Rocked Part 6 LIMITED EDITION: A New Adult Rockstar Romance (Billionaire's Obsession)

by Wild, Bella

  We touched down on the island helicopter pad, and were met by two men in suits. They ushered us into the grand entry of a colossal castle-like structure to meet the royal families. The exterior seemed to be a fusion of mysterious eastern European spires and towers at the top, with Italian archways lining the main and second floors. Inside was elegantly decorated in shades of blue, cream and bronze, with bright floor-to ceiling drapes that snapped and whipped in the breeze as they let in the dazzling sunlight. The place almost had an aura to it…it was so bright.

  Several members of the two families were lined up, waiting to welcome us. All the attention was on Johnny, and honestly, that suited me just fine. It meant I didn’t need to do much more than nod politely as I kept watch. My eyes shifted away from the sculpture I had been inspecting, over to Johnny as he greeted the two princesses. Both were tall, graceful and drop-dead gorgeous.

  Princess Marina-Claire had a classic European beauty, with bright blue eyes and waist-length strawberry blonde hair. I quickly decided Princess Ameena was possibly the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She had jet black hair that fell in loose waves around her shoulders. Her huge almond-shaped brown eyes were clear and bright with animation as she spoke. And her body was slender, yet had alluring curves.

  I hung back with Fred and his team, and Kevin unceremoniously lumped me in with them when the formal introductions were made. Kevin glossed over me, calling me Rachel, but did not add that I was Johnny’s girlfriend—pretend or otherwise. I was not even his bodyguard. I was just “Rachel.” The princesses smiled at all of us, thanked us for coming, and honed in on Johnny. I couldn’t fight off a twinge of jealousy as I watched him smile and chat with the two of them. They were far enough away that I couldn’t hear every word, but whatever they were talking about, he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself.

  Once the families excused themselves, Johnny was shown to a main floor guest room that had been set aside for him to use as his dressing room. Kevin was assigned the room beside Johnny, and the FBI and security team had a sitting room a few doors down. I followed Johnny with Fred and one of the new FBI agents in tow. The three of us swept the room, checking thoroughly for anything suspicious. The words from the stalker’s messages rang through my mind. We couldn’t afford to leave anything to chance. Fred had briefed me on the plane ride that the two agents back in LA, Jenny and Lucas, were still looking for answers, but had not uncovered anything new so far.

  We did not tell Johnny about the newest message, mainly because it was not much different or any more alarming than the earlier posts. When we had wrapped up searching the room, Johnny came in and flopped into a chair, letting out a long sigh. He seemed tired. I was also adjusting to the long flight, and felt little desire to start a conversation.

  “Everything okay?” Kevin asked as he entered the room.

  “All clear,” Fred replied. He got up off the floor after checking all sides of Johnny’s bed.

  “Excellent,” Kevin answered, seeming more relieved. “Gentlemen and Amanda, would you mind if I spoke with Johnny alone?”

  Chapter Five

  Amanda

  Kevin explained he need some time to go over some show details with Johnny, and afterward we could all head over to make a short appearance for autographs at the pool before going to the concert stage area.

  “Your men can meet the security team, Fred. And Johnny can get some time in with his band members and the road crew. I only need a few minutes.”

  “He’s all yours,” Fred answered, and the three of us filed out of the room.

  The rest of Fred’s team were in the sitting room down the hall. Fred went in to call them over, so we could have a short meeting in the hallway. They joined us and waited. Fred took the opportunity to give the group a few reminders, primarily about coverage of the location, working in cooperation with the Sheikh’s guards and Kevin’s private security team, as well as identifying vantage points once we got to the stage. They did not have to be reminded about maintaining a level of professionalism, or on how to interact with the fans, Johnny, or members of the two royal families. These were highly trained men with international experience.

  It was great learning for me, and I soaked up all their tactics and terminology like a sponge. In many respects, I had to give Fred some appreciation. He treated me like someone on his team, never simplified any information because I was female or not FBI, and overall, respected me as though I played just as important a role as any one of his agents.

  After he wrapped up, we waited a few minutes before the door of Johnny’s room opened. I tried to make eye contact with him, hoping to get some kind of signal from him that things were okay between us, if even just on a professional level. I viewed him as an ally for this assignment, and had become so comfortable talking to him—among other things—I could see us being good friends if nothing else. Even though we hadn’t known each other that long, our conversations came easily right from the start. I wasn’t sure if I was imagining things, but it felt like there was some sort of unspoken barrier between us. I had to assume it was just his process to ready himself for performing, and nothing more. I hoped that was all it was.

  “The princesses have invited us to come and meet her friends out pool-side,” Kevin announced to us. “Johnny will make a quick appearance. Afterward, we need to get to the stage for a sound check, and to make sure everything’s ready for the show. The security staff I hired arrived earlier today with the road crew. They’ve swept the stage and concert area.”

  Fred nodded through Kevin’s update, and replied, “We still don’t have many clues on the identity of the stalker, so we all need to be observant and alert. I realize this is a private party, in a remote location, and it seems far-fetched that the stalker will make his or her appearance tonight, but we can’t know for sure. My agents and I will do a second inspection of the stage and backstage areas. Amanda and Larry, you stick with Johnny.”

  I nodded, and looked over at Johnny. His face was still masked. Larry went out front, and I followed a step behind Johnny as we made our way to the pool area. We emerged into the back deck. There was the same spectacular theme from the hallway. The area had been designed to look like a lavish oasis. The pool was surrounded by natural stone, with one elevated section that looked like an infinity pool to the Aegean Sea. There were palm trees, dense foliage and other lush greens strategically placed for shade and to accentuate the décor. It felt like stepping into a warm fantasy.

  Johnny clearly thought so too. He lifted his sunglasses, and his eyes widened as he looked around. He raised his eyebrows when he turned and caught sight of the multitude of bikini-clad women reveling in and around the water. The chaos broke out all at once. One girl spotted Johnny, and then a full-on frenzy took place. With the exception of the two princesses, all the girls ran over to Johnny, squealing and shouting for his attention.

  Johnny’s face broke out in a huge smile as he stood signing autographs on beach totes, hats, and even one girl’s bare stomach. Larry and I stayed close, but Kevin was edged out of the way as Johnny was engulfed in the crowd. At one point, Kevin fought his way back to Johnny’s side, and told Larry and me we could hang back.

  “He’s fine,” he said.

  “It’s our jobs to be with him,” Larry reminded him. “One of those girls could be our crazed fan.”

  I was astounded that Kevin, the man who had been so worried about Johnny’s safety, would be so short-sighted as to prevent us from doing our jobs well. I couldn’t shake the feeling it was simply because he didn’t like me.

  “You’ll be a few feet away,” Kevin told us. “If something happens, you’re right here.”

  He turned back to watch Johnny. I stood my ground and Larry hesitated long enough to be swept into the crazed mob. In part, Kevin could have been right. Looking at the thong bikinis most of these young women were wearing, there was no way any of them could be concealing any dangerous weapon. Still, it bothered me that he would tell us to stand d
own. I kept asking myself what the point was of hiring people, and involving the Feds to protect someone, and then turning around and exposing them to potential hazards.

  This assignment was turning into a joke—well, it was probably a joke from the time I had to abandon my better judgment, act like a rock star’s doting girlfriend, and change my name and appearance to make the media spin doctors happy. I felt more and more like a cardboard cutout version of a personal bodyguard with each passing hour. I couldn’t imagine how the FBI felt sometimes, but if they could take it in stride, I could too.

  Larry signaled to me and Kevin after most of the commotion had died down. “I thought Rachel was supposed to be Johnny’s girlfriend?” he asked. I had the same question, and was glad when Larry raised it. “What happened to that whole thing? You didn’t even introduce her when we got here.”

  Kevin laughed. “That plan was to meet two objectives. First, we needed to leverage the mainstream media to get some messages out to the stalker, right?” He didn’t wait for Larry to answer. “Second, so that Amanda can blend into the security team without making Johnny appear too insulated. But even if she was his girlfriend, this is exactly how it needs to unfold on the road. You think all these girls want to meet Johnny’s girlfriend? Fuck no! They want the dream, the fantasy that they have a chance with him. And it’s Johnny’s job to play into that illusion.”

  Larry was the consummate professional. He nodded respectfully, but kept his eyes trained on Johnny. I followed suit, and shifted my gaze back toward the receding swarm. There were still a few girls pulling on his arm and talking a million miles an hour. His patience and ease with the situation surprised me. The girls were so young, and so amped up. I would have been dying to get away as soon as possible, but Johnny’s face was relaxed in an easy smile, talking and laughing with them like he enjoyed their company. He allowed them to take pictures with him, signed more autographs, told jokes, and laughed right along at theirs.

  Eventually, Kevin intervened to cut it short. He politely tore Johnny away from the young women, and we returned inside. At the doors, Johnny turned and waved at the girls again. They were all pouting, begging him to stay and party with them. I was fascinated by how gracious he had been. God knows, at his level of fame, he could have been an arrogant prick about the whole thing.

  We met Fred on the way to the stage, and he informed us that the inspections had been completed. Johnny had the all clear to meet up with his band to do their sound check and get warmed up.

  “Are you ready?” I asked him.

  Fred, Larry and Kevin walked a few steps ahead of us.

  “Sure, let’s go,” Johnny said.

  He was somewhat cold and aloof to me as he strode off to catch up to Kevin. One thing was for sure—the tour would feel a lot more like a professional gig if he planned on keeping up the Johnny Q Venom act. And I didn’t mind it one bit.

  Chapter Six

  Amanda

  “Amanda, over here,” Fred called to me.

  I followed him and Larry over to the stage area. It was an outdoor arena on the other side of the mansion. It was set up like an open-air amphitheater. The stage was a large pie-shaped platform in the center, with more than half of it serving as the backstage, shielded off by decorative molding that matched the castle’s décor. The open part of stage was surrounded by bench seating installed on grounds that sloped down at an angle toward the front.

  I climbed the stairs and followed Fred and Larry backstage. Fred showed us around and introduced us to the security guards Kevin had hired. Johnny and Kevin met with the band members and worked with the sound production team. Larry and I were the last two on the team to receive our single-wire earpieces. They were a top of the line model, with the push-to-talk feature. It made it easier for the team to communicate with the FBI team member who took on the dispatcher role for the evening.

  The stage area was busy. There was less than two hours to the concert start time, so we all focused and got our heads in the game. In pretty short order, Johnny, his band and backup singers began to look like the men and women of pop-rock that I had seen on the videos when I first looked him up on his website. Sound equipment was being tested and retested. Electric guitars, drums and other instruments were tuned and synchronized, and the performers on vocals hummed a few bars to calibrate the microphones. Johnny was in his element. His cool factor rose into the stratosphere just from standing on center stage. Or maybe I was just as star struck as the giddy pool-side girls. What I knew was I had to shake off that daze, and remember why I was there.

  Within two hours, the small audience comprised mostly of teenage girls arrived. They ignored the bench seating and crowded together at the front, unable to resist the opportunity to get closer to the stage. They waited impatiently for the show to begin, phone cameras on the ready. Johnny and his crew stood backstage, awaiting their introduction. I was assigned to one section located just backstage left, with Daniel, one of Fred’s agents stationed in Europe.

  Daniel tapped my shoulder, and when I looked over at him, he gave me a nod, motioning for me to look toward center stage. It was Johnny, trying to get my attention. He smiled over at me, and I held his gaze for a moment, before he was pulled off in another direction by one of the guitarists. The gesture he sent my way was enough of a positive signal, and I took it to mean our connection was still solid.

  “Do you need these?” Fred’s question gave me a startle. I turned to look at him and noticed he was offering me a pair of neon orange earplugs to wear over my earpiece and in my free ear.

  “I think I’ll pass,” I told him. After seeing Johnny’s videos online, I did not want to miss out on his live performance.

  He had a dead serious expression on his face. “I hate rock music,” he said. It took real effort for me not to burst out laughing.

  Seconds later, the show began. Princess Ameena graced the stage, and gave a short, polished speech in her best friend’s honor. She then introduced Johnny, and with refinement and composure, exited stage left to rejoin the audience. Even with such a small crowd, the energy in the house was palpable. Screams echoed in the night air, drowning out some of the sound from central dispatch on my earpiece. I was relieved not to have been assigned to the floor of the house. The security guards standing at the bottom of the stage were pushed and bumped by the excited girls, all trained on Johnny as he walked down stage.

  The man had a stage presence like no one I had ever seen. He strolled up, wireless hand-held microphone in his right hand, looking like he was born to carry it. I noticed he had changed outfits at some point as well. He wore a white, V-neck t-shirt with faded greyish-black, skin tight jeans, and designer sunglasses. The down-stage lighting accentuated every tight muscle on his body, and gave his face an even more chiseled look. He was overflowing with sex appeal.

  The horde of girls was riveted. The second he lifted the microphone near his face, the gathering fell silent. He said a few words of thanks to Princess Ameena, and birthday greetings to Princess Marina-Claire. He made a sideways nod to signal the drummer, and the other instruments joined the introduction. He sang out the first verse of a rock ballad, and the young ladies were back to screaming, crying, and I thought I could make out one who fainted before he made it to the chorus. The ones who were still conscious sang along to the words of the song, memorized verbatim to match his performance. Talk about intoxicated. By the second song, the fast-paced pop-styled rock song erupted, sending the girls into a gallop-slash-bounce type of dance.

  Johnny was pretty freaking amazing. Had I not been completing a crucial task, I would have been just as wrapped up in his performance. He was so damn sexy, and his charm and confidence gave off such power. He owned the stage. Johnny was well aware of the effect he had on every girl in the audience. They all climbed over each other to get closer to him. And he relished in their affection. There was a clear exchange of energies—the excited crowd overflowed with adoration, and he absorbed in their liveliness and gave it all b
ack to them with his performance. It was magical and beautiful to witness.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted one of the agents trained on the perimeter of the crowd, and I refocused. I was able to scan the crowd from my spot backstage, and looked for any unusual behavior. Like a magnet, my eyes kept trailing back to Princess Marina-Claire. Her face lit up each time Johnny threw her a dazzling smile or nodded in her general direction. He made a point of looking only at her as he sang a particularly sexy line of lyrics, and she fanned herself, finally breaking down to laugh and squeal along with her guests.

  Johnny ate it up. He knelt on the stage and reached a hand down to her, singing the chorus directly to her. And when she placed her hand in his, he pressed a kiss to her hand. She was in a trance. It reminded me of how he had made the same move on me when I first met him, and I wondered whether both times were just an act. If that were the case, it would only make it easier for me to let go when the time came. As much as I enjoyed his company, I was more than willing to have a clean break after this gig ended, and would be fine with parting as friends. It allowed for simplicity, and less involvement of some of the human emotions I had still been struggling to master.

  “What do you think?” A voice murmured in my ear.

  I turned, startled, and found myself staring into Kevin’s eyes.

  I shrugged my shoulders, and with the noise, I mouthed the words, “What do you mean?”

  He nodded in Johnny’s direction and shouted. “The show.”

  “It’s great,” I said, turning to focus on my job.

  Kevin was silent for a beat, and we both watched Johnny as he finished another song. He took a few moments to grab a drink from his water bottle on the other side of the stage. The volume was low enough for Kevin to resume. Unfortunately.