“Don’t thank me. It’s my fault she came after you.” Ian took a deep breath. Less than ten minutes into the party and things were going downhill fast. “What did she say to you?”
“Eh.” She shrugged. “The usual jealous woman stuff. Who am I? What am I doing coming to this party with you? Do I know who she is? Nothing very original. You interrupted before I could say something ugly to her.”
Ian was glad he got there in time. Missy had a short fuse and no shame. He didn’t want her ruining this night for Bree. He could already tell the party was going to be a lot of fun with her by his side. He usually spent most of his time conducting business and checking his phone. Tonight, he didn’t have the urge to do either. He wanted to take Bree for a turn on the dance floor and introduce her to everyone. He wanted to feed her a chocolate-covered strawberry from the dessert table and snuggle with her by the fire pit.
“I’m sorry about Missy, Bree. I promised you a fun night, and after that scene, you’re never going to want to come with me to another one of these things.”
“Missy hasn’t scared me off yet. And actually,” Bree said with a smile, “all you promised me was a chance to meet Jack Wheeler.”
He had said that, hadn’t he? “You’re right.” He looked up, scanning the crowd, and found Jack sitting nearby with a group of other musicians she would probably be equally excited to meet. “Come with me,” he said, taking her hand. “I’m going to do my part and introduce you to Jack.”
“And then what?” she asked.
“And then I’m taking you home and slowly peeling you out of that dress.”
* * *
Ian kept his word. They spent another hour or so at the party, chatting with enough stars to make Bree’s head spin. And then they made a quick exit.
She expected Ian to take her back to her town house, but instead, he drove back into the city and the center of the music district. “Where are we going?”
“To my place.”
They eventually pulled into the parking garage of a tall residential building. Ian pulled into his reserved space and escorted her to the elevator that took them up to his penthouse.
“Now it’s my turn to say ‘wow,’” she said as they stepped into the marble foyer. There was a stone compass star on the floor of the round entry and a sparkling chandelier overhead. “This is amazing.”
Ian led her into the modern kitchen with black cabinets and gray, concrete countertops. “Thanks. I’ll give your regards to my decorator. She fretted over it and almost no one ever sees it but Winnie and me. Hell, I barely see it.”
Bree approached the kitchen, running her fingertips along the counter. “Is Winnie here?”
Ian shook his head. “She’s not a live-in employee, although she has a room in case she needs to stay over. She’ll be back in the morning, so no stumbling into the kitchen naked for a cup of coffee.”
“Hmm...” Bree said thoughtfully. “You think you’re going to keep me here all night, do you?”
“Yep,” he said, reaching into the wine chiller to pull out a bottle. “I’m certain of it. Because I’m not driving you home until I leave for work in the morning.” He poured two glasses of chardonnay and handed one to her.
“In that case, I’m losing the heels.” Bree kicked out of the stilettos, sighing with bliss to be flat on the ground once again. The shoes were hot, no doubt, but she really just preferred her Converse. She even had red ones that would’ve matched the dress, but she didn’t need Amelia freaking out over her major fashion faux pas.
“That’s better for the tour, anyway.” Ian started through the house, pointing out details as they walked. He had the entire top floor to himself, with an unnecessary number of bedrooms and bathrooms in addition to an office, a gym and a movie theater.
“Ian, why such a big penthouse? You could have someone secretly living here and you wouldn’t ever know it.”
Ian shrugged. “I didn’t want a house. I wanted to be in the city, close to the studio. I liked the features. And I guess I figured that someday I might need the other rooms for a wife and family.”
“Or Missy and all her assistants?”
Ian looked at her with a pinched, irritated expression that quickly faded to a smile. “Or that. Dodged a bullet there.” At the end of a corridor, Ian opened a door and let her step in ahead of him. “This is the master suite,” he said, slipping out of his suit coat and tossing it across the back of a chair.
It was another beautiful space. After being at his rustic cabin for several days, it was interesting to see how modern his apartment was. Glass, chrome, polished stone and leather. The stark-white king-size bed was on a raised black marble platform. It had a tall white suede headboard and another chandelier hanging over the bed. There was a sitting room with a television and a fireplace, and beyond that, she could make out the master bath. It was larger than her living room and she had what she thought was a pretty spacious town house.
Bree stepped onto the raised platform and sat on the edge of the bed to sip her wine. “Pretty impressive,” she said. “A far cry from your dorm room and that lumpy twin bed.”
“Thank goodness.” Ian sat beside her as she sipped the last of her wine and placed the empty glass on the platform by her feet. Together, they looked out through the wall of windows to the skyline of downtown Nashville. The glowing twin spires of the Batman Building and the bright red L&C sign on the top of the Life and Causality Building made for quite a view.
She was lost in the twinkling lights of downtown when she felt Ian’s hand at her neck. He found the snap and the zipper and ran it down the long curve of her back. She closed her eyes, relishing the feel as his fingertips followed the same trail, caressing her skin down to the hollow at the base of her spine. She shivered, his touch sending a wave of goose bumps across her arms and legs. Those same goose bumps immediately vanished when Ian pushed her sleeves off her shoulders and placed a searing kiss on her bare skin.
Ian kept pushing until the dress was peeled down to her waist, exposing her breasts. She slipped her arms out of the sleeves and arched her back to lean against his chest. His hands immediately moved over her breasts. She gasped as his fingertips teased the hard pebbles of her nipples.
“You look amazing tonight,” he whispered, letting the tip of his tongue graze her earlobe. “I’ve never wanted a woman as much as I want you right now.”
“Oh, yeah?” she purred, letting her hand slip in between his thighs to confirm it.
Ian groaned loudly, his hand moving quickly to her wrist to tug her away. “Not yet.” He stood up, looking down on her as she sat on the edge of the bed. He placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed until she was lying back on the bed. His hands quickly went to her hips, gripping the bunched fabric there to tug it down her legs.
He stood back up, looking at her completely nude body with a blazing heat of desire in his eyes. Slowly, he pulled off his tie and unbuttoned his dress shirt.
Bree slid back on the bed until she reached the pillows. “Don’t make me wait any longer,” she said. She was immediately joined by a naked and sheathed Ian, his body covering every inch of hers. She didn’t hesitate to part her thighs and allow him to slip between them. He surged forward until he was buried deep inside her.
She closed her eyes and savored the feeling. Not just the distinctly feminine experience of sex, but the intimacy it built between them. It was something she had lacked with other partners but never with Ian. And especially not now. She had never felt closer to a man in her life than she felt to Ian at this moment.
They moved together like they were one. He tasted her mouth, her breasts, her throat, drawing soft cries from her lips. She clung to him, tensing her muscles around him as she felt her release build up inside her.
“Ian!” she gasped.
“Let go,” he whispered against t
he soft line of her jaw. “Just let go.”
Bree felt herself giving in. Not just to his request to let go, but to the thoughts that were racing through her own head. She’d resisted. She had good reason to. But in the moment, she didn’t want to hold back anymore.
Bree wanted her relationship with Ian to last beyond tonight, beyond her gallery showing this weekend. She wanted to give this a real try, and Ian’s actions had encouraged her to think it was a possibility. He really seemed to enjoy the time he spent with her away from work. She’d spied the guitar in his bedroom when she walked in, so perhaps he was getting some pleasure from embracing his music again. He seemed happier. His smile was enough to make her heart ache and her chest tighten.
She could really lose her heart to Ian. Just a little life balance for them both could make all the difference in the success of their second chance.
And she wanted this to be their second chance. Not just a fun fling. It meant too much to her for that. And if she was honest with herself, she had already lost the fight. Bree loved Ian and she had since she was eighteen years old. Seeing him again had brought everything back to the surface and she was tired of fighting her feelings.
As Bree unraveled the protective wrappings around her heart, she felt her body start to unravel also. The swell of emotion and pleasure built up inside of her so quickly, she could barely react before it was upon her.
“Yes, Ian,” she whispered, clinging to his shoulders as the spasms of her release rocked through her body. “Love me!” she cried again and again until it was over. A moment later, Ian found his own release, shouting her name into the delicate crystal fixture overhead.
He was too wrapped up to understand her pleas. Love me, she’d begged, but it had nothing to do with his physical touch and everything to do with his heart.
Love me.
* * *
Ian woke early the next morning, as usual. Any other morning, he would reach for his phone to check the time, read over his email and then hit the ground running. His routine rarely varied—shower, coffee then out the door by seven and in the office by seven-thirty.
But not today.
Today, when he opened his eyes, he wasn’t propelled out of bed by the cold sheets beside him and the peek of sunlight through the windows. All he could see was golden-blond hair. Bree was curled against him, comfortable and warm. Her soft, rhythmic breathing was soothing, tempting him to fall back asleep with her in his arms. And he wanted to. He had zero interest in getting up and starting his day. He wanted to stay right where he was for as long as possible.
Propped up on his elbow, he watched her sleep for a few moments. She had the same serene expression he’d tried to catch with her camera in the mountains. The soft, pouted lips...the rose-tinted cheeks...the dark blond lashes against her peach skin... Ian wanted to memorialize the moment so he could have it with him always.
Of course, there was another way.
Ian’s chest constricted when he thought about it. Having Bree here, waking up with him every morning, was exactly what he wanted. That was better than a picture any day. He wanted her right here when he woke up and in his arms when he fell asleep. Knowing she would be at his apartment each evening was a powerful driver for him to go home when the normal workday was at an end. He desperately needed balance in his life, but for years, he’d had no reason to go home.
She might drive him mad at times, but no one else challenged him like Bree did. No one understood him, cared for him and maybe even loved him the way Bree did. She had touched him in a way no other woman had before. They may have spent far longer apart than they’d spent together, but he wanted to change that.
He was overwhelmed with the sudden urge to shake her shoulder and wake her up. When her blue eyes opened and looked up at him, he knew exactly what he wanted to say. It might be crazy, but he wanted to tell her that he loved her and ask her to marry him. It wasn’t very romantic. He didn’t have a ring or flowers or, hell, pants on, but the words were on the tip of his tongue, begging to leap out of his mouth.
When he’d proposed to Missy, there had been an ache of worry in his gut. He hadn’t wanted to do it. Every nerve in his brain was screaming for him not to do it. But now, there was only excitement. He was at peace with his decision. All he had to do was wake her up and say the words.
Bree made a soft cooing sound in his arms and rolled onto her back. A moment later, her eyes fluttered open and slowly came to focus on his face. Her nose wrinkled in sleepy confusion. “Hi,” she said. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing is the matter.” His heart started racing in his chest as the adrenalin surged through his veins. “I just wanted to ask you a question.”
Bree rubbed her fists into her eyes and yawned. “What?”
“Bree, I...” he began, and then, in that moment, he lost his nerve. Ian hadn’t changed his mind, but he knew Bree deserved better. Thirty years from now when she told this story to their grandchildren, he didn’t want it to be embarrassing. He didn’t want Bree to have to leave out the details about how they were naked in bed and she was half-asleep. He needed to do this right. The ring, the flowers, the perfect moment...
Her show.
That would be perfect. She’d worked so hard on it. What better way to wrap up her big night than to propose in the middle of the gallery?
“Ian?” Bree roused him from his plans with a delicate hand to his cheek. “You what?”
He smiled, picking up her hand and placing a soft kiss against the palm. “I want pancakes for breakfast.”
She chuckled and shook her head. “Pancakes, huh? You made it sound like you were about to propose marriage or something. So serious looking. Well, how about you and I climb into that gigantic shower of yours and, afterward, I will make you pancakes.”
“Sounds great,” Ian agreed. And it did. If he could start every day like this for the rest of his life, things would be just about perfect.
Ten
He was late. This was not how he needed to start off tonight.
Ian shut down his laptop and slipped his phone into the holster at his hip. He was putting his suit coat on when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye.
Missy.
She was standing in the doorway looking like she’d walked right out of a music video. She had on leather pants, a red-and-black corset top and five-inch heels. Her makeup and platinum-blond hair were camera-ready. It was a little much for a Monday night, but Missy lived by a policy of go big or go home.
Even then, with her fake breasts nearly spilling over the top of her corset and her pouty moist lips, Ian had a hard time imagining he’d ever slept with Missy, much less nearly married her. After spending time with Bree, a more natural beauty, Missy looked overdone. Forced. She was trying too hard.
He wasn’t sure why she’d gone to so much trouble. Judging by the strained, angry expression on her face, she wasn’t here to win him back. Ian knew this moment was coming, eventually, but why did it have to come right now?
Ian silently cursed and rounded his desk. He did not have time for this. He was already late for Bree’s gallery show. He couldn’t miss it. Not only was it superimportant to her, but he knew it meant more than that. Bree was waiting, just waiting, for the other shoe to drop. For him to blow off something for work. She had been holding her breath since they had gotten back together. He couldn’t screw this up.
“Ian,” Missy said, strolling leisurely into his office. “Now that you’re home, we need to talk.”
Ian sat on the edge of his desk, his arms crossed over his chest. “There’s nothing to talk about, Missy. I told you on the phone it was over.”
Missy laughed, a low sultry sound that was a trademark of her albums. It was extremely unnerving to Ian.
“Ian, do you really think I’m here to win you back?”
&nb
sp; He swallowed. “I really don’t know why you’re here, Missy.”
“Well, you can stop worrying your little head about that. I’m not about to get on my knees and beg you to love me. Our relationship was nothing more than a fantasy I concocted to sell records. And it worked.”
She was right. Even despite the scandal, her sales numbers had climbed to near historic highs for her at SpinTrax. Ian would never understand the public. He didn’t know if her fans just didn’t care about the way Missy lived her life or if the train wreck was part of the appeal. A part of him had hoped she’d just check into rehab and fall off the radar for a while, but no such luck. She was soaking up the publicity, both good and bad.
“What’s your point, Missy?”
“My point is that I am still a valuable commodity. I’m not going to let you cast me aside, Ian.”
He frowned at her. He should’ve known this was about business. It always was with her. “If you’re so valuable, why don’t you go to another label? Certainly there’s someone else out there willing to put up with your antics for the money. Or—” he hesitated “—are you not worth the aggravation? Will no one else take you on, Missy?”
He could tell that he was right by the way her eyes narrowed angrily at him. She’d probably spent the past week with her manager trying to hunt down a new deal. If she’d been successful, she wouldn’t be here right now.
Missy’s face tightened, an unattractive red mottling her airbrushed face. Her bloodred fingernails were digging into her palms. He wouldn’t be surprised if she scratched him with those claws. He slipped his phone out and set it beside him on the desk. If he needed to dial security quickly, he could.
“You’re going to re-sign me, Ian.”
At that, he had to laugh. It wasn’t the smartest move, considering how close Missy was to the edge, but he couldn’t help it. She couldn’t make him do anything, and the last thing on Earth he was going to do was sign Missy to his label again.
Snowed In with Her Ex Page 12
