Starlight Samba (Dances With The Rock Star Book 2)

by Cynthia Dane

  As she suspected, Rick could not go out with her on their day off. Too dangerous. There were fans loitering outside the hotel, and every time the cops broke them up, they were replaced with more. Instead he invited Olivia up to his room, where they ordered in and got the most sight-seeing they could out of peering through the window.

  It was a gorgeous day. Balmy. Bright. A perfect day to go out and do something, but they couldn’t. So when Rick inevitably suggested they get in bed, Olivia had an idea. She opened the curtains by the bed wide, allowing the bright blue sky and sunshine through the double-paned glass. The room overlooked the water, other beautiful buildings, and a green hillside as lush as it was captivating. It was the perfect view to gaze upon as she made love to Rick.

  The dangerous things about such days, however, were how they messed with the mind. Sunshine always made romance feel more sincere. A bright breeze flowing through the open window could caress skin in ways people couldn’t. When Rick wrapped his arms around her from behind, guided her hips down to the bed, and entered her with a soft groan, Olivia felt herself become instantly connected with the nature swirling before them.

  Making love to such a view – and in such a lovely, safe room – would bring out the inner beast in anyone. I’m not a beast. I’m a cub. Especially with a handsome, charming man grabbing her by the hips and bringing her upon him in long, steady strokes that touched her deep inside and made her feel one with their world. There was urgency, desire, and understanding in the way he barbarically took her, allowing them both to gaze upon the serene view of one of South America’s most illustrious jewels.

  Facing something like that, Olivia could not fight back the feelings she buried deep within her heart. The ones that didn’t allow her to enjoy life as much as she should, due to her living situation and her desire to advance far in her career. Even moments like these with Rick could feel fleeting and hardly corporeal. Then Rick would put his hands on her, grabbing indiscriminately while his teeth nipped the nape of her neck and his hips slammed against hers. Olivia’s fingers gripped the edge of the bed, her hair obscuring her sight of the world beyond the window as impatient Rick pulled her leg up and took the last of her sanity.

  I wish every day could be like this. The beauty, the peace, and the thrusts of a man who knew what she liked and readily gave it to her. By now Olivia knew the signs of Rick’s impending climax, and the moment she felt his fingers dig into her thighs she knew she had about five seconds to fling herself into the chasm of orgasm.

  Neither of them was disappointed. As sunshine sparkled off the drifting surface of the sea, Olivia’s body burst in pleasure, her core the only part of her she cared about as Rick caressed it with his intimate touch and shared with her something none of his fans got to see.

  Olivia fell face first onto the bed, sweating, reeling in the endorphins flooding her skin as Rick gently eased out of her. He was still hard enough to rub against her rear, although that was quickly waning, and soon enough he situated himself on top of her, breath pulsing against her cheek as he kissed and promised her a better time in Argentina.

  I don’t want to go to Argentina right now. She wanted to stay there, where time had stopped and her heart was finally free to feel what it had been hiding all along.

  She loved him. As foolish as it was – as dangerous as it was – she loved Rick and dreaded the end of the tour. She wouldn’t be the one to end it. No matter how Rick spun it, they both knew that the reason they could never be together in their normal lives was because this relationship didn’t exist in their normal lives.

  Dancing. Flirting. Sex. What place did it have outside of their fabricated world of performance and hedonistic debauchery?

  6

  The Argentine sun was warm and bright the last day of Rick’s South American leg. After a sold out concert in Córdoba, everyone had two days off to spend as they liked before they were getting back on a plane for a long, long flight to London, where Rick would begin his comparatively humble European leg. Only the British and Germans want me. He was having a concert in Madrid as well, but the ticket numbers weren’t great, which surprised everyone but Thomas. “Just because you speak Spanish doesn’t mean they care about your bastardized American Spanish,” he grumbled at a business meeting. The concert stop hadn’t been canceled, but nobody was terribly optimistic.

  Rick could have spent his last day in South America with Olivia or even on his own, recharging while enjoying his mother’s homeland, but there was something more important. Yes, more important than that. He was spending his last evening with Fiona by taking her out to dinner in the hotel’s five-star restaurant, which served only the finest Argentinean food. Almost like how his mother used to make it.

  “You’re not eating your asado,” he said, picking up his fork and poking Fiona’s barbecued beef ribs. “You’re not going vegetarian on me, are you? You can’t do that in Argentina. Beef for everybody!” Growing up he always heard his mother complaining about the price of beef in the States compared to Argentina. When almost all of her recipes called for it, there was a problem.

  Fiona tried to smile, but Rick could tell she was not in the mood for frivolity. Ever since she got hurt in Rio, she hadn’t been herself. She still put in the effort at the shows, but José had altered the sets so she didn’t have to perform as much. Rick assumed that this had to do with her injury, even though the doctor on tour said she was fine to dance… for now. Everyone was being cryptic, and that sort of shit grinded Rick’s gears.

  “It’s delicious. Thanks for bringing me out tonight. I’m not feeling well today.”

  “You haven’t been feeling well a lot lately.” Fiona was prone to getting ill when traveling, but it usually wasn’t this bad. I don’t even want to sleep with her. I just want her to have a nice final night. She was returning to the States the next day while everyone else flew to Europe. “I’m sorry you have to leave the tour. It won’t be the same without you.” Who else would flirt mercilessly with him now? Besides Olivia, of course.

  “I’m sorry I have to go too. Things are going to be changing a lot around me. It’s a lot to take in at once…”

  Rick pushed his beef and chimichurri sauce around his plate. The condiment was a bit heavy on the garlic, but Rick wasn’t kissing anyone that night. Olivia had said she was going to bed early so she wouldn’t be too jet lagged when they arrived in London. “What’s going on? This has to be more serious than whiplash. If you can dance, you can surely keep touring…”

  “It’s not only that.” Fiona opened her mouth again, but no words came out. Only a heavy, hesitant breath that couldn’t have possibly smelled of the food she wasn’t eating. “I’ve got other problems I didn’t know about until I went to the hospital.”

  Now Rick’s wheels were turning inside his head. Disease? Disorder? What could be worse than a muscle injury? He had danced through worse. “Don’t tell me you have cancer.”

  “Oh hell no.” Finally, Fiona laughed, and it seemed heartfelt. Rick missed her humor and general liveliness. Whatever was afflicting her must be serious. “It’s nothing like that.”

  “Then what is it?”

  If he weren’t as close to Fiona as he was, Rick would have stayed out of it. Her business, after all. But he considered her a friend, and seeing her acting like this and having to give up on one of her dreams of touring around the world made him sad in turn. He would have felt the same about Olivia or even José, although that man probably had about five things making him a grumpaholic. If you don’t tell me what’s wrong, I’ll make something up.

  Fiona sighed. “I will have to tell you at some point. I might as well tell you now while we have some privacy.” And yet she looked around, making sure their private dining alcove was not overrun with paps or waiters. “I’m pregnant.”

  Rick kept chewing on his food, but the taste evaporated from his tongue. He couldn’t even feel the texture anymore. “Que?”

  “Whatever. You heard me. I found out at the hospital
that I’m almost in my second trimester. You know what that means, right?”

  Rick wasn’t a math wizard, but he could do it on the fly when part of his life was on the line. His brain calculated how long it had been since he and Fiona last had pre-marital relations. Twelve weeks? Thirteen? It was before he met Olivia, he knew that much. Before the tour. Not horribly long before the tour. “It’s been longer than that!”

  Fiona wasn’t going to play up his impending hysterics. I’m not hysterical. What man wanted to hear any implication like that, though? “Rick, I’m not saying you’re the father. It is a possibility. It’s either you or some other guy.”

  “What other guy?”

  She shrugged. Awfully nonchalant of her. “You don’t know him. Honestly. Don’t give me that look. You were seeing other women and I was seeing other men. For example, you were fooling around with Olivia, and I was fooling around with this guy. Who cares?”

  “You know about Olivia?”

  “I’m not stupid, Rick.” She snorted. “Apparently stupid enough to get pregnant though…”

  “You’re not stupid. It could happen to anybody.”

  “Yes, and it happened to me. And you might be the father. Don’t worry, I’ll get a paternity test before it’s born. You’ll have to comply, though. If it’s not yours, then hey! You’re off the hook. To be honest though, if it is yours, well…” The look Rick made must have given Fiona an ulcer, for she quickly said, “I don’t want to marry you, but I would need help. I’d want you to do right by your kid. This isn’t about your money either. I’m telling the other guy the same thing when I get home, and he lives with his damned mother. I won’t even tell anyone, least of all the media. I’d leave that up to you to decide.”

  “I can’t believe this…” Rick sat back in his seat, his food now as untouched as Fiona’s. No wonder she’s been acting this way. Getting ill… morning sickness. Not eating much… same thing. And no wonder she had to go home! They couldn’t have a pregnant woman on tour as a dancer. Rick was shocked she had finished the South American leg if she was that far along! He stared at her, trying to see a bump on her stomach, but could see nothing. “You’re saying I might be becoming a father. How am I supposed to take that?”

  Fiona tried to eat something, but the way she turned up her nose said she was more sensitive than usual. “I was going to wait until your tour was over to tell you, but now’s as good of a time as ever. Like I said, it might not be yours. Either way, I’ve gotta go home, and I guess it’s officially over between us.”

  It had been over for weeks, but Rick guessed she meant any chance of them hooking up again in the future. What’s that mean? That he wouldn’t find a new mother attractive? Not that Rick was suddenly interested because Fiona implied he wouldn’t be… “I don’t know what to say. Should I congratulate you? Console you? I can’t tell what you’re feeling.”

  “I don’t know what I’m feeling either. Indifferent, right now. I’m sort of in a strange place, physically and mentally. I’ll have a better idea of what I need to do and how I should feel about it when I get home. Please don’t let this upset the rest of your tour. Even if it is yours, there’s nothing you can do for me right now. Carry on as you would anyway.”

  Nothing he could do? At the very least he could give her money to go to a good doctor and get the best care. I’m going to do that anyway. Even if it wasn’t his, Fiona was someone he cared about and didn’t want to see suffer. Especially needlessly. He knew she was far from well-off, and who knew how her conservative, traditional family would take the news or support her. “You’ve caught me completely off guard. But if you need anything… and I mean anything… please tell me. I’ll give it without hesitation.” Money for doctors and diapers… DNA samples… a punch to the face of the other guy…

  “I don’t want to take from you, Rick. If it’s yours, that will be big enough of a shock.”

  “And if it’s mine, I want to make sure I do right by it.” He was still in shock, but not so much he couldn’t think rationally. “It’s as simple as that. Even if it’s not, that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be taken care of.”

  “Rick, I don’t want your money.”

  Only if it’s for sure mine, right? Rick could see the child support rolling in now. Not that he wouldn’t, but he didn’t have time to deal with someone being hypocritical. “Don’t argue. I’ll have Thomas or someone contact you about it. You’ll be fine. I’ll make sure of it.”

  Fiona crossed her legs and shook her head, as if Rick were someone to pity. “You’re a good guy. Really. I always knew you were, but I still wasn’t expecting this. Probably because I don’t think anyone owes me anything. I’m sorry this happened.”

  “Well, that’s the chance we take.” Now Rick was thinking of Olivia. She said she was on the pill, but how effective was it? Was she taking it correctly? Was she actually taking it at all? He knew those were irrational thoughts based on his current state of mind, but damnit, this was a huge thing! Should I tell Olivia? Why would he? They weren’t serious. They were friends fooling around, but how good of friends were they? Their entire relationship was based on sex right now. Their conversations were frivolous. Precursors to getting into bed. How well did he really know her? If he knocked her up too, what would happen? Anarchy. Rick would soon be known as the rock star who knocked up his dancing entourage.

  Dinner wasn’t the same after that. Rick’s spirits weren’t damaged, but his mind was running a mile a minute and he had little to show for it. Between that news bomb and traveling to Europe the next day, all he could think about as he saw Fiona off to her room was that come fatherhood or not, his life had changed forever.

  That sort of thing would color any man’s mind. Especially when he couldn’t afford to have a colored mind. So when Rick stepped off the plane in London and couldn’t get excited by the new sights and sounds, he knew he was screwed.

  Of course, the show must go on. That was the mantra even his mother espoused whenever she felt too ill or injured to teach her classes. She would hobble into her studio, attach a surgeon’s mask to her face, or prop herself up in a corner while she made her son yell instructions to paying customers, but by God she was always there getting the job done. Just because Rick might be a father sometime soon didn’t mean he couldn’t perform with the same gusto he always did.

  Indeed, it was easy going on stage in London and forgetting his troubles. His screaming fans – who held signs and blew kisses to him from the front row – had a way of purging his heart and filling it with the type of adoration superstars craved. The beats of his own music allowed him to dance the uncertainty out of his body. Tense muscles? What were those? When Rick had to ice his shoulder after the show, he thought nothing of it. It was worth the reset in his brain.

  The only thing keeping him from making a full recovery that tour was Olivia.

  It wasn’t her fault. She was merely existing. Rick hadn’t told her anything about what Fiona said – he hadn’t told anybody. Yet whenever Olivia appeared by his side on stage, ready for him to lift her into the air or dip her toward the floor, his heart caught in his chest, and it wasn’t because of love. Or maybe it was.

  Rick had no idea how he really felt. He was enjoying his stress free relationship with her. Dates, silly talks, and sex for as long as they could stand it. Half the time Olivia spent the night with him, and having her in his arms, his nose nestled in her perfumed hair were like tastes of Heaven. Rick wasn’t in a hurry to attach a word to these feelings. He had never been in love before, and he wasn’t in a hurry to experience it. I’m young and getting started in life. There was plenty of time to fall in love. Even if he may be a father in a few months. Even if his career came crashing down the next day. I don’t care. That was the big bonus of still being young. He could afford not to care.

  Except Olivia kept reminding him of things he didn’t want to think about. Like sleeping around. Becoming a father. Having to hold himself up to a higher standard than he had befo
re. Like I said, it’s not her fault. Olivia had no idea this was going through Rick’s head. She didn’t have to know.

  But Olivia was a perceptive woman. That night after the concert in London, when she came up to his room to laugh about that one crazy fan who tried to throw herself on stage only to have security “escort” her out, she noticed that Rick was a bit more somber than usual. “Is it your shoulder?” she asked, and took the ice off his bare chest to massage his muscles. Under normal circumstances Rick would grin to have this sort of attention, but he was hoping to have time that night to brood in silence.

  “Just a bit more tired than usual. You know, all that jet lag plus putting on a concert. Should probably go to bed early.”

  Again, Olivia was perceptive. She knew right away what Rick meant by that. “It’s okay. I’m tired too. Maybe I should go back to my room.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m a bit preoccupied right now.”

  Olivia swung her legs over his lap and wrapped her long arms around his neck. Her nose was only inches away from his, and Rick was not impressed to feel himself react in a positive way between the legs. “Maybe I could help you be preoccupied with something else.”

  Against his better judgment, Rick took her up on that offer.

  The last thing he should be doing was anything related to sex. With a woman. Of child-bearing age. For all Rick knew he was as fertile as Mesopotamia. His lusty high was almost eradicated when he imagined having two pregnant lovers. Somewhere, Thomas was freezing up, his Manager Issues alarm going off as he wondered what Rick was getting tangled up in this time.