by Tara Andrews
“Dad says I can call him anytime and he wouldn’t mind. He’s away a lot.”
“I know. He travels for work, right?” She searched the bed for Mark’s shirt. Where the hell is it?
“Yes, but he always makes the nightmares go away.”
Poor girl missed her father. “You can make the nightmares go away, too,” Rachel said.
“I tried, but it doesn’t work.”
Rachel swung her feet over the side of the bed, not too keen on the idea of releasing the blankets, even though Kelsey couldn’t see her. “Want to know what my mom always told me?”
“What?”
“That everyone is in charge of their dreams. Everyone has to listen to you. If you tell someone or something to go away, it goes away.”
The line went silent for a few seconds. “I don’t have a mom anymore.” This prompted more demands from the woman Rachel now identified as Grandma to give her the phone.
The small admission squeezed her heart. “I know, sweetie. My mom passed away, too. I miss her a lot.” She pressed a fist to her chest. It still hurt every single day to know she’d never talk to her mother again. The urge to dial her number would hit Rachel later, like it often did. She had so much to share with her. About how she’d met a great guy, but didn’t know what would happen next. Tell her about switching places with Sasha and how much trouble it’d caused. Her mother would not have approved, but she would have helped figure something out.
Kelsey didn’t reply. Rachel hoped talking about it hadn’t made her cry. She’d just wanted to let her know she wasn’t alone. “But you know what? She’ll always be with me. Just like your mom is always looking out for you, even if she can’t be with you in person.”
“That’s what my dad said, too.”
“See? He’s a smart guy.”
Rachel glanced toward movement on her right. Mark strode toward her, a towel wrapped around his hips. He must have guessed who she was speaking to, and she expected him to be annoyed, mad, even. Instead, the softness in his eyes and the slight tilt to his lips sent a tremor through her.
Her fan-girl crush had transformed into a more genuine type of affection sometime during the night with him. After getting to know the real Mark Travis.
Shit.
“Speaking of your dad, he just got back. Do you want to talk to him?”
Mark kept his gaze trained on Rachel as he approached. He should have anticipated Kelsey’s usual crack-of-dawn call. Actually, his daughter had recently taken to calling him with nightmares, late at night, when he was on the road. Nothing like a middle-of-the-night guilt trip to keep a guy from sleeping. But he’d still texted his mother-in-law the night before with the room number change just in case Kelsey needed him.
Rachel extended the phone and mouthed the words, “I’m sorry.”
He leaned down and gave her a quick kiss before putting the phone to his ear, grateful she’d shared her story with Kelsey. Rachel slipped out of bed and made her way to the bathroom while he turned his attention to the phone. “Morning, princess.”
“Who is that woman?” His mother-in-law’s question surprised him.
He ignored it. “Oh, sorry, Barbara. Where is Kelsey? Can I talk to her?”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
He took a deep breath. Her demand didn’t sit well with him, but strain filled her voice. Bad night? He hoped Kelsey hadn’t given her too hard a time. Or maybe because Kelsey had mentioned her mom? Something had upset Barbara, so he blew out the breath he’d been holding. “No. I suppose I didn’t.”
The silence on the line told him she either didn’t know what to say or withheld saying what she really wanted to.
“Listen, Barbara, I know it’s still hard, but it’s time I brought someone into my life.”
“And Kelsey’s. It’s not just about you, you know?”
“Of course. I’d never bring anyone home who I didn’t think would be good for her, too.” More silence. He imagined Barbara struggling on the other end with her limitations and hating them. “Hey, I got a surprise for you and Rich. I bid on an all-inclusive Las Vegas package last night and won. I thought it’d be a perfect getaway for you two.” The auction might not have worked out exactly as planned, but he’d give them the trip they deserved.
“Oh, we couldn’t take that.”
“You’re not taking it, it’s yours.” The water in the shower kicked on. He needed to figure out how to tell Rachel he wanted more than a single night before she left. “Is Kelsey still around? I’d like to talk to her.”
His daughter got back on the line and spent the next ten minutes talking about anything that popped into her mind—the games she’d played yesterday, what she’d had for breakfast, what happened at school…though no mention of a bad dream.
The hum of the hair dryer coming from Rachel’s direction, and his daughter’s chatter, made him smile. Contentment stole over him, and for the moment, he wasn’t alone. That sobered him. He’d never realized loneliness had been at the root of the rut he’d been in.
After assuring his daughter he’d be home soon, he had time to dress before Rachel emerged from the bathroom. Her hair had been blown into long wavy strands, and a terrycloth towel covered her from her breasts to mid-thigh. He didn’t want to put a name to the emotion seizing his heart, but he’d experienced it only once before.
“I hope I didn’t make things awkward for you.” She stopped in front of him, her bold fingers hooking into the waistband of his jeans.
“Everything’s fine. Kelsey didn’t seem to think anything of it.”
“And her grandmother?”
He spread the edges of her wrap and slid a hand inside, running over her hip to her ass. “My mother-in-law. Well, technically, former mother-in-law. My in-laws help me out with Kelsey when I’m traveling. I think Barbara’s in shock, but deep down, she understands.”
“I never thought…I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m surprised Sasha hasn’t tried to call me.”
Mark laughed. “She’d probably call your cell. Where is it?”
“God, that’s brilliant.” Rachel shook her head and headed toward the living room. He followed. “I seriously need coffee to get my brain working.” Lifting her purse from the table, she snapped it open.
“I could order some for you.”
She thumbed over her screen, not replying. Distress took over her features. “I have to go.”
“What happened?”
“Victor called an informal press conference for this morning to talk about the rumors.” Hurrying her pace, she returned to the bedroom, the movements stiff with worry.
“The manager?”
In a flash, Rachel had dropped her covering and stepped into her dress. “Yes. I have to be there.”
“Maybe you should just let him handle it. That’s what managers are for.”
Shaking her head, she sped past him toward the living room. “You don’t understand, that’s what I’m afraid of.” She stuffed her discarded accessories from the night before into her purse. “I have no idea what he’s going to say. I have a feeling he’s going to use me, somehow.”
“And what did your sister have to say about this?”
Rachel gathered her hair into a ponytail with an elastic band. But she hadn’t answered his question.
“Rachel, you did tell her about what’s going on, didn’t you?”
“She said she’d take care of it. Now, I have no idea what they’re going to do. I need to talk to her before it goes too far.”
Mark barely caught her before she yanked the front door of the suite open. “Wait. I wanted to talk to you before you left.”
She faced him, emotional distance already evident in her expression. “About?”
“I want to see you again.”
“Mark, I want to see you again, too. More than you know, but—”
“No buts. I liked everything up to that point.”
“You don’t understand. I could be made into th
e bad guy or, at the very minimum, exposed in a scandal. I don’t want any part of this to touch you. I can’t—”
“Stop! You’ve taken on this role of protector with your sister, and now you’re ready to do the same for me. I don’t need protecting, Rachel. I need you.” Her quick inhale told him he’d shocked her, but he needed the fastest way to get past any argument she’d invent. “Sasha is every bit as responsible for last night. Don’t let them pin this on you.”
“I didn’t plan to.”
Despite not having known Rachel for very long, he knew her character. She’d sacrifice herself for her sibling, and damn it, it killed him to think Sasha would let her. But this wasn’t his battle. Rachel needed to take a stand.
“It is true, what Victor said. Her reputation would be ruined. I don’t have as much at stake.”
“It doesn’t matter. You deserve better than to be sacrificed to the press.”
She took another breath and covered her face for a moment, her inner turmoil evident. Mark wished he could have five minutes with that Victor guy. How could he put the blame on her?
“Mark, I have to go. I have to talk to Sasha.”
“Don’t leave the hotel before you talk to me.” When she didn’t give an answer right away he pushed. “Promise me?”
Chapter Seven
Rachel shook her head. Through all the conflicting, dark concerns battling inside her, the knowledge Mark Travis wanted to see her glowed bright. But, she couldn’t drag him into the disaster she’d helped create. Not until she knew he wouldn’t suffer by being associated with her.
She wanted to lean into him, nuzzle her nose into his neck, and breathe him in one last time before she left. He grasped her nape and dragged her toward his mouth. His tongue swept inside like a greedy invader. She fell against his chest and allowed herself the moment. Could she ever get enough of him?
No.
Easing away, he rested his hands on her hips. “Stay. Let them worry about this.”
“I can’t. I wish I could, but I can’t.” Rachel moved out of his hold and opened the door. “’Bye, Mark.”
She headed to the elevator at the end of the hallway and prayed she didn’t run into anyone, self-conscious of walking in the early morning hours in the same, but wrinkled, dress from the night before.
The doors slid open. Victor straightened from staring at his Italian leather shoes. Great. After such a magical evening, her luck had run out big time. She stepped inside. The button for her floor had already been selected.
He took in her appearance with a bit of surprise, and maybe a touch of judgment in his eyes. Either that or her propensity to over-analyze had her seeing things.
They sped down to the twelfth floor. In complete silence. She didn’t feel like saying anything without Sasha present. Victor must have been of a similar mindset because other than a good morning, he didn’t speak either. She exited the car when it came to stop, the manager right on her heels.
In the suite, Sasha sat at the table by the window, eating her daily fruit and yogurt. Rachel’s stomach growled, the sight of the food reminding her she hadn’t eaten since the day before. Taking the chair across from her twin, she helped herself to a strawberry.
“Sasha, what is this about a press conference?”
Her sister pushed the bowl in her direction, offering more sustenance. “There are a lot of rumors floating around. Reporters have been questioning people who worked backstage. It seems the cat is out of the bag.”
“We have to nip this in the bud,” Victor said, adding his own cliché. With his hands in his pockets and feet braced apart, he looked like a Christian Grey-wannabe. “I spoke to Sasha last night and we think the best way to handle this is to, of course, apologize for the confusion, but announce you’ll be joining the group.”
Rachel faced Sasha. “Oh, no. Absolutely not.”
The yogurt seemed to capture her undivided attention, and she didn’t reply. She knew where Rachel stood on the topic. It was the one thing Rachel hadn’t budged on. After years of Sasha trying to convince her and failing, Rachel thought the idea of her teaming up with the group had finally been squashed.
Victor intruded again. “Rachel, we’ll go down and say Sasha’s illness prompted an early debut performance. That there was some miscommunication, and the change in lineup wasn’t announced as planned. If you’re part of the group, it doesn’t leave much else to say about it.”
Rachel waited for a protest from Sasha, but it didn’t come. After all she’d done for her—more than she ever should have—she’d repay Rachel this way? Her wishes ignored and pushed into a career she didn’t want. And, in the end, like always, Sasha would get exactly what she wanted.
“Well, the two of you are going to have to come up with something else. I’m not joining the group.” Rachel stood and headed toward her bedroom, needing to get out of yesterday’s clothes and pack.
“Wait.”
She halted at the request and spun around.
“I didn’t think it would be such a big deal. But it’s not right. I know you’ve never wanted this. Victor, we’ll just have to suck it up,” Sasha said.
He shook his head. “It doesn’t work that way, and you know it. This is the best solution.”
Satisfied her twin would do the right thing, Rachel turned to leave again. “Well, obviously you two have things to talk about. I’m going to change.”
Rachel made it to her room, leaving Sasha and Victor to discuss what to do. Had Jonathan left already? Strange. She couldn’t picture him leaving Sasha to face the situation alone, although Rachel didn’t know his schedule. Maybe he had a scheduled appearance somewhere.
A weight lifted off her when she got into her multi-colored, chevron-pattern maxi dress and sandals. Sasha’s Alexander McQueen might have been gorgeous, but wasn’t really her style. Or comfortable. After applying some light makeup and transferring the contents of her evening purse to a decent-size handbag, she threw the rest of her belongings into a suitcase. She couldn’t wait to leave Las Vegas behind. But not Mark.
The urge to call him bloomed. Why had she been so quick to block him out? How stupid could she be? Gorgeous, talented, caring Mark Travis wanted to see her again, and she hadn’t jumped at the chance. She groaned. She’d call him before she left, as he’d asked.
After throwing on a thin jean jacket, she rejoined Sasha, the wheeled luggage trailing behind her.
“Are you ready?” Sasha asked. “We have to get downstairs.”
“Wait a second. I thought you weren’t going to go through with this.”
“No, I’m not going to, or let Victor push you into the group, no matter how awesome you would be. But I do need you to be there with me.”
Rachel wanted no part of the press, but she couldn’t let Sasha face them alone. After all, even if she regretted it, she had played a part in the whole mess, too. So long as they faced the music together, she’d stand beside her sister. “All right. But where is Jonathan?” And Victor? Though she decided not to even mention him.
“He’s meeting us downstairs.”
They made their way down to the empty theater where Victor waited. The line from an old poem, Will you walk into my parlor? said the spider to the fly, came to mind. Unease swept through her.
In the next second, the paparazzi spotted them and reporters fired off questions and snapshots. Rachel couldn’t make heads or tails of it, but Sasha, a veteran, smiled and answered some of the easier ones right away.
Then, another presence broke through the chaos and she glanced toward the theater entrance to find Mark approaching. He took position beside her; a wink and slight tilt to his lips the only communication he offered. Total recall of every delicious thing he’d done to her the night before sent a warm flutter from her stomach to her core.
His presence renewed the enthusiasm of the reporters, making it impossible to ignore them. Not as startled as the first time around, she understood some of the questions being thrown at them.
/> “Mark, how are you involved with the Turner sisters?”
“Mark, were you aware the wrong sister was on stage?”
“Rachel, when did you meet Mark?”
“Sasha, did you know about the deception?”
Each question punctuated with a camera flash. Rachel had been caught in a picture or two while working with Wicked Vixen, but she usually hung out on the sidelines. Being front and center at the moment reminded her why she’d never followed in Sasha’s footsteps. Everything about the situation scared the crap out of her.
Victor called for some order. “Please, everyone, it’s all been a misunderstanding. We’re happy to announce—”
“Actually, I asked Rachel to fill in for me.” Sasha’s ready admission startled Rachel. They hadn’t discussed the new game plan, but she’d assumed there’d be some elusive denial offered.
“Why?” A random reporter asked.
“I wasn’t feeling well, but there were only minutes before we were supposed to take the stage. I hated the idea of canceling. This cause is very important to me and Rachel, and we didn’t want anything to prevent the show from going on.”
Rachel stepped closer to her. “Unfortunately, nothing had gone right about it either.”
“Mark, what did you think about the performance?” another reporter asked.
“Rachel’s phenomenal. Entertaining is obviously in her blood, and she put on a hell of a performance.” He took her hand, his eyes filled with desire and longing so hot, she was surprised her clothes didn’t combust. But her heart swelled from the soft affection reflected in them, too.
“Jonathan, did you know about the switch?”
Rachel snapped her head around to find Jonathan next to Sasha.
Another reporter fired off a question before the first was answered. “Sasha, you said you were sick. What was wrong?”
“Actually, nothing is wrong.” Her eyes were on Jonathan. “Everything is perfect.”
“Not yet.” From his pocket, Jonathan produced a small, Tiffany-blue velvet box. “Seems I didn’t have what I needed to make it official last night.” He popped the lid to reveal a beautiful princess-cut diamond ring. Tears sprang to Rachel’s eyes as he slid the ring onto Sasha’s finger. The press had an even bigger story then, and it wasn’t even aware of her sister’s condition yet.