Beautiful Devil: The Rockstar Duet (Book 1)

by Sharlyn G. Branson

  The blonde went over to Ryan and grasped his hand. “Are you okay? Mike told me you were at the hospital… I was so worried.”

  “Mom, everything’s fine. Meet my girlfriend—Emily.” He turned to me. “Emily, this is my mom, Susan.”

  The blonde hugged me warmly, telling me how nice it was to finally meet me.

  After she was finished, Mike took a step toward me. “Hello, gorgeous.” Just as he went to kiss me on the cheek, Ryan pulled me out of his arms. “Show my woman some respect, Mike.”

  Mike flinched and gave him a surprised look.

  “I don’t like you sniffing around my mother. Don’t you have some younger piece of ass to entertain you?”

  “Ryan, please,” Susan implored him, her voice shaking. She put her fingers over her lips to suppress the tears welling in her eyes. It was clear his words had made her uncomfortable even though she knew her son hadn’t meant to offend her. On the contrary, he’d only wanted to protect her.

  Mike Falkers was a big womanizer, but could he really blamed for it? What if he’d found the right woman in Susan? The woman who’d impressed him so deeply that others no longer attracted him?

  Falkers put his arm around Susan and pulled her tight to him. After gently kissing her on the temple, he replied, “I probably fully deserve your negative attitude, Ryan. I know you don’t trust me when it comes to women, and I’m not judging you for it. My past is what it is and can’t be erased. But coming from you, it’s a bit like the pot calling the kettle black. You treat women the same as I do.” The two men stared at each other furiously, flames seemingly coming out of their eyes. “Emily means a lot to you and Susan means a lot to me. And like it or not, I won’t let you meddle in our relationship and won’t allow you to come between us.”

  Ryan took a step forward. “How long, Mike? How long do you intend to use my mother as your latest toy? Don’t you think she’s been through enough? And now you want to cause her more suffering?”

  It appeared that the two men might get into a fight. Fortunately, there was nobody in the parking lot to put on a show for. Still, avoiding a brawl would be the best outcome.

  I rushed to put my arms around Ryan’s waist, placing one of my hands on his chest. Every last muscle of his body was as taut as a wire. “Please, calm down.”

  Mike countered, “I could ask you the same question. Why do you think you are any different from me?”

  “Because unlike you, I have self-awareness and know that I’m capable of appreciating a good woman,” Ryan said, narrowing his eyes.

  “And I don’t know how to judge who’s the right woman for me? Is that what you’re saying?”

  Ryan took another step forward and I grabbed his T-shirt in my fist. I couldn’t let them get into a fight. They had to cool their anger. If they fell out, they wouldn’t only create huge problems for the band, but they’d also hurt Susan. Ryan loved her and wanted to protect her, but he didn’t have the right to act as if he was the father and she was the teenage daughter.

  Susan also joined my efforts to relieve the tension by changing the subject. “Ryan, it’d be really nice if Emily and you came to my house for dinner tomorrow. I’ll make you your favorite: mac and cheese, and chocolate cake for dessert.”

  “Mom, I’m no longer a kid and stopped being one a long time ago.”

  In response to his words, Susan’s eyes filled with tears. She tried to suppress them, but failed. Large drops slid down her gentle face. She wiped them with her fingers and looked away, her lips trembling from emotion.

  Realizing his mistake, Ryan quickly added, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. Of course, we’ll come. Is seven okay?”

  She nodded and tried to smile.

  Mike pressed Susan tighter in his arms, looking at her with such love that chills ran down my spine. He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.

  “Get your filthy paws off her,” Ryan hissed in his face.

  Why couldn’t he see past Mike’s previous failing and face the truth?

  Susan was important to his manager. In fact, I wouldn’t be lying if I said he was in love with her. That look of his couldn’t be construed in any other way.

  Susan raised her chin and stared at her son, eyes filled with deep sadness. “Don’t I deserve to be happy, too?”

  Various emotions flashed across Ryan’s face: anger, sadness, love. “Of course you do, but he isn’t capable of making you happy. In the end, all you’ll be left with is disappointment.”

  Mike hugged her even tighter, if that was actually possible, in attempt to protect her and his position, “Why don’t we let the future prove you wrong?”

  16

  Emily

  More than two weeks had passed since Jamie was discharged from the hospital. Weeks during which I spent every night at Ryan’s house. I went back to my apartment only to pick up clean clothes and check on my cat. Fortunately, Travis and Misty were happy to take care of her while I was away.

  We didn’t go to Susan’s for dinner. She called to cancel, because she had a really bad migraine.

  Sometimes Jamie came to Wild Angels after school. I felt calmer seeing he’s okay. Ryan had got him a blood sugar sensor with an alarm. Its catheter could be covered with different patches—the American flag, the Smurfs, Tom and Jerry, etc. It was even possible to order a French flag patch online. When Jamie’s arrived, he stuck it on and proudly showed it off to me.

  The fact that Ryan and I spent as much time as possible together significantly strengthened our relationship. We got to know each other better and adjusted to each other’s habits. Every morning before work, he’d go down to his gym for half an hour to work out. After he’d had a shower, we’d have breakfast together and then go to work.

  Whenever he didn’t have important meetings, he’d take me out for lunch or dinner at some nearby restaurant. We avoided eating in Wild Angels, and if we ended up doing so, we’d have the food brought to his office. Neither of us wanted our coworkers to overhear our conversations. It was no secret to anyone that we were in a relationship, but we preferred to keep our personal and professional lives separate.

  I liked falling asleep in Ryan’s arms, pressed against his warm body. It was easy living with him. I believed anyone in my shoes would’ve felt in seventh heaven, surrounded by so much attention.

  I couldn’t protect myself from the emotions I felt. I was in love with him, and with every passing hour, my feelings for Ryan became deeper and deeper.

  One night, I couldn’t fall asleep, depressed by dark thoughts that jostled around my head and wouldn’t give me peace. I lay in the bed of my beloved, my head resting on his chest. Listening to the even rhythm of his heart, I tried to see into the future.

  Propping myself up on my elbow, I gazed at Ryan. He seemed so peaceful in his slumber. His lips were slightly parted, inviting me to kiss them. My stomach tightened in desire, so I sank my nails into my palms to suppress the urge to dig my fingers into his silky hair, to caress his bulging pecs, to slide my fingers along his powerful biceps covered in tattoos.

  Ryan was sheer perfection, because a good heart was hiding behind his sublime masculinity. He was a strong and, at the same time, very sensitive man. I wanted to keep him mine forever, but that seemed impossible. We were far too young. A man like Ryan, who enjoyed so much female attention, was unlikely to seriously consider starting a family and having kids before hitting forty. Having seen how important Susan was to his manager, Mike, I could imagine them staying together forever, but Mike was much older.

  It’s not that I didn’t feel Ryan’s love for me. However, he was so young—only twenty-seven years old—and so famous. No matter how much I wanted it, I couldn’t picture us still being together in ten years.

  At times like this, I felt so alone and longed for my family back home.

  I got out of bed, trying to be quiet, so I wouldn’t wake him up. I slipped on one of his T-shirts and picked up my cell from the nightstand. I closed the bedroom door, so he wouldn�
��t hear me, and dialed my grandparents’ home number in France.

  My brother picked up. “Sis, shouldn’t you be asleep at this hour?” he asked and, without waiting for my reply, continued his questioning, “Are you in a club?”

  A lump formed in my throat, constricting my airflow. I missed Fabien a lot. “I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to call you. How are you?”

  “Everything’s fine. I know you worry about me, but you really shouldn’t. I am no longer a child and can take care of myself and my diabetes.”

  “How are your levels?” I was always concerned about him, but after everything that had happened to Jamie, my fears had heightened. I wasn’t interested in how he was doing in school. My brother was really smart and schoolwork was a cakewalk for him. I was sure that one day he’d become a senior executive at some bank or big multinational company. But his health was always a source of concern for me.

  “Speaking of that damn blood sugar, my legs feel tired. Hold on while I check it.” I heard the familiar beep of the device, and soon after, Fabien said between mouthfuls, “My blood sugar is low, so I’m having a piece of chocolate.”

  “It’d be healthier if you had some juice or a piece of fruit—”

  “Pfft… Don’t start like Grandma. I’ll eat whatever the hell I want,” he replied stubbornly.

  It wasn’t easy to have diabetes at thirteen, when hormones are surging though your body and giving you wild mood swings, but Fabien was doing relatively well and wasn’t causing too much trouble.

  “Okay, okay, cool your boots. Do you want me to buy you and Grandma tickets to Miami?” There was no point in mentioning my grandfather, since he always refused to fly.

  “No.”

  “No? What do you mean ‘no’?” His response came as a surprise. On his last visit, Fabien had liked Florida’s hot weather and relaxed atmosphere so much, he’d even wanted to move to Miami to live with me. So, what was up with him now?

  “I just don’t. You come to see us instead. I can’t.”

  While we were talking, I went downstairs to the living room I settled comfortably in an armchair and asked, “Why?”

  “Because unlike you, I’m not waiting to get old until I decide to have a girlfriend.”

  His words didn’t offend me at all—on the contrary, they made me laugh. “You have a girlfriend?”

  “Yes, but… she doesn’t know we’re a couple yet.”

  I laughed so hard my sides were in danger of splitting. I decided to tease him a little. “You better hurry and tell her, so she doesn’t get confused and say someone else is her boyfriend.”

  “She won’t. She only has eyes for me.”

  “Are you talking to your sister? Let me talk to her,” I heard my grandmother say.

  “I’m passing you to the overseer.”

  My grandmother, Chantal, retorted, “I’ll give you a nice overseer on the back of the neck.” After a brief pause, she addressed me, “Emily, honey, how are you?”

  “Everything’s fine. I couldn’t sleep and decided to call you.”

  “Are you having problems?”

  It was hard lying to her, but I decided against mentioning Jamie’s fainting. She knew him and, like me, had come to adore him.

  “No, I had a coffee earlier. That’s why I can’t sleep,” I lied.

  “How’s work? I want you to stay away from your boss. That playboy… What’s his name again?”

  I laughed. “Ryan Wilder.”

  “Yeah, him. You can never trust a man with tattoos. Especially such a handsome one.”

  I stood up from the sofa and went out to the pool. Night lights illuminated the water in red and blue, tempting me to go in for a swim. Sitting on the edge, I dipped my feet in the cool liquid.

  “Hmm… It’s strange you consider Travis a nice boy, even though he also has tattoos.”

  “Travis is the exception to the rule.”

  So, that’s how it is. I smiled, knowing she didn’t have any idea how much of a womanizer he was. Clearly, my roomie had somehow managed to win her over.

  “With the risk of repeating myself, stay away from that Ryan.”

  “What do you have against him?” When had she managed to find the time to research him?

  “I had a look at his photos in Google. He’s with a different girl in every single one. I’m telling you, child, he’s the devil incarnate. His eyes may be as beautiful as an angel’s, but he’s dangerous. Keep your distance and don’t get involved with him. Knowing how pretty you are, I’m sure he already has his eye on you.”

  “Grandma… Come on now.” To her, I was prettiest girl in the world.

  “You have to call a spade a spade. You’re beautiful, and he’s definitely noticed you.”

  I swung my legs in the water. “So, you do find him attractive.”

  “Oh, yes… That playboy is very manly. One handsome devil. I may be old, but I’m not dead yet.”

  “Woman, have you lost your mind? Stop filling the child’s head with nonsense,” I heard a voice say in the distance. It was my granddad—Jean-Paul. “Say hi to her from me instead.”

  “Your granddad says—”

  “Hi, yes, I heard him. Give him a kiss from me.”

  “Hmm, he doesn’t deserve one,” she said sharply.

  “Grandma, don’t say that.”

  Their marriage hadn’t been easy. Chantal and Jean-Paul argued all the time. Mom always said her father had ruined her life by throwing her out of the house. I never found out whether that was true or if she’d decided to leave France for the States herself.

  “Fabien, did you measure your sugar?” Grandma shouted. She was so loud I had to pull the phone away from my ears, so she wouldn’t deafen me. “Jean-Paul, tell the boy to measure his sugar.”

  “Stop ordering me around. I always do your work,” Granddad yelled back.

  “You never help with anything around the house. He’s your grandson, too, and you have to look after him.”

  Their exchange might seem funny from the outside, but it was actually horrible living in an atmosphere of constant fighting.

  Granddad had a difficult character and suffered from depression. He refused to take anti-depressants and never stopped repeating that we were cursed. His condition had deteriorated even more after my brother had been diagnosed with diabetes. It was unbearable being around him. He’d rarely help Grandma and would constantly complain that he’d never be able to afford to buy his own home. His ominous prophecies hadn’t come true and they’d managed to acquire an old house in Provence, which they’d renovated before moving in.

  As a child, I’d adored going on walks—admiring the beautiful fields covered in lavender, breathing in the fresh air, heavy with the scent of flowers, and enjoying the songs of the countless birds that hid in the tree branches. I liked the life in Miami, but France had kept a piece of my heart, which would belong to it forever.

  Despite our relatively peaceful life in Provence, his depression had worsened. He’d turned into even more of a complainer. Sometimes, I wondered how Grandma managed to stand him. It couldn’t be easy living with a man who never helped around the house, shouted whenever my brother and I left a mess of toys in the living room, and never stopped saying he was dying even though he didn’t suffer from any disease.

  “Grandma, Fabien had low sugar. He measured it while we were talking. Don’t worry though, he had some chocolate.”

  “God, I feel so exhausted from having to deal with that diabetes of his.”

  “I know and I’m sorry I’m not there to help you out.” My guilty conscience was killing me.

  “Don’t be sorry. It was me who made you leave. There are no opportunities for you to grow in Provence. I love you, child. Believe in yourself and you’ll make it very far.”

  I laughed. Grandma was the only person, other than Travis, who really thought I was talented and could make it.

  When I hung up the phone, I noticed Ryan was leaning on the doorframe, drinking me in with his e
yes. All he had on was a pair of boxers. With his arms crossed in front of his chest, his biceps bulged out even more than usual. His belly had a clearly defined six-pack. I got the urge to run my tongue across it.

  But it was the look in his eyes that took my breath away. He was gazing at me with awe and great love.

  “Have I ever told you how gorgeous you are?” His thumb slowly slid across his lower lip. I wanted so badly to bite and suck it.

  He must’ve guessed what I was thinking, because he gave me a smile that would’ve melted the heart of any woman. Stunned, I almost slipped into the pool.

  “How long have you been standing there?” I hoped he hadn’t been listening to my conversation for a long time. How had I not noticed him earlier?

  He took his time before he replied, “I don’t understand any French, but I think I heard my name.”

  I frowned. I didn’t want Ryan to know we’d discussed him. But then I decided to share what we’d said anyway. “My grandmother, Chantal, doesn’t like men with tattoos.”

  His face was beaming when he asked, “You told her we are together?”

  I’d meant to do it, but hadn’t managed to muster up the courage. I didn’t want to give her another reason to worry. Fabien’s problems were enough of a handful. “No, I didn’t tell her.”

  His face fell, the smile disappearing.

  Leaning back on my hand, I put my cell down on the grass and added, “She told me to stay away from you. But I don’t intend to listen to her this time.” I gave him the sweetest smile I had to reduce the tension. Did it work? I wasn’t too sure.

  Even though he was in his boxers, Ryan entered the pool and waded over to me. He positioned himself between my legs and murmured, “So, when I meet her, I’ll have to put in a lot of effort to make her like me.”

  Hmm, that sounded quite serious.

  He stroked my thighs with wet palms. “Do you think I’ll be able to get her on my side?” He leaned forward and ran the tip of his nose along the sensitive skin of my neck, sending shivers down my spine.