With war at stake, can Alara and Zarik choose love?
Something True by Malia Mallory
Chapter 1
“Vera, you’ve got to be kidding me. Liam Smith? What would he do?” She rolled her eyes at the thought of the famous rock star giving time to her small children’s charity.
“He’s a musician, Shelley. Isn’t it obvious?” Vera’s wry voice was both indulgent and impatient. “He could perform for the kids. He could call some of his friends and solicit donations. Something. Anything. Aren’t you always saying you need more hands?”
“Yes, willing hands.” Shelley recruited volunteers wherever she found them. More than one unsuspecting person had been transformed from stranger to stalwart supporter by Shelley’s enthusiasm for bringing music to hospitalized children. She hoped one day to expand her program beyond the local medical center, where it was established.
“He’s more than willing, according to his agent.”
Shelley rubbed the bridge of her nose with her finger. “KC’s Kidz is a charity for children. He’s not exactly a role model.” Liam Smith was in the tabloids repeatedly for his bad boy antics—drinking, drugs, fast cars, and even faster women.
“He’s trying to reform. He wants to help.”
Shelley took a deep breath. “I find that very difficult to believe.”
“Sweetie, I’m surprised at you. You’re usually the first person to give someone a chance.” It was true and it had gotten her into trouble more than once. Having had her heart broken by her cheating scum of an ex-boyfriend, she didn’t feel up to hanging around with a rampant womanizer, even for the sake of KC’s Kidz.
Vera continued with barely a pause. “Think about this a minute. His presence could bring attention to KC’s Kidz. Attention means donations.” Publicity was good. It could bring donors. But Liam Smith was just bad publicity waiting to happen. The reputation of KC’s Kidz was too important to risk.
Shelley sighed. Raising donations was a big part of her job. “That’s true, but I’m sure there are lots of organizations that would love to have his help.”
Vera pressed her case. “You’d be doing me a huge favor. I owe a solid to his agent.”
Shelley felt her resistance crumble and she didn’t like it one bit. Vera believed in Shelley from the start and helped her negotiate the tangled music industry. Her agent had been an enthusiastic advocate, guiding Shelley from performances at the local public library through several moderately successful albums and even local appearances. She owed Vera big time, and Shelley was a notoriously soft touch.
“Okay. Okay. When?”
~ * ~ * ~
Liam brushed his hair out of his eyes. If it were up to him, he’d cut the hair off, but his fans liked it a bit longer. When he’d gotten it buzzed, social media erupted with outrage. “David, I haven’t been sentenced yet.”
“I’ve spoken with your attorney, and we both agree it’s time to be proactive. This fouls up your probation. We’re hoping for community service, and we think if you show you’re already trying to make changes, that’ll go a long way with the judge.”
Liam scoffed. “I don’t think there’s anything to worry about.”
“You never do. That’s part of the problem. Let me be flat out honest with you, Liam. I’m worried about you. When you were twenty, these antics could be written off as growing pains and adjusting to fame. Not now. This judge is tough. If she actually decides to give you a hard time, it could throw off the whole tour schedule. There are people counting on you, and a good deal of money is at stake. You need to clean up your act—period. And you need to show this judge that you’re already on a different road. The right road.”
“There’s been a settlement. I don’t even know why I still have to appear.” Liam maintained his tough facade for his agent, but the accident scared him. Fortunately, he hadn’t been drinking or using, only speeding, but that had been enough for him to lose control of his car.
“See? That right there is the problem, Liam. You are endlessly talented, but you’ve lost perspective. The rules apply to you same as everyone else. If you keep going on like you are, someone is going to get seriously hurt. It might be you.”
Liam sighed. “I’m fine.” Tension crept up his back, knotting in his shoulders.
“Ask yourself this,” David snapped. “If you’d hit a person with your car instead of a plate glass window, could you live with yourself? Seriously. You need to get your head on straight. You’re lucky your blood work was good.”
Liam stiffened. He’d worked hard over the last year to stay clean and was determined to stay that way. “I went to rehab. I stayed the full thirty. It’s all under control. It was over a year ago, for fuck’s sake.”
“Why don’t I believe you?” David sounded weary.
“I don’t know, David, why don’t you?” Liam had eased up on his drinking as well. His days of hard partying all night were behind him. He was a better musician for it and he knew it.
“Because I don’t believe you’ve actually stopped. I believe you think you can handle it. Look at Rob.”
“Fuck Rob. I’m not Rob.” The band’s drummer was currently in rehab and due out soon.
Liam hadn’t had more than a beer in weeks. Running his Ferrari into a Chinese restaurant showed him he’d better keep his racing limited to a track. Thankfully, it had been after hours and no one had been hurt. He’d paid to have the place repaired. Hell, it looked better now than before.
Liam tamped down his anger. “David, I don’t want to discuss this anymore.”
“Be there 9 a.m. Monday morning. I mean it. I’ll text you the address.”
~ * ~ * ~
Footsteps echoed on the tile and Shelley looked up from the stack of paperwork on her desk. The air shimmered around him. She would have known him anywhere. Anyone would have known him. Liam Smith was famous or perhaps even infamous. Musical talent and outrageous behavior were on display in sold-out stadiums and lurid tabloids. As a fellow musician, she admired his talent for setting clever turns of phrase to music, but rumors of hard-partying and illegal drugs dogged him.
He tilted his head. “Shelley?”
He sounded just as she knew he would, deep, smooth with a hint of Irish. The warm resonance of his voice washed over her, more compelling in person than she imagined was possible. The radio simply didn’t do him justice.
An involuntary tingle settled low in her belly, and she finally understood why women went so wild for Liam. Glossy black hair swept over his forehead above luminous emerald eyes, reminiscent of the verdant green pastures of Ireland, where he’d grown to a man. He was long and lean, but his navy shirt clung to the manly muscles underneath. His bare forearms were roped with matching tattoos.
Shelley shook herself free of his unexpected spell. “I’m Shelley.”
“I’m Liam Smith.” He reached out to shake her hand.
Shelley accepted the handshake automatically. Did anyone not know who Liam Smith was? She supposed that might be true in some deep hidden pocket of the world. “Vera told me to expect you.”
“Vera would be your agent then?” The corner of his mouth curled into a lopsided smile.
“Yes, she assured me that your interest in helping KC’s Kidz is genuine.” Her voice held the hint of doubt.
A wide grin split his face. Shelley was a sucker for a great smile and his was a killer. Wasn’t she well past the stage where a handsome face would turn her head? Apparently not, if Liam’s was anything to go by.
Liam moved out of the doorway. “It is.”
“Extra hands are always welcome. There’s plenty to do.” Shelley tried to convey a no nonsense attitude.
“Just tell me when and where.” Liam rocked on his feet, seemingly ready to pounce into action.
Shelley blinked, confused. “You’re here now?”
Liam pointed out the window. “I’ve got a guitar in the car. I’m ready to go.”
“Ready to go where?” Shelley shuffled throug
h some papers and put them in a stack to the side.
“To play. You know.” Liam mimicked strumming a guitar. “Isn’t that what you do? Play music for kids?”
“That’s one thing we do.” KC’s Kidz also required endless fund-raising, grant writing and organization.
“Well, that’s what I’m here for,” he said as if it were all obvious.
Shelley’s lips thinned. “I don’t just send someone on over to the hospital. It doesn’t work that way.”
“What could be so complicated about it?” For the first time since he walked into the office, a crack appeared in his friendly demeanor.
“Some of these children have special challenges. It can be difficult to engage them. It’s unlikely you’d walk in right off the street and have a successful appearance.”
Liam smoothed his expression. “I don’t mean to sound arrogant.”
“You’re right. I’m sure the kids would go wild over a big star like you. However, I’m not sending over someone from KC’s Kidz unless they’ve been trained and I trust them to handle things.”
Liam took a deep breath. “Fine. Where do I start?”
“We have toy donations to sort.” It was true. Shelley had been too busy to attend to the toy donations and most of the other volunteers were busy with preparations for their annual fund-raising dinner, which was coming up soon.
“Sort toys?” Liam didn’t hide his confusion.
“Yes,” Shelley replied.
“Do you think that is a good use of my time?” Liam asked.
“It’s something that needs to be done and you said you wanted to help.” Shelley tamped down her irritation. This is why she hadn’t wanted to agree to this arrangement in the first place. Sometimes volunteers thought it was all concerts and celebrities and didn’t stick around when they found out otherwise.
Liam laughed. “Fine. Show me the toys.” The hint of impatience melted away.
Shelley hid her smile and rose to her feet. She was almost tempted to direct him to something he would find even more distasteful. Maybe she should tell him the toilets needed cleaning. Her lips twitched as she imagined his reaction.
She approached the door, but Liam didn’t immediately move to let her pass. He was close. Too close. Her blood rushed through her veins and her breath caught. She saw Liam’s pupils contract as their eyes locked. Irritation rose within her. She didn’t plan on turning into some kind of teenage groupie. She brushed past him and her elbow burned where it bumped his bare forearm.
Shelley consciously steadied her steps as she entered the hall and walked to the storeroom. She didn’t look to see if Liam followed. Her body told her he was behind her. She pulled a keyring out of her pocket, unlocked the door, and pushed it open. She reached inside and flipped on the light. Boxes lined one wall. “These are donated toys. Most of them should be new. If you find one that is questionable, put it to the side. Otherwise sort the toys by age.”
“Uh, how do I do that?” He picked up a doll and eyed it warily.
“The age that the toy is appropriate for. You know, infants and such? Usually we sort by infant, early toddler, late toddler, and child. We don’t usually get too much stuff for older kids.” Most of the children served by KC’s Kidz were under twelve, but sometimes the charity hosted events for teens.
“What’s early toddler?” Liam dropped the doll and picked up a spiky ball that glowed when you squeezed it.
“Like two. Some of the toys will be marked with suggested ages. Look at the box. Think back to your own childhood.”
~ * ~ * ~
Think back to your own childhood.
Liam didn’t want to do that. His had been an upbringing plagued by poverty and the drink. If Da was stumbling when he came through the door, Liam knew enough to scuttle away. His father, usually a jovial, outgoing fellow, was a mean drunk, fast with his fists on anyone who was unlucky enough to come within reach, whether it be Liam or his mother. Too many nights, Liam had gone to bed with a rumbling stomach. Toys? Store bought toys were a luxury absent from his house. The outdoors had been his playground along with the guitar given to him by his uncle. Hours of practice sitting within the stones near his home had honed his skills. He’d been playing in the local pub by twelve and touring the county at fourteen.
But Liam didn’t say any of this. It didn’t jibe with the story his publicist provided. In interviews, he spoke of Ireland with nostalgia and longing. He didn’t share how glad he was to be free of it all. There was no one to contradict him. His parents both died in a car accident, courtesy of his father’s drinking, when he’d been away performing in Dublin.
When he didn’t answer immediately, Shelley continued, “Don’t worry, most of the boxes have suggested ages, like I said.”
“Right.” A curling strand of her long, caramel-colored hair fell over her cheek, and Liam had the most absurd desire to brush it back. What would she do if he did? Her skin looked so soft and touchable. Liam loved women—tall, short, thick or thin—he loved them all. Shelley was curvy in all the right places, giving a man something to grab onto. Somehow though, he didn’t think she’d be receptive to him saying such a thing at this very moment. In fact, he’d wager he’d get a slap in the face for his efforts. Or not. Shelley didn’t actually seem like the overly-dramatic type. But she did look dubious. She didn’t believe he could do this—that he would do this. She probably found it very amusing to set him to work sorting toys when his expectation had been to play a little music and then be on his way.
Shelley swept the hair over her ear. “Are you set?”
“Yeah. Sure. I got it.” Liam was determined to muddle through. He’d show her he was serious.
“Okay. Great. I have a grant application to finish.” Shelley took a step toward the door.
“I got it,” he assured her again. Liam tensed. He didn’t usually babble like an idiot. Her eyes were distracting though—a startling, tawny brown a few shades darker than her hair.
Shelley tilted her head and her hair cascaded over her shoulder. “I’ll leave you to it then.”
Liam’s eyes followed the strands—blonde, brown, gold. How many colors were there?
Shelley turned and walked out. Liam snuck a peek at her ass. A fine arse it was too, curved and round, filling out her jeans in a very enticing way. Perhaps this community service business would have some perks after all.
~ * ~ * ~
Shelley sunk into her chair, her heart still thumping. Liam packed a powerful punch, and she suspected he knew it. Her reaction was unexpected and alarming. She’d been guarding herself carefully since her ex-boyfriend dumped her. He hadn’t just broken her heart by telling her it was over. He’d also seen fit to destroy her self-esteem with a string of complaints ranging from the frequency of their sex to the size of her hips. He’d blindsided her and, even now she felt a twinge of embarrassment when thinking of him. She knew he was an asshole, but he was an asshole she’d been in love with.
She’d tried to placate herself with all the standard platitudes. It takes two to make a relationship, but one to break it. There are other fish in the sea. You’ll find love when you stop looking for it. If the last was true, she should have found love six times over. She avoided personal involvement like the plague, not ready to expose herself again. She’d relaxed with Scott—been completely herself, and he’d rejected her.
Though intellectually she told herself he was clearly not the right guy for her, emotionally her heart still felt bruised. She’d moved from beating herself up over the breakup to berating herself for still caring about it. Next time her mother called wanting to set her up, maybe Shelley would let her.
Chapter 2
Shelley licked the last envelope and relaxed back into her seat. As her back protested, she promised herself that a new chair was on the list if any of the grants came through.
Gathering her things, Shelley made her way out of the office. Her steps were heavy, and she rolled her head, cracking her neck. Eerie silence gree
ted her in the hallway. All the other volunteers had left hours ago. She grimaced as she spied the open storeroom door. It wasn’t a big deal, really. All the doors needed to be checked before she left. As she reached for the doorknob, she realized the storeroom wasn’t empty.
Shelley stepped inside. “Liam?”
He turned. “Yeah?”
“Wow, you’re still here?” Shelley glanced at the boxes and bins. Everything appeared much neater than it had been earlier.
He shrugged. “I guess I lost track.”
“I’m going to lock up now.” Shelley figured Liam had left hours ago. She felt bad for not checking on him earlier.
“Cool. I was almost done here, anyway.” Liam crisscrossed the flaps on a box.
Shelley stepped into the hall, jangling her keys. Being nervous was silly. Liam stayed late. So what? What did she think he was going to do, kiss her? On the heels of that thought, Shelley wondered, do I want him to? Attraction was a funny thing. Even though she knew what kind of person he was, a part of her was drawn to him—as were millions of fans. Some people just had that magnetism, and Liam was one of them.
Liam flipped off the light and pulled the door shut. He gestured down the hall. “Shall we?”
Shelley nodded. “I’m ready. It’s been a long day.”
Liam matched his stride to hers. “So, what is it you’ve been doing? I thought KC’s Kidz was mostly about the music.”
“That’s the main thrust, but we raise funds for our own operating costs, toy drives, and for programs at the hospital. One of our projects was repainting the MRI rooms to make them fun instead of scary.”
“I guess tests can be scary for kids.”
Shelley looked Liam’s way and blinked twice as she realized he was studying her. “Scary and noisy. Now, it is more like an adventure, and it cuts down on kids having to be sedated.”
“They have to knock them out?”
Crazy About Curves: 10 Luscious Reads Page 95