Turbulent Sea

by Christine Feehan

  The food was surprisingly good, or maybe they were all just very hungry. Joley tried not to be so aware of Ilya. He had such a powerful energy, yet he seemed to be able to blend into the background, which made no sense until she detected the subtle flow of power in the room. He used his gifts to aid him in disappearing in plain sight, which was probably how he'd kept her palm from giving away his presence earlier.

  Conversation flowed around her, and Joley managed to laugh at the appropriate places, but she didn't feel like it. Outside her family and Jonas, Brian had been her closest friend. She had been always been extra careful never to intrude on his thoughts. She enjoyed his company and looked forward to their conversations. He came from a very wealthy family and had attended private school, although he'd always remained best friends with the band members, from the time they were young boys first playing sports together. He dressed a little neater and had incredible manners and definitely was more sensitive toward others. He was probably everyone's favorite. And he'd always been the most diplomatic--until now.

  "Hey, Joley," Jerry said, "you falling asleep on us?"

  "The scintillating conversation is so profound, how could I ever fall sleep?" Joley let her head droop onto the table and pretended to snore.

  Ilya's gaze narrowed when Rick threw a biscuit at her and then leaned over to brush the hair from her face, his fingers staying on the silken strands of her hair. The touch held enough affection that Ilya's belly knotted up. He had observed the waitresses and cooks taking numerous pictures of the band and Joley eating. A couple of them had tried to take videos, and he was fairly certain that before dawn the videos would be playing on the Internet.

  Joley looked up suddenly and her gaze collided with his. She sent him a small, sad smile that nearly tore out his heart. It was a jolt to feel such deep emotion just from one little exchange. He knew she was upset. Why didn't her friends know? How could they all sit there, joking and laughing when she wanted to cry? He had the urge to simply pick her up, cradle her close and take her out of there.

  Jerry glanced at his watch. "Let's give these folks a couple of pictures and get on the road. We have a schedule."

  Ilya moved into a better position to protect Joley as the band began to pose for photographs with the waitresses and kitchen staff. She was gracious and talked to each one of them, shaking hands when they were offered, even though he could see by her expression that was being overwhelmed with emotion and information about each person.

  More people entered the diner, and Ilya was aware of cars pulling into the parking lot. He waded through the group and took Joley's elbow, smiling politely, but distantly, making certain to look as intimidating as possible.

  "Miss Drake, if you don't leave now, you won't make your next concert on time," he reminded her, already moving her away from the growing crowd.

  She went with him, staying close to his body but giving him enough room to maneuver should he have to. Twice she brushed against him, and she had to have felt the harness beneath his jacket as they walked out the door into the parking lot.

  Her cell phone rang and she paused to flip it open.

  "Bitch." The voice was distorted but loud enough for Ilya to hear.

  She looked up at him a little helplessly, her face pale, her gaze colliding with his. He leaned down to listen. She didn't try to pull away from him or stop him. The voice on the other end was filled with menacing hatred, even through the obvious device the person was using to distort their voice. It was impossible to tell if it was a man or a woman. The voice sounded computer-generated.

  "You think your sister was fucked up? Back the hell off, or you're going to be cut into so many little pieces no one will ever be able to identify you."

  The call ended as abruptly as it had begun. Even as Ilya listened, his eyes slashed around the parking lot, noting where each member of the crew or band was, and whether or not they were using a cell phone. He put the phone in his pocket. "I'll have Jerry get you another."

  "They mentioned my sister. Why did they do that? Why would they say anything about what happened to Hannah? That was the mob, Ilya. Ever since Abbey met Aleksandr, we've had nothing but problems with them." As soon as the words were spoken aloud, she clapped her hand over her mouth, her expression horrified. Tears swam in her eyes. "I didn't mean that. I don't know why I thought it, let alone said it. I didn't mean it."

  Say nothing, laskovaya moya, until we are out of the open.

  "Joley!" Brian called. "You want me to ride with you?"

  Joley nearly choked. She was suddenly very frightened. The Russian mob had wreaked havoc on her family, nearly killing Hannah. Twice now, they'd had encounters with them, and with Nikitin following her every move, she felt trapped. Brian had been acting so strange, she didn't trust anyone at all. Sea Haven, her hometown, was the only safe place, yet if the mob was after her, she didn't dare head home and endanger her family again.

  Wave to Brian. Tell him you're fine. He's feeling guilty for the way he acted and the things he said.

  Ordinarily Joley would have objected to the order and tone, but this time she let Ilya take over, waving halfheartedly at Brian and blowing him a kiss as Ilya moved her toward her bus. She could hear laughter and chatter as the band and crew boarded their buses. Ilya kept his body between her and everyone else as they neared her bus.

  Coming at you. Keep your head down.

  It was all the warning she had. Flashes went off as the paparazzi swarmed around her. Ilya didn't slow down, wading through them without speaking, his face set in grim lines, his arm over her head. She heard her name called countless times. Once she felt the impact as someone bumped into Ilya hard and his weight shifted slightly into her, but with his large muscle mass he was nearly as immovable as a rock.

  She moved with him naturally, as if they were dancing, her steps perfectly in tune to his. They could have rehearsed their walk to the bus. Ilya made it all matter-of-fact, without urgency, as if they were simply strolling through a crowd, instead of being mobbed.

  She felt safe. Joley took a breath and absorbed that knowledge. In the midst of the threat, the murder, and the crush of paparazzi, Ilya made her feel completely safe. He didn't push or shove or threaten anyone. They stood in front of him and he looked through them, and then walked through them. Something about the set of his shoulders, the expressionless look on his tough features and the cold look in his eyes made even the most hardened veterans of the tabloid press move out of his way.

  Ilya yanked open the door to her bus and thrust her in and to the side. "Stay there while I do a quick search."

  The door between her driver and the home section of the bus was already closed, which meant Steve was in a hurry to leave. The feeding frenzy of the paparazzi only made him cranky, so it didn't surprise her when the bus roared to life. Ilya moved swiftly through it, checking every conceivable hiding place, including ones she hadn't even thought of. When she would have spoken, he shook his head and walked through a second time with a small device in his hand.

  "We're clear," he said and stepped out of her way.

  Joley flung herself on the couch. "Thanks. They must have gotten wind of us stopping. Someone at the diner had to have called. They'll get their fifteen minutes of fame, telling lies about us. Or making something out of our conversations."

  "Who has your cell number?"

  She shrugged. "I have to change it all the time. Usually Jerry and the band and my family. A few friends. I always let Tish have my number, and I think I gave it to Lisa. I meant to change it recently because Logan gave it to that whack job groupie's mother."

  "That doesn't mean anything to me."

  She sighed. "Logan had this brief fling with a groupie named Lucy Brady. She was absolutely nuts, and I mean certifiable. She caused so many scenes in public. He slept with her a few times, and then dropped her when he realized how crazy she was. She went after him with a broken bottle, which by the way is her favorite weapon, it happened more than once. She turned u
p pregnant and threatened to kill herself. We tried to tell Logan to just stay away from her, but he felt responsible. She was in and out of institutions the whole time she was pregnant, and in the end, Logan went through an attorney and Lucy gave up the baby. She didn't want it, but she did carry it, although once she was going to cut it out of her stomach, again with a broken bottle. That was really ugly."

  "And she has your number?"

  She rolled her eyes. "You don't have to sound like that. Her mother had the number, not Lucy. I never had anything to do with Lucy. She was very fixated on Logan, until he told her he was married." She leaned her head back against the cushions. "Our lives sound like a high school soap opera. Sheesh."

  "What makes you want to live like this?" Ilya asked. "You have everything you could possibly want. And a family who loves and cares about you. What makes you want--or need--all of this?"

  Joley inhaled sharply. The contempt in his voice stung. "You don't know me, Ilya. You only think you do. I may get lost sometimes, and it can be a struggle to stay centered, but I know who I am. I love music. This is my life because it makes sense. And every now and then a letter gets through to me, or someone comes up to me after a show and tells me my songs matter to them. What about you, Ilya? You're so good at handing out judgment. Do you love what you do? Are you sure what you do is the right choice for you?"

  "I didn't have a choice. I do what I have to do to survive." He took the chair across from her and stretched out his legs. "Your voice changed my life."

  The admission was so unexpected, it stunned her into silence for a moment. She searched his expression. As always, he gave nothing away. There was little softness about Ilya. He was hard and capable and could be counted on if he was on your side. She didn't know how she knew that about him, but the feeling in her was strong.

  "How did my voice change your life?"

  Ilya could see the genuine surprise on her face. Joley was so transparent, every thought that crossed her mind was telegraphed on her mobile features. He had no softer, happier memories. Grim, dark experiences, hard physical and mental labor and unrelenting pain had shaped who and what he had become--until Joley. She had unexpectedly given him back his humanity. Somewhere inside all of that calm discipline and control, she had tapped into long forgotten emotion. She had made the sun shine and taught him laughter. Maybe it was rusty in sound, and came rarely, but he now knew what true happiness felt like.

  He cleared his throat, knowing he was going to give a piece of himself away. "I was in a very bad place, an ugly place, when I first heard your voice. You sounded like an angel, and I didn't believe in them. I didn't know joy in life until the first time I listened to a song by you. I knew duty and survival, but not joy or what it meant to really live. You gave that to me. I guess if you give that same thing to others, it's well worth the sacrifices you make, although to be honest, I don't like the danger it puts you in. I suppose that's selfish of me."

  Joley's eyes softened, were almost luminous. For a moment he imagined he saw love in them. He'd never seen, or maybe recognized, love or thought much about it until he had crossed paths with the Drake family. They had a great capacity for loving--especially Joley. She was a wild thing, impetuous and compulsive, but she knew how to love fiercely, passionately and protectively. He hadn't known he wanted that for himself until he'd first laid eyes on her.

  "I wish I could be as good a person as you make me out to be," Joley said. "I have a temper that I spend half my life having to rein in. I'm not at all like my sisters, Ilya. They really are good people. I just can't seem to be forgiving and I have a tendency to fly off the handle when people do stupid things." She looked away from him, ducking her head as if something about her character shamed her.

  His gut tightened in reaction. "Why are you so afraid of who you are, Joley? There's nothing wrong with you."

  Lights flashed as cars went by and the sounds of traffic filled the silence in the bus. She twisted her fingers together and shrugged her shoulders.

  "Maybe. Maybe not. You never really know what's inside of people."

  "That's not true of us. We see through different eyes and hear sounds no one else hears. We touch other people's minds and thoughts all to easily. You recognize evil when you see it. So do I. Most people think evil is just a word. We know it exists and that it does terrible, vicious things and spreads as it goes. We see one another, and I don't see anything in you that you should ever be ashamed of."

  "Maybe you don't see all of me. I know I don't see all of you. I can't pierce the shadows of your aura. I've caught glimpses, but you hide yourself very well--even from me, and I've touched your mind a thousand times."

  "But you know I'm not evil."

  She bit her bottom lip and shivered a little. Ilya immediately rose and dragged the comforter from the bed to wrap her in.

  "No, you're not evil," she admitted, almost reluctantly. "But I don't know what you are. You're not the sweet boy next door, that's for sure."

  "You don't want the sweet boy next door. If you did, you'd be with Rick."

  "Rick?" Her gaze jumped to his. "Why Rick? Brian's my best friend."

  "You're not attracted to Brian and he isn't attracted to you. But you have some chemistry with Rick." His blue eyes burned hot. "I don't like it, but it's there."

  "You're nuts. He's like a brother. All the band members are. I've never had sex with any of them, nor would I. It would be gross."

  He shrugged. "I believe you, but that doesn't negate the fact that you find Rick attractive. In any case," he added before she could protest, "he can't meet your needs."

  "My needs?" She stumbled over the last word. Her chin went up a little, and there was defiance in her tone as well as her expression. "And you think you know what I need?"

  He leaned toward her. "I know exactly what you need. Why do you think you fight me so hard?"

  Joley scowled at him. "You have an archaic view of relationships, Ilya. You think the man should dominate the woman, and that's so last century."

  "How do you know what I think? You've never bothered to ask me."

  That shut her up. She sat back and studied his face. "Well then, what do you think makes a good relationship?"

  "Two people who complete one another. They should each complement the strengths and weaknesses of the other person. And they should meet one another's needs, spiritually, sexually and intellectually. I can do all those things for you. I can also protect the life you want to have. If you keep going as you're doing, you'll burn out in another couple of years. You're already starting to do that. I can provide the buffer you need between you and everyone else in order to allow you to continue with your career."

  Okay, that sounded like heaven, too good to be true, but Joley knew life wasn't like that, so perfect and uncomplicated. "Why do you have to say all the right things, Ilya? You and I both know it wouldn't be that easy."

  "It would if you let it, Joley." His voice turned tender. "You're exhausted and upset. Lie down and I'll get you to sleep."

  "I never sleep."

  "Unless I'm with you." He held out his hand to her. "You slept just fine the last time I was here. That's another item for the pro side of that list you were making."

  Joley took his hand and let him tug her to her feet. "You got me in trouble with Sarah. That earned a lot of negative points you'll have to make up."

  He settled her on the bed and brushed a kiss across her temple. "Fortunately I have a lot of other skills to make those points up fast."

  Joley looked alarmed--and intrigued. "Really? Well save them for another time. I'm wiped out."

  "I know, lyubimaya moya, go to sleep and I'll watch over you." He stretched out beside her. "And this should go on the pro side of your list as well," he muttered under his breath.

  Joley curled close to him and smiling, closed her eyes.

  Chapter 10

  LYING beside any attractive woman for three hours could give a man a raging hard-on, but watching Joley sleep, with
her lush, curvaceous body and her soft skin, had created a monster.

  In those hours she barely moved, her face young and relaxed, the fingers of her hand curled against her palm as if protecting Ilya's mark. Dawn crept in through the blinds, spilling light across her face. She looked like an angel, with her silky hair in disarray on the pillow and her long lashes curving in two thick crescents on her cheeks. And then she moved restlessly, turning toward him, whispering his name, and he lost all pretense of control.

  There was nothing saintly about him, and there never would be. There was no way he could lie beside her and not need to touch her soft skin or taste her wild, honeyed flavor. He had known, when the doors of the bus had closed, that he was going to seduce her. She wanted him. The truth was in her eyes when she looked at him, in the feminine fragrance of her body and the seductive sound of her voice. She was fighting her attraction because she didn't trust him, she didn't fully believe he wasn't the bad man he was reputed to be--but she wanted him with every cell in her body, in just the same way he wanted her.

  His reaction to her, the first time he'd actually laid eyes on her, had been so physical, so sharp and strong, the ache in his body becoming a permanent part of him in her presence. He'd tried to convince himself he could have her and not be emotionally touched by her. She'd dashed that ridiculous hope completely.

  Joley was a strong woman with strong moral convictions. The chemistry between them flared bright and hot, but he was a man in the shadows--and he had to remain there. It would take finesse to overcome Joley's convictions, and there would be repercussions, but damn, he'd waited as long as he could wait.

  He needed to touch her silken skin, stroke his hands over her lush, curvy body, sink into the fiery heat of her and bury himself deep and hard, over and over, until she could never think of another man--look at another man--feel the least chemistry with another man, as she did with Rick Henderson, her bass player. She might not acknowledge that she did, but he felt a spark each time the two were together, and that was unacceptable to him. Her emotional dependence on Brian felt like a threat as well. Ilya wasn't into sharing any part of Joley.