Serena's Song

by Raina James

  Finn took the magazine from her and started reading the short story that accompanied the photos. "That lying prick! You wanna say I beat the crap out of you, Dick? How about I really beat the crap out of you?!"

  Serena was having trouble following him. "You beat him up?"

  "No, I never beat him up! Christ." Finn threw the magazine down in disgust. "Dick says here I did. After I stole his girlfriend from him. That would be you."

  "What?!" Serena bent down and swiped the magazine off the floor. She scanned the story, her fury blazing hotter with each word. "I barely knew him! He was just some guy who worked at the gas station. That bastard! I'll sue his sorry, skinny little ass."

  "I've got a better idea." Finn grinned like a shark. "We'll get my lawyers to sue his skinny little ass. Oh, and I'm sure the cops have some fancy name for guys who sneak around on private property taking compromising pictures of private citizens, then making a profit off said pictures. Maybe it's not the first time he's taken nudies around Wolf Lake. Those photos look pretty good. I wonder if the cops might look into that, too."

  The thought of vengeance appealed, but not for long. Serena's smile fell away and she shook her head. "We still have to talk to the kids. This magazine is probably out on newsstands across the country by now. God, how humiliating!"

  She dropped her head in her hands and tiredly rubbed her fingers over the budding headache pressing through the centre of her forehead. Finn's fingers smoothing the tense muscles at her nape helped.

  "I know, Serena. I know. Let me call the cops. That way, they can get out here and clear the scavengers out as soon as possible. Then, why don't you call Jack and Katie while I pack up? I think it might be better if we get to them as soon as possible. I doubt the media will be able to track them down as long as they're not at home, but it might be a good idea to tell your in-laws to try to stay low."

  Serena lifted her head, new determination lighting her face. "Okay. Sounds like a plan."

  "Good." He took the cell phone off the tray, started to dial. Stopped. "Thanks, Serena."

  "For what?"

  "For not being scared off, or blaming me for this. Though, to be honest, this is all my fault. If it weren't for me—"

  A hard kiss on the lips silenced him. "Enough of that, Finn Logan. This is not your fault. You are just a very talented musician who has worked hard for everything he's ever gotten. You didn’t sell your soul, so why give the demons their due? You asked me to give you a chance. I said I would. Now it's time for you to give me a chance. You'd better believe I'm not going to abandon you at the first sign of trouble."

  She took his hand, lifted it to her lips and dropped a kiss in his palm.

  "We're in this together, Finn Logan. Together. And damn anyone who thinks they can get in our way. And as for those … reporters." She waved a dismissive hand to indicate the horde outside. "They want something to write about? Fine. I hope they choke on it."

  Finn picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles. "You're really something, Serena Jeffries. I almost feel sorry for them."

  "Well, don't. They deserve it."

  He laughed and hugged her tight. "Baby, I said almost. They won't know what hit them."

  Chapter 20

  Riff and Serena didn't watch the butt-kicking. They couldn't help but hear it, though.

  The police arrived en masse—three cruisers was an impressive turnout for tiny Wolf Lake—and proceeded to threaten arrests if the press didn't clear out of the yard pronto. There was some grumbling and loud complaints, but they went. Riff fully expected them to set up camp on the main road, the asphalt line that marked the end of private property and the start of public ground.

  He ached for Serena as he listened to her side of the conversation with first her in-laws, then her children. Thankfully, the kids hadn't seen the magazine yet. Unfortunately, it was only a matter of time.

  "Yes, Elizabeth, we'll definitely be talking to some lawyers. The photographer trespassed on private property. No, I doubt we can actually get them to pull the magazines from the stands." She looked at Riff, who grimaced. "No. It's too late to do much about it now, anyway. I'm sure the photos are on the internet."

  She sighed and sank deeper into the cushiony chair.

  "Finn and I are leaving in a while. No. You just stay where you are. We'll come to you. Yes, together. Look, Elizabeth, I'm sorry to be so abrupt, but can I talk to the kids? We can work out all the details later."

  Serena's voice, clipped and defensive with her mother-in-law, softened. "Hey, Katydid. How are you?" She made some "mother-listening" sounds, then said, "Honey, I don't know if you heard some of what I was telling Grandma—A bit, hmmm? Okay, well, you remember the picture of Finn and me that ran on the cover of that magazine? Well, someone took some pictures of us and it's, um—" A flush rose to stain her cheeks as she struggled to explain to her 13-year-old daughter what was on magazine covers now.

  Riff couldn't bear it. He stepped behind her chair and ran a comforting hand along her hair. Brushing away her fingers, he found the tense muscles in her neck and shoulders and started to work on them with long, deep strokes of his thumbs.

  "Hi, Jack." Serena said her son's name with both love and trepidation.

  "Honey, Finn and I are coming to Florida." A pause. "Well, not so good. Um, the press has gotten hold of some very … private pictures, the kind I'd much rather no one saw, much less you and Katie. I want you to know they're out there. I just … I just wanted to talk to you. We'll be there sometime tonight. I'm not sure what time. I'll call you when I have a better idea. Okay. Love you." Riff was glad to see the smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah, yeah. Funny guy. Bye."

  She disconnected and passed the phone back to him without a word.

  "That sounded like it didn't go too bad," he said.

  She shrugged. "I guess it could've gone a lot worse. But Finn, I really don’t want to have to do that again any time soon. Like never would suit me just fine."

  "I know. Me, too." He pressed his lips against the top of her head. "I guess I'd better get going on my own calls if we want to get out of here."

  "Okay. I'll make sure we've got everything."

  Serena got up and headed for the bathroom, while Riff took her place in the chair. He started to ignore the messages piled up in the cell phone's in-box, then reconsidered; better to be prepared if any more shit was about to hit the fan. Three calls were from Milo. They went from concerned to sub-panicked. Another tip, he said, about "explicit" photos. Then Dan had started calling. Apparently, when Milo had been unable to reach Riff he'd recruited his best buddy to the cause.

  Riff gave himself a mental gut-punch for forgetting the phone downstairs last night. If it had been upstairs, and he'd answered it, they would at least have known something was up. Granted, they couldn't have stopped the pictures from getting out there, but a bit of warning would have given them time to leave the cabin before the press descended.

  He had never been so furious in his life as when, still lying in bed upstairs, he'd heard the questions being shouted at Serena. And to imply her kids weren't her husband's! It wasn't just an attack on Serena's character, it was an attack on two innocent children. Driven by temper, he'd maintained just enough control to yank on some shorts before charging downstairs.

  As soon as he'd slammed the door, his first thought had been, "She's going to leave me." No way could he expect Serena to put up with this shit. Seeing her plastered all over some cheap rag like a backstage slut sent his temper into the stratosphere.

  Shamed by the selfish thought, however fleeting, he'd turned his attention to Serena. She'd been, understandably, shocked. Even someone used to the yellower side of "journalism" would have been stunned by the total invasion of such an intimate moment. And to have it thrust in her face like a sucker punch .…

  Leave it to Serena to do the unexpected. Instead of being scared off by the latest scandal, she only dug in deeper, determined not to be run off.

  He vowed to never mak
e her regret it.

  After his calls, Riff watched Serena move around the room, setting it to rights. Neither had brought much with them: It hadn't taken long to pack it up again. Yet there she was, straightening the bedclothes, plumping the pillows, making sure the door to the balcony was locked.

  He got up and followed when she headed back into the bathroom. Standing in the doorway, propping one shoulder on the doorjamb, he watched as she used a damp hand towel to quickly swab the bathtub and sink.

  "Serena, you don't have to clean up. Someone will come in and take care of everything."

  "I know. I just have to do something to stop myself from thinking—" She made a sound of pure fury. Balling up the towel, she chucked it into the tub. "That weasel! It turns my stomach to imagine him watching us. And taking pictures!"

  Riff went and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her back against his chest. He could feel her slight body practically vibrating with outrage. "I know, baby. I know."

  Gradually, Serena's shakes stilled until she leaned wearily against him and brought her arms up to cover his. They stood like that for a long moment, each taking comfort in the other's presence. Riff marveled again that she'd given him back the right to do this. He looked at the tiny, ornate clock on the bathroom counter and reluctantly released her.

  "We'd better go."

  Serena groaned but took his proffered hand and followed him into the bedroom, where he picked up both their bags and continued on downstairs.

  "I'm really not looking forward to running the gauntlet out there," she said.

  "Neither am I."

  Riff checked to make sure the bolt was thrown on the front door. A glance through the tiny window showed the rented Crossfire alone in the yard. Even the cops had cleared out.

  Satisfied, he turned back to find Serena watching him with a puzzled expression. He flashed her a "trust me" smile and led her through the living room and out the back door. He juggled the bags in his arms as he locked that door too before leaving the porch.

  Serena's curiosity got the better of her. "Where are we going?"

  "Haven't you heard the best way to throw a pack of hounds off the scent is by crossing water?"

  Refusing to elaborate, Riff ushered her down the trail to the beach. The sight that met them at the dock explained everything. A man was tying an impressive-looking white speedboat off at the end of the private pier. He'd apparently just arrived; the water around the boat, fanning out in a rippling circle of wavelets, slapped against the pilings. Seeing them leave the trees and walk onto the beach, the man lifted an arm in a friendly wave. Riff returned it, then grinned at Serena over his shoulder.

  His expression was eloquent of "pretty damn clever, aren't I?"

  "The boat will drop us off at the marina, where another rental car's waiting. From there, we'll drive to the airport and be in the air before the hounds realize the foxes have bugged out."

  For the first time since that reporter had shoved the explicit photo in her face this morning, Serena laughed. "You clever, clever man."

  Then, just because he was looking so smug, she gave his butt a hard smack. His head snapped around to pin her with a mock-glare. Serena gave him innocent eyes and batted her lashes.

  "Yes? Is there something I can do for you?"

  A wicked gleam lit his eyes as he gave her body a slow perusal. "I'll tell you later."

  Chapter 21

  The plane landed late, and it was after midnight by the time Finn and Serena were whisked through a private gate to a waiting car.

  At the hotel, they were shown to a two-bedroom suite the size of a small, sumptuous apartment. In any other hotel room, at any other time, she would have spent at least a few minutes checking out the digs—looking in the closets, eyeing the little soaps, opening drawers. Tonight, she resisted the urge. Not only did she suspect the kind of rooms Finn stayed in were several notches above the little-soap variety she was used to, but she was just beat. At this point, Finn could have checked them into a fleabag motel with an hourly rate and a chain on the TV, and she doubted she'd have noticed.

  She didn't have Finn's facility for falling asleep on planes, no matter how comfy the seats were. Besides, her mind had been too busy with planning the best way to handle the kids, her in-laws, her friends and neighbors to let her drift off too.

  She was still determined to stay with Finn, she was just … trying to work it all out in her mind. She'd always been an obsessive planner. Good for business, not always so good for personal planning. So while Finn had slept, she'd tried to come up with a game plan. Tried.

  With the tunnel vision of the tired, Serena made a beeline for the sofa and fell onto it, kicked off her shoes and propped her feet up on the coffee table. The sofa, flanked by a pair of color coordinated café chairs, was another key indicator this was not a strip motel on the shady side of town—it was actually as comfortable as it looked. She lay her head back on the cushion with a sigh and closed her eyes.

  "You know, I usually enjoy traveling," she said absently.

  "Do you want to call the kids and let them know we're here?"

  Something in Finn's voice made her open her eyes and sit up. After closing the door, he hadn't come any further into the room. Their small array of luggage was piled at his feet, looking lost on the wide expanse of plush, pristine carpet.

  At first glance, Finn looked casual, relaxed—save for the clenched fists hanging at his sides.

  "Finn, what's wrong?"

  "Nothing." As if realizing he was still standing by the door, Finn crossed the room to where several bottles were arranged on a cabinet. "Do you want something to drink?"

  "I'm okay, thanks."

  Silently, she watched as Finn toyed with the bottles, then opened the cabinet doors to reveal a mini fridge. He took out a bottle of water and twisted off the cap. Today, she'd seen him furious and annoyed, relieved and determined, happy and filled with anticipation. Now, he was noticeably uneasy. After everything that had happened, what could possibly be making him act this way? Once it hit her, she wondered why it hadn't occurred to her before.

  "Are you worried about meeting Jack and Katie?"

  "No." The answer was automatic and totally without conviction. Even Finn seemed to realize it. Grimacing, he admitted, "Yes."

  She held her hand out, silently asking him to join her on the couch. When Finn sat down, she tugged on his arm until he had it wrapped around her shoulders and she was tucked into his side. Satisfied by how well they fit together, she rubbed one hand over the tense muscles of his belly.

  "It'll be fine," she said.

  "Somehow, I don't think they'll be too thrilled to meet the guy responsible for getting X-rated pics of their mom splashed on magazine racks across the country."

  "They aren't too wild about that," she agreed. "But as I told you before, it's not your fault."

  He snorted his opinion of that.

  "Hey." She caught his face in her hands and forced him to look at her. "It's not. Now stop beating yourself up about it. You're going to tick me off."

  "Yes, Mom." He dropped a kiss on her forehead, then started resolutely, "So, about calling Jack and Katie—"

  "It's late. We'll call them in the morning. Nothing's going to change between now and then anyway."

  "Are you sure?"

  Serena smiled softly. "Yup. We'll see them first thing. Don't worry about it right now. Let tomorrow take care of itself."

  Reprieved! Riff was a bit chagrined at how relieved he was that he wouldn't have to face Serena's kids right now. How cowardly was that? Scared by a couple of teenagers. He couldn’t just ignore how important the meeting was, though. If Jack and Katie refused to accept him … No. Serena was right. He'd tackle that worry tomorrow.

  Right now, he wanted to focus on Serena. She looked tired. He traced the shadows under her eyes. Immediately, she shifted closer to him and tilted her face to give him better access. She was so responsive. She never shied away from letting him know exac
tly how much she enjoyed his touch. Not all those years ago, and certainly not now. She closed her eyes and sighed contentedly.

  Riff's fingers followed the path blazed by his eyes, along the sharp bones of her cheeks, over the plump curve of her bottom lip. Marking the faint cleft of her chin, then along her jaw to the thin skin over her pulse. The room was so quiet, he could hear the instant her breathing quickened.

  Her hand, which had been rubbing lazy circles on his stomach, moved to the bottom of his T-shirt. Without opening her eyes, Serena felt her way under his shirt. He sucked in a gasp as her fingers swirled through the soft hairs that disappeared beneath his waistband. Taking advantage of the gap between fabric and flesh, Serena followed the trail down. The tips of her fingers, stalled by the ungiving denim, just grazed the tip of his straining erection.

  Serena nipped his chest through the thin jersey of his T-shirt. "You wear your jeans too tight," she complained.

  "Undo them." The sound of his own harsh whisper made Riff realize he'd gotten distracted from his own exploration. He got to work unbuttoning her blouse, spreading it wide. The calluses on his fingertips caught in the delicate lace of her bra.

  Serena murmured and shifted a bit, until one nipple was poised beneath his questing fingers. Riff obliged, pressing against the hard peak in a firm swirl.

  "Like this?" he teased. "Or like this." His fingers came together in a pinch. She gasped.

  Abruptly, Serena sat up enough to move away from him. Disappointment shot through him. He hadn't meant to push her. Firmly, he reminded himself of his vow to let Serena set the pace while her kids were nearby. If she wasn't comfortable being with him ….

  Gracefully, Serena spun to ease a leg over his knee until she was straddling one of his thighs. Both hands went to his waist, where she unhooked the brass button of his jeans. Riff jolted. He was so hard he swore he felt each individual tooth of the zipper digging into his tight flesh. He wanted to yank the zipper down himself until she had something else in her hand. She'd taken hold of the tab on his zipper when she stopped again.