Sex, Gossip and Rock & Roll

by Nicola Marsh

  He’d been in rehab five times, in love ten and had finally sobered up enough over the past year for Hector to take a chance on reviving his career.

  Personally, she had her doubts on the hard-living rocker lasting the distance this tour let alone making another recording but Hector had a good eye for talent, old or otherwise, so she’d make sure she did a damn good job no matter how much she wanted to throttle him.

  ‘Take your time, Mr Varth. The longer you take with your day itinerary, the less time you’ll have for trawling bars tonight.’

  She bit back a grin as she heard fiddling with the lock accompanied by a string of curses before the door finally opened.

  ‘Good morning.’

  She gave him her best fake smile, designed to dazzle with just a hint of ‘don’t mess with me’ thrown in.

  ‘What’s so freaking good about it?’

  When Storm finally stepped into view, she bit the inside of her cheek to stop from laughing out loud.

  Fifty-six-year-old guys shouldn’t wear mid-thigh emerald silk kimonos, no matter how rich or famous.

  ‘You’ve studied the itinerary for today?’

  He leered at her through bleary eyes, his blond-tipped three-inch spikes standing to attention as he ruffled his hair.

  ‘Would rather study you, sweetheart.’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘We’ve already been through this. Me, tour manager, you, rock star. Professional relationship, comprende?’

  ‘I love it when you talk foreign.’

  Hanging onto the door, he leaned so far forward he almost tumbled out of the bus and she couldn’t help but laugh.

  ‘Come on, Storm, play nice.’

  Before he could make another innuendo about playing with her, she held up her hand.

  ‘Get dressed. Eat. Sign the rest of those promo photos—’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, I remember, then we tour the local music shops, sweet-talk the owners into promoting the concert tomorrow night, yada, yada, yada.’

  He waved his hand around, making the kimono gape in front and she quickly averted her eyes before she got more than an unwanted glimpse of greying chest hair and fake-tan flabby abs.

  ‘And if you’re on your best behaviour, you’ll get the afternoon off to visit Sovereign Hill.’

  For the first time this morning his expression turned animated. ‘Yeah, Tiger mentioned it looked cool on the Net.’

  ‘Kids love it,’ she said, a small part of her cynical heart softening at his obvious affection for his seven-year-old kid. Though how anyone could name their child Tiger was beyond her. ‘So snap to it.’

  His lips curved into a wicked grin and for a second she could see what countless groupies over the years must’ve found appealing.

  ‘I’ll be much quicker if you come in here and scrub my back?’

  Biting back an answering grin, she jabbed a finger in his direction.

  ‘I’ll scrub you out in a minute if you don’t hop to it. Now go! ‘

  She just caught his muttered, ‘With legs like those, can’t blame a guy for trying,’ as he blew her a kiss and shut the door.

  Shaking her head, she fished around in her handbag for her mobile, the hairs on the nape of her neck standing to attention as she sensed Luca’s presence before he spoke.

  ‘You handled him like a pro.’

  ‘It’s my job,’ she said, her breath catching as she glanced up to see Luca in head-to-toe black: black silk shirt, black trousers, black shoes.

  He looked like a corporate raider rather than a corporate financier and she instantly dismissed the briefest yearning for what it would be like for him to make a raid on her.

  ‘The guy’s a lech.’

  ‘The guy probably comes on to every woman who enters his sphere every day. I can handle it.’

  His blue eyes flashed with amusement as he folded his arms and propped against the side of the bus.

  ‘So if I step out of line, will I get that professional death glare you gave him?’

  ‘Nothing surer.’

  Finally locating her phone, she scanned her calendar for the umpteenth time this morning, wanting to make sure they were on time at every scheduled stop.

  ‘By the way, did you get the updated schedule I emailed you?’

  He tapped his head. ‘Got it. Memorised it.’

  ‘Good. Because I don’t want any hold-ups today. We need to get into those music stores, talk up the concert, promo the—’

  ‘You always this hyper first thing in the morning?’

  She didn’t know what stalled her pulse more: his hand resting lightly on her forearm as her thumb tapped manically on her mobile keypad or the curious glint in his eyes, turning them a darker, seductive indigo.

  ‘Always.’

  Shrugging his hand off, she scrolled through the key locations for the morning, her gaze focused on the screen.

  For some reason, his laid-back attitude annoyed her. This tour was a big deal and while he probably didn’t give two hoots how it panned out, considering he’d be gone in a fortnight, she expected professionalism.

  Liar.

  Every thought since he’d opened that hotel door had been one-hundred-per-cent unprofessional.

  ‘I know what I’m doing, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

  Her head snapped up and she glared at him. Another thing that annoyed her: his ability to read her when she hardly knew the guy.

  ‘You handle big money, so you said last night.’ With a last glance at her phone, she shoved it back in her bag. ‘How about you do your job and I’ll do mine?’

  His lips twitched. ‘Sounds like the spiel you just gave old Lightning.’

  She couldn’t stop the smile tugging at her mouth. ‘His name’s Storm.’

  ‘What sort of a lame-assed name is that?’

  ‘A rock star’s name, a rock star who is going to make your grandfather a lot of money if this tour goes off without a hitch so let’s make sure nothing goes wrong, okay?’

  He held his hands up and backed away. ‘Hey, I’m just the money guy. You get to keep old Storm in line.’

  ‘Lucky me,’ she muttered, her attention captured by a curtain halfway down the bus being yanked open with Storm framed in the window doing a slow strip with his kimono while mouthing words to a song she couldn’t hear, his cocky grin infuriatingly smug.

  Luca registered the momentary shock on her face and turned quickly, craning his neck, only to see an empty window where the reprobate rocker had disappeared.

  He frowned. ‘I swear, if that old fool steps out of line with you, I’ll—’

  ‘Refer to my better judgement and skills in handling anything this job throws my way, including rockers hell-bent on clinging to their misspent youth.’

  His lips compressed in an unimpressed line and a small part of her melted under his chivalry.

  She didn’t need protection but the fact Luca was willing to defend her honour made her like him all the more.

  ‘Come on, let’s run through the projected figures for the concert while we wait for his lordship to beautify himself.’

  ‘With that ugly mug, it’ll take him a week at least.’

  She laughed and fell into step beside him. ‘We can’t all be like you.’

  The minute the words tripped from her tongue she wished she could take them back.

  ‘Like me?’

  Floundering, she blurted, ‘Well dressed. Well put together.’

  Little wonder he wore a smug grin. She rolled her eyes. ‘You know what I mean.’

  ‘Thanks,’ he said, touching her arm, the merest brush of his fingertips eliciting a bolt of electricity that zapped her into a heightened awareness instantly.

  They had work to do.

  They had a fortnight to make this the best damn tour Landry Records had ever backed.

  They had a petulant rock star and his kid to please, fans to woo, crowds to draw in droves.

  Yet in that moment all she could think about was how much she’d
like to explore this incredibly strong attraction between them.

  Gritting her teeth, she picked up the pace, resolving to focus on work.

  Work was her life.

  Work kept her focused and grounded and confident in a world she’d created, a world filled with certainty and guidelines, the complete opposite of her past.

  No way, no how, would she let some guy, no matter how gorgeous and charming, muck up her equilibrium.

  She ignored the tiny voice deep inside that whispered, What if he already has?

  ‘This part of your job description?’

  Charli glanced up at Luca from where she was squatting next to a river of water, a flat pan in hand.

  ‘Whatever it takes to get the job done.’

  Luca smiled as she wobbled and almost fell into the water. ‘Dedication, I like that.’

  ‘It’s not you I’m trying to impress,’ she said, jerking her thumb towards Storm several metres away, squatting next to his son, the two of them engrossed in sifting sand and water through the pans in search of elusive gold.

  ‘Our resident rock star insisted I tag along on this expedition or he’d forget to set his alarm tomorrow morning.’

  ‘The guy’s a jerk,’ he said, but there was no venom in his tone as he stared at Storm and Tiger, their closeness hitting him like a prize fighter’s knockout punch.

  For all his faults—according to the tabloids Storm had many—the guy was seriously into his son and Luca couldn’t help but admire him for it.

  What he would’ve given for a father who cared about him … The old bitterness flared, burning deep, and he absent-mindedly rubbed his chest where a permanent ache once resided.

  Not any more. He’d done everything he could to eradicate his past, to come to terms with it, to ignore the mockery Rad had made of the term father.

  Using her shovel as a prop to stand, Charli winced as she straightened her back.

  ‘Panning for gold is killer on a girl’s manicure.’

  She didn’t fool him for a minute. Since they’d arrived at Sovereign Hill, a recreation of a settlement from the early gold-rush days, she’d run around like a kid alongside Tiger, her enthusiasm catching.

  He’d never been here; his mum had always been too busy for a day away from the city. She’d been a workaholic, a part-time mum who’d only had him as a means to an end. Shame that her nefarious plan to entrap the great Rad Landry never worked: the minute he’d learned his mistress was pregnant he’d dumped her, and none of her pitiful attempts to stay in contact could change the fact Rad hadn’t wanted a bar of either of them.

  It had killed her in the end, her unrelenting, unrequited love for the cold bastard. He’d been numb when Rad’s light plane crashed in the Blue Mountains, killing the father he never knew, but when his mum died a few weeks later from what he always suspected was a broken heart, he’d cursed and ranted at the injustice of it all, fleeing Melbourne without a backwards glance.

  ‘Want to give it a go?’

  Charli held out her shovel to him, an unspoken question in her beautiful green eyes, and he deliberately blotted out the bitterness of the past casting a blight on this day.

  ‘No, thanks, I’ll leave it to the experts.’

  Studying her blistered palm, she held it up for him to inspect. ‘Yeah, that’s me, a real expert.’

  Her rueful chuckle made him want to grab her palm and kiss away those blisters.

  ‘Admit it. You wanted to play here as much as Tiger.’

  ‘My secret’s out.’

  She smiled and it slugged him, the impact of those glossed curving lips as startling as the underlying attraction buzzing between them.

  He wasn’t a fool. He adored women; loved their long legs and lush curves and provocative eyes, their soft laughter and look-away glances and coy smiles.

  But there was something special about Charli … Maybe the hint of vulnerability beneath the tough professional façade, the glib no-nonsense way she handled Storm, the way she’d looked curled up on the couch last night, warm and relaxed in a way that appealed to him on some deeper level … Whatever it was, she intrigued him as no other woman ever had, the thought alone enough to send him bolting back to London without looking back.

  But she wasn’t the only professional around here: he had a job to do and the sooner they got through this tour, the sooner he could head back to the life he’d built for himself: tangle-free, emotion-free, commitment-free.

  She jabbed her shovel in the dirt, leaned on it, giving a subtle jerk of her head in Storm’s direction. ‘When I first heard Storm was dragging along his illegitimate brat on this tour, I had visions of tantrums, but Tiger’s a real sweetheart. Nothing like his dad.’

  He froze, a sliver of disgust wiggling deep in a place he’d shut off years earlier. He hated that word: illegitimate. Had heard it bandied around far too often, had bore it as a slur, had spent years as a rebellious teenager trying to ignore the fact his father didn’t want to have anything to do with him despite the efforts of his mum.

  Bastard was the least of the insults he’d borne at the private boys’ school Pop had funded for him to go to.

  Charli’s eyes widened, her expression stricken. ‘I’m sorry, that was out of line. I didn’t mean—’

  ‘Forget it.’

  He did, every day he did something to make himself proud to be a Petrelli.

  She gnawed on her bottom lip, shifting from foot to foot, before blurting, ‘Does it bother you?’

  ‘Not being a real Landry? Being the famous Rad’s bastard kid?’

  Being shunned by the entire family bar Pop? Being ignored when Mum approached Rad in the street? Being booted out of his father’s funeral, relegated to nothing status? Being sneered and jeered at during Father’s Day at school because he didn’t have one?

  Quashing the old resentment bubbling dangerously to the surface, he shook his head.

  ‘Mum was a fool, having an affair with an engaged guy then deliberately falling pregnant to trap him. Rad never would’ve married her. He dumped her so fast her head spun but that didn’t stop her loving him or spending her life trying to get him to acknowledge her, and me.’

  The sadness in her eyes slugged him more than her damn pity.

  ‘Mum loved me in her own way but Rad was her world. I never knew if she really wanted a kid or I was just her tool as easy access to Rad’s fortune but, whatever her motivation, I pretty much lost respect for her when she continued to chase him all those years for no return.’

  He clamped his lips shut, wishing he hadn’t said half of that, wondering what it was about this woman that made him feel as if he’d known her a lifetime.

  ‘I had no idea—’

  ‘Yeah, that’s me, the Landrys’ dirty little secret.’

  And despite all he’d done over the years, how far he’d run from his past, the truth still hurt.

  ‘Now that I’ve bored you enough with my rundown of happy families Landry-style, why don’t you stop slacking off and get back to your itinerary?’

  She hesitated, dithering over whether to push him for more or console him. To his immense relief, she pulled her shovel free and handed it to him.

  ‘Here, Mr Hotshot Financier, pull your weight. Start digging.’

  When she shot him an understanding wink, she rose further in his estimation. Most women he knew wouldn’t let a juicy story go. They’d delve and probe, eager for gossip, desperate to get the dirt and a way to wheedle their way beneath his determined aloofness.

  Charli did none of that. She took the heat off him, respected his privacy, and he admired her for it.

  Promising Tiger they’d find gold before he and Storm returned from their underground mine tour, he grabbed the shovel and spent the next fifteen minutes trying to concentrate on shovelling silt and water into her pan as she shook off the top layer, ducked it in more water and shook it again, and not focusing on the way her butt shimmied and her breasts swayed beneath her tight pink T-shirt.

&nbs
p; He tried hard, he really did, but by the time she was sifting her last pan of silt, he was ready to fling her over his shoulder, jog back to their apartment and pleasure her all afternoon.

  ‘Hey, look, I found gold!’

  She jumped up and down, grinning like a kid seeing Santa for the first time, brandishing her pan as if she’d discovered the Hand of Faith.

  ‘Show me.’

  ‘There.’

  He peered into her pan, squinting, stifling a grin when he spotted a tiny fleck no bigger than an ant.

  Glancing up, he saw her triumphant smile and the excited glitter turning her eyes to moss, and bit back his first teasing response, something along the lines of ‘don’t give up your day job’.

  ‘Good on you,’ he said, stabbing his shovel into the sand and rolling out the kinks in his neck. ‘Tiger will be rapt. What’s next?’

  ‘Storm and Tiger want to do a wagon ride and gold-pouring exhibition after the mine, so we’ll check that out first and leave the most important part of the itinerary ‘til last.’

  Clueless, he raised an eyebrow.

  ‘The lolly shop,’ she said, patting her tummy, drawing his attention and making his libido flare.

  As he dragged his gaze upwards their eyes locked and the invisible sizzle of attraction that had been there from the very start blazed to life, tugging them closer against their will, insistent, undeniable.

  He expected her to look away first, to mumble some excuse about getting on with it, but she stood there, her eyes sparkling with mischief, her cheeks flushed an alluring pink.

  ‘Know what I think?’

  Her tongue flicked out to moisten her bottom lip, reaction slamming into him with the force of a kiss. ‘What? ‘

  ‘We should skip all that other stuff and go straight for the goodies.’

  He wasn’t talking about sweets and she knew it, her hungry gaze dropping to his lips, lingering there, giving him the courage to slide a hand around her waist and ease her into him until their bodies moulded.

  She didn’t pull away. Instead, her tiny wistful sigh wheedled its way into the most unexpected place: his heart.

  Hell, no.

  His heart was the least likely organ affected when he had a beautiful woman in his arms. He liked it that way, deliberately focused on everything but. Yet something about Charli had him wanting to hold her, cherish her and that was enough of a wake-up call for him to drop a quick peck on her lips and release her.