“Did your friend not tell you that we’ll be having a close working relationship? There will be a lot of hype when I record my first album, and I’m going to have input in the songs.” She was not about to let yet another man block her from her dreams. The whole point of switching genres was to write her own songs.
“Christopher might have mentioned that, but I’m more worried about the contract that I signed. It says nothing about us working closely together. I’m sorry, Princess, but you just wasted your miles for nothing.” He grabbed her luggage and tossed it out the door. “Thanks for stopping by.”
“Are you insane?” she yelled. “That’s a Gucci bag!”
“I don’t care. Relax, darling. I’m good at what I do. I promise that I’ll write you something that will make you an even more insane amount of money. You can buy as many Gucci bags as you like. In New York.” Before she could protest, he grabbed her arms and pulled her up against his body. “Now, if you had something else in mind for this visit, maybe we actually have something to talk about.”
Pressed against him, Addilyn settled her hands on his chest. His skin was warm and smooth. As his muscles rippled under her touch, desire shot through her body and she aches to taste him. He took a step forward, forcing her back. “What do you say, Princess? Want to see if I can figure out how to make you sing?”
His hands slid down her body, and she stepped back in a panic. How could a man that she barely knows manage to steal away her very breath, to take back all of her control? “If you think that I’m so easily distracted, Mr. Hardy, you couldn’t be more wrong. I am not here to be your plaything.”
“Too bad. Still, I figured that much. You’re too uptight for me anyway.” It wasn’t until he grinned that she’d realized he’d maneuvered her right out of his house. With an amused smile, he slammed the door and left her alone on the front porch.
Shaking with anger, Addilyn pulled out her phone and called Gia. “Kade Hardy is an arrogant, chauvinistic, pig-headed asshole!” she growled.
There was a second of stunned silence. “He does have a bit of a reputation,” her assistant said finally. “Did he hit on you?”
“Not because he wanted to sleep with me, but because he wanted to manipulate me,” she growled. “What do you mean, reputation?”
“He’s a playboy. He seduces singers, decorates their arms for award shows, and then moves on. He’s talented and successful, but he likes the power. I’d be careful with him.”
“There’s not need to be careful,” Addilyn retorted. “He barely let me in the house. Which he claims to share with a daughter, though I’m not so inclined to believe him. He practically seduced me right here at the front door. I’m calling a taxi, and I need you to get me a flight back to New York.”
“What are you going to do?”
Addilyn bit her lower lip. “He may have signed a contract, but I have not. I’m so tired of people thinking they can walk all over me. Kade’s about to discover that how much power I have.”
Gia groaned. “Addilyn, you have a reputation to protect.”
“Haven’t you heard? I’m going country now.” Hanging up, Addilyn looked over her shoulder and smiled coldly. Kade Hardy was going to learn the hard way that kitten had more than claws.
Chapter 4
Kade sat at his desk and stared at the blank notebook. The words weren't flowing. The music wasn't coming to him. Every time he tried to focus on the woman who'd be singing, he lost all focus. Tapping his pencil idly on the wood, he practically growled at himself. He hated having to put aside his own latest project to do the work for others, but that was his business and the name of the game. You didn’t always get to work on your own songs, and the one he had burning inside him was sure to be special. He was writing it for Cadence.
The idea had come to him months ago, and he’d been fleshing it out in his mind ever since, but now he was struggling to get anything out.
This didn't happen to him. Sure, sometimes he felt a creative block, but it was mostly because he was overworked. He never let a woman come between him and his work, and he'd be damned if he let Addilyn Wheeler be the first.
America Holden. He needed to remind himself that this was a pop princess. She grew up in life with every opportunity, and now she had everything that she ever wanted.
He wasn't going to let her take this contract away from him. Not when he'd fought every step of the way to get here. He had the scars to prove it.
The phone rang, and he glanced down at it with a sigh. Christopher. No doubt his friend was checking up on him and his progress. Weeks had passed, and he had nothing to show for it. Pushing the phone away, he got up and started to pace.
Addilyn had called him nearly every day. She left voicemails. She sent emails. She continued to threaten him if he didn't let her in on the process, but she just didn't get it. She was taking a huge risk by switching genres, and if his name was attached to that kind of failure, it could be the end for him. There was too much pressure to let her upset the balance, but the more she called, the less he was able to work.
The phone rang again. Picking it up, he practically snarled in the phone. "What do you want, Christopher?"
"Where are you?" His friend's voice was clipped.
"What do you mean? I'm in Nashville."
"Not anymore," Christopher snapped. "You have a flight in three hours to New York, and so help me God, Kade, you better be on it."
"Excuse me? I am in the middle of a contract, Christopher. I don't have time to meet with anyone else."
"You're not meeting someone else. You have a meeting with Peter, and if you're not there, you may not be meeting with anyone except coffee house singers with big dreams and little town."
Kade's head jerked up. "Peter Homes wants to meet? I have nothing to show him."
"Did you really kick Addilyn Wheeler out of your house when she showed up to help?"
Groaning, Kade ran his hands over the rough scruff of his chin. "She showed up unannounced, Christopher. I have a family for heaven’s sake. She doesn't just want to collaborate. She thinks I'm tutoring her on songwriting. That's not the contract that I signed."
"Damn it, Kade." Christopher sighed. "Just make sure you're on the plane. I'm going to see if I can do some damage control. I'll send you an email while you're in the air, and you better do everything that I say."
"What do you mean? Am I going to lose this contract?"
"Don't be late."
The fact that Christopher didn't try to reassure him worried him. His friend always had his back, but Peter Homes was a powerful man.
And Addilyn Wheeler was his biggest star.
Swearing loudly, Kade went to pack.
Four hours later, he sat next to Christopher in Peter's waiting room. "Did you get my email?" he whispered.
Kade had gotten Peter's email, but he wasn't happy about it. Grunting in response, he kept his eyes trained on the glimpses of people that he could see through the blinds. He'd recognize those golden strands of hair anywhere.
Addilyn Wheeler.
"Kade, you need to control your temper if you want to keep this contract."
"Christopher--"
"This is a big deal for me, too. Managing a contract between a producer like Homes and one of my songwriters is huge."
"I know that," Kade hissed. "You're making me even more stressed, so relax. I promise to behave myself."
The door to Peter's office suddenly opened, and the man waved them in impatiently. He scowled at Kade. "Let's get this over with. I have more important things to do today."
Addilyn rose in one fluid motion and held her hand out to Christopher. "Mr. Park, it's nice to see you again."
"You as well."
Kade couldn't help but feel a little irritated when that warm smile cooled considerably as her eyes landed on him. "Mr. Kade," she said icily.
"Ms. Holden." He used her stage name deliberately and was rewarded with a tight smile. Christopher cleared his throat and glared at h
im as he took his seat. Kade shook Peter's hand and took a seat. He saw Addilyn open her mouth to speak and quickly interrupted. "Mr. Homes, Ms. Wheeler, I must apologize for my actions in Nashville. I had no idea that Addilyn wanted such a hands-on experience. Most artists, especially artists new to a genre, understand that it's better to let me get a few songs written before they jump in. I'm always happy to hear some ideas, but it's not until we start working on those first few songs that I really get a sense as to what the artist wants."
Christopher narrowed his eyes, but he backed him up. "Kade is very private and reclusive during the first couple of months of a project. I've made the mistake of interrupting him. I think what we need to discuss today is how involved Ms. Wheeler wants to be."
"Completely involved," Addilyn said quickly. "The whole point of this switch was to give me a chance to be more involved in the songwriting process."
"Then why did you hire me?" he asked dryly.
"Enough," Peter snapped. "I would like to remind you both that this is a tricky situation and we all have reputations and money on the line. Mr. Hardy, we hired you because Christopher tells us that you're the best, and Addilyn, you know nothing about writing songs. This is your chance to learn. The two of you need to figure out how to cooperate. I've already started promoting Addilyn’s switch to country, and all eyes are going to be on this new album. I will not have it fucked up because you two can't get along. Figure it out."
He stood and opened the door. It was clear that the conversation was over. "Christopher, I still need a few minutes with you. Addilyn, I suggest you and Mr. Hardy figure out some kind of arrangement before he gets on his plane back to Nashville."
The pop star barely met his gaze as she stood and marched out of the office. Kade nodded to the gentlemen and followed behind. She angrily hit the elevator button and glared at him. "If you had just answered one of my many phone calls or emails, we wouldn't be in this situation."
"If you'd let me do my job, we wouldn't be in this situation," he muttered. "C'mon Princess, I am the best man for the job. Just relax. I'm not the sensitive writer type. If you don't like my songs, then we go back to the drawing board."
"Don't call me Princess." The door opened, and she stalked inside. Before joining her, Kade took a moment to admire the way her legs looked in those heels. She really did have a fabulous body. "And I'm tired of people trying to control me. Just once, I want to have a say in the music that I sing. It's my face, and it's my voice. You were the one who said that country was all about emotion. These songs should come from me."
He sighed. He could understand her frustrations, but that didn't mean he was about to bend to her will. "That's just not how I work."
"Tough. You will answer when I call, and you will listen to my ideas, or I'll find someone who will."
The doors opened, and she pulled out her sunglasses and marched into the lobby. Despite his anger, he couldn’t help but admire her resolve. It was a temper tantrum, but he could see where she was coming from.
A slow smile crossed his face. If she wanted to work so closely with him, maybe he should make sure that she got her wish.
Her every longing desire.
Chapter 5
When Addilyn went out to get her mail, she was surprised to see a pickup truck kicking up dust along the private dirt road leading to her house. Annoyed that yet another reporter had found their way to her hideaway, she considered heading back inside and pulling the blinds, but that rarely worked out in her favor. No, it was best to give them a dazzling smile, answer their questions, and let them snap a few pictures. Instead of her normal dresses, she wore a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, but she wasn't worried. The press loved the down-to-earth look.
When the truck stopped, and the door opened, her breath caught in her throat. It wasn't a reporter stepping out but Kade Hardy. Pleased at the reversed roles, she couldn't help but smile smugly at him. What was it that he said to her when she showed up at his doorstep? "They don’t usually send me something so rough looking, but I’m sure I’ll find something useful about you beneath that flannel?"
"Sweetheart, I'll be more than happy to show you what's under my flannel. All you've got to do is ask." He swung a duffel bag over his shoulder and grabbed a guitar case.
"What are you doing here, Kade?"
"Oh, I think you know. You threw so much of a temper tantrum last week that I was given an ultimatum. Work with you or kiss the contract goodbye, and while I was very tempted to tell them where they can shove their contract, I have people that are counting on me."
"How noble of you," she said dryly. "Who gave you this address?"
"Peter Homes."
Damn him. He knew that this was her sanctuary. She rarely had people over here. Short of her family and close friends, only Gia was allowed. "I'd prefer to work at your place," she said shortly. "Or at my condo."
"I can't think in the middle of the city, and I didn't fly all the way up here just to turn around and fly all the way back. Besides, I have a child at home. I don’t want to put her out with any unwelcome houseguests. What's wrong, sugar? You don't think your small mansion here is big enough for the both of us?"
Addilyn hesitated. She didn't really want to tell him how special this place was to her. She didn't want to give him any kind of leverage to hold over her later in life. Instead, she just spun on her heels and headed back to the house. Looking over her shoulder, she gave him her most dazzling smile. "Are you coming?"
Was that a glimmer of a genuine smile on his face? It was hard to be sure because as soon as she saw it, it was gone. Closing the door behind him, she tried not to stare at the way his thighs and ass fitted in those jeans. "I've got a couple of guestrooms for you to choose from. They might be a little dusty, and you should probably check for spiders."
"What a gracious hostess," he pointed out dryly.
Shrugging she just pointed up the stairs. "I was about to make some lunch. Hungry?"
Peering past her shoulder into the kitchen, he raised his eyebrow. "The great America Holden makes her own lunch? No personal chef?"
"Don't worry. I can probably handle a sandwich, and I'll try not to poison you until I can see proof of your talents."
He muttered something about showing her his talent as he walked up the stairs, and she remembered the way his body felt pressed up against hers. Biting her tongue, she tried to push the feeling away as she headed back to the kitchen.
The kitchen had a large and heavy wooden farm table that could seat up to ten people. It would feel too strange dining on that table with just Kade, so she instead brought the sandwiches and a couple of beers into the living room. Like she used to do as a kid, she sat on the floor and leaned against the couch.
He returned with his guitar in his hand. With a raised eyebrow, he stopped in the doorway and stared at her. "Is this some ritual of yours?"
"What? No." Embarrassment burned her cheeks. She hadn't thought about how it might look. "Just a habit, I guess. The only time my grandmother let me watch television was during mealtime, and that was just because she wanted to watch her game shows. Even as a teenager, I used to sit on the floor and face the television."
"This is your grandmother's place?" Kade slowly folded himself between the table and sofa. "Lucky."
"When she passed, my mother had no interest in it, so I sort of took it over. I need to get away from the city, and this place has always been special to me. I don't usually have visitors. I don't even think the press know about this place."
"You also haven't done much remodeling. My room has this awful wallpaper with faded pink flowers all over it. I gather the room with the gorgeous four-poster bed is yours?" He bit into the sandwich and studied her.
"You were in my bedroom?" she asked crossly. At least he chose the room the furthest from hers, but it made her uncomfortable to think of him in her space. The trust was that she'd never had a man here, let alone one in her bedroom.
Kade shrugged. "You told me to pick a roo
m. You didn't specify which one was yours, but you quit looking so terrified. I'm here to work, not to seduce you."
"You have a reputation," she pointed out.
A wicked smile crossed his face. "Yeah? Any of your friends talking about me?"
Irritated, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I just mean that you have a reputation of sleeping with the artists that you write for."
"And thanks to the little shit storm that you kicked up, you're not just a singer. You apparently fancy yourself a songwriter, and I don't sleep with people that I work with. I don't get it. You've got a great career as a pop singer. Why are you trying to throw all that away?"
Addilyn sighed and pushed the plate aside. "It's not my idea. I think Peter is afraid that I'm getting too old in the business. He didn't give me a choice, but in the end, it worked out for me. I've been trying for years to write my own songs, and he's not stupid. It wouldn't be that hard for me to find another producer, so this way we both get what we want. I get to write songs, and he gets to try his hand at country music."
"Country music…"
She immediately put up her hand to stop him. "Before you attempt to insult me yet again by insinuating that I don't have much emotional depth, I'd like to remind you that you know nothing about me."
"There's not much difference between pop stars," he said easily as he polished off his sandwich. "Although you're the first to make me a sandwich. A few have poured me cereal the morning after and tried to call it breakfast."
"And once again we're back to talking about your conquests," she muttered as she rolled her eyes. Getting up, she cleared the table and dumped the plates in the dishwasher. When she went back to the living room, he'd already pulled his guitar out.
Without glancing up, he playfully strummed the strings. "I listened to a few of your songs on the way over here, but there's so much autotune that it's hard to get a real sense of what you sound like. I wanted to hear your voice first."
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