by Jess Dee
Dedication
To the ladies of International Heat, for being my 88 inches of therapy wrapped around me.
To Dawn, for all her awesome suggestions and help.
To Kitty Kelly and Fedora, for their never-ending support and insight.
And as always, to Jennifer, for holding my hand through this one, waiting patiently until I finally found the story and then improving it.
Chapter One
I have a song to sing with you,
Believe these words we know are true.
Feel it in the rhythm of your heart,
See the time your love will start.
She’s out there now, quietly waiting,
Red hair, green eyes…fascinating.
Appearances fool, you have been warned,
Follow your instinct, don’t be torn.
-Edna Pace’s lullaby for Zachary
Zachary Pace rolled his shoulders, linked his fingers together, turned his palms outward and stretched his arms, flexing each muscle. With his eyes closed, he let the rhythm of the synthesizer flow through him, feeling the music all the way down to his toes.
He inhaled the summer Melbourne air as the cheers of the crowd seeped into his soul, then stepped onstage with his little brother, Seth.
The audience roared, shaking the wooden platform upon which they stood. Shrill screams pierced the late-afternoon sky and a pair of panties landed at his feet—alongside a ribbon-bound bunch of scarlet roses, a scatter of foil-covered chocolate hearts and a massive, printed marriage proposal.
Zachary grinned, pumped his fist in the air and became one with his alter ego, Jonah Speed.
This was where he belonged, where he thrived: on stage, before thousands of screaming fans. Every clap reverberated through his body. He ran across the platform to take a seat on his throne behind his drums.
Never had a term been more expressive, for when Jonah sat behind those drums, he became king. King of the Stage, King of Rock, King of Music.
He grabbed his sticks and struck his snare drum.
Game on.
His little brother twanged a note on his electric guitar, turned and grinned at Jonah, and in perfect synch, the two began to play “Thunder ’n Rain”, their current worldwide number-one hit.
If the crowd had exploded when he and Seth—better known to the public as Jordan Speed—walked on stage, it went insane now. The boom of Jonah’s bass drum shook the stadium but was almost drowned out by shouts of excitement.
The cries reached fever pitch as Nathan, Jonah’s older brother—or Jamie Speed—made his entrance. Jamie’s golden voice rang out pure and true, the magnificent timbre resonating across the arena.
Arms and hands rocked the air, the applause and yells became thunderous…and then…dropped—as they always did when the full impact of Jamie’s voice made itself known. As manic as the audience was, Jamie’s dulcet tones lulled them into mass ecstasy. A writhing mass of ecstasy, their facial expressions filled with awed bliss.
Jonah inhaled as he beat his drums and cymbals, setting the tempo of the song while blending in seamlessly with his fellow band members. The throb of his beloved instruments once again became the heartbeat of the music, the pulse of Speed.
The song ended and he began another, but not before Jamie seduced the crowd with words of welcome, encouraging them to belt out lyrics. The Melbourne audience needed no persuasion. With natural exuberance, they whooped, cheered, sang and danced with gusto.
Jonah let their infectious mania carry him from one song to the next, feeding the crowd’s desires, whipping them into a frenzy and rocking them into the evening. As the sun lowered in the sky, he lost himself to the magical atmosphere, to the yells and the screams and the music. To the invigorating Melbourne air. Sweat slid down his back, his muscles stretched and flexed, and adrenaline pumped through his blood, taking him on a trip more potent than any chemical-induced high.
His exhilaration only increased as a love-struck Jamie performed his solo, playing his piano and staring offstage at the woman who’d captured his heart so completely. The audience couldn’t see her, but Jonah could, and she looked as besotted with Jamie as he did with her.
Jonah set his sticks down and leaned back against his throne, breathing heavily, grateful for the short break. He glugged down a bottle of water. Like every other person in the stadium, he watched his brother, rapt. While Jamie’s hands flew over the keys of his baby grand, Nathan had eyes only for the blond-haired beauty. He seemed oblivious to the crowd.
Despite the heat throbbing through Jonah’s veins, Zachary’s heart twanged. That was what he wanted. A woman to enchant him, someone who’d capture his heart fully and not let go.
The woman his grandmother had assured him was his fate?
As Jamie’s ballad ended and the band picked up the pace, Jonah once again lost himself to the beat. For the next forty minutes he was one with the fans and the music, seamlessly transitioning from one song to the next. Both the audience and his heart pumped in time to the rhythm of his drums.
And when the concert wrapped up and they played their final encore, Jonah twirled his sticks and beat his cymbal for the last time that night. He walked across the stage to stand beside his brothers, bowing and waving. Sweat had his hair plastered to his face, and his T-shirt was drenched. Jamie and Jordan were just as wet.
The crowd didn’t care. It cheered louder and louder.
With a broad grin, Jonah bent over and picked up the marriage proposal and two red roses from the stage floor. The original bunch had long since been crushed beneath Jordan and Jamie’s feet, but hundreds more flowers had landed on stage during the concert.
He left the wrapped chocolate hearts and panties. Chocolates because they held no appeal and the panties because that particular kind of offering wasn’t always in pristine condition. While under the right circumstances, a worn pair of panties could be incredibly sexy, those thrown on stage by a stranger were…not.
He brought one of the roses to his mouth, kissed it and smiled at the audience. His name echoed through the night air, screamed by a chorus of hysterical feminine voices.
“We love you, Jonah!”
He loved them too. Every one of them.
And God, at times like this, he loved being Jonah Speed.
He dropped an arm around his little brother’s shoulders, and the two of them walked offstage, each accepting a towel to wipe down their sweat-dampened faces and heads.
Nathan already stood in the wings with Sophie all wrapped up in his arms.
Zachary handed the marriage proposal over to Luke Struthers, Speed’s band manager and his best buddy.
Luke accepted it with a smile and a shake of his head. “Another one?”
Zachary grinned back. “I’m the man. What can I say?”
Luke raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”
He laughed out loud. “To a marriage proposal from someone I’ve never met?”
“Maybe it’ll put an end to the self-imposed restrictions?”
Zachary winced. Yeah. Not ready to go there yet. Not ready to end those restrictions. He might not have been laid in six long months, but for now that suited him fine.
Except maybe for the adrenaline pumping through his body, making him horny as hell.
But he had a valid reason for his restrictions. One—or four—this-is-your-baby scandals had been enough to send Zachary’s gonads into hiding for a very long time.
Of course the accusations had proven to be complete bullshit. Still, they’d been a nasty wake-up call. Forced him to evaluate his life and his behavior. Forced him to see that the meaningless encounters and faceless fucks he’d grown so accustomed to were not what he wanted. And they
were not making him happy.
Zachary wanted the real deal—the red-haired beauty he’d fantasized about since childhood.
Or if not her, at least a woman he cared about.
He was happy for Nathan, but that didn’t stop Zachary from eyeing him enviously. “I may be under restriction, but my big brother sure isn’t.”
“I might need a crowbar to pry those two apart,” Luke commented dryly, but his tone was indulgent.
Zachary let his gaze sweep over the people standing around. The entire backstage crew had paused to watch Jamie and Sophie, who were so enchanted with each other, they didn’t notice. Every one of them beamed, as though they found Nathan’s delight as infectious as Zachary and Luke did.
His gaze snagged on a particularly adorable smile. One made by cherry-red lips stretched wide across a lovely face.
Bam.
Lust hit him square in the chest.
His adrenaline rush hit an all-time high.
Okay, so maybe his gaze hadn’t been snagged by the smile. Maybe he’d subconsciously sought it out, just like he’d found himself doing since arriving in Sydney a week ago and meeting the Aussie crew.
Zachary didn’t know her name—yet. He’d made a conscious effort not to think about her, because thinking about her did those self-imposed restrictions no good whatsoever. What he did know was that each time he saw her he couldn’t look away. The sight of the tiny brunette packed a punch louder than the boom of a drum and more potent than the energy of the twenty thousand fans packed into the Rod Laver Arena.
If Zachary could have sat back down on his throne and hauled her with him, he would have. In a heartbeat. Would have stripped every last stitch of clothing from her lithe body, pulled her onto his lap and let her take them for the ride of their lives.
But that would hardly fit in with the revamped, sexually restrained Jonah Speed, now would it?
Something must have alerted her to his focused attention, because her gaze shifted, leaving Nathan and Sophie and landing firmly on him. Her lovely features reflected surprise, and after a couple of seconds, Zachary swore he saw a flicker of interest as well.
Satisfaction pooled deep in his stomach.
It had been a long while since he’d felt this level of attraction to anyone. A long time since he’d wanted a woman to consciously want him like he wanted her.
He’d grown altogether too used to the availability of a soft body whenever he desired one—or two. Groupies willing to offer whatever Zachary wanted. Sex with them had long since ceased to provide the satisfaction or the high it once had. Sex with them had long since stopped. Period. While he searched for something more meaningful, all they craved was a fix of the superstar, not the real man.
Zachary acted on impulse. “I’ll be right back.”
Luke answered, but Zachary didn’t register his words. He was too intent on his target.
Her cheeks pinked as he approached, and her chest rose and fell rapidly, but she watched every step, and her eyes filled with questions as he neared. Her scent filtered through his nose like a morning breeze, fresh and floral and arousing as hell.
She raised an eyebrow, highlighting blue eyes that resembled a spring sky—cloudless, with the promise of the heat to come.
Beautiful.
Her gaze held him rapt. Zachary couldn’t look away, didn’t want to look anywhere but at her.
The intensity of his stare must have made her uncomfortable, because after a moment she flinched uneasily. “Can I help you?”
Oh, yeah. She could help him…so long as she got them both naked in the next three seconds.
Restraint, Pace. Remember?
“Uh, are you okay?” she asked curiously.
Too busy devouring her stunning features with his gaze, Zachary didn’t answer.
She flinched again. “You’re looking at me as though…” The words stumbled and died. “Oh, shit.” Her mouth formed a perfect “O” and her eyes widened dramatically. “I have something on my face, don’t I?” She brushed at her cheeks. “Crumbs? Lipstick? Mascara on my chin?”
Bemused, Zachary shook his head. Her face was perfect. So was her Australian accent.
She frowned, then quickly clamped her mouth shut before opening it again, only this time her lips covered her teeth. “Somesing in my teef? A pieth of food?”
Again Zachary shook his head, incredulous that she could pull such a ridiculous face yet still look so pretty.
She breathed an audible sigh of relief.
“Okay. Then…what? Do you need makeup, maybe?” But she was already shaking her head as her gaze roved over his features. One look was enough to tell her makeup was not his thing.
“No.”
“Ah, he talks.”
Zachary grinned.
“Look, mate. You realize you’re freaking me out a bit here, just staring at me… Oh, Lord, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Not a ghost, no.” Although Zachary was struck by a strange sense of déjà vu. Something about her seemed so…familiar.
“Then what?” She held her hands up in question. “Are you going to explain why you’re looking at me like that?”
“You reminded me of my grandmother, for a minute there.” An image of Edna, his grandmother, flittered through his mind.
She frowned. “I’m twenty-five and I remind you of your grandmother? That cannot be a good thing.”
The chuckle he emitted was belly deep. “You reminded me about something she taught me,” he amended.
“Your nan taught you to stare at women until they squirm awkwardly on the spot?”
“No. She taught me to always appreciate the beauty in the world around me. And right now, I’m pretty damn sure I’m looking at the most beautiful part of Australia.”
Her jaw dropped. “P-pardon?”
Her accent made the word sound like puh-din.
“I’m looking at you, thinking you are, without a doubt, the most stunning part of Australia.” He hesitated just a second, then caught her delicate arm in his hand, aware of how large his fingers looked as they wrapped around her wrist.
He pressed the two roses into her palm. “For you. Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman. Consider it my way of expressing my appreciation.”
Before a startled Eve Andrews had time to react to the drummer’s presence and unexpected gift, Jonah Speed turned around and headed back in the direction he’d come. He’d stared at her through his startling green eyes, called her beautiful, given her the flowers, blown her world clear off its axis and then walked away.
Just walked away.
What the…?
Eve blinked through her surprise and stared dumbfounded at the roses. She didn’t see them. All she saw were those eyes, so incredibly green they didn’t seem real. So incredibly arousing, she suspected she’d seen the promise of fulfillment of a million carnal fantasies in them.
Her heart beat jaggedly. Just as well he hadn’t hung around to chat further. Breathlessness rendered her incapable of speech.
Jonah Speed had just called her beautiful.
Her. Of all people. The irony was enough to inspire hysterical laughter. It bubbled in her chest, but she bit it back.
Photographs and movie clips did Jonah little justice. On paper and onscreen he was criminally sexy. In real life, drop-dead gorgeous didn’t adequately describe him. Heart-stopping, breathtaking, toe-curling, goose-bump-inducing…
Nope. Even those words weren’t powerful enough. They didn’t capture the essence of his blistering appeal.
His aura still held her frozen to the spot. Frozen, but heating up with every second that passed. And it wasn’t just the fact that he was Jonah Speed.
Speed’s drummer, Jonah Speed. The man Rolling Stone Magazine had described as a rock legend, drummer extraordinaire and lethal lady magnet.
Hands-down the sexiest rock star in the world, Jonah Speed.
No, it wasn’t his superstardom that had her awed. It was just him. His very
presence.
She raised her eyes to watch him walk away. He had his back to her, and his damp T-shirt stretched taut across shoulders broader than a football field. Even from behind, he oozed sex appeal. It radiated off him in waves.
Her stomach curled in around itself, capturing millions of tiny butterflies fluttering wildly about within.
The crewmembers milling backstage stopped to watch Jonah approach his brothers and their band manager. More than one audible intake of air echoed through her ears as he walked by, confirming they too were struck by his tangible sexuality.
Eve’s heart raced like a hummingbird’s wings.
For long seconds she held the roses, stunned. These flowers had been tossed to Jonah by his rabid fans. From her view in the wings backstage, she’d seen the face of one woman who’d thrown roses, seen the star-struck adoration in her expression, the desperation to be noticed.
Could one of these roses be from her?
Eve was pretty sure when the roses were first offered to Jonah, they’d been fresher than they were now. Although still striking, the petals had wilted, their edges turning black. When she raised the flowers to her nose to sniff their delicate fragrance, she found none.
Her gaze returned to Jonah. He stood with the band, listening to whatever Luke Struthers was telling them. At regular intervals one or other of the Speed brothers nodded, commented or looked in the direction Luke pointed.
Goose bumps erupted over her skin.
Even in work mode, Jonah stood out. His presence made Eve want to tug at her shirt—yank it over her shoulders and present herself naked to the enthralling sex god.
Stunned by her impulses, she ran a calming hand gently over the left side of her face, from her forehead down to her neck.
It calmed her not at all.
Her interaction with Jonah had lasted a minute, maybe two, yet it had left her with an unexpected hunger.
A desperate, greedy need for more.
Shaking off temptation and grounding herself firmly in reality—the same reality where she was just a regular person and she hadn’t been given half-dead roses by Jonah Speed—she turned back to the table behind her and finished packing her portable makeup box with trembling hands.