated catching her in an unguarded moment, glimpsing the chariness mingled with hurt in her eyes, her wounded expression making him shrivel a little more inside.

  She’d never recovered from the way he’d treated her after they’d had sex in Bendigo and, no matter how many times he rehashed it in his head, he knew he couldn’t have done it differently.

  Then too he’d been stung by her rejection and he’d reacted badly, throwing out that callous comment. He didn’t take kindly to rejection—yet another thing to thank dear old Dad for—and it messed with his head.

  Now he only had two days left before he flew back to London and, while he should be grateful to leave all this angst behind, he couldn’t stop this all-consuming, all-driving need to hold her in his arms one last time.

  A crazy, futile wish he had no intention of acting on yet it was there all the same, omnipresent, overwhelming, driving him nuts.