by Mia Dymond
“And you’d rather believe that than know the truth?”
Rachel imitated Cameron’s patented eye roll. “It’s not the same, Hawke, you’re a celebrity. The average Joe doesn’t have the opportunity to discover the truth.”
Hawke pushed off the railing. “But you do. Would you rather keep me away because of what you think is the truth?”
Rachel looked him straight in the eye, still very afraid of the consequences of her answer. “No.”
“I’m offering you the chance to make your own decision.”
“Why?”
“I trust you.” His fingers rubbed small circles on her bare shoulder. “You want me, Rachel, and I refuse to let anything stand in your way.”
She was now convinced he could see right through her. Flames licked her cheeks. “Sure of yourself, aren’t you?” she squeaked.
“Very.” He stepped closer and caressed the side of her jaw with his knuckles. “After last night, I’m positive. It’s simple chemistry. I want you, you want me.”
Rachel wanted to deny his observation, but her denial wouldn’t hold water; her body reacted too violently to his touch.
She cleared her throat and demanded her body behave. “I’m not some sponge-brained groupie, Hawke.”
“Far from it.” He moved his hand down to caress the hollow of her neck.
Rachel closed her eyes and a small, barely audible moan escaped her lips. His soft touch made her limp with need. Coming to her senses, she quickly batted his hand away. “Okay, I give. I do want you. But you know as well as I do, it will never work.”
“Why?”
“Because I won’t settle for a one-night stand and that seems to be your specialty.”
His eyes flashed hurt. “Do you really believe that?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so abrupt, but you’re a musical icon. Women literally throw themselves at you and stuff panties in your pocket on a nightly basis.” Rachel tossed her hands in the air. “I don’t even know if Hawke is your real name. And really, if I’m going to scream a name in the throes of passion, I prefer it to be a real one!”
Hawke only stared, obviously not expecting that particular excuse. And then she caught a sparkle in the depths of his eyes.
“That is my name and I’ll make absolutely sure you scream it.”
Rachel released a long, heavy sigh. “I don’t have anything to offer you.”
He tipped her chin with his finger. “You have much more to offer than you think.”
Her breath caught in her throat. She could so easily fall prey to his hypnotizing charm. Slowly she stepped away from his tempting touch. “Let me think about this.”
He shrugged. “Think about it all you want. You’ll only make yourself more frustrated.”
Rachel knew he was exactly right. Yet, like Cameron said, she shouldn’t make it too easy. She gave him a wide smile. “I’m willing to take the chance.”
***
Max shifted his weight and forced his queasiness to the bottom of his stomach as he watched Pirelli press the fiery vixen closer to him and position himself between her legs. One more inch and he could do her right there on the dance floor. Who the hell danced like that? His face burned when Pirelli’s hand slid from the small of her back to squeeze one round globe of her ass.
Max glanced across the room and spotted a fire extinguisher hanging behind glass in a corner. That would put a kink in Casanova’s game. Max shook his head to clear his thoughts. Who the hell cared? He wasn’t on playground duty tonight. He glanced back at the couple just as she swatted Pirelli and moved his hand back to her waist, but it wasn’t two seconds later before Pirelli went for it again. Max held his breath, sure he would have to peel Pirelli off the floor any second. Instead, she glanced Max’s direction and smirked.
And then wiggled her ass against Pirelli’s hand.
Behind his shaded lenses, Max gave her a stare he used right before wringing a neck. Or slicing an artery. Only, she had no idea she was on the receiving end.
Finally releasing his gaze, she swatted Pirelli again and giggled as she led him back to their table. She then swayed toward the bar.
Max elbowed Huntington in the arm. “Here comes Trouble.”
Huntington tightened his hold on his wineglass, loosened his tie, and took a swig of wine. “Hey, Cameron.”
“Greg.” She nodded as the bartender handed her three glasses.
She turned to face Max and tilted her head to the side. “I’m taking two of these back for Hawke and Rachel. Do you need to taste them first?”
Max shifted his weight, prepared to beat her at her own game. “What’s your poison?”
“Wine. Red. Most likely sour. Do you need to know the year?”
Max shrugged. “Why not?”
She squeezed her eyes closed for a split second and then opened them. “I have no idea. Shall I ask the bartender?”
Totally stimulated by her smart mouth, Max folded his arms across his chest and prepared to play. Then he remembered Huntington stood next to him, a witness to their game. “No, Cupcake,” he answered smoothly. “I trust you.”
Huntington coughed and a splash of wine hit Max’s shoulder. Max thumped him on the back with added force.
Huntington frowned. “Thanks, Max.”
She gave them both another narrowed stare then left. Max exhaled a long, slow breath.
Huntington cleared his throat. ““Uh, Max, did you just call her —”
”Strategy, Huntington.”
Huntington swallowed the remaining wine in his glass then reached for another. “Good idea.” He signaled at Hawke to step to the podium. “It’s time for Hawke to speak.”
Returning to his table, Greg downed the glass of wine in several seconds and glanced at his watch. Another half hour and they could blow this popsicle stand. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Although he wasn’t quite sure about Hawke’s decision to slow down, he fully supported it. And, seeing Hawke with Rachel only helped his argument. She had a way of calming him, bringing him into the real world, away from the glitter and glam of fame. Simply put, she provided the kick in the ass he needed to keep from becoming too cocky. Maybe Hawke was onto something.
“Mr. Huntington?”
Greg knocked over his wine glass, startled by a sultry, female voice. He blinked several times to clear his vision, pleasantly surprised when he was able to focus. Her polished appearance screamed wealth and confidence. A diamond necklace sparkled around her long, smooth neck, the longest link dangling a large stone just above the valley of her ample cleavage.
“Yes, I’m Greg Huntington.” Part of him wondered why she approached him and the other, more stimulated part didn’t really give a damn.
“Monica Kensington.” She gestured at the chair across the table. “May I sit?”
“Please.”
“My sources tell me you’re Mr. Hawke’s manager.” She leaned forward, granting him a bird’s eye view the skin beneath her dress. “The hospital board is very grateful for his willingness to help raise funds for the new wing.”
“Hawke is honored to participate, Ms. Kensington.” His gaze traveled the surface of her chest before returning to her face. “He feels it’s the least he can do since he intends to move into the community.”
Her eyes twinkled. “And are you moving into the community as well?”
Greg leaned his head to one side and suddenly decided against that position. “No, I work out of Los Angeles. Hawke is just one of my clients.”
“I see.” She reached across the table to run one red fingernail across his knuckles. “So we won’t be seeing much of you.”
He shifted, still not entirely sure how to interpret her attention.
“Thing is, Mr. Huntington,” she continued, her voice heavy with heat, “I’d personally like to see more of you around here.”
He cocked an eyebrow and tried to remember how many glasses of wine he drank. “How much more of me?”
Suddenly her toes car
essed the hardness between his thighs. “All of you,” she whispered.
Greg swallowed hard while his erection saluted her. “Give me ten minutes,” he answered hoarsely, “then I’ll be able to walk out of here.”
As soon as Hawke finished dazzling the crowd, couples returned to the dance floor and several champagne corks popped.
Cameron leaned toward Rachel. “Do you need a break?”
“I could use one.”
Rachel followed Cameron to the ladies’ room and crowded next to her at the mirror. “So why are we in here? Your nose doesn’t need powder.”
Cameron pulled out her lipstick. “Who said anything about my nose? We’ve been so busy you haven’t told me about your trip with Music Man.”
Rachel shrugged. “What’s to tell?”
Cameron colored her lips then made a smacking noise with her mouth. “If there’s nothing to tell, you need to drop him like a hot potato.”
Rachel sighed, then smiled. “Well, you know how I feel about flying. All I could think about was crashing. But I sat between Hawke and Max.”
Cameron bobbed her head from side to side. “Not a bad place to be in an emergency.”
“My thought exactly. We had a really good time.”
Rachel paused and Cameron eyed her reflection in the mirror. “And?”
“I’m thinking about sticking a toe or two in to test the water.”
“What changed your mind?”
While Rachel elaborated on the rest of the day, the gleam in her eyes made Cameron’s gut clench. Maybe she shouldn’t push so hard. Rachel could end up heartbroken. In fact, chances were pretty good this thing with Hawke would end, badly or not. Could Rachel pull this off? Could she have a fling without attachment?
“Cameron!” Rachel waved a hand in front of Cameron’s face. “Hello?”
“Sorry.” Cameron backed up against the counter. “Continue.”
“He has kids. He took me to meet them and their mother.”
Cameron dropped the lid to her lipstick. “He’s married? I’ll kill him and Max can’t stop me!”
“Wait!” Rachel placed a hand on Cameron’s forearm. “I was kidding, sort of.”
“Sort of? What does that mean? How do you sort of have kids?”
Rachel picked up the lipstick tube and handed it to Cameron. “The kids are foster children and Hawke is their benefactor. Francie is the house mother.”
Cameron shook her head and tossed her lipstick into her velvet clutch. “Wow. A humanitarian. Didn’t see that one coming.”
“Me either. I was pleasantly surprised. And, you should’ve seen Max.”
Cameron tilted her head to one side. “What about him?”
“He was just one of the kids.”
“Huh.” Cameron opened the door and waved Rachel through. “Sorry I missed that.”
Rachel and Cameron made their way back across the conference room, stopping and chatting along the way. Once back at the table, Rachel put her bottle up to her lips and let the cold water slide down her scratchy, dry throat. Conversation always made her thirsty, but it seemed worse tonight. Maybe it had something to do with Hawke and his luscious self. Every time he looked into her eyes or grazed her with a touch, her mouth went dry.
Cameron plopped down in the seat next to her and picked up a program to fan the air around her. “Is it hot in here?”
Rachel searched the room until her gaze landed on Hawke. “Definitely so.”
“Rachel?” Cameron stopped fanning and leaned over. “What did you drink?”
“Water. Where’s that wine you brought earlier?”
“Right there.” Cameron pointed. “Just go easy.”
Rachel chuckled. “Why? So I don’t get drunk and have my wicked way with Hawke on top of the table?”
Cameron gave her a sideways look and took a swig of her own wine. “Maybe. Do you have to be drunk to do that?”
Rachel leaned back her head and swallowed the whole glass of wine. “I’m not going to get drunk.” She set the glass back on the table and noticed Sean and Hawke headed toward them. Cameron elbowed Rachel’s arm. “Speak of the devil. Why don’t you guys leave early?”
Rachel took Cameron’s wineglass out of her hand and took a sip.
“Enough.” Cameron snatched it back.
Hawke stopped in front of Rachel and extended his hand. “Dance with me.” His rich, velvet voice wrapped her like ribbons of silk.
Without a word, Rachel took his hand and they glided onto the dance floor. Hawke wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. Rachel laid her head on his chest, inhaling his musky scent. The room began a slow spin.
Rachel held tighter to Hawke and blamed the dancing and her overactive heartbeat. She attempted to follow his lead and managed a few more steps when she felt disconnected from her body. She knew that if he weren’t holding her so close, she would slide down his body onto the floor.
She lifted her head from his chest and blinked her eyes several times. “Hawke, I really need to sit down.”
Hawke lifted her chin. “Rachel?”
She stumbled and grabbed Hawke’s arm to keep from kissing the floor. Her legs felt like jelly and her vision blurred.
Hawke guided her to the table and Rachel stumbled again, this time almost tumbling head first into the floral centerpiece. Cameron frowned.
“How much has she had to drink?” Hawke asked.
Cameron reached to reposition the flowers. “One glass of wine. She’s not drunk.”
“I have to go to the ladies’ room,” Rachel mumbled.
“Good idea.” Cameron took her arm. “I’ll go with you.”
They made it to the hallway before Rachel’s legs buckled and she slid toward the floor. Cameron held on and managed to ease her down against the wall.
Cameron squatted beside her. “Rachel, you’re scaring me.”
Rachel rolled her head to the side. “I’m scaring me too. Cameron, I can’t feel my arms or legs.”
“Just sit here and relax.” Cameron stood and headed back to the gala. “I’m going for help.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Rachel mumbled.
Cameron hurried back into the conference room, fighting the urge to sprint and scream. Since that would attract way too much unwanted attention, she forced herself to walk … really fast. Unfortunately, Max and Hawke stood on the far side of the room.
Weaving her way through tables and waiters, she finally stopped beside Max. She wrapped her fingers around his biceps, although halfway was all she could manage. “I need you in the hallway.” She glanced at Hawke. “You too.”
“What’s wrong, Cameron?” Hawke asked.
“Rachel’s sprawled in the floor—” Suddenly, her lips were pressed against Max’s palm.
“Not here.”
Hawke didn’t wait for her answer and left the room. Cameron glanced up at Max with narrowed eyes. And then bit down hard on his middle finger.
She expected him to curse, both the pain and her, but instead he held her lips hostage and gestured behind her with his head.
Cameron whipped around so hard she almost tumbled into Greg and Monica. Max gripped her waist to keep her upright.
Greg laughed. “Guess we’ve all had a little much to drink.”
Cameron all but shouted at him. “I’m not drunk, you lush, just—”
This time Max gave her curls a serious yank. “Yeah, she just needs to sleep it off.”
Greg gave a goofy grin. “We’re going to call it a night. Do you need anything before I go?”
“As a matter of fact,” Cameron said, “I do. Could you please tell Sean I’m leaving with Rachel?”
Greg gripped the back of a chair. “Actually, he—”
“Huntington will deliver the message.” Max put a hand to the small of her back and pushed her to move.
“Where are Hawke and Rachel?” Monica asked.
Max nudged Cameron further from the table. “Waiting for us in the hallway.”
/> Hawke had managed to get Rachel upright and into a chair outside the door, but she was still limp and incoherent when they reached her. Her eyes were open but not focused.
“Get the car, Max.” Hawke lifted Rachel into his arms.
“Done. It’s parked at the side entrance.”
Max opened the limo door and motioned Hawke through. Cameron felt two very large hands on her backside as she bent to make sure Rachel rested comfortably in Hawke’s lap.
She scowled at the owner over her shoulder. “Watch the hands, Mr. Big.”
Max didn’t offer an apology and shoved her inside just before he crawled in beside her and barked orders at the driver.
As they sped through town, Hawke held Rachel on his lap, tenderly sweeping her hair out of her face and whispering to her. Max punched numbers on his cell phone, spoke in some sort of bodyguard language, then dialed again.
Cameron dropped her head into her hands. What on Earth happened tonight? She knew for a fact Rachel didn’t drink anything other than one glass of wine. She racked her brain for answers, interrupted when someone shook her shoulder.
“Hey, did you hear me?”
She lifted her head to address the hey man. “No, Frankenstein, I’m kinda freaked out right now. Listening to you isn’t my first priority.”
He pursed his lips. “Did you eat or drink anything that she did? Does she have some kind of medical condition that could have caused this?”
Cameron prayed for patience. “No medical condition. I didn’t eat off her plate and she didn’t eat off mine.”
“How do you feel?”
She gave him an over-exaggerated smile. “Peachy. And you?”
He totally ignored her sarcasm and kept firing questions. “What about alcohol?”
“She only drank the wine I offered you to taste.”
“Did you ever leave the table unattended?”
“Yes, Daddy, we went to the ladies’ room.”
Max paused and his chest rose and fell with several deep breaths. He peered over the top of his sunglasses and she caught the dim sparkle in his eyes. She cursed her smart mouth. Apparently, he read more into the daddy comment than she intended.