Harts of Arizona Series

by Yahrah St. John

  Kenya and Lucas walked into the darkened club with the flashing lights and were greeted not only by a packed house but by Eli, Lucas’s business partner.

  “Eli.” Lucas leaned over and gave Eli a one-arm hug.

  Eli hugged Lucas back, all the while giving Kenya the once-over. “I like,” he said to Fiona, as if Kenya didn’t exist. “Did the press get some pictures?”

  Lucas rolled his eyes. “Tons. I think we’ve given them something to chew on for a while. Where you at?”

  “I have a VIP table for us,” Eli said. “Follow me.”

  Most of the evening was spent schmoozing with other celebrities, drinking champagne, and nibbling on appetizers, but the true entertainment came when the stage became dark, and then six women appeared in the spotlight complete with bustier and thigh-high fishnet stockings.

  “What’s going on?” Kenya asked, looking around the table.

  “Didn’t we tell you?” Eli grinned. “It’s a burlesque show.”

  “I can see that,” Kenya said. “What type of club is this?”

  “Oh, a little of this, a little of that. This is LA,” Eli said. “Do you have a problem with it, Chynna?” But before Kenya could answer, he said, “If I recall, you liked these sorts of shows, said it gave you material for your concerts.”

  Kenya stared at Eli blankly. Does Chynna really think that? She wondered as she stared at the woman gyrating on stage and manipulating scarves, whips and chains.

  “Maybe you should get up there and show them how it’s done,” Eli taunted.

  Kenya couldn’t figure out his problem, but Eli was definitely in a mood tonight. She’d never really cared for him, but he was behaving like even more of an ass.

  “Not while she’s my woman,” Lucas said, pulling Kenya protectively toward him for the benefit of their table, which had grown from their small group to include several of Lucas’s business associates and two actors from Chynna’s new film. “The only person she’s going to be giving a peep show to is me. Isn’t that right, darling?”

  Kenya plastered a smile on her face, even though she was smacking his hand away underneath the table. “Only for you, babe.”

  “I need a stronger drink than this champagne,” Eli said, suddenly getting up from the table. “Can I get you something, Lucas?”

  “Yeah, man, a Scotch would be great,” Lucas said. He turned to Kenya. “Chynna, what would you like?”

  Kenya wasn’t much of a drinker because she couldn’t hold her liquor. “Nothing for me.”

  “Oh, c’mon, Chynna.” Eli eyed her suspiciously. “You’ve never been known to turn down a drink.”

  “Maybe that’s the problem,” Kenya replied. “I’d just prefer to keep my wits about me. Thank you, but if you insist, I’ll have a virgin strawberry daiquiri, please.”

  Eli stared at her long and hard for a moment, but rather than argue with her like he always did, he moved away toward the crowd of people standing at the bar.

  Eli stared through the crowd back at Chynna. Lamar was right. Something wasn’t quite right about Chynna. She hadn’t been the same since she’d gotten back. It was almost like she was a different woman. The moment the words came to his mind, Eli knew they had to be true. Chynna wasn’t the same person because the woman imitating his recording artist was her twin! Why didn’t I figure this out before?

  Chynna has a twin, an actress ... named ... Eli racked his mind trying to remember her name, but he just couldn’t put his finger on it. It was the name of a country. How can I prove she is an impostor? If he told Lucas, or anyone for that matter, they’d think he’d lost his marbles. Why would a Multi-Platinum artist like Chynna leave her lush lifestyle and trade places with her sister? And if her twin is playing Chynna, where is the real thing? Where has the little minx gone?

  Eli was going to find out. He already had a private investigator watching Chynna’s every move, but that was before he knew the score. Now, he had something to give him. The investigator could start with the twin first and work his way from there. Chynna and her sister were not as smart as he was, and he would figure out what they were up to before they ruined everything. And he knew exactly what he was going to do to pay that bitch, her twin, back. She’d been giving him hell since the day she’d arrived, but he had something for her. Oh, yes, she was about to be taught a lesson that she couldn’t mess with Eli Ross.

  When the bartender asked what he wanted to order, Eli said his usual Hennessey and Coke and for Lucas he ordered a Scotch, but he also ordered a strawberry daiquiri for Miss High and Mighty, heavy on the rum. The sweetness of the drink would mask the liquor and finally her inhibitions would come tumbling down.

  Kenya slurped up her second daiquiri for the night. “Hmmm, this is really good, Eli,” she said. She’d never recalled the drink tasting quite this good before.

  Eli smiled. “Oh, that bartender really knows what he’s doing.” Eli had ensured it by tipping the bartender a hundred bucks to keep his mouth shut and keep the liquor flowing.

  “Well, I want another,” Kenya said, tossing her hair back flirtatiously. She’d never felt so giddy and loose before. “Let’s dance.” She bumped her hips against Lucas in the booth.

  “I’m really not ...,” Lucas began, but before he could finish, Kenya was nearly crawling over him to get out of the booth. “Okay, okay.” Lucas looked at Eli suspiciously for a minute just as Kenya tugged his arm and led him on the dance floor for a fast song.

  Kat DeLuna’s song “Whine Up”—one of Kenya’s favorite dance songs—came on. Soon Kenya had her hands on her hips and was shaking her bottom in front of Lucas. She noticed his eyes perk up at her seductive dance. So she slid her fingers through her hair and wound her hips more to the pop song. She could see Lucas trying to hold back, but she was having none of it. She didn’t know what had come over her, but she wanted him something fierce like she had last night. She turned until her backside was against his crotch and melded her body against his. She leaned her head back, allowing her hair to dangle against his face. At first, Lucas resisted, but eventually he gave in and pulled her closer to him. As he wound his body with hers, Kenya could feel his erection growing underneath her. She rubbed provocatively and shamelessly against him, until he eventually spun her around.

  “As much I love this dirty dance of yours,” Lucas said, looking into her eyes, “you’re drunk.”

  “No, I’m not. All I had were daiquiris.”

  “Spiked daiquiris,” Lucas replied, and he had a feeling he knew who was behind it. He looked through the crowd to the table where Eli sat, smiling like a Cheshire cat.

  “C’mon.” Lucas grabbed her by the arm and walked her unceremoniously off the dance floor.

  When they returned to the table, Lucas announced they were going home.

  “Why?” Eli asked, laughing. “We’re all having fun. Aren’t we?” He looked at Deacon and several other celebrities at their table.

  Deacon gave Kenya a cursory glance and noticed her slouched posture against Lucas’s arm. “I think our girl should be calling it a night. We do have that big show in Vegas day after tomorrow, and we can’t have Chynna tying one on and spending all day tomorrow in bed instead of rehearsing.”

  “But Chynna has always been known how to hold her liquor,” Eli emphasized. “What’s changed?”

  Kenya looked into Eli’s beady eyes and for the first time saw what she hadn’t the entire night. Does Eli know? Does he know I’m not Chynna? She struggled to compose herself, but the liquor had already had its desired effect, which is exactly what Eli wanted. He wanted her off her game. “I, I didn’t eat anything today.” She gave a half-smile to the table. “The liquor went to my head.”

  “Sure kid. Have a good night, everybody.” Lucas inclined his head and led Kenya away from the table and out of the club.

  Lucas glanced down at Kenya’s sleeping form in the l
imo on the way back to her mansion. Eli was right about one thing: Chynna could usually hold her liquor. But this new Chynna, since she’d come back from the spa, had been different. She was poised and in control. Until last night. Last night, she’d finally let go and gave into the passion that had been building between them for weeks.

  And he’d let go too. For the first time in his life, he’d felt a connection other than sex when he was intimate with a woman. And this morning when he’d woken up to find her gone, he’d been angry not just because he wanted to take her back to bed, but because he’d actually started enjoying her company and hadn’t wanted it to end.

  Kenya stirred on his lap and Lucas stroked her honey-blond hair. When she’d flung her hair back on him on the dance floor and ground that tight little butt of hers against his penis, he’d wanted to turn her around and bury himself deep inside her welcoming body. But “Chynna” wasn’t herself tonight. He was sure Eli had spiked her daiquiri just to be spiteful. She gave him grief and Eli had wanted to teach her a lesson. Lucas hated that side of his friend. He had ever since they were kids. It wasn’t enough that Eli was the biggest or the baddest. He could be mean just because he could, but never to Lucas. Lucas was the only person that Eli would listen to, but that didn’t mean he could behave any kind of way, and Lucas was going to have a word with him in the morning.

  The limo came to a stop, and Kenya peered up at him through mascara-coated lashes. “Are you coming inside?”

  Lucas could see the green specks in her hazel eyes, and his groin swelled at the implication. He rolled his eyes upward and prayed for strength.

  Lucky for Lucas, Kenya didn’t stay awake for long and promptly conked back out. He slipped his hands under her and carried her from the limo into the house and up the stairs to her bedroom.

  Her bedroom was everything he’d imagined it to be: glitz and glamour. Yet that wasn’t the only Chynna he knew. There was more to her than she portrayed to the world.

  Lucas laid her gently onto her king-size bed. She stirred only for a moment as he slid the strappy sandals she’d been wearing from her slender feet and tossed them to the floor. He debated with himself for about half a second before deciding to undress her. He looked around the room for a nightshirt. Finding nothing, he searched her dresser drawers and found an oversized NYU T-shirt that looked like it had seen better days. Now came the task of taking the skintight dress she’d been wearing off her delectable body without wanting to ravish her.

  He managed the task, but had a raging hard-on for his efforts. She wasn’t wearing a bra underneath the slip of a dress, which only increased his discomfort. Her round, curvy breasts and delicious brown nipples were bare, and she was wearing a scrap of fabric that barely covered the triangle between her thighs.

  Lucas swore under his breath. He so desperately wanted to take her nipples in his mouth and tease them into hard buds, but he couldn’t take advantage. Kenya had had too much to drink, and he wanted her stone-cold sober when he made love to her again. Quickly, he slipped the T-shirt over her head, pulled the covers back then slid them over her. But instead of going home, he kicked off his loafers and joined her on the bed.

  He told himself that he was staying over to keep an eye on her and make sure no one took advantage, because he didn’t want to think too long or too hard about the real reason he was staying over because if he did, he’d have to acknowledge something he wasn’t yet ready to admit to himself.

  Chapter 3

  Chynna’s phone had stopped working, and she didn’t realize it until the second evening of the flash flood. She’d been so caught up in Noah and the ranch’s anniversary party and then later the flood and getting through to Noah that she hadn’t even thought of Kenya. They hadn’t spoken in days, and when she finally tried Kenya, her cell didn’t work.

  On the one hand, Chynna felt terrible for being so selfish and only thinking of herself. Kenya had to be worrying about her and wondering when Chynna planned on returning. But on the other hand, the additional time without interruptions might give her time to get through to Noah. Rylee seemed to think that there was still a chance for her and Noah, and Chynna needed to find out. She would make one last ditch effort to get through to him. No matter what he said, she was going to have to pull out all the stops or risk losing him forever.

  Later, when dinner was over and the older Harts had retired to bed, Rylee, Noah, Caleb and Chynna sat around downstairs in the living room chatting as the winds and rain beat against the windowpane.

  Although Noah was civil to her, Chynna hadn’t been able to break through the ice he’d started forming again around his heart. So Chynna used the one weapon in her repertoire. While Noah and Caleb sat chatting on the sofa and Rylee played on her iPad, Chynna went over to the piano and began playing a new love song she’d been writing since her arrival in Tucson.

  She closed her eyes and sang softly with the piano as her only accompaniment. Eventually, she was so caught up in the music and the lyrics that she didn’t realize all conversation had ceased and she had an audience watching her.

  When she opened her eyes, Rylee and Caleb were staring at her, open-mouthed, but it was Noah who was studying her. His eyes searched her face, reaching into her thoughts, and instantly she knew that he knew the song was about him.

  “That was amazing,” Rylee whispered breathlessly.

  “You have a gift,” Noah echoed his sister’s sentiment.

  “You’re telling me,” Caleb said as he lounged back in the recliner. “I still can’t believe I have Chynna James sitting in my living room serenading me. Wait until I tell the fellas at the rodeo.”

  Chynna spun around to face Caleb and said, “You can’t tell anyone about this.” Her eyes flashed with a gentle but firm warning. “If you do, word will leak and the ranch will be surrounded by cameras, SUVs, helicopters and more. You have no idea the can of worms you’d be opening on your family.”

  “I don’t want the family or our guests disturbed by the ruckus. They’ve been through enough with this storm,” Noah replied, “so Caleb will be keeping his mouth shut. Isn’t that right, Caleb?”

  Chynna was surprised Noah’s words had a degree of warmth and concern, though not directed at her.

  “Of course,” Caleb said, offering a forgiving smile. “I was merely saying that none of the fellas will believe me when I tell them.”

  “I’ll give you one,” she said, holding up her index finger. “One photo as proof.” She watched a slow grin spread across Caleb’s face, and she added, “When I leave.” He frowned.

  “Fine,” Caleb said as he rose from the lounger and headed for the door. “I’m going to go find some action.”

  “Better not be with any of our guests,” Noah yelled to Caleb’s retreating figure.

  After he left, Rylee stifled a yawn with the back of her hand. “I’m exhausted. I was up early this morning delivering that filly, and I’m pooped.” She rose from the sofa. “I’m heading up to bed. You ready, Chynna?” she asked, looking down at her houseguest.

  Chynna shook her head. “Oh, no, you go on. I’m not tired yet. Guess I’m still accustomed to the late nights on the road.”

  Rylee looked at her brother, but could sense that he was sticking around to have a word with Chynna. She wasn’t sure what was about to go down, but figured she’d make a hasty exit. “Alright then, I’ll see you both in the morning.”

  Once the door closed behind Rylee, Noah wasted no time walking over to Chynna at the piano.

  “Well, it’s clear you have something to say to me, Noah,” Chynna said, “so why don’t you just get it off your chest?”

  “Was that song about me?” Noah asked, placing his beer bottle on the piano.

  She glanced up at him. “What makes you think that?”

  “Are we really going to play these games, Chynna?”

  Her brow crinkled. “Fine. The song was about
me and you. I write whatever I’m feeling at the time.”

  “Did you mean what you said about wishing you’d had more trust in me? Do you wish you’d told me the truth from the start and not waited for Caleb to rat you out?”

  Chynna let out a heavy sigh as she rose from the piano bench and moved closer to him. “Of course I do,” she replied. “But I can’t change the past, and you’re just going to have to accept me as I am, flaws and all.”

  He stared into her eyes and then down at her mouth before turning his back on her.

  “Jesus, Noah,” Chynna spoke with a fragile, shaky voice. “I, I can’t read you from one minute to the next. You have me on a merry-go-round. One minute you hate me and want to strangle me ... and the next ...”

  Her voice trailed off, but Noah was intrigued and spun around. “And the next, what?”

  “And the next, I think you want to kiss me,” Chynna answered honestly, looking him in the eye. She wasn’t backing down. Not this time. “Make love to me.”

  Noah licked his lips in agitation. “M-make love to you?” He repeated her sentiment back in a husky whisper.

  Chynna could read men and knew that Noah was trying his best to act like he was unaffected by her, but she knew that wasn’t the case. It was time to make her move.

  Noah’s anger had already gone, and he didn’t know why he was still holding on to it. Maybe he was using it as a shield to keep Chynna at bay? One thing was for sure, when she moved closer to him and one of her hands encircled his neck and pulled him toward her warm, parting lips, his resolve evaporated. The look in Chynna’s eyes told him that she was a tiger, and he was her prey.

  He wanted her to kiss him. And she did. She melded her lips to his and his tongue found hers. He stroked, cajoled, teased and caressed it until he was lost.