Harts of Arizona Series

by Yahrah St. John

  Chapter 2

  Kenya James awoke with a start to the sun streaming through the blinds. She was in Lucas Kingston’s bed. How the hell had she gotten here?

  Oh yes, she’d let her sister Chynna talk her into switching places with her. Kenya had returned to Los Angeles in Chynna’s place and she’d resumed not only her concert tour, but acting in her first movie. Kenya hadn’t thought she could do it, but somehow she’d convinced all the people who swarmed about Chynna’s everyday life, from her manager, Deacon Clark, to her publicist, Fiona, to her assistant, Penelope, that she was really Chynna. No one had given her grief except one: Eli Ross. Part owner of R&K Records, Eli couldn’t understand the personality shift and had been watching Kenya closely. And then there was the other half of R&K Records—Lucas.

  Kenya glanced down at Lucas, in bed beside her. Last night, they’d slept together. What had she been thinking? Kenya smiled. She hadn’t been. She’d been going off instinct, primal instinct.

  For the last few weeks since she’d been imitating Chynna, she and Lucas had been circling each other like cats in heat. The attraction between the two of them had been instant from the moment he’d been waiting for her inside the limo when he’d personally come to Arizona to bring “Chynna” back to LA. Kenya had tried to resist the pull even though they’d shared more than one passionate kiss on occasion, but Lucas had been so damn persistent.

  Last night, he’d shown up at her doorstep unannounced, determined to take her out for dinner. One thing had led to another, and now here she was in his bed. She tried to crawl out, but Lucas’s arm was sprawled across her middle, and as soon as she moved, Lucas stirred beside her. In the cold light of day, Kenya couldn’t regret the night she’d spent making love with Lucas. It had been everything her previous sexual encounters had lacked. Exciting. Passionate. Thrilling.

  But Kenya did realize that it might not have been the wisest decision to go to bed with him given she was imitating her sister. Lucas had no idea that she was Chynna’s twin. He thought she was the superstar singer he’d always thought was a spoiled princess but had suddenly transformed. He had no idea who she truly was because she hadn’t had the courage to tell him the truth. And she wanted to, but she was caught between a rock and a hard place. She couldn’t be honest with Lucas without revealing Chynna’s secret.

  Slowly, Kenya slid out of Lucas’s grasp and nearly fell on the floor, but she managed to catch herself before waking Lucas up. Kenya rose and looked down at his sleeping form. He was sleeping so soundly that she wished she could snuggle back up next to him and forget the world existed, but she couldn’t.

  Kenya picked up her clothes strewn across Lucas’s bedroom and one of her shoes. Glancing around her back, she saw that Lucas hadn’t awoken, and she quickly went to dress in his spare bathroom. Kenya looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was tousled, her skin bright and her lips swollen from Lucas’s kisses. Why couldn’t life be easy?

  She’d promised Chynna that she would trade places with her and allow her sister the time to figure out her life. The funny thing was, Kenya had discovered something about herself. She’d learned that she liked the limelight just as much as Chynna and, more importantly, that she was just as talented.

  Kenya opened the bathroom door and tiptoed out of his bedroom without Lucas hearing a sound. She found her other shoe in the hall and put it and the other on her feet. She hated creeping out in the wee hours of the morning and taking the walk of shame, but there was no way around it. She couldn’t go back on her word. If she told Lucas the truth, it would blow Chynna’s world apart. She had to stay true to the course despite how much it might hurt her in the end, and despite the fact that she was starting to fall in love with Lucas Kingston. Opening the front door, Kenya walked out into the morning sun.

  Lucas awoke half an hour later and reached across for Chynna only to find the bed empty beside him. He sat up and looked around the room and then to the bathroom door, but didn’t hear a sound. Had she really snuck out of his bed like a thief in the night?

  Lucas threw off the covers in a huff and walked buck naked into his bathroom. He walked into his ceramic tiled shower and turned on the taps. He stepped under the pulsating hot water and let it rain on him. He thought they’d shared some pretty damn good sex. He’d made sure he’d satisfied her several times throughout the course of the night both inside her and when he used his mouth and tongue to bring her to a finger-curling scream of an orgasm. He’d dreamt of making love to her again this morning and burying himself deep within her tight sheath. He’d been surprised just how tight she’d been and when she’d clenched her muscles around him, he’d become unglued, groaning and moaning her name as his hands tugged at her hair. It had been the best sex he’d ever had.

  Lucas splashed water over his face to wake himself out of his daze, but he felt no more alert and couldn’t understand what could have happened to change Kenya from the sexual being he’d made love to back into the scared woman he’d been courting for weeks. He was determined to find out. Lucas wasn’t going to allow Chynna’s fear to get in the way of something great happening between them. Last night had just been the start.

  Having been driven to Lucas’s in his Ferrari, Kenya had the unpleasant task of calling Deacon early that morning to ask him to come and get her from Lucas’s place. She felt like such an idiot that she didn’t have enough money for a taxi. Kenya guessed that’s what happened when you got used to everyone taking care of everything for you: You forget how to take care of yourself.

  “Hop in,” Deacon said after he’d arrived twenty minutes later in a sporty Mercedes-Benz.

  She must have looked a sight wearing last night’s dress with her smudged makeup and tousled hair. She was sure it was clear what she’d done last night, but much to Kenya’s surprise, Deacon remained silent for the entire ride to Chynna’s mansion. She thought she’d escape a lecture when they arrived, but then he turned off the engine and followed her inside.

  “Why don’t I make some coffee?” Deacon said as Kenya made her way up the circular staircase.

  Kenya paused midstride and glanced over her shoulder. She rolled her eyes upward. She hadn’t escaped.

  “I’ll meet you in the kitchen,” Deacon said, without waiting for her answer.

  Kenya tried to take as long as she possibly could, showering and washing her hair, but eventually she had to depart the steaming room and face the music. Or in this case, Deacon’s disapproval. After blow-drying her hair straight, she dressed in a tank top and yoga pants and met Deacon downstairs in Chynna’s big eat-in, yet modern kitchen.

  Kenya liked the stainless steel appliances, but didn’t care for the cherrywood cabinets and granite countertops. She would have preferred an all-white country kitchen.

  “Can I pour you a cup?” Deacon asked as Kenya approached the table.

  “Would love some.” Kenya pulled out the seat adjacent to him and plopped down.

  Deacon slid over her mug and Kenya reached for creamer nearby, but he frowned. “You drink your coffee black.”

  “Usually,” Kenya said, but she was dying for a sugary concoction for once. She was tired of Chynna’s eating habits and wanted to indulge.

  “You don’t need the extra calories, and it’s a bad habit,” Deacon said, smacking her hand away, “like other things.”

  Kenya rolled her eyes. “You obviously have something to say, so why don’t you spit it out.”

  “Chynna, I know that you do things your own way,” Deacon began, “and it’s one of things I love and hate about you.”

  Kenya narrowed her eyes.

  “But even you must see that a sexual relationship with Lucas will only end in heartbreak.”

  “Deacon, I don’t need a lecture from you.”

  “Well apparently you do,” Deacon said. “I’d hoped it was just some harmless flirting, but my fears were confirmed today. You don’t
need this kind of drama. You finally have things on track with your music and the movie. Getting involved with Lucas will only distract you.”

  “Is that your only fear: That I won’t remain focused?”

  “It has happened in the past, not to mention that Lucas is not the commitment kind.”

  “So what?” Kenya huffed. “What if all I want is a fling?”

  “Bullshit, Chynna,” Deacon said. “I know you. You may put on fronts for other people, but remember I know you and you love with your whole heart. Just like you did with that idiot Lamar. I don’t want you to get your heart broken again.”

  “I won’t allow that to happen,” Kenya said. Why? Because there wouldn’t be time. Any day now, she would be going back to New York, and Chynna would come back to Los Angeles, and any relationship Kenya had with Lucas would come to an end.

  “Famous last words,” Deacon said.

  Kenya smiled broadly. “Well, don’t get your panties in a twist ol’ boy,” she said, reaching across the table and patting Deacon’s hand, “because I agree with you.”

  “You do?”

  Kenya grinned. “Yes. I was just giving you shit. As much as I may have enjoyed last night, it’s in the past, and it won’t happen again.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Deacon said. “Because if I know Lucas, he will not take no for answer.”

  “In this case, he’ll have to,” Kenya said firmly. “Last night was a one-time thing.” And she was really going to have to play Chynna’s spoiled princess role even better than Chynna herself, because that’s the only way she would convince Lucas to give up. She would have to show him Chynna hadn’t truly changed, show him that the old Chynna had never left and it was all an act. She was going to have turn on the DIVA.

  The rest of her morning consisted of running lines with Penelope for the next day’s shooting on the movie and voice lessons with a coach that Carter Wright, the film’s director, had insisted she work with. Kenya was surprised at how comfortable she was becoming with having so many people around her, but there was something to be said for alone time.

  “Do, ra, me, fa, so, la, te, do,” she sang the musical scale notes.

  “You’re used to belting out songs onstage,” Carter told her during the last scene they’d shot, “but I need you to be more controlled in your singing for those quiet moments.”

  Kenya was well aware of those moments. She was used to pacing herself during her run on Broadway, but because she was playing Chynna, who sang at stadiums, she’d had to act differently. When she was finished with the coach, she drank nearly an entire Evian before sitting down with Deacon and Fiona, who’d just arrived.

  “So, there’s obviously something going on,” Kenya said, “or you both wouldn’t be here.”

  “There’s a club opening tonight by an A-list celebrity,” Fiona said, looking up from her iPad. “Everyone is going to be there. You need to make an appearance with Lucas.”

  Kenya’s eyes instantly darted to Deacon. She saw the look of disdain on his face. He’d warned her about keeping her distance from him, and she was sure not happy about this latest development.

  “Chynna James never misses an LA club opening,” Fiona replied before Kenya could jump in. “And you and Lucas need to be seen together. The paps are talking about how you guys gave them the shaft last night at Spago. Couldn’t you have at least allowed them a few shots?”

  Kenya looked down. “We just wanted some time alone.”

  “Time alone for what?” Penelope asked, smiling.

  “Mind your own business,” Kenya snapped, and immediately her shy assistant returned to sorting the piles of fan mail that came to Chynna’s house every day.

  “C’mon, Chynna,” Fiona said. “We all agreed to this weeks ago, and you promised you would live up to your end of the bargain.”

  That I have, thought Kenya. She just hadn’t planned on going to bed with the man. But that wasn’t Fiona’s fault; she was doing her job and cleaning up Chynna’s image by showing her off with a single, available man. Kenya was just going to have to suck up her emotional baggage and view it as a job. But that was hard to do.

  Throughout the day, as she’d run lines or sang scales, her mind had drifted to Lucas’s sexy grin, those chiseled abs, that rock-hard behind that she couldn’t resist slapping in bed. Or was it his intellect and the fact they could discuss any topic from religion to politics to movies to music. Lord, she was falling hard for this charismatic man.

  “Did you hear what I said?” Fiona’s voice burst through her reverie.

  “No, I’m sorry. Can you repeat it?”

  “Are you going to give me a hard time, or can I contact Lucas and arrange the date?”

  Kenya rose and waved her hand in the air. “Do what needs to be done.” Somehow, someway she would find a way to mask her growing feelings for the music mogul.

  Later that evening, in true Chynna fashion she had on spike-studded peeptoe stilettos and a black leather and mesh dress with a cutout at the side. The dress barely reached her thigh and with the four-inch heels, she was all legs. When she came down the stairs, Deacon whistled.

  Deacon didn’t look too bad either. He’d changed into a dark gray suit with a silver tie. Fiona had donned an emerald-green cow-neck dress that draped from her shoulders by a single rhinestone-studded chain. With her striking red hair, Fiona was a knockout.

  “Fiona, you look amazing,” Kenya commented.

  Fiona blushed. “This old thing. It’s nothing.”

  “Bullshit,” Penelope said quietly from the corner. “She agonized over what to buy all day yesterday.”

  Kenya couldn’t help but chuckle. Penelope might be quiet, but she was observant. “So where’s Lucas?” Kenya asked breathlessly. She was ready to get it over with. She hadn’t seen him since she’d rushed out of his apartment earlier that day, and she could only imagine he was less than pleased with her.

  “I’m right here,” a deep masculine voice said from behind their group, and Kenya’s stomach lurched.

  When the group parted to allow Lucas to enter their circle, he wasn’t wearing the frown Kenya imagined he would—he was smiling. Later, she would find out it was just for show.

  “Lucas,” Kenya said, reining in her nerves even though her heart was going pitter-patter at his nearness. She had to remind herself: DIVA. DIVA.

  “Chynna, you ready to give the paparazzi what they want?”

  “That is why we’re going through this charade,” Kenya said haughtily and without a glance as Lucas headed toward the door.

  Deacon glanced at Fiona and Penelope and said, “This is going to be a long night.”

  Lucas stared at Kenya from across the limo seat. If looks could kill, she would be dead instantly. He was angry that she’d walked out on him without a word or an explanation. He hadn’t considered their night together a hook-up. He’d hoped it would be a mutually satisfying relationship for both of them, until ... until it ended, which it inevitably would.

  He didn’t do long-term relationships. Never had. Growing up in South Central, he’d dated, but he hadn’t wanted to get too close for fear one of the girls would try to trap him and he’d never leave. Then, as he’d gotten older and more successful, the same scenario had been true. Wannabe singers and groupies would swarm him, desperate for their big break, and if he got too close, BAM, they’d try to trap him. Trap him into fatherhood or marriage. Or both. But neither were in the cards for him.

  He’d seen his mother go from man to man, having baby after baby until she was fifty, with five kids by different fathers. He’d been the only boy of five, and his sisters had become victims of their environment and had started the cycle all over again. That’s why he’d had to get out or his family would suck him in. After he’d become a millionaire, he’d bought his mother a house and helped support his siblings when he could, but it seemed l
ike they perpetually needed a handout. So he kept his distance, visiting only at holidays and the occasional birthday. It was a solitary life sometimes, but Lucas didn’t want the drama that family sometimes could bring.

  When the car stopped, Lucas realized he hadn’t spoken a word to Chynna the entire ride. Even Deacon and Fiona looked nervous sitting across from him and “Chynna.”

  “Everything okay?” Deacon asked, noticing the dark expression on Lucas’s face.

  “Everything’s fine.” Lucas blinked several times, reminding himself that he couldn’t change where he came from, only how he ended up.

  “Smiles then.” Fiona made a grin motion with her hands. “The press is going to be looking at both of you,” she said, turning to Kenya at her side, “for a crack underneath the surface, and if they find out, they’ll pounce.”

  “No worries, Fiona,” Kenya said. “We’ve got this. Don’t we Lucas?” She stared him dead in the eye, and he could see her challenging him to say otherwise, but he didn’t rise to the occasion.

  “That’s right,” Lucas said, and seconds later he was jumping out of the car.

  As soon as Kenya exited the vehicle, Lucas’s arm encircled her waist on the red carpet for the paparazzi waiting at the new club. Cameras and light bulbs flashed in front of Kenya’s face as she smiled and posed for the press.

  “Lucas, are you missing the single life?” one reporter asked.

  “Of course not.” Lucas flashed a kilowatt smile. “How could I be when I have a woman as beautiful and talented as this one?” He leaned down and brushed his lips across Kenya’s.

  The paparazzi went wild, pointing even more cameras at them, so much so that the bouncers had to usher them both inside to allow for the other guests and celebrities to arrive for the event.

  “You weren’t lying when you said those people are vultures,” Kenya said, smoothing down her dress. As much as she might have been easing into Chynna’s life, she doubted she could ever get used to the skimpy clothing her twin was supposed to wear.