She grasped the handle of her small, purple suitcase and headed for his door. “I’m a quick study. I try never to make a mistake twice. Aren’t you impressed?”
“Enormously.”
She chuckled. “Fifteen minutes.”
“Until what?”
She opened his door and turned to face him in the doorway. “Album signing. Get changed. You’re supposed to look like a rock star.”
He grinned. Next door, her room door opened on a click then closed with a gentle clunk. He enjoyed her too much.
In the lobby, she stepped from Marty’s side, an approving glint in her eyes. She fingered the zipper on his black leather jacket. “This is more like it.”
“Am I a sexy rock god?”
Her eyebrows dipped a hair and her smile faltered. “No comment.”
Studying her a moment, he wondered if she suffered the same attraction for him he suffered for her. For the first time, he regretted the damage Wendy had done. He’d welcomed it, had used it as his shield against further harm and vulnerability. Now this gorgeous, intelligent, charming woman stood before him, and he could only wonder how long it would take her to betray him.
Self-loathing forced his feet into action. Heading for the door, he said too harshly, “Get me another buckwheat tea.”
The assistants rode in a van behind the band’s. His friends rode in silence, and he suspected they sat in the same jet-lagged daze he did. He wanted to sleep, but they had no time. Sipping the tea helped.
By the time they reached the gigantic store of music, he had an energy boost. His band mates still dragged, so he took the lead. Thousands of fans snaked through the store, waiting to meet them. FlameSmith security had erected a barrier that separated their table from the main area, and guards only allowed five people past at a time.
A twenty-foot, artificial Christmas tree towered behind them, and huge green and red candy canes hung from the ceiling and swayed in warm air wafting from vents. Burn grinned. The Koreans seemed to enjoy the holiday as much as anyone else.
While he and his mates signed albums and took photos with polite, smiling fans, Kendel and Marty fetched pre-signed photos of the band from boxes the store had provided. The girls, in their official FlameSmith jackets, worked the waiting line and answered questions. How had he and Dan lucked into such amazing assistants? Jay’s, Air’s, and V’s aides had gone elsewhere the moment they’d arrived at the mall.
The store staff kept cold water available at the table, but Kendel made sure he had buckwheat tea. At one point, she put a chocolate bar next to his cup.
While signing albums for a set of teenaged twin girls, he glanced at the waiting line. Where it went out the door into an attached mall, a young man with spiked, bright red hair leaned near Kendel and fingered one of her long locks.
Burn froze. Instant rage lit him from inside. The marker in his hand trembled.
“What is it, mate?” Dan followed his line of sight. He put a hand on Burn’s shoulder. “She’s just your aide. We don’t get to tell our employees with whom to associate.”
Kendel smiled and grazed straight fingers along the red spiked ends. She said something, and the man laughed. Her laughter joined his.
Burn dropped the marker.
V got to his feet on his other side. “Oh, shit. I had it wrong. She’s not yours. You’re hers.”
“What?” Burn stood, sending his chair toppling.
The crowd quieted, and Kendel’s eyes met his. Her smile melted. Immediately, she headed his way. Concern darkened her gaze. Fortunately, every step she took from the man, the calmer Burn grew.
“Take her someplace private,” Dan said quietly. “Go talk. We’ve got this.”
Talk. Right.
When she reached him, he took her by the sleeve of her jacket. “Come with me.”
“What’s wrong?”
He headed toward the back of the store. All eyes followed their retreat.
She gave her arm a resisting tug. “You’re scaring me, Burn.”
He palm-slammed through double metal doors into a storage room. Two workers startled then stared. He roared, “Get out!”
The workers hastily bowed then scurried away.
Facing Kendel, he took a deep breath then slowly released it.
“You’re so mad. Did I do something wrong? Am I fired?” Her large, blue eyes widened a fraction. She really had no idea.
“Damn it,” he ground through his teeth. He’d never wanted to kiss a woman more than he did Kendel in that moment. “You were flirting with that man.”
She frowned. “Flirting? Is that what this is about?”
“Admit it.”
She yanked her sleeve free of his grip. Her face going pink, she said, “He’s a boy, not a man. Besides, what do you care?”
He cared. God help him, he cared. Locking eyes with her, he fought an overwhelming need for her. It took every ounce of strength he had. In a quiet voice, he admitted, “I saw you talking to him. Laughing with him. And it gutted me.”
Her eyes softened, and she took a step nearer. “We were only talking. Apparently they don’t see many natural redheads here.”
He took one of her curls between two fingers and stroked his thumb along its silken strands. He wanted to be the only man allowed to do this. “It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”
Her lips parted, but she said nothing. Then something sparked in the flames of her blue eyes. Something primal and hopeful and longing.
It matched perfectly what he’d tried to deny in himself since meeting her. No longer able to subdue it, he closed the distance between them and cupped her face. She didn’t resist.
When her gaze went to his mouth, he gave in to his need. He pressed his lips to hers.
* * *
Shaking with desire and restraint, Kendel melted into Burn. Her brain bellowed that she made a huge mistake, but her senses rejoiced. He smelled of leather and sandalwood, and he tasted of sweet chocolate cereal. His lips, firm and warm, worked seductively across hers. Grazing then pressing then urging her to open.
Lights flashed behind her eyelids as she obeyed his silent command, letting his tongue enter. She eagerly met it and entered into an erotic dance. Lifting to her tiptoes, she wrapped her arms around his neck.
He wanted her. He’d been jealous. She’d longed for this while dreading it. Now that she drowned in his kiss, all her turmoil crashed over her.
“Wait.” She gently pushed his shoulders and withdrew. It physically pained her to deny her passion. “Wait. This isn’t a good idea.”
“You think too much.” His voice rasped, sexy and low.
Taking her by the back of her head, he captured her mouth with a need that matched hers. The way he’d looked in his boxer briefs that first morning. The way he’d held her on the plane. The way he’d rocked her onto her heels at the concert last night. She couldn’t help wanting him. When he wasn’t querulous, nobody turned her on more.
Already, a coil of excitement tightened in her belly. Throbbing began at the juncture of her thighs. His other hand went to her lower back. When he brought her against him, she felt his arousal through his leather pants. This would go too far too fast.
She groaned. “No. We’ll regret it.”
“We won’t,” he whispered against her lips.
She pulled free. Panting, she ran fingers through her hair. “I will.”
His hooded gaze nearly undid her, especially when he touched his lips and looked at her mouth. Taking another step away, she held out a hand and shook her head.
“You knew this had to happen,” he said.
“I didn’t. It doesn’t.” She willed her heart to slow its racing pace. “I work for you. I didn’t come into this job hoping for a boyfriend. I want this to be just a job so that, in a year, I can simply walk away. No regrets. No ties.”
He approached. “We can be friends. What’s the phrase? Friends with benefits? No emotional entanglements. We both get what we want.”
“I can’t, Burn.
I’m not built that way. I’m sorry.” Her stomach twisted.
“You won’t last a year.” He came a step closer, his eyes losing their lazy lure and going hard. “Either you’ll come to my bed or I’ll run you off. Maybe both. You’re too beautiful, and I’m too defective.”
“I hate to break it to you, but you’re not that defective and I’m not beautiful. It’s a nice idea, but this is a tragedy.” She slid sideways, her back now to a storage shelf, and aimed for the door. “We’re adults. We can control ourselves. We can be friends without benefits.”
“And if not?” He advanced on her.
Panicked, she stumbled. “Then we adopt a formal attitude, which is appropriate between an employee and her boss.”
“Won’t work.”
“Then I’ll quit.” She shot out of the doors and speed-walked toward the table, glad to see the red-haired man had gone. People stared, including Marty and the band, and her face heated unbearably. “I will not love a man like my dad.”
* * *
Burn’s assistant avoided him the remainder of the signing. Afterward, the store hosted a luncheon, and he smiled when a woman carried a platter of bulgogi to the buffet. Unfortunately, it didn’t taste as good as the beef Kendel had bought for breakfast.
She ate by Marty and Jay’s assistant, barely sparing him a glance the entire meal. Her slighting of him bothered him far more than speculative glances and whispers all around. For the last three days, she’d doted on him. Spoiled him. It didn’t matter that he paid her to do it. He’d grown accustomed to her.
When the meal ended, they said their thanks and goodbyes. Burn took a bodyguard and went to the mall. He’d tried to make it a habit of sending his mother a gift from whichever country he visited.
As he strolled, he came to a gift shop displaying an elaborate golden lion in the window. He couldn’t pass it.
“Welcome,” greeted a motherly clerk behind the counter. “What I help you find?”
“This lion here.” He pointed to the window as his security man stood at the shop’s door. “How much is it?”
She came out from behind the counter, and a young couple, the only other customers in the shop, smiled nervously at him then left. The clerk took the lion from its display and flipped it.
“Five hundred thousand won, sir,” she said and offered it to him.
Burn accepted it. The lion, no larger than his hand, weighed close to two and a half kilograms. Brush strokes and telltale wavers in point lines attested to hand-painting. “It’s not solid gold.”
“No, sir. Korea very strict about gold. Leaf, sir.”
“Gold leaf.” He nodded understanding. The piece was stunning. “How much in dollars?”
She went to the counter and calculated then showed him the number display. Four hundred eighty-three dollars. Declaring it when returning to America could cause difficulties.
“Let me think about it,” he said and moved toward a display of wooden boxes inlaid with mother of pearl. His mum would be thrilled to get one of these.
“Four hundred fifty thousand won,” she said.
He glanced at her. “For the lion?”
“Yes. For lion.”
If his math worked out, she’d knocked ten percent off the price. He’d never haggled before, but she seemed eager and appeared to make it easy. Pointing at a lovely round box decorated in white cranes and colorful flowers, he asked, “How much for this one?”
She went behind the counter and put the box on the glass case top. “Fifty thousand won.”
For the size and detailing, she asked a reasonable price.
“Both lion and box, four hundred thousand ninety won.”
He smiled. “I’ll take the box. I’m not sure about the lion. It’s expensive, and I’ll have to declare it on the flight home.”
“No problem. No problem.”
“Maybe not for you, but immigration can be hell.”
“Hell?”
He shook his head. “Never mind.”
A shelf of books ran the length of the wall under the display window, and he squatted. One title caught his eyes. Asian Culture and Food for the English-Speaking Traveler. Immediately, he thought of Kendel. He pulled it off the bookcase and handed it to the woman.
“Ten thousand won,” she said.
For this item, it didn’t matter. He wanted it for Kendel.
The clerk put the book and box next to the lion at her register. “Make deal. Four hundred fifty thousand won for all three.”
He really wanted the lion. So much that his throat constricted at the thought of leaving the shop without it. “I’m not sure it’s worth the trouble.”
“No trouble. No trouble. Ship FedEx. One hundred fifty thousand won. Export and import tax paid, yes? No declare.”
“It’s not illegal?”
“No illegal. FedEx ship. Same as when buy internet. Good laws. Yes?”
“It makes sense, but if I get in trouble, I’m sending the authorities to you. Very good. I’ll take all three.” As happy as he was to purchase the lion, he looked forward more to Kendel’s expression when he gave her the book.
The clerk gave him a shipping label to complete while she rang the sale. While she ran his credit card, she wrapped and boxed his items. Before he left, she sealed the package closed, adhered his label, and placed the box on a stack against the wall.
Satisfied, he accompanied his bodyguard outside. Cabs lined the curb, so they didn’t have to wait. He used the ride to catch up on texts and emails then forwarded candid pictures of this trip to the band’s promotions coordinator to update the FlameSmith website and social media feeds.
When they arrived at the hotel, however, he had only one thing on his mind. Kissing Kendel one more time.
Chapter Twelve
“Why can’t we go to the arena and prepare for tonight’s concert?” Kendel asked.
Marty stepped to the hotel hallway and let her door close. “Aren’t you jet-lagged? This is the time to catch up on sleep.”
“I’m not tired.”
Marty’s plum-colored lips widened in a closed-lipped smile. “Wanna watch a movie? This hotel’s got new releases for free.”
“That sounds great.”
Dan came from his room. “Are you two getting ready to do something? I’m wound too tightly to sleep.”
Kendel smiled. “I was thinking of sightseeing, but it’s not practical considering our working hours tonight.”
“It’s snowing, anyway. You don’t want to go out there.” Unlocking her door, she said to Dan, “We’re going to watch a movie. That way we can rest but still have some entertainment. Want to join us?”
“Blinding idea. Count me in.”
His assistant went into her room. “I’ll order snacks from room service.”
An idea formed, and Kendel beamed. “I have an unorthodox idea. Do you think Burn’s awake?”
* * *
Pacing only made Burn more uptight. It didn’t help that Kendel stayed in the next room. A mere wall separated him from her.
“Oh, sod a cat, I’m no piss weak.” He strode for his door.
She’d listen to his reasoning, and if not, he’d kiss her mindless until he convinced her. No harm could come from a bit of fun, meaningless sex. He needed it to get her out of his head. Since their kiss, he hadn’t thought of much else. As he reached for the door knob, someone knocked. He yanked it open.
“Wow,” said Kendel, blinking. “Were you expecting me?”
“Not exactly. Listen, about what happened—”
“Well, I’m coming in.” She pivoted sideways and dipped under his arm.
“No—”
“Wow.”
He closed his eyes, squeezed his hand into a fist and exhaled a blast through his nostrils. Letting the door close, he said, “You said that already.”
“Burn.”
He slowly turned.
“This is a lot of lions.” She scanned the room, hardly moving.
“Twelve
, to be precise.” He tensed, bracing for her ridicule.
She plucked a beanbag lion from the dresser’s end. “I know this cute little guy.”
“Say again?”
Facing him, she smiled kindly and petted the toy. “When I took some chocolate from your suitcase before yesterday’s concert, I met this lion. So cute.”
“Chocolate. Right. I hadn’t thought…”
“Is this why you didn’t want me in your room this morning? Because you collect lions?”
“Erm…well, I… Yes. Okay, yes.” He relaxed. She hadn’t laughed, and it meant a lot.
“I like that you collect. It makes you more human.”
He took the beanbag from her and returned it to its place. “Am I less human in your opinion?”
“No.” She stepped from her shoes. “More like bigger than life.”
“Intriguing. So you’re searching for ways to reduce my…size.”
She quietly laughed. Removing her socks, she said, “Something like that. You’ve given me a lot of reasons to quit. I guess I’m seeking reasons to stay.”
“And my lions are a reason for you to stay?” He tried to comprehend her rationalization. His family teased him about the collection. Dan had laughed for two minutes straight when he’d first seen it fifteen years ago. He eyed her bare toes. Had she changed her decision about sex? “Incidentally, why are you—”
She unbuttoned her jeans.
He froze. Yes!
“What?” she asked. “You’re not going to be a prude all of a sudden? Come on.”
He pulled his shirt from the waistband of his pants. “You’re a bit of a light switch, gorgeous. One minute, you say no. The next you’re in my room undressing.”
She grinned, unzipped her jeans then stripped them off. “This is our chance for a movie in our underwear without any embarrassing interruptions. Room service is bringing snacks.”
His heart plummeted. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. Off with those leather pants.” She took his remote and powered on the television. “Unless you’re commando…”
Burn smiled in disbelief. Well, he’d have her in her knickers. How hard would it be to kiss her naked and get her underneath him? He sat and removed his boots. “Then we’re friends.”
Rock My Christmas (FlameSmith in Love Book 1) Page 8
