Rhythm of My Heart s-3

by Jess Dee

  Zachary couldn’t choose. Didn’t try. They both made him hot.

  “Zachary?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Are you a father?”

  He stumbled backward, still holding Eve, and had to dance around ungracefully to find his balance. “Jesus. There’s a question you don’t hear every time you kiss a girl.” He dropped his arms and took a step back.

  “Shit.” She flushed and smacked her forehead. “That so didn’t come out like I meant it to. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked like that. Shouldn’t put you on the spot. In fact, I shouldn’t have asked at all.”

  The woman seemed to have a flair for putting him on the spot. “Why did you?” He already knew the answer though. She’d heard the rumors. Hell, the whole world had heard the rumors.

  That didn’t stop the unease from creeping up his spine.

  “I…my sister mentioned it this morning.”

  “You discussed me with your sister?” Zachary stiffened.

  Experience had taught him to be wary. Rumors spread, fast and furious. A quick call to family or friend was all it took for the press to get involved. And when the press got involved private situations became public fodder—most of the time exaggerated beyond recognition.

  On the other hand, who was he to criticize a woman for talking to her sister? Didn’t he talk to his brothers about shit that happened in his life? Maybe he should view her conversation as a compliment.

  A part of him would feel complimented, he acknowledged, if she hadn’t mentioned the damn baby shit.

  “She phoned me to discuss the papers. We spoke.”

  Wait. “What papers?”

  Her face dropped. “The newspapers.”

  Never mind the unease up his spine. His whole body turned cold. “What about the newspapers?”

  “Nothing much.” Her gaze wandered over his shoulder. “Just me. With you. On page one—and three—of the Australian morning newspapers. Your tongue in my mouth. Nothing huge. Oh, and maybe a video of us pashing on the Internet.”

  Shit.

  Damn.

  Fuck it all.

  “Wait, what? Pashing?”

  “Kissing, mate. Frenching. Making out like teenagers.” She fluttered her hand nonchalantly towards the television. “It’s on the telly too. All the news shows are broadcasting it. And there may be a few YouTube videos making the rounds.”

  She said it all very calmly, as though it didn’t affect her at all. But her eyes were huge, she couldn’t look at him and darts of panic flashed across her face. Her fingers feathered over her cheek.

  “Christ, I’m sorry.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I didn’t think. Didn’t check the papers or let Luke know.” Of course this was going to happen. He’d known it as soon as he’d worked out what the blinding flashes of light had been when he’d kissed her. He’d just gotten so caught up in Eve that he’d forgotten all about it.

  For once he’d met a woman he found more important than his reputation.

  The band manager was bound to have seen the papers by now. Watched the broadcasts. He was probably banging on Zachary’s door right now, attempting to initiate damage control.

  Zachary hated this shit. Passionately. He’d been burned badly by the press, and had no doubt they were clamoring to burn him again. So long as they got their story, anything they wrote was okay.

  Which was why any interviews Zachary now participated in were conducted on his terms. Period.

  But regardless of how much he hated them, hated the paparazzi, and no matter how valid his reasons were for hating them, he was used to them. Knew what to expect. Eve had no experience at all. In her shoes, he’d also be nervous.

  He grimaced. “I should have realized this would happen. Did realize. I just… Shit, with everything that happened between us, I didn’t give it another thought.” Stupid. Why hadn’t he tried to protect her from this crap?

  Because he couldn’t? Because when it came to the media he was just a pawn to be used for another sensational story?

  “Did they know who you were?” he asked. “Identify you by name?”

  She shook her head.

  Okay, so that was good. A lucky break, at least. But it wouldn’t last. If her sister had recognized her, chances were high someone else had too. Any member of the crew could have identified her. Sure, I know her. She’s the makeup artist for Speed’s back-up singers.

  Christ, now what? Did he tell her it would probably get worse? That the photos might haunt her for a while? The photos and the video.

  Stories were going to fly. Before she knew it, she’d hear she was engaged to Jonah. Or secretly married to him. Maybe preparing for their first child. Or second. The press would scratch up whatever they could about her. Anything in her past she didn’t want known, they’d know about it.

  The paparazzi would dog her every move.

  Bastards.

  Furious, with himself and with the press, he led her to the bed, urging her to sit on it.

  She perched on the edge, and he crouched before her.

  “Eve, I wish I could say differently. This might take a while to fade from the media. People are going to talk about it for some time.”

  She gave a dejected sigh. “Yeah, I kinda figured that out.”

  He didn’t want to scare her, but she had to be prepared. “The paparazzi are going to be searching for you. They’ll follow your every move. Bang on your door—and mine—for a photo.”

  “Charming.”

  She didn’t know the half of it. “The press is going to scratch around in your past, look for any piece of dirt they can dig up on you.”

  Eve blanched. Her face turned pale, so white that even beneath her makeup, Zachary could make out her ghostly pallor.

  Someone banged on the door.

  Eve started, staring at said door in horror.

  “No,” he soothed her instantly. “No, that’s not them. They can’t get to you here. Not in the hotel. There’s security posted all over the place.”

  Another bang on the door. “Eve? Are you in there?”

  Zachary leapt to his feet. Thank God. Not a moment to soon. He let Luke in.

  “Thought I might find you here,” his buddy said in greeting.

  “Luke.” Zachary knew his voice reflected his relief.

  “Dry spell over?” his friend asked, a hint of amusement in his voice, although his eyes were dead serious.

  “You noticed.”

  “The whole world noticed.” Luke chuckled. “No small measures for you. When you break the shackles of your self-restraint, you do it in style. In front of an audience of hundreds. Millions.”

  Zachary grimaced.

  “We’ll deal with it. We’ll get through it. Just like we’ve gotten through other crises.” Luke’s hand on his shoulder was comforting. Or it should have been, if his knuckles didn’t look bruised and raw. His whole hand was swollen. Both his hands were.

  “Jesus, Luke, what the—?”

  Luke dropped his hand. “It’s nothing. I’m fine. An incident while training last night.”

  Zachary searched has face. Luke looked okay. He looked…happy? No, “content” would be a better word. “You sure?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.” He smiled then, a smile Zachary had never seen on his friend’s face.

  And just like that, he knew. Seth had finally worn Luke down. Finally got him to commit. Fuck knew he’d only been trying for eight years.

  Way to go, little brother.

  He grinned at Luke, forgetting, for just a moment, that Luke’s hands were damaged and that the press was trying to rip his life apart. Again. His life and Eve’s. “So, you and Seth finally—”

  Luke held his hand up in warning. “Don’t say it. Don’t even go there. And I swear if I hear the words I told you so, I will snap every one of your drumsticks in half.”

  “Not saying a word here. It’s about damn time, but I’m not saying a word.”

  Luke grunted.

  Zachary turned
to Eve. “Just for the record? I did tell him so. Often.”

  “Tell him what?” Eve asked, confused.

  “That it’s okay to be happy,” Luke offered. “But I’m not here to talk about me. I’m here to discuss the two of you. You doing okay, Eve?” He sat beside her on the bed, his expression gentle, his voice soft. The man was genuinely concerned about the effect this would have on her.

  She nodded, still pale.

  “You’ve seen the papers this morning?”

  “Half the world has seen the papers.”

  “Look, I can’t promise this’ll blow over any time soon. The paparazzi have been thrown a bone, and they’re going to pick at it until there’s nothing left. Or until they find a bigger story. Unfortunately, for now, Speed is their biggest story.” He motioned to the window. “There are reporters camped outside the hotel. I’m sorry to say they want a piece of you. Even more than usual because we’re not telling them a damn thing about Sophie. They’re not leaving until they get something, or until we head out of here.”

  “Sophie?” she asked.

  “Jamie’s girlfriend.”

  Now that she was back with Nathan, after his big brother had gone to Sydney to find her, the press was all over them, demanding their story. Nathan wasn’t saying a word. No one was.

  “Have you had any experience with this, Eve?” Luke asked. “With being in the public eye?”

  She hesitated before nodding. “A long time ago.” She ran her hand over her cheek. “Now I stay behind the scenes. Out of the limelight.”

  Luke frowned. “So you have been in the public eye before?”

  “I…years ago.” She pursed her lips, obviously reluctant to speak about it. “I was injured. It was on the news a few times, and then people forgot about it.”

  Her scar. He still needed to ask her more about it.

  “I see.” It was Luke’s turn to purse his lips. “I don’t want to pry, Eve. But for your sake I have to know—at least before the paparazzi find out. Were you in any way responsible for your injury?”

  Eve’s expression flattened. Her eyes turned dull, and Zachary’s heart ached for her. Her robe was closed, but he suspected her scar would be flushed an angry red if he could see it. “No,” she whispered. “Not in any way.”

  Luke’s nod told Zachary the questioning was over. “Okay, then we’re going to help you through this nonsense. First and foremost, I’m assigning you a bodyguard. Someone who’ll stay with you at all times. If you’re not in the hotel, you’re with him. You go out, he goes with you.”

  “God, no,” Eve objected vehemently. “I don’t want a bodyguard.”

  “It’s not open to negotiation. You need one.”

  And just like that, Eve had a bodyguard. Zachary would have grinned at Luke’s strong-arm tactics had he not agreed with him wholeheartedly. The closer the bodyguard stood, the farther away the press would be held.

  “Next item on the agenda—the media.” Luke held up a finger, emphasizing the importance of what he was about to say. “Don’t answer their questions. Not one, no matter how much you want to. Whatever you say will be recorded, reported and all too often twisted into some nasty version of the truth. Reporters will fire them at you. Fast. Grab you unawares, shock you into responding, say things you’ll want to defend. They’re damn good at what they do, determined.” He grimaced. “Just keep your mouth shut and trust Jake to take care of things.”

  “Jake?” Eve’s eyes were enormous, her face no less pale.

  “Your bodyguard.”

  Zachary didn’t love the idea of anyone but himself looking out for Eve’s wellbeing. But he obviously couldn’t do it. He’d already let her down—kissing her at the party. And based on the fact that he didn’t seem to have much control of his actions or emotions when the woman was around, he couldn’t promise her, or himself, he wouldn’t do something equally stupid again.

  “Third thing, the airport today. Jake’ll knock on your door at eleven forty-five to escort you down to the hotel car park. You’re not driving there with the crew. Too risky. You’ll come with the band.”

  “You’ll come with me,” Zachary added.

  “Fine, she’ll travel with you. And Jake. Same story in Queensland. Stay with Jake. He’ll get you to the hotel and to the concert in relative peace.”

  “Stay with Jake and me.”

  Luke frowned. He looked at Zachary for a long minute. “When you’re in public, Eve, stick with Jake. Zachary, you’re in too deep, with the press and with Eve. You’re losing your objectivity.”

  Objectivity? Hell, he’d lost it the minute he’d laid eyes on the woman. “Maybe I am.”

  Luke snorted. “Yeah, sure. Maybe.” He turned his attention back to Eve. “Trust Jake. He’s been with the band since the beginning. Knows how to handle the press.”

  Eve looked overwhelmed. “I, er, I have to see family when we’re on the Gold Coast. It’s my niece’s birthday tomorrow, and I promised to be there.”

  “Then go. Jake will go too. You’re not a prisoner, Eve. You can still live your life. Go out. We’re just taking necessary precautions.” Luke stood. “Look, can you both do me a favor?”

  Zachary raised an eyebrow in question.

  “Keep it to yourselves. For now, at least. Whatever is going on, don’t give them any more fodder. Okay?”

  Eve stared at him, bewildered, and Zachary had to wonder if she was taken aback by the idea of keeping it between the two of them, by the thought of the pap wanting more of them, or by the whole “for now” bit. Which hinted there might be a later for the two of them.

  Was there?

  Last night, Zachary had kept himself firmly grounded in the here and now. This morning he’d anticipated the near future—the few minutes or hours until he saw her again.

  More than that? Hell. Who knew?

  He gritted his teeth.

  He knew.

  There was definitely a later. Or there would be if he had anything to do with it. “Yeah, no prob. We’re good. No more fodder. For now.”

  Luke gave a satisfied nod. “Good. Then if you don’t mind, I need to find Seth and Kaz. She’s heading back to Sydney this morning.”

  “Whoa, Luke, hang on a sec.” Seth could have Luke for the rest of the day, for forever. But for the next minute or so, Zachary could sure use his help.

  His friend looked at him.

  “Tell Kaz I said goodbye.”

  “Sure thing.”

  “And please, tell Eve about my kid.”

  “Your kid?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Uh… What kid?”

  Zachary looked at Eve, who watched them both with narrowed eyes. “My point exactly. Thank you.”

  Luke looked from him to Eve and back again, obviously confused. “Yeah, sure, any time. Can I go now?”

  “Yep.” Zachary slung his arm around Luke’s shoulders and walked him to the door. “Thanks, man.”

  “Yeah, anytime. But seriously, Zachary. Keep it between you two. You don’t need more shit now.”

  Chapter Nine

  Heart sore, Eve watched as Zachary saw Luke to the door.

  Had he honestly just done that? Just foisted her question on to Luke so he didn’t have to answer?

  Of course he had. And his behavior made sense. She’d asked him a personal question, gotten too close, and he’d done the only thing he could under the circumstances. Cut her off. Cut short the intimacy she’d assumed they’d created together and passed her question over to Luke.

  She didn’t have a right to let this upset her. It was her own fault for assuming there was an intimacy between them in the first place. Had she forgotten that men didn’t get overly personal with scarred women? Especially not incredibly sexy men, superstars like Jonah Speed.

  She blinked hard, trying to hide the hurt she had no right to feel, but must have failed, because Zachary’s eyes filled with concern when he turned back to her.

  “Hey, are you okay?”

  His care c
onfused her. How could he so easily foist such a personal question onto Luke, yet look at her as if her pain mattered?

  “I’m fine,” she lied.

  “You’re worried about the paparazzi?”

  Yes, but that wasn’t her primary concern. “I’ll deal with them.”

  “Jake’s good,” Zachary reassured her. “He’ll look after you. And I promise, you’ll feel comfortable with him in minutes.”

  “I’m sure I will.” She stood then and walked towards the door. No point drawing this out. “Well, I’m sure you have lots to do before we leave. So, maybe I’ll see you later.”

  Eve said it with a casual detachment she in no way felt, and didn’t look his way as she walked. She didn’t count on him grabbing her arm as she passed, pulling her in and hauling her close to his very appealing, very solid body. “Eve?” His beautiful, unfamiliar brown eyes were clouded with worry. “What’s going on?”

  She didn’t answer. Couldn’t. His behavior with Luke might have told her one thing, but the way his body curved sinuously against hers told her another altogether. Physically the intimacy was there—in spades.

  “You’re pushing me away. Blocking me out. Why?” He ran his fingers down her cheek in a gesture so personal, Eve couldn’t breathe for a good few seconds. What the…?

  He’d traced his fingers over her face in the exact way she always did, as if he were carrying out the action for her. Sensing her discomfort and reacting as she would.

  Thrown by the familiarity of his touch—and by the physical proximity of his hand to her scars, Eve didn’t check her response. “I’m not the one doing the pushing, Zachary.”

  His face creased in confusion. “You think I’m pushing you away?”

  She bit her tongue. God, why had she said that? “Look, it’s nothing. Ignore me. You were right. I’m just upset about the press and my face being plastered over every newspaper in Australia. It’s tough to comprehend that I suddenly need a security guard just to walk down the road. I’m not used to it is all.”

  Zachary stared deep into her eyes as though he could read her thoughts. “No, that’s not all. Something else is upsetting you. Something else…like me, and I don’t know why.”