by Eden Summers
“Yeah, I didn’t think so. You weren’t the screaming groupie type.” He wriggled his fingers against her ribcage, and she gasped at the tickling sensation shooting through her body. Before tonight, she would’ve agreed that she wasn’t the screaming groupie type. However, right now her lungs burned with something hot and needy, pleading to be released.
“Lynch is the lead singer. Mason Lynch. Blake, who I introduced you to before, is the bass guitarist. The guy on stage with the shoulder length wavy hair is Ryan. He plays rhythm guitar. Then there’s Sean on drums. But for the love of god, if you ever meet the guy, don’t tell him I mentioned his name last. He has an inferiority complex.”
He came to a stop, held her tighter in his arms, and kicked out his leg. His shoe thudded against what she assumed was the suite door.
“Mitchell!” she wriggled, trying to get him to put her down even though she didn’t want to be out of his arms. “Let me go so you can knock on the door.”
“I’m fine. Blake will answer the door in a sec...as long as he isn’t in the middle of increasing the band’s popularity with your friend.”
“What do you... Oh.” Her cheeks heated. “Sorry. I’m a bit slow.” She was an idiot. It wasn’t as if she expected Kate to be in there playing Solitaire. Alana had been savoring the joys of living vicariously through her friend for years.
He booted the door again.
“Oh, for Christ sake. Put me—”
She heard the door handle turn and the sound of the door scraping over the carpet.
“Al.” Kate’s voice held a note of panic.
Alana tried to open her eyes, only to close them seconds later when the scratching and blurred vision became too much. “I’m fine.”
Mitchell strode forward, and the light behind her lids darkened. “She’s not fine,” he growled, suddenly sounding more protective and territorial. “Where’s Blake?”
“He’s on the hotel phone. It started to ring a few seconds before you knocked on the door.”
Alana pivoted and turned through the darkness until Mitchell lowered her. The back of her legs hit something firm but soft and she settled down into the sofa. Large hands squeezed her knees and she pressed her lips together, holding back a sigh. They were Mitchell’s hands. His warm, strong, talented hands.
“Will you be all right for a minute? Can I get you a drink or something?”
She shook her head and hoped her voice wouldn’t come out raspy. “I’m fine.”
“I’m going to see what’s happening with the phone call. I’ll be straight back.”
She nodded and let out a deep breath when his presence slipped away. It was stupid and crazy and foolish, and yet she already missed his nearness.
“What the hell happened?” Kate’s voice came from beside her as the sofa dipped.
Clenching her lids tighter with the abrupt slip into vertigo, Alana leaned back in the seat. “Slight altercation downstairs.”
“Slight altercation?”
She sensed Kate hovering close to her face, peering down at her. Blake’s voice came soft from the other side of the room, along with Mitchell’s frantic whispers. Their conversation was too quiet for her to make out, so she passed the lonely minutes reciting what happened to her friend.
“Can I have a look?” Kate’s breath brushed along her cheek.
Taking a deep breath, Alana tried to open her eyes again. When she lifted her lids the scratching sensation caused her to blink rapidly, which only made the discomfort worse. All she could see were different shades of shadow lingering close to her face.
“Sorry,” Kate whispered. “I thought I might be able to see something.”
A cupboard squeaked from the other side of the room, and moments later a familiar hand cupped hers. “Here’s a drink of water. Can you grab it for me?”
Their fingers brushed when she grasped the glass and a buzz of hyper awareness rushed through her veins.
“The optometrist will be ready to see us in around twenty minutes.”
Fate was cruel. Earlier, she’d been reluctant to meet him, now she didn’t want to leave. Alana ran a finger up and down the glass, procrastinating, buying a few more moments in his presence. She had to say goodbye. A famous musician had better things to do with his time.
“Kate can take me.” The words sounded reluctant even to her ears.
“Yea—” Kate stopped mid word.
Alana turned her head toward Kate, then to Mitchell, and back again. They were silently communicating, and Alana didn’t like it.
“No, I’ll take you.” Mitchell clutched her knee, and she fought the urge to squeeze her thighs together. Surely there had to be a hierarchy of priorities in a situation like this, and sexual desires shouldn’t be at the top of the list. “I already have a driver waiting.”
Another uncomfortable silence followed, broken only by Blake clearing his throat in the distance. She wanted to growl in frustration, even blinked her eyes open to try and see what they were doing, but it was no use.
“Maybe I can stay here and have a quick nap while Mitch takes you. It won’t be long until I have to get up for work and I could use some sleep.”
Alana faced Kate. She felt like a burden to everyone and didn’t know who to intrude upon. Should she trust her instincts and go with the intense stranger who wanted to take care of her, or beg her friend to give her the safer option?
“Sorry, I forgot you have to work in the morning.”
“Technically, it’s today, but I’m not too worried. I can run on a few hours sleep.” A tender hand rested on her shoulder and squeezed.
Alana mentally pulled up her big girl panties and raised her chin. She trusted Kate to help lead her into the right decision, and if Mitchell was determined to take her, it would be stupid to protest. “All right.”
She held out her glass and someone took it. Mitchell’s hand supported her elbow as she moved to her feet, and his heady scent filled her nostrils. “I guess that means you’ll be helping me wash my face and use the facilities too.”
Mitch led Alana from the car with one arm around her back, and his other hand entwined with hers. He’d dug himself into a hole simply fighting for the opportunity to take her to the optometrist.
When Kate had begun to agree to drive Alana herself, he’d fixed her with a frown and shook his head. She stared at him in question, but didn’t say a word. Not until Alana was in the bathroom. That’s when the fan girl antics started.
“You feel obligated to help her, don’t you?”
A few tired seconds passed before he understood what the hell she was talking about.
“I watched the interview you did with Sandra Waters a few years ago. You helped resuscitate the groupie who overdosed on your tour bus.”
Mitch clenched his jaw and raised an eyebrow while she continued.
“I remember your offhanded comment about always wanting to help people. You said you felt obligated to stick around until things were resolved. You mentioned you learned it from your mother who’s a charity volunteer.”
Oh, Mitch remembered too. The whole situation had been a publicity stunt. Well to a degree anyway. One of their groupies had come close to permanently checking out on the bus.
Instead of leaving the media’s focus on the bad influence of musicians using drugs, they fudged the facts. With his mom being a long serving supporter and volunteer for numerous charities, they used him as the scapegoat and turned the story around to an uplifting piece on how he saved the life of a fan.
At the time of the nationally broadcasted interview, he’d still been in shock at watching a woman almost choke to death on her own vomit. None of them were aware of the drug use. He’d been so traumatized that he repeated exactly what his PR manager suggested. In the end, it made him appear to be a man who went above and beyond to be a Good Samaritan, instead of the freak under pressure that he was.
But he couldn’t tell Kate it was a load of B.S. so he nodded.
Technically, it wasn’t a lie. For st
arters, he did feel obligated to help Alana. He also needed to figure out why she seemed important to him—why he didn’t want to watch her leave. The fact that he yearned to get her naked and hear her sigh his name in pleasure came in a close third.
The optometrist’s lights glowed in the darkness of early morning, and a slim woman with gray hair walked toward the sliding doors to meet them.
“You must be Mr. Davies and Ms. Shelton. I’m Louise Pierce.”
He smiled at her. “Please call me Mitch. And this is Alana.” He would’ve offered his hand, but he had no intention of letting go of the warm bundle in his arms anytime soon.
“Nice to meet you, Mitch.” She indicated for them to move inside and locked the door behind them. “So, how are you doing, Alana?”
He squeezed Alana tight around the waist, offering his support.
“I’m all right. A little worried. I’m hoping the damage isn’t permanent.”
Louise strode alongside them, helping lead Alana to the back of the building. “Well, let’s take a look. You can wait out here, Mitch.”
He dropped his arms from around Alana’s body, and a sudden chill swept over him. The women walked away, heading to the first door down the hall. Muffled words brushed his ears as he inspected the display cases filled with glasses, each step bringing him closer to where Alana and Louise spoke.
“These drops will help to show any damage to your cornea. They may sting a little.”
Mitch paused, waiting for a gasp, an oath, a whimper. When nothing came he relaxed a little, still inching further down the hall.
“Now, I’m going to turn the light off and take a look.”
He moved closer, making sure his footsteps were silent.
“Ouch. Yes, you have done a bit of damage, haven’t you?”
“What does that mean?”
“Oh, honey, it isn’t anything to be concerned about. There are scratches in both eyes, but none of them are deep enough to cause permanent damage.”
Mitch hovered at the side of the doorway.
“Are there any glass splinters in there? It feels horrible and I can’t keep my eyes open.”
His heart ached at her discomfort, and still, he had no idea why. Those fleeting moments where he peered down at her from the stage had crawled under his skin and settled uncomfortably in his chest. He wanted to help her. Comfort her. Make love to her. And his soul demanded he do it now.
“No, there’s no debris. The pain comes from moving your eyelids over the abrasions when you open and close your eyes. It’s temporary. Corneas heal rapidly.”
The light flicked on, and Mitch jerked back out of view.
“Now, I’m going to get you to wear some bandage contacts. They will cover the scratches so it doesn’t hurt to blink your eyes. They also speed up the recovery time and lessen the risk of infection.”
“All right.” Alana’s voice came soft and hesitant.
“Have you worn contacts before?”
Cupboards opened and closed, followed by the tear of cardboard and the squeak of ripped plastic.
“No. I’ve never had problems with my sight.”
“OK, rest your head back and try to keep both eyes open as long as you can…There, the first one is done…and…the second one too. You’re a pro.”
Alana chuckled. “That feels better already. Didn’t help with the sight though.”
“No it won’t help with that at all.” A chair creaked. “You’re going to need someone to take care of you for at least a day or two. Until the damage begins to heal and you can see again.”
Deafening silence filled the air. He peeked his head around the doorframe to take another look. Alana sat in the hydraulic chair, her forehead wrinkled in concern, her eyes open and staring straight ahead. He’d almost forgotten how gorgeous those light green irises were.
Louise stopped scribbling on a piece of paper at her desk and glanced over her shoulder. “Is everything all right, honey?”
Alana shook her head and raked her fingers through the loose strands of her hair. “I’m not from Richmond, and the friend I’m staying with is working tomorrow.” She lowered her voice. “I’m not sure how I’m going to cope on my own.”
Mitch pressed a clenched fist against his mouth to hold in his offer to help. For starters, he wasn’t meant to be hovering in the doorway.
“How about your boyfriend? I’m sure Mitch or one of his family members wouldn’t mind having you around for a while.”
A grin pulled at his lips when the tops of Alana’s cheeks darkened.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” she whispered. “He’s...” She bit her bottom lip. “He can’t take care of me.”
Like hell he couldn’t.
“You can stay with me.” He stepped into the middle of the doorway and Louise turned to smile at him. Alana shook her head, and he now noticed the dark smudges of fatigue under her eyes.
“We can discuss it back at the hotel.” He reached for the piece of paper Louise held out and read the name of the eye drops he needed to organize the concierge to buy. “It’s already past three o’clock. We need sleep.”
Alana rubbed her eyelids and began to stand. “Thank you so much for seeing me in the middle of the night, Louise.”
Mitch rushed to grab her arm, steadying her while she stepped from the chairs platform.
“Not a problem at all. My son was thrilled I could help one of his idols.”
“I’ll make sure the band sends him something as a thank you.” He glanced at Louise who beamed a bright smile and led Alana from the room. He stopped at the front counter, made sure Alana was stable, and pulled out his wallet. He grabbed some bills, more than enough to cover a call out at this insane hour and placed it down. “Thanks for everything.”
Louise glanced at the money, then back up at him and shook her head with wide eyes.
Before she protested, he grabbed Alana’s elbow and led her into the cool spring night. The driver started the car on their approach and climbed out to open the back door.
“Everything go well, Mr. Davies?”
Mitch placed his hand on top of Alana’s head to ensure she didn’t hit herself when climbing into the car. “In a few days she will be back to normal.” A few days in which he planned to sate his desire for her and get the cloying need to protect a fragile stranger out of his system.
* * *
Alana’s eyes no longer burned with every brush of her eyelids, yet she still couldn’t stand to have them open. Her vision was like an out of focus image. She could distinguish light and dark and shades of color, but nothing else. Each object bled into the next, up close or far away, it didn’t matter. Nothing was clear. And it made her dizzy.
Closing her eyes, she nestled further into Mitchell’s shoulder. His arm rested behind her neck. The side of his body pressed up against hers, providing warmth and comfort. She inhaled his scent, pulled it deep into her lungs, and sighed. He was a fairytale. A handsome and strong and protective fairytale, and she wasn’t ready for it to end.
The soft, chilled leather of the backseat reminded her of cool sheets on a nice clean bed. Or maybe her thoughts were in the bedroom because of the gorgeous man beside her. She wanted to see him naked. To learn his body, to touch and stroke and claw. She wanted his lips on her mouth, not her forehead. His fingers on her breasts, not her shoulders.
A smile pulled at her lips and she wrapped her arms around his waist. The dark of sleep tugged her harder, making consciousness waver. His hands moved around her back, underneath her knees and she jerked to awareness.
“Shh,” he spoke close to her ear. “Let me carry you upstairs, and you can fall back asleep in my arms.”
His words were fuzzy and tickled her neck. She must be dreaming.
She relaxed into the pull of his arms and settled into his chest once he stood. This morning she awoke with the fear of the unknown. Tonight she would sleep with heavenly dreams of a stranger’s embrace.
“No.” She mumbled and blinked
her eyes. “I have to wake up. Kate needs to drive us home, and I don’t want to be half asleep when she does.”
“You’re not leaving tonight, sweetheart.” His words were soft, yet brook no argument. “It’s only a few hours until dawn. You already said Kate has to work today. Let her sleep, and first thing in the morning we can sort everything out.”
She didn’t argue. She didn’t want to. It was only common courtesy which nudged her to leave in the first place. Better to leave the arms of a rock star on a good note, than be remembered as the blind woman who wouldn’t let go.
She remained quiet until they reached his suite. “Please put me down.”
He squeezed her tight before letting the arm underneath her legs fall. A click sounded, then a buzz, followed by a slide of the door. His fingers came to rest on the low of her back, and he grasped her other hand, leading her forward.
“The lights are out,” he whispered. “Kate isn’t on the couch. She must be in Blake’s room.”
Alana envied her friends free spirit and the way she enjoyed herself with men. Kate wasn’t easy with her body, she just wasn’t afraid to share herself in the name of pleasure. More importantly, Kate loved sex.
Alana thought the whole intimacy thing was a bit of an anti-climax. Maybe things were different in a committed relationship. Over time, a man would learn a woman’s wants and desires. But at her age, she still hadn’t experience the big O with a partner.
“This is my room.”
She sucked in a breath before she could suppress her shock.
“Don’t worry,” he spoke close to her ear, causing goose bumps to form over her skin. “I’ll sleep on the sofa.”
Sofa? Her mood changed from a frenzy of anticipation, to increasing disappointment. Anger at herself and the way her mother had brought her up to be on the defensive around such a gentle man, bubbled low in her belly. She clenched her fists at her sides and hoped the room was dark enough for Mitchell not to notice.
Any other woman would’ve straddled him by now or bared her breasts and laid herself out like a platter to be devoured. She needed to get over herself, over the insecurities her mother had heaped on her shoulders and experience life for herself. Mistakes and all.
