by Ann Lister
“Don't leave. Have dinner with me.”
“Why, Ben?”
“Because, we both have to eat.” he said.
“I've already had dinner.”
“No you haven't.”
Sydney looked over her shoulder toward the table. It was obvious he had gone to a lot of trouble. Staying to have dinner alone with him would undoubtedly make her uncomfortable, but leaving seemed almost cruel.
“Who are those people?” she asked.
“The guy wearing the tall white hat is a chef and the other two are waiters,” he said.
“Do they need to be here?” she asked.
“I suppose not,” he said. “I'll ask them to leave and be right back.”
Sydney stepped toward the railing and closed her eyes. The setting sun was still warm enough to heat her face. She wondered if Ben had anything beyond dinner planned or if he thought charming her with dinner would be enough to make her jump into bed with him. She shivered at the thought and opened her eyes. Ben was standing beside her watching with intense eyes.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
“I'm fine,” she said.
Ben watched her fidget beside her camera bag and hoped he hadn't made a drastic mistake by asking her to join him. He wanted to get closer to her, not push her further away.
Her eyes were breathtaking fluid pools of blue that made him melt every time he looked at her. He had never felt so out of control with a woman and his inability to clearly read her was driving him insane. Everything he did or said to her seemed to have the reverse effect he had hoped. He couldn't remember ever having to work this hard to simply get a woman to look at him. No matter what he tried, Sydney was oblivious to all his efforts.
“Do you want to eat?” he asked.
Sydney pulled her camera out of the bag. “The lighting is perfect, Ben. I might as well take some shots of you while I'm here,” she said, adjusting the lens and aperture settings.
“You don't have to, Syd,” he said quietly.
She tipped her head to him and forced a smile. “It would be criminal not to take advantage of this sunset and the natural light. Why don't you stand over by the railing?” she asked.
She moved Ben into position, with his elbows on top of the metal railing frame. She worked him through a few poses, each one becoming more intimate by default. The way he was looking at her was positively burning through the camera. He was so powerfully male and effortlessly seductive, he could have easily been a male model.
“Can you undo a few more buttons on your shirt?” she asked, then turned away and selected another lens from her bag.
Ben's lips slid into a relaxed smile. “I'll take it off, if you want me to?”
“That won't be necessary,” she said, doing her best to ignore the seductive tone in his voice.
“I really don't mind,” he said.
She kept her back to him and continued twisting the lens onto her camera.
“I'm sure you don't,” she said. “And, I'm also willing to bet you'd have no problem removing your pants either - if I asked.”
Behind her she heard the belt buckle at Ben's waist begin to jingle.
“Ben, if I hear your zipper come down, I'm leaving.”
“It was a joke, Syd,” he said, and refastened his pants.
When she finally faced him again, he was supporting himself with his arms stretched straight and hands clutching the railing frame. His shirt was completely undone and blowing open in the breeze exposing his muscled stomach; his long legs crossed at the ankle in front. Sydney nearly dropped her camera, composed herself, then lifted the viewfinder up to her eye and snapped off two shots.
“Don't change your position,“ she said, and approached him. “I just need to make a few adjustments to you.”
She stepped in front of him, trying her best not to make eye contact, then refolded his shirt collar with her fingers. She could feel his eyes on her face, as she manipulated the fabric, and heard his breathing deepen. Her hand slipped behind his neck in an attempt to flip a handful of his hair outside the shirt collar. By doing so, her fingers made contact with his skin.
“I'm sorry,” she said, and sharply retracted her hand from his shirt.
“Sorry for what?”
His voice was a soft purr that warmed her cheek.
“I didn't mean to touch you,” she said.
“You didn't feel me pull away, did you?”
“No.”
“Then, I didn't mind.”
Sydney's eyes finally met his. His face was flushed like hers, his eyes heavy with lust. He smelt so heavenly, she had to fight the urge to press her nose against his neck.
Ben held his position against the rail, as she had instructed him to, but also because he was afraid to move. His eyes were glued to her, watching her inch around him. He wondered if she was feeling the same tightness in her chest. His skin was beginning to sweat from her closeness and his groin began to react. The need he had for her was rising at an alarming rate. She shifted in front of him and adjusted his collar again, this time using both hands.
Without warning, he bent forward slightly and grabbed the hair clip at the back of her head and released it, spilling her long, blond hair around her shoulders. The wind quickly caught it, making it swirl around her throat and face.
“Why did you do that?” she asked in a shaky voice, and retrieved the clip from his hand.
“I've been wanting to do that since the day I met you,” he said in a whispered tone. The sight of her loose hair nearly made his knees buckle.
Sydney's eyes began to mist. She felt him reach for her, his hands sliding around her waist. He eased her against his chest, his eyes never drifting from hers. His mouth hovered precariously close to her lips, his nose almost touching hers. She could feel his rapid breath against her skin.
“Please, Ben. Don't,” she said, and stepped away from him. She lifted her camera one last time, focused quickly, and took the final few shots.
“I should probably leave,” she said.
“You can't be serious.”
“I'm very serious.”
“You came that close to kissing me and now you want to leave?” he asked.
Sydney nodded and carefully packed her camera equipment back into the bag.
“Are you afraid to stay because you might follow though with it?”
Sydney stood and slipped the bag over her shoulder.
“I'm afraid if I stay I won't want to stop.”
“I won't ask you to stop, Syd.”
“I know…and that's why I need to leave,” she said. Tears began to pool in her eyes.
“I don't understand,” he said, and followed her to the door.
“I don't expect you to, but this can't happen.”
“Did you want to kiss me?” he asked.
Sydney dropped her gaze to her feet. “It doesn't matter what I want.”
“It does, Syd. It matters a lot.”
“Ben, I can't do this with you,” she said. “Forget it happened.”
“And, do what? Go back to the fighting and slapping routine?”
“You don't understand,” she said, and opened the door to the stairs.
He pressed his hand against it and let it shut. “Then, make me understand,” he said.
“There's a lot about me you don't know.”
“Enlighten me, Syd,” he whispered, moving in toward her. “I want to know you.”
“I can't let that happen and I'm sorry if I led you to believe otherwise.”
Sydney opened the door again and darted down the stairs leaving Ben behind. She didn't stop running until she reached her room. Only then, did she allow the emotion of what happened on the roof top to wash over her. She hated herself for running away from Ben, but she knew she would have felt worse had she stayed.
It would be hours before she could clear her brain enough to sleep. She curled against her bed pillows and reached for her phone to call Carol.
“What's going on, Syd?”
“I'm thirty and physically I feel twice that age,” Sydney said.
“Is the job too much?” Carol asked. “I can send out a replacement or an assistant.”
“It's the close proximity of me and...them.”
“If Simon is a problem, I'll call their management.”
“It's not Simon - it's Ben.”
“What has he done?”
“Something's happening,” Sydney said, and began to cry.
“You're scaring me, Syd.”
“I'm feeling things I probably shouldn't,” Sydney said softly.
“Are you sleeping with him?”
“Of course not!” Sydney said. “But, I'll admit I've thought about it.”
“Syd, you have to remember who you're talking about and what he does for a living. I don't want to see you get hurt again.”
Sydney rolled off the bed and walked to the large window overlooking the downtown area. The city lights were making the night sky glow.
“Ben is the first guy in seven years I've felt anything for,” Sydney said.
“Does he have feelings for you?”
Sydney closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to the glass window.
“He's made it very clear he's interested.”
“Maybe he's only interested in a tour fling,” Carol said.
“Believe me, I've considered every angle for his motives. But my gut tells me he's genuine.”
“How much do you really know about him?”
“He's different from any other man I've met, Carol.”
“Exactly how much time are you spending with him?”
“He came to my room the other night and he was a little drunk.”
“I'm not liking the sound of this, Syd.”
“He was a complete gentleman. All he did was ramble on about the type of woman he's looking for. I saw a side to him that was very personal.”
“Dear Lord! You are falling for him.”
“He's really sweet and extremely…sexy.”
“Are you going to tell him about your past?” Carol asked.
A long silence filled the phone. Carol's question hit Sydney like a kick to the stomach.
“I honestly hadn't thought that far ahead, Carol. I was merely processing the feelings I have and wanted to share it with you. Isn't that enough?”
Sydney wiped the tears from her cheeks.
“You can't blame me for worrying,” Carol said. “Every time I send you out on tour, I feel like a mother bear protecting her cub.”
“I know and I thank you for that,” Sydney said. “It's just feelings at this point. I doubt it will go beyond that because we're constantly arguing.” Sydney sat on the edge of the bed and sighed. “But, then there are these brief moments of calm between us and suddenly I'm acutely aware of him, his physical closeness, the way he smells, every last detail. It's very intense. He came close to kissing me tonight and I swear I almost let him.”
“What stopped you?” Carol asked.
“The moment was so powerful. I was afraid I'd be swept away if I let him touch me.”
“So, what did you do?”
“What I do best - I ran back to my room and called you.”
“Talk to him, Syd, tell him everything. The response he gives will tell you exactly what kind of man he really is. Then, you can decide if you want to let things go beyond the ‘feelings’ stage.”
CHAPTER SIX
A thick layer of fog still cloaked the city skyline, when Sydney and the band's chartered plane taxied onto the active runway at the San Francisco International Airport. The flight would take them to Los Angeles, where they were scheduled to play three shows in the next week. The extended stay in one location excited Sydney. It meant she'd have more down-time to relax before having to repack her suitcase.
After arriving at The Beverly Hills Plaza Hotel on Wilshire Boulevard, she had one hour to rest in her room before she left with Ben and Laura for the afternoon.
Her assignment was to accompany Ben to a radio interview at the KCBS classic rock station studio and take pictures while he was interviewed. It would most certainly mean a long ride in a car alone with him, as Laura always preferred riding shotgun with Mike in the front seat. It would also be the first time she and Ben were alone since their near kiss on the roof. The thought of being with him again created a knot in her stomach.
The elevator door opened and Sydney stepped into the hotel lobby. Ben's body guard met her and quickly escorted her outside where a sleek, black limousine was waiting at the curb. Mike opened the car door and held her camera bags while she slid into the back seat.
Sydney moved across the seat and waited for her eyes to adjust to the light change. Ben's subtle masculine scent greeted her before she had a chance to focus on him. He was sitting quietly in the opposite corner of the car staring directly at her.
“Good afternoon, Sydney,” he said.
She jumped and turned away. Not because he had scared her but because of the way he made her feel every time she saw him. Heat flowed through her and flushed her cheeks.
“Don't call me that,” she said.
He felt the sting of her remark immediately.
“Oh, that's right,” he said. “I keep forgetting. Calling you by your full name implies intimacy and we're not intimate.”
“No, we're not,” she replied, glancing at him quickly and instantly wishing she hadn't.
Ben was wearing a light blue linen shirt, unbuttoned halfway exposing a short choker necklace on a piece of dark rawhide with a silver cross pendant resting at the base of his throat. His legs were encased in dark blue jeans, one ankle rested on top of his other knee, his hands were set on his thighs, and tussled hair still damp from a shower. And then there were his eyes, always searing into her, and sucking the air from her lungs whenever he looked her way. It was as if he could see right through to her soul and it unnerved her. He made her feel vulnerable, something she hadn't felt in seven years. It was a challenge to maintain control over her emotions anytime he was within sight.
“How long will it take to get to the studio?” she asked, and pulled out her laptop computer.
“Half an hour - if there's no traffic,” he answered.
He was irritated she was already absorbing herself in work and certain she was doing it on purpose. The lengths she went to avoid talking to him was immeasurable and that angered him the most.
They rode together in silence, with Sydney hiding behind her computer and Ben watching the traffic pass on the highway. Finally he shifted his long legs. It was a movement Sydney couldn't ignore, no matter how badly she wanted to. The ring of her phone thankfully redirected her attention.
“Hi Carol, I'm in the middle of something,” Sydney said. “Can I call you back?”
“I think there's a little more than 'feelings' going on, Sydney.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I just finished skimming through the photo file you sent me last night. Nice work - probably some of your best to date, especially the last half-a-dozen shots. But I'm guessing you didn't mean to send me those.”
“I'm still not following,” Sydney said, and quickly began hitting several buttons on her computer to reveal the file she had sent to Carol. The last eight photographs were of Ben on the roof. Seeing the images again made her flush.
“Oh, shit!,” Sydney said. “You're right. I didn't mean to send those.”
“Has he seen these proofs yet?” Carol asked.
“No, he hasn't.”
“Well, you might want to destroy the last couple of shots altogether,” Carol giggled. “If I didn't know better I'd swear he was har…”
“Don't say it, Carol!”
“Does he always look at you like this? And keep in mind, Syd, it is you he's looking at - not your camera.”
“In those moments of calm I was telling you about,” Sydney whispered. Her body was beginning to sweat as she glanced through the photos again.
“Did those
photographs come before or after your ‘near-kiss’?” Carol asked. “I'm guessing after and that's why he appears to be so…aroused.”
Sydney turned away from Ben's stare and covered her mouth with her hand.
“I can't talk now, Carol. He's sitting right across from me. I'll call you later.”
Carol started laughing. “You better call me back or I'll be calling you!”
Sydney closed her cell phone and slid it back into her pocket. She didn't have to look at Ben to know he was still staring at her. She could feel his eyes on her.
“What's going on?” he finally asked.
Sydney turned toward the window. “Nothing that concerns you.”
“Bullshit! It's obvious you were talking about me.”
Sydney reluctantly faced him. “I sent the photographs I took of you on the roof to my agent by accident,” she said.
“Really? Can I see them?” he asked, and moved over to her side of the limousine.
Sydney pulled away. “You don't want to see these. Trust me.”
“Why not?”
“Let it go, Ben. I'll destroy the file when I get back to the hotel.”
“Let me see the damned pictures.”
She held his gaze for a moment, then popped open her laptop again.
“Fine. Enjoy,” she said, and set her computer on his thighs.
“Press this button to advance the photo to the next shot,” she said, and sat back against the seat.
Ben began slowly moving through the shots. A smile spread across his face. “What's wrong with these?” he asked. “I think they're great and you were right, the lighting was perfect.”
Sydney's eyes shifted outside the window again. She knew what was coming and it was out of her hands to stop it. All she could do was wait for his reaction.
“Nice shot, Syd,” he laughed. “Did you take this last one on purpose?”
“No!”
“I find that hard to believe, considering all the time you spent adjusting every other detail about me. You didn't notice the tent I had pitched in the front of my pants?”
“I wasn't looking…there,” she replied.
“Then, what the hell were you looking at?”
“The way the sun was hitting your face and chest,” she said softly.
