Staged

by Olivia Cunning

  “That would be great,” Zach said, moving forward to stand beside her. He jabbed a thumb in Steve’s direction. “This guy forgets to feed me when he makes me chase girls all day.”

  “Girls?” Roux chanced a quick glance at Steve. “Plural?”

  “Don’t worry,” Zach said. “He only flew to Seattle to see that other woman so he could clear his plate enough to focus fully on you.”

  “Seattle?” Roux squeaked.

  “I am going to murder you,” Steve said, shoving Zach’s shoulder.

  Zach grinned, his pale blue eyes twinkling with merriment. “So, what kind of refreshments are we talking about here?” Zach asked, which prompted Roux into motion.

  “Let’s go see what we can find,” she said, trying and failing not to fixate on the woman in Seattle that Zach was talking about and wondering why mentioning her would justify his murder.

  “There are leftovers from yesterday,” Mama said, zipping around the three of them like a road-raging driver. “Do you boys like chicken Alfredo, or are you vegetarians like my Roux?”

  Zach chuckled, though Roux wasn’t sure if it was because Mama had called them boys and they were both in their early thirties, or if he found going without meat humorous.

  “I haven’t had a home-cooked meal in months,” Zach said, quickening his pace to fall into step with Mama, which left the spot beside Roux for Steve to claim.

  “Mama, I can take care of this,” Roux said. “Why don’t you go up to bed? You must be exhausted.”

  Mama paused in the kitchen doorway and turned to give Roux a look that said, as if I’d leave you alone with two men. Mama tended to forget Roux was a grown-ass woman who could take care of herself and had been alone in the company of men countless times, but Roux wouldn’t argue. Not when she was under Mama’s roof. It was an argument she would never win.

  “I’d love some chicken Alfredo, Mrs. Rivera.”

  Roux scowled. How did Steve know Mama’s last name? She’d never mentioned it to him.

  Steve smiled the kind of smile that would make most women swoon. “And the delight of your company.”

  “Charming me will not clear the route to my daughter,” Mama said brusquely before turning to enter the kitchen.

  “Ah, I love her so flipping much,” Zach said, slapping Steve on the arm before trailing Mama.

  Roux started to follow, but Steve caught her arm. “So what’s blocking my route to you? I want to know exactly what I’m up against. A string of broken hearts? Virginity gifted only in marriage?”

  Roux snorted. “I’m no virgin.” She flicked her gaze up to meet his. “Disappointed?”

  “I’m no virgin either.”

  “Aw, now I’m the one who’s disappointed.” She winked at him, glad he wasn’t a hypocrite. Worldly men who expected their women to be virgins? Yeah, no.

  “Is it my partying or my love of meat or because I insulted you or—”

  “Is what your partying or your disgusting diet or your big mouth?”

  “The reason you didn’t call me.”

  “I did call you,” she reminded him.

  “Why you didn’t call immediately.”

  “I already explained it to you. I can’t see you while we’re on tour together.”

  “That’s really the only reason?”

  “The only one,” she assured him.

  “So after the tour is over?”

  “We can be more than friends. If that’s what you want.”

  A little breath—sounding like relief—escaped him. “That’s definitely what I want. I thought I was going to have to try to change for you, but all I have to do is wait a few months?”

  She nodded, sure they’d be the longest few months of her life, and hoped some other woman didn’t turn his head in the interim. “I don’t want you to change for me or anyone.”

  “But you are asking me to change,” he said. “You’re asking me to be patient, to delay gratification. When I see something I want, Roux, I don’t wait. I go after it. And I want you.”

  His fingers slid across her cheek and into her hair. Her heart, which was already pounding from his nearness, kicked into a faster gear as he leaned in and kissed her tenderly. The heat between them surged, and her lips parted as a soft moan escaped her. He deepened the kiss, drew her closer, engaged her senses until there was only him. The sound of his breath, the taste of his mouth, the texture of his shirt, and the hardness of his back muscles beneath her fingertips—the scent of his body, the dizziness with which he unbalanced her—all made him real to her yet at the same time strengthened her fantasies, her ideal of him, because everything about this moment was all she’d dreamed of since she’d watched him walk out of that satellite radio studio in New York.

  “Roux, would you like me to fix something for you?” Mama called from the kitchen.

  Mama might as well have dumped a cold bucket of water over her head. Roux pulled away from Steve and called back in a surprisingly steady voice, “No, thanks. I’ll just have a cup of tea.”

  “I’ll put the kettle on.”

  Steve’s gorgeous mouth quirked. “Should have known you’d be a tea drinker.”

  “And what’s wrong with being a tea drinker?”

  “Not a single thing.”

  She pressed her body closer to his, reminded again of how different they were in every capacity, yet realizing that those differences were what pulled her toward him. Turning her face into his neck, she allowed her lips to gently caress the pulse point in his throat. He shuddered, arms wrapping around her back to pull her closer.

  “If you’re trying to help me control myself,” he growled close to her ear, “you’re failing spectacularly.”

  “Not sorry,” she whispered, rubbing her lips against his skin. She wanted to experience every inch of him with her mouth, her hands, her naked body. She’d never wanted a man this much before. It was a little frightening to realize how close she was to spinning out of control, and at the same time, the thought of letting go excited her to a new level.

  She already knew that “let’s just be friends” conversation was never going to happen. But they did need to have a different conversation.

  “How did you know Mama’s last name was Rivera?”

  Steve cringed. “If I tell you, you’ll think I’m a stalker.”

  She chuckled. “I already think that.” But she wasn’t afraid of him. Not even a little.

  “I tried looking you up, but there’s no mention of Roux Williams anywhere except as a band member of Baroquen.”

  Because Roux wasn’t her legal name.

  “So how did you manage to track me down?” There was an oversight somewhere that would have to be remedied. She wasn’t afraid for herself—she had no living enemies—but she was concerned for Azura. No one could know who her younger sister really was.

  “Lily’s marriage certificate.”

  The connection still wasn’t there. “Uh . . .”

  “Lily’s maiden name is on the license and on your lease.”

  They’d thought they’d done enough to hide their identities. Apparently not. But who besides Steve would know there was a connection between Jack Tanner and Azura? The link was several times removed. Roux’s sister-danger sensors settled. Azura wouldn’t be compromised by the association. Not possible.

  “That still doesn’t explain how you managed to show up here,” she said.

  “I found an article about Mama Ramona’s altruism in an old newspaper well before I figured out where you lived in New York. I didn’t want to bother your mother or scare her, so I was saving that connection as a last resort.”

  “She would never have told you how to find me, you know.”

  “Yeah, I know. The more I talk about this, the more I realize how out of line I was. I’m sorry. I was out of my head wanting to see you again, but I’d never do anything to harm you or your family. I hope you can forgive me.”

  Forgive him for wanting her desperately? For making her feel l
ike the most important person in the world?

  She slid a hand along his jaw. “You’re forgiven.” She leaned in to kiss him again.

  Several sets of footsteps clambered down the stairs, and Roux straightened, her gaze lifting to meet Steve’s. “I guess you can tell that there’s no such thing as privacy in this house.”

  Steve chuckled, his palms skimming down her bare upper arms, which sent a shiver down her spine. “As a man who spends several months a year on a tour bus, I’m used to that.”

  His reminder of the tour gave her the strength to step away and enter the kitchen.

  Behind her, Iona said, “Well, look who it is. Did you come to give us advice about the upcoming tour, Steve?”

  Roux cringed. She was never going to hear the end of this from Iona.

  “Nope. I’m on vacation.” He entered the kitchen and caught Roux’s hand. And when that simple touch made her gasp, he smiled. “Are you coming with me?”

  “Where?”

  “On vacation.”

  She wanted to jump at the invitation, but Baroquen still had a lot of rehearsing to do. Then again, Lily was going to be away for a few more days, so why shouldn’t she enjoy the same freedom?

  “I can be gone until Monday,” she blurted. Wait, what was she saying? Even though she technically could be gone that long, she didn’t typically go on extended weekend trips with men she scarcely knew. Strangely, however, she felt like she’d known Steve her entire life, even though she didn’t truly know much about him at all. She wondered if that instant connection was due to his fame and notoriety, or if there was some cosmic link between them.

  “I’d say we should leave at once, but my overworked pilot would probably like some sleep. Can you be ready to go in the morning?”

  Yes popped out of her mouth before she could muster up a shred of restraint. “Where are we going?”

  “I should go home to LA,” he said, “but that can wait until Monday. Where would you like to go?”

  “Surprise me,” she said.

  His gorgeous mouth twisted into a crooked smile. “I know just the place.”

  Twelve

  Steve grinned at the excitement on Roux’s face as she watched out the jet’s window. His stomach sank in protest as the wheels lifted off the ground and they went airborne. She probably thought he was taking her to some exotic, private island where they could frolic naked in the surf without a care, but they weren’t going there until tomorrow. Today their destination was far more important to him, and he was certain she’d recognize that. He wanted this woman’s heart, and after seeing her around the diverse group of girls and young women that she considered sisters—and the remarkable woman who’d taken them into her home and heart—he was pretty sure he knew how to win Roux’s affection. Once the spiritual connection between them cemented, then he’d do something about the physical aspects of their attraction, assuming she’d allow the level of intimacy he craved. She provided him with a challenge he hadn’t had to deal with in a long while, and he found her unusual mix of passion and restraint irresistible.

  She turned her head to smile at him. “Won’t you at least give me a little hint?”

  “You said I should surprise you,” he said, unable to stop himself from taking her hand, which was resting on the leather-covered armrest between them.

  She turned away from the window and leaned her upper arm against his. “Now that I have you alone, tell me all about yourself.”

  All about himself? He didn’t want to scare her off. Not when he’d finally made some progress, but he did want someone who could love him despite his flaws, maybe even because of them. Was she someone capable of that degree of devotion? He licked his lips and lowered his gaze to the cream-colored leather on the back of the seat in front of him.

  “What do you want to know?” he asked.

  “What’s your favorite color?”

  Oh. So this was about trivialities. Not the important stuff. He could handle that. He turned to her and wrapped a lock of her hair around one finger. “Red.” He lifted his finger to his mouth and kissed the coppery strands of her hair. When his gaze met her gold-rimmed green eyes, he reconsidered, his hand moving to cup her face. “And green. And gold.”

  “Do you have indecisive tendencies?”

  “You’re my favorite color.”

  Her cheek warmed beneath his fingertips. “I can’t decide if you say such things because you’re romantic or you know exactly how to make a girl lose her head.”

  An amused huff escaped him. “What if it’s a little of both?”

  She licked her lips and rubbed her teeth over the full bottom curve of her mouth, a sure sign that she was thinking about being kissed. He’d keep her waiting a while, the way she’d kept him waiting all last week. “What’s your favorite color?”

  “It’s always been red, but now I think maybe it’s you.”

  She laughed, the sound delighting him deep into his soul.

  “It sounded sexy when you said it, but ridiculous coming out of my mouth.”

  He shook his head. “Everything about your mouth is sexy.” His thumb brushed her lower lip, and she shuddered, her eyelashes lowering to veil her gorgeous eyes. A surge of lust flooded his groin, and he decided if he was going to get through this entire flight with his dick in his pants, he’d have to stop touching her.

  “We’ve reached cruising altitude,” Jordan announced over the intercom. “Feel free to move about the cabin.”

  Steve unfastened his seat belt, and though every instinct told him to pounce on the bewildered-looking woman beside him, he stood and went to the small minibar near the closed cockpit.

  “Would you like something to drink? A snack?”

  Steve wasn’t sure he’d ever be hungry again after that enormous breakfast Mama Ramona had insisted they eat before they left that morning. Zach had still been stuffing his face when Steve and Roux said their goodbyes and left him to his own devices among the dozen or so females at the table.

  Steve opened the cabinet and flinched at the variety of alcoholic beverages inside. The fridge wasn’t much better, but he was glad to find mixers like orange juice and club soda.

  “We have water. Juice. Soda.”

  He started when a hand settled on the small of his back. He hadn’t heard her leave her seat.

  “You know what I want,” she said.

  She was not making this easy on him.

  He swallowed against the sudden dryness of his mouth, wondering what in the hell he had to be nervous about. He knew his way around the female anatomy. It was the heart he had trouble with. “Water?”

  “You,” she said, her hand sliding down his belly.

  “We might get around to that later.” Her sexually aggressive behavior reminded him of most of the women in his life, and he wasn’t sure if he liked it. When her hand brushed against the inside of his hipbone and his dick leapt to full attention, there was no mistaking that his body liked it, but his baser impulses never had his overall best interests in mind.

  “Later? Are you really not interested in initiating me into the Mile High Club?”

  He took her questing hand and shifted it to the hard ridge struggling to burst free of his fly. He groaned as lust swirled through him, shredding his limited control. He sucked in a breath, trying desperately to collect the tattered remains of control. “Does that answer your question?”

  “Then what is it?” she asked. “Are you mad at me for not calling you sooner?”

  “Yes,” he admitted, then he shook his head. “And no. Your self-restraint is a complete turn-on.”

  Her sensual lips turned up at one corner. “That’s funny. Your complete lack of restraint does the same for me.”

  The shreds of his self-control slipped entirely from his grasp. His hands rubbed over the gentle curve of her ass, drawing her hip against his aching groin. She pressed her soft breasts against his chest, lips parting as she strained her mouth toward his. Heat radiated from her center, and he sh
ifted his thigh between her legs, seeking the fire building within her. He’d probably get burned, but damned if he lacked the control to turn away from it. Before he completely gave in to the mindless desire consuming him, he clutched handfuls of her hair. Her eyes fluttered open, the green-gold gaze smoldering and inquisitive in the same instant. A shudder raced through him.

  “If we do this, everything will change between us,” he said. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

  “Don’t try to convince me that you haven’t ever had a frivolous weekend fling before, Steven Aimes.”

  Was that what this was to her? A frivolous weekend fling?

  “I want more than that.” He bit his lip. He hadn’t meant to admit that to her. Such an omission made him vulnerable. He hated feeling vulnerable.

  She touched his face, a gentle smile on her lips. “We can’t be together during the tour,” she said.

  This again. “Your rule, not mine.”

  Her head inclined slightly. “Yes, my rule. But this weekend I have no rules, so you can think of this as a trial run. We can both figure out if this heat between us is worth pursuing after the tour is over. I thought I could wait.” Her hand slid down his belly and unfastened the top button of his fly. “But since I last saw you, every minute of every day is invaded by thoughts of you, and I don’t think I can function in that condition without at least knowing the constant distraction is worth it.”

  “And you’re betting that it’s not,” he said, releasing the tangle of her hair, taking her hand and shifting it back to his cock.

  “That’s not a wager I’m willing to place without more evidence.”

  Steve groaned as her hand stroked him through his jeans. Why was he even trying to fight this?

  He knew why. He still wanted more from her than a frivolous weekend of sex, but they could start with that and build from there. All he had to do was make sure her thoughts never cleared of him. Shouldn’t be all that hard to accomplish, even on tour. Especially on tour. He felt like he ruled the world while he was on tour. There was no way she’d be able to resist him when he was in that frame of mind.