Rock My Christmas (FlameSmith in Love Book 1)

by Kitchell, Laura

  She swallowed hard but managed to nod.

  “The pilot’s changing altitude. He’s going to get us out of this.”

  The airliner shook so hard she felt it to her bones. “It’s not working. Oh, God.”

  “Come here.” He gave her hand a tug.

  “I can’t.”

  “Remove your restraint. I’ve got you. Trust me.” He loosened his belt enough to turn.

  As he slid a leg along the seat creases, she realized he didn’t wear shoes. He shifted her pillow behind him then held an arm wide in invitation, and she’d never wanted to be in a man’s comforting arms more.

  Kendel shed her buckle and shot into his embrace as the plane trembled. Clamping her arms around his hard body, she rested her head on his chest and held on for her life. “Are you sure we’re going to be okay?”

  The engines screamed. The airliner crackled amidst another teeth-jarring shudder. Somehow, in his arms, it frightened her less. He tightened his embrace and rested his chin atop her head.

  She sighed. “It’s not fair.”

  In a quiet, sleepy voice, he asked, “What’s not fair?”

  “You’re allowed to tell me to trust you, but I’m not allowed to tell you to trust me.”

  “Mmm. Sorry about the shower thing. Disaster.”

  She smiled. “Thanks for apologizing.”

  “It’s only right.”

  “I like listening to you speak. What is it about a British accent that’s so appealing?”

  “I can’t say I agree. Personally, I prefer listening to a Frenchman speak English. They can even make German sound good.”

  She smiled bigger. “I wish we could be like this all the time.”

  “I’m a pathetic mess, I’m afraid.”

  “I didn’t ask to work for an egocentric misogynist.”

  “Well, bad luck.”

  She laughed.

  “I haven’t always been so buggered. I’d always been a nerdy bloke. Women are a mystery. For me, you see, FlameSmith’s to do with the music. Falling in love was a dreadful error. And I’m such a wanker, I went and did it twice. I deserved what I got.”

  “That’s a cynical view.”

  “Perhaps, but it’s my truth. Marty said you’re a graduate student.”

  The engines evened in tone and the plane stilled. She made to pull away, but he held her close.

  “Don’t go. I’m more relaxed than I’d hoped. Let’s stay this way for a while longer.”

  The seatbelt signs blinked out, the lights dimmed, and she closed her eyes. Relaxing completely against his firm strength, she said, “I graduated. I’m finished with school.”

  “What is poking me in the back?” he asked, shifting slightly and pulling her passport from her jacket pocket behind him. He opened it and studied her information.

  “I’ll take that, thank you,” she said, plucking it from his hand and tucking it into her back pocket.

  Spreading her blanket over her, he said, “She said you went to a good school.”

  “Mm-hmm. Notre Dame. I’ll be able to take my degree and get a position about anywhere I want. It’s not Yale or Harvard, but it’s one of the best.”

  “I’ve heard of it. What’s your degree?”

  “I earned an MBA.”

  “Indeed? Well done you. If you’re so brilliant, why are you working for me?”

  “Long story.”

  “Perfect. It’s a long plane ride.”

  She considered brushing it aside and changing the subject, but she enjoyed this rare openness he shared. If she wanted him to answer her questions truthfully, she had to answer his in a forthright manner.

  “I’d like to say it’s my dad’s fault, but I have to own that the flaw is mine. I’ve hungered for adventure and travel for a few years now. I tried to ignore it so I could finish school, but it’s time for me to scratch this itch so I can settle into a normal life.” She snuggled into his warmth.

  He sighed softly, a contented sound. “What’s a normal life?”

  “A day job with weekends and holidays off. A house in a quiet neighborhood. A husband. A couple kids. Maybe a dog. A home to raise a family where my children can feel secure.”

  “It sounds quite sensible and deadly dull. Why is this your ideal?”

  She winced. “Why do you want to know?”

  “Because I’m interested. Don’t ask me why, but you interest me.”

  Kendel let a long, slow breath buy her a moment to find words. “My father was a gypsy at heart. He never kept a job longer than a year, and we never lived in a place longer than three. I got so weary of saying goodbye to friends that, at some point, I just stopped making them. We never had enough money. Never had any place to call home. It’s not the life I wanted, and it’s not the life I want for my children.”

  “So you’re using me.” His voice rasped on a sleepy note rather than an angry one.

  “You make me sound sordid.”

  “You’re a woman aren’t you?”

  She let him go and pushed, but he refused to lighten his hold. “Why do you have to be so nasty?”

  He chuckled. “This isn’t nasty. You haven’t seen nasty from me, and I’m determined you won’t.”

  Tensing, she asked, “Are you flirting with me?”

  He barked a laugh.

  “Hey,” said Marty a few rows back. “Some of us are trying to sleep.”

  “If I flirted with you,” Burn said in a near whisper, “you’d know it without a doubt.”

  Reluctantly, she relaxed.

  “Tell me more about your family,” he said.

  She sighed, picturing her mother in kitchen after kitchen. “I thought my mom was a doormat until I got older and realized she loved my dad enough to put up with his nonsense. She was the only steady part of my life, especially when my father became a cargo driver and left for weeks at a time.”

  “She was a good parent?”

  “The best. I hoped I’d turn out like her. I still do. I just need to feed this travel bug I got from my dad, I guess. Then I can be free of this restlessness.” She closed her eyes. Even if Burn was an ass, he was a handsome ass who felt comfortable under her.

  “What if you can’t set your travel bug free? Or rather, what if it refuses to go?”

  “I can’t consider that.”

  His chin rested once more atop her head. “What if you’re a bit of both? In the small time you’ve worked for me, I can already see you take excellent care of me. Surely you inherit this from your mother. Would it be so tragic if you also inherited your father’s wanderer’s spirit?”

  “Maybe not bad for me, but I can’t imagine any family enjoying a nomad’s life.” The weight of slumber began to settle upon her, and she snuggled onto him.

  “My father was a highly successful musician. We had a home in Manchester but traveled quite often. I rather liked it. So did my brother. Now my da’s retired, and they still live in the house. It’s home. Wanting travel and adventure doesn’t have to be a curse.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Tell me about you. How come you hate women? You don’t hate your mother, do you?”

  He took a deep breath and slowly released it. “No, I don’t hate my mum. She’s the best of women. I’ve come to realize she was cut from a different pattern.”

  “Not all women are bad,” said Kendel. “In fact, most of the women I know are pretty great.”

  “To you, maybe. But then, you’re one of them, aren’t you? Partner one with a man and see how she schemes and manipulates. It’s a travesty.”

  “All women?”

  “Well, not my mum.”

  She smiled weakly. “Not mine, either. And not me.”

  Chapter Seven

  A flight attendant tapped Burn’s leg, waking him. “We’ll be landing in an hour and a half, sir. You should both eat or going through immigration will be rough.”

  “Of course.” He gave Kendel a gentle rub on her back. “Get up, gorgeous.”

&nb
sp; “Will you be eating here, sir?”

  He shook his head, needing his aide’s weight off of his full bladder. They’d slept nine hours. He hoped his feet hadn’t swollen too badly. Last time he’d slept so hard on a long flight, he couldn’t get his shoes on.

  “Are we there yet?” Kendel asked, her voice lazy and light. She rubbed her knuckles across her eyelashes then pushed to a sit and slowly blinked.

  The attendant offered an indulgent smile then left.

  “Nearly. Eat a full meal then use the loo to freshen up. We’ll be on the ground in no time.” He stood, bending to keep the luggage overhead from braining him.

  “Where are you going?”

  Her shy smile tugged at him, and he forced an exasperated huff to hide how badly he wanted to caress her porcelain cheek. “To have a waz then fill my stomach. See you later.”

  Her brow furrowed, but he ignored it as he slid past. He couldn’t let her get comfortable around him. It helped that Marty lifted her eyebrows in his direction. He shot her the bird, and she returned the gesture with a bitchy squint.

  Kendel wrapped long, cool fingers around his before he had a chance to head for first class. “Thank you.”

  He tried to scowl at her but suspected he failed. “For what?”

  “For thinking of me during the turbulence. For caring enough to come and help me. I was really afraid.”

  He feigned boredom and shrugged. Heaven help him if she discovered how much her thanks touched him. “I’m going to need you in top form today. Couldn’t have you breaking down.”

  A shadow passed over her gaze and she released him. “Well, thank you, anyway.”

  He had an urge to kiss her forehead. It startled him so sharply that he jerked. Without a word, he forced his feet away from her. He should’ve let her quit. She’d have stayed behind and vacated before he returned. The more time he spent with her, the more he realized she could cause a great deal of damage.

  She came across as genuine and endearing. As much as he wanted to believe it an act, he began to fall for it. The minute he stopped considering her capable of treachery, she would own him. Then he’d be buggered. He couldn’t do it again.

  Glad his band mates didn’t witness his return, he moved through the first class cabin and used the restroom at the front. They’d give him shit for spending the flight in coach with his PA.

  After washing his face with cold, refreshing water, he sank into the privacy of his walled seat. He gave his meal order to the pretty, middle-aged attendant then propped his feet high. They hadn’t swelled as much as he expected, but they’d cause problems if he couldn’t reduce their size.

  Between eating, getting clean, and changing clothes, he managed to stay busy through the last of their flight. To his relief, his feet fit perfectly into his boots.

  The pilot announced their descent, and the attendants moved about, stowing loose items in preparation for landing. Burn buckled his restraint, and when his mind went to Kendel, he shoved her aside. He and his mates had a busy day ahead. He had to stay focused.

  A high-pitched giggle came from somewhere in first class, and he grimaced. If V brought a scrumpet on this trip, they’d have hotel drama tonight. The lead singer treated women like disposable sex toys. Once he’d had his way, he bored and went hunting for the next one. Any chick who made the mistake of boarding the airplane on his arm would discover she had no place to stay unless she paid for her own room. She’d ride alone in the tail section on their return. V had done it more than once.

  They landed smoothly, and he smiled, glad Kendel didn’t have to suffer another fright.

  Damn it! She’d won a place in his thoughts. He had to control this and fast.

  * * *

  Marty helped Kendel maneuver through immigration at the airport. The form confused her, but she had nothing to declare, so the officer simply took her picture, stamped her passport, and wrote something in Korean on her form before waving her through.

  She admired the stamp in her book. She vowed, “This is the first of many.”

  The Goth woman rushed past. “Let’s go! It’s a race to midnight, Blaze.”

  Gripping her carry-on, she ran beside Dan’s assistant.

  “You’d think they’d never seen someone like me. Every fuckin’ time.”

  “What happened?”

  They approached the other assistants and crew who jogged, and passed them at an all-out run.

  Marty shifted her duffle further onto her back and slowed. Taking a luggage cart by two hands, she breathlessly said, “Made me remove my piercings before they’d take my picture. For a second, I thought they were going to pull me aside. First time I came here, they did that. The tour manager had to come and personally rescue me. That sucked.”

  They jogged through an enormous baggage claim area, passing ten carousels, and Kendel began to break a sweat. “How do you know where to go?”

  “Private flight.” She parked the cart and pointed to a sign written in both Korean and English. “Put your carry-on on the cart and get Burn’s stuff.”

  She collapsed her bag’s handle then laid it next to the duffle. One of Burn’s huge black suitcases lumbered around the carousel’s rounded end, and she heaved it off. Her back muscles protested, and pain shot into her shoulders. “Good Lord! What’s he got in here?”

  “None of our business.” Marty grunted as she hauled one of Dan’s silver cases onto the cart.

  Kendel caught the handle of Burn’s second bag and leaned backward to drag it off the carousel. She somehow powered his luggage onto the cart while the other assistant fetched the remaining suitcase. She helped her load it as the rest of their group arrived.

  “Come on.” Marty shoved the cart toward the nearby airport exit.

  “We’re going to the hotel?”

  “Yeah.”

  Outside, organized chaos reigned. Flurries dusted the air, but nobody seemed to notice the chill. A bus ticket office had lines. Buses parked at angles as far as she could see. At the platform’s end, transport vans and taxis loaded another line of luggage-laden passengers.

  Marty didn’t head for a line, however. She started onto a crosswalk as though oblivious to the buses and cars streaming along the multiple lanes. Kendel took hold of the other side of the cart and helped her push it across.

  On the other side, a hill led to a number of international hotels she recognized. She removed her band jacket, despite the chill. “Convenient to put the hotels in walking distance.”

  “Ha! We’ll see if you think it’s so convenient after we get this beast to the top of the hill.”

  She tossed the jacket onto one of Burn’s suitcases then helped push the cart up a sidewalk. By the time they reached the crest, she fought for breath and her heart pounded as if she’d run a mile. Her aching thighs promised soreness later. Great.

  “Still think it’s convenient?”

  She wiped a tickle of sweat from her temple. “Where are the guys, anyway?”

  “Working, like us. Didn’t you get a copy of the itinerary?” The woman cast her an irritated glance.

  “Burn sent it to my phone, but I’ve been busy.”

  Marty pointed the cart toward the second hotel’s main entrance. “This is your job.”

  “You’re right. There’s no excuse.” She panted.

  She’d been in Korea an hour, and already she’d had a workout. Marty hadn’t kidded when she said they’d hit the ground running. This place was going to either tone her body or kill her.

  A doorman stopped them, and in Korean and gestures, made it clear they couldn’t take the airport cart inside. A bellhop came and transferred their bags to a hotel cart then accompanied them inside.

  A Christmas tree, lit and decorated, dominated a wall in the huge entryway. The place dripped luxury in rich wood and marble décor. A bank of clerks welcomed guests along a desk at the rear, and the buzz of conversation spilled from restaurants on the left.

  Receptionists spoke English, and Kendel quickl
y discovered the record label had purchased a block of rooms for them. She had them swipe Burn’s card for incidentals then accepted two room keys.

  When Marty headed for the exit, Kendel hesitated. “We’re not going to the rooms with the luggage?”

  “No time.” Dan’s assistant didn’t wait, but went outside without her.

  Her heart still racing, Kendel managed to communicate to the bellhop which rooms to place each suitcase. She spent a few seconds rummaging through Burn’s bags until she found the chocolate. He’d brought the milk chocolate. Smiling, she opened the package and put a few pieces in her jacket pocket. Instinct told her he might want some, and she planned to be as prepared as an inexperienced, know-nothing American in Korea could be.

  Her hand brushed against something fuzzy as she shoved a protruding pair of jeans back inside the case. She pulled it out and grinned. A stuffed toy lion. Scary, edgy, rock-star Burn had a stuffed animal. She returned it and zipped the suitcase then waved her thanks to the bellhop.

  She didn’t have any Korean money, so she offered him a five-dollar bill. He glanced at it then at her before shaking his head and heading for a bank of elevators. Had she offended him? She lunged to grab her jacket off the retreating cart then spun on her heel and raced for the door.

  Outside, Marty waved wildly then climbed into a cab. Kendel pushed through a glass door and joined her. “Where to now?”

  “The arena. You want to be the best assistant?”

  “I do, actually.” She needed to show Burn he could rely on her.

  “You have to learn to anticipate his needs. Learn what he likes and make it available. Be where he’s going before he gets there.”

  The taxi reached the hill’s base and had to wait while the rest of their group crossed.

  “And don’t be lazy like that bunch. They do as little as they think they can get away with.”

  Kendel nodded to one, not liking the girl’s too-confident air. “Who’s the trashy-looking blonde?”

  “That’s Justina. She’s a groupie. Probably came with V. He likes to keep a piece of ass at hand, but never does the same girl twice. Justina gets around it by never putting out. She’ll do anything but spread her legs.”