Finding Her Rhythm (Backstage Pass Series)

by Wade, Dani

  FINDING HER RHYTHM

  A BACKSTAGE PASS NOVEL

  BY DANI WADE

  Copyright 2013 Katherine Worsham

  KINDLE EDITION

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Cover Art Design by Elizabeth Wallace

  Editing by Ella Sheridan

  Formatting by Hot Damn Designs

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Also Available From Dani Wade

  About the Author

  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated with love and appreciation to the best friends I could imagine having, the Playfriends: Kimberly Lang, Kira Sinclair, Andrea Laurence, and Marilyn Puett. Thanks for plotting in the hot tub, talking me off ledges, and teaching me how to have fun. Your friendships have blessed me beyond measure.

  Chapter One

  “You want me to nanny for a Jon Bon Jovi wannabe?” Taylor asked, laughing at Stephen's stern expression.

  Not that she'd expected any different. As a high-powered attorney, Stephen was more somber than most, which was why she had to tease him every once in a while. All that seriousness wasn't good for his health.

  He went along with it, for the moment. “Absolutely not. Michael Korvello and his band are way cooler than Bon Jovi ever thought of being. Trust me.”

  But is he as sexy?

  Taylor crushed the thought immediately. Her libido had run screaming from the building months ago, and she had no intention of letting it back in the door. Her mama had been right.

  Lust leads to nothin' but trouble.

  If only she'd listened in the first place. Better to talk about—think about—something else.

  “I’ll take your word for it,” she said with a shrug. “Hard rock has never been my music of choice.” Though she had heard a few of the band’s slower songs. The Top 40 stations she listened to might even push the envelope with some of Solar Uprising’s edgier music, but mostly they loved to dish lots of gossip about the Korvello brothers—guitar player Michael and the band’s lead singer Daniel, whose sexual exploits were widely documented.

  “I wish you hadn’t waited so long to contact me,” Stephen said. “Damn it, Taylor, what is it with you and asking for help? How many times have I told you to call if you need me?”

  She shrugged, her shoulders feeling heavier than usual. Too many questions. Not enough answers. “I've been standing on my own for too long, I guess.”

  “It doesn't have to be that way,” he said, an attempt at a smile long gone. “Now that we know what he’s capable of—”

  “Can we please not talk about Bradley right now?” she asked, afraid tears might sneak up on her with very little provocation. Maybe teasing him some more would take her mind off her problems. “Your secretary might ask a few questions if she finds you comforting a weeping mess of a woman.”

  “Don’t you think she’s used to that by now?” he said, falling into her ploy with a grin. “Seriously, this job is perfect for you. Your background is excellent,” he said. “Your record after six years of working at the county middle school is outstanding, and I can personally vouch for how great you are with kids. My monsters love you.”

  Taylor flushed with warm fuzzies when she thought about Amber and Katie—full of girlie-girl sass and really tight hugs.

  She could use a good dose of kid fun after seven months of fear and failure.

  “How old are Korvello’s children?”

  Stephen relaxed back in his creaky leather chair, grinning like he'd won this round. “Thirteen and fifteen. One boy. One girl. Nothing in the file indicates any problems. The current nanny had to leave unexpectedly to care for a terminally ill parent, and they need someone right away.”

  Taylor knew just how urgent those family emergencies could be. “Did you get Granny settled?” she asked, her heart aching that she hadn't been there to ease the transition for her only living relative. But Stephen had thought it best that she stay away while they got her grandmother settled in a new nursing home under an assumed name. Fewer crumbs for Bradley to track. Luckily her grandmother wouldn’t notice the difference—her Alzheimer’s disease had gotten severe over the last year.

  Leaving Taylor to feel like she was losing her last grip on family along with her sanity.

  “Yes, ma'am,” Stephen said with a soft smile. “New facility, new name. All her paperwork is under our company's title. She'll never know the difference, poor thing, but they'll take very good care of her. I promise. One of the managers is a personal friend of mine.”

  “She was living completely in her childhood when I saw her last week.”

  He nodded. “The doctor says it’s permanent at this point. But what else can we expect? She's seventy-five years old. She deserves some sort of peace and quiet.”

  She certainly wouldn't get any peace living with Taylor.

  Turning to the window, Taylor stared out into the bright spring sunshine and wished some of that brilliant light could erase so many of her mistakes. She’d been lonely, having lost her parents two and a half years ago, and had just enough gumption to go searching for the sexual experience she’d been curious about her entire life. Bradley had been a member of a BDSM club she’d visited, hoping to experiment. They’d only been together a few months before she realized her interests had nothing to do with whips and chains but with handing over control to someone who could make her stop thinking for a little while and simply feel.

  Bradley had far more painful interests.

  It had taken her a while to fight both her grief and her fear, but finally she’d gathered her courage and kicked him to the curb. That confrontation had ended with her in the emergency room to check for broken bones.

  Soon enough, she’d realized it was just the beginning.

  She'd tried to get away from him without disrupting her life or Granny's, but everywhere she turned, there he'd been. Six months later, with school almost over for the year, she knew she'd have to do something drastic. He followed her to work, trailed her through grocery stores, and last week had broken into her new apartment. She'd barely gotten a call in to 911 before he'd snatched the phone from her hand.

  Oh, he'd been careful not to hurt her this time, but his words had been even more frightening. One day, this body will be mine again. She didn't even know why he wanted it—at five foot six and a hundred seventy pounds, she was curvier than most. An active lifestyle had never changed that. But it didn't stop Bradley—not a single inch. Even the police couldn't hold him after he made bail for breaking into her apartment.

  Where can you hide, Taylor?

  She wrapped her arms around her waist, wishing she had someone to hold her tight and keep her safe. She was so tired of being the strong one. Every new stunt Bradley pulled left her shaking and lost.

  Now she’d moved past scared to terrified. If Steph
en couldn't help her, she was screwed.

  As if he trailed the direction of her thoughts—not surprising since they'd known each other from grade school—he said, “What better place for you to be safe than behind a six-foot electrified fence and a security gate? Michael Korvello has the best protection for his family, especially since he's out of the country half the time.”

  “Perfect. I could do without men, especially sexy ones, for about another, oh, ten years.”

  Even though he smiled, Taylor recognized the hint of sadness. Of regret. Stephen had watched out for her since her parents died, but a busy law practice and family meant her ex's behavior had slipped through the cracks. Until it was too late.

  Plopping into a chair facing the desk, Taylor let her head drop into her hands. “This is all my fault.”

  Stephen was there in a few steps, squeezing her shoulders. “You were lonely, honey. You’d just lost your family, taken on Granny’s care. Don’t beat yourself up. He did it enough for you.”

  “You know he's gonna show up like a bad penny.” She swallowed hard. “He always does.”

  “Once you’re on Michael Korvello’s estate, it won’t matter. You could live there the entire summer and never step foot off the property. No need to, except to see your grandmother,” he said with a satisfied grin. “It’s almost better than a Klingon cloaking device.”

  She shook her head. “If other people knew what a geek you were—”

  “Only you and the wife.”

  “How many Star Wars movies do you make her watch on your rare days off?”

  “Star Trek, my dear. Star Trek.”

  Taylor grinned, relaxing into the familiar banter. She didn’t want Stephen to worry. If she could stop herself from worrying, even better. But she’d settle for not obsessing over her last encounter with her ex-boyfriend: the feel of Bradley’s hot breath against her ear and his big body holding her down on the hard plank floor…

  “So what do I have to do to apply for this job?” she asked.

  Considering all her savings were gone and she desperately needed money to take care of her grandmother, it didn't look like she had much choice.

  “As far as Michael knows, the job’s already yours. We'll worry about the details later, shall we?”

  As he laid out the plan, Taylor felt her head start to swim. How had this happened? One day she was a plain middle-school English teacher. The next, a rock-star nanny.

  * * *

  Michael Korvello slipped into the predawn quiet of his house outside of Atlanta and let the peaceful stillness soak in for just a minute—until his brother pushed in behind him.

  “Move, asshole.”

  That was Daniel. All noise.

  “Don't be so loud. I don't want to wake the kids,” Michael said.

  “In a house this size, I don't think that will be an issue, bro.”

  He was probably right, but the standard held. He'd gotten used to tiptoeing into their rooms to take care of them when they were babies, and hadn't broken the habit.

  “Just keep it down, will ya?”

  Shit, they were both grouchy. Ten straight weeks on the road would do that to a man.

  Even so, he was addicted. He’d be out the door in half a day if it meant immersing himself in the adrenaline and pounding music that came with being onstage. At the same time he dreaded being away from his kids.

  Dropping his carry-on, he and Daniel strode through the quiet back halls from the attached garage. Byron, the bodyguard they traveled with, had headed straight for the apartment above the garage after checking in with security. One by one Michael could shed the layers from the road until he was just Michael again, Dad, not guitarist for a hard-rock band growing in popularity every year.

  Great job security. Tough on the personal life.

  When they rounded a corner, light appeared ahead, along with the faint swoosh-swoosh of the treadmill from the glassed-in workout room.

  “Looks like somebody's up,” Daniel said. “I hope they made coffee.”

  Drink of the gods. Amen.

  But one look through the glass had Michael swallowing his tongue. The room was empty except for a woman running on one of several treadmills. Angled in profile, she was shorter than average, but skintight spandex shorts outlined perfectly curved hips and an ass with plentiful enough to make his palms itch with curiosity. Her top was covered by a loose T-shirt that couldn't hide the bouncing of generous breasts, moving in rhythm with the swinging of dark blonde hair.

  Michael’s mind immediately filled with images of tying her to his bed, sweat and all, and—

  “Holy shit, brother. Who's that?” Daniel asked.

  Michael could barely hear above the beating of his pulse in his chest and other very inappropriate places. Because the addition had to be their new nanny.

  Without even meeting her, his body revved into high gear. Hell no. This would not work.

  Michael had been extremely careful in the five years since his wife's death not to let any form of temptation invade his private life. No booze, no drugs, and no women who stroked the dark desires he was determined to keep under wraps.

  He might still have a reputation as an all-in, balls-out rock star, but he hadn't lived the lifestyle in a long time. His kids meant too much to him for that.

  “I think that's my new nanny.”

  “Fuck me,” Daniel said with a kind of awe. “How'd you get such a hot chick employed in your house?”

  “I. Don't. Know. I let the lawyer hire someone.”

  “You trusted this to a lawyer?”

  “Stephen's a good guy. Plus he has kids of his own. I thought he knew what he was doing.”

  But obviously he hadn't. No way would Michael have ever hired a hottie to work in his house. He wanted Plain Jane—for his own protection. Yep, he was a coward that way. Guess he’d forgotten to give Stephen that part of the job description.

  “Do you know anything about her?”

  Michael frowned. “Of course I do. Her name is Taylor, and the kids have told me a few things over the last few weeks.”

  “Like what?”

  For the life of him, Michael couldn’t remember.

  “Looks like the monk is facing a bit of a challenge.”

  “What?” Michael asked, turning to look at his brother.

  “Wake up! You haven't even met the woman and you’re standing here with your mouth open and your dick hard. I'd say you're doomed.”

  “Oh hell no. First thing I'm calling Stephen and—”

  “And telling him what? ‘Get this woman out of here before I fuck her’?”

  “Hey, language.”

  Daniel rolled his eyes. “Do you see any kids around?”

  “No, but that's not the point.”

  “I know. The little boogers have ears like radars.”

  The familiar argument reset Michael's equilibrium somewhat, but the boat wasn't through rockin' yet. He turned back to the glass, mouth watering, while Daniel contributed his own “mmm, mmm” to the party. How was he supposed to fix this?

  A minute later the blonde caught sight of them in the mirror, jerked in surprise, and lost her balance on the moving belt. A muffled scream reached them outside the room. Michael knew she was going down before she even grabbed for the rails.

  As he and Daniel rushed the door, Michael’s mind filled with a picture of those wide, green eyes. Gorgeous.

  They cleared the doors to find her scrambling back up the treadmill, struggling to get her feet under her.

  “Ma’am, are you okay?”

  Daniel’s voice just seemed to agitate. Her hand slapped at the display until the belt stopped, then she snatched at the white cord now dangling nearby. Michael knew exactly what the button on the end of that cord did. His whole body tensed.

  “Who the hell are you two?”

  Her face had flushed a bright red, but it only seemed to emphasize the outrage in those green orbs. Her thumb remained poised over the bright red panic button. “St
art talking before I call for security,” she said, her fingers flexing.

  “Wait,” he said. Somehow his instincts not to wake the kids were still flying warning flags. That button wouldn’t just wait the kids—it set off an alarm that would wake the whole neighborhood. “I'm Michael, Michael Korvello. I live here.”

  Her body froze, but it must have been too much for that gorgeous head. Even sitting down, she lilted to the side as if she’d pass out. Rushing forward, Michael made a grab for the arm she’d been leaning on to steady her.

  It wasn’t until she lifted those heavily lashed eyelids that he noticed the wide dilation of her eyes, the pupils almost swallowing the green rim. Her breath caught and held. So did Michael’s.

  As if he watched himself move, he saw his other hand encircle the inside of her wrist. Both sets of fingers squeezed just enough to make their presence known, locking her in his grip with no way out.

  Her pupils expanded once more as her eyes met his. He recognized the surrender that slipped over her features as her body moved to a whole new place. Somehow he knew. Not only was his new nanny sexy, she was his own personal kryptonite.

  Truly submissive.

  He wanted to jerk back like he was holding fire, but controlled himself enough to lift her to her feet. Even sweaty and shaken, she was a delicious armful. He needed to get the hell away. He tried to use his brain for the first time in this situation but still found himself pulling back slowly. Oh, he was making sure she was steady on her feet. He was also lingering way longer than he should.

  She didn’t say a word, but her other hand moved to unconsciously trace the very point where he’d held her wrist. Her lashes dropped to protect her eyes for long moments.

  Her pull finally broken, Michael glanced at his brother, who was holding back a case of hard-core laughter. Damn bastard. Taylor’s gaze lifted to focus somewhere near his mouth, and he recognized the emotion sweeping over her face.

  Embarrassment.

  “Mr. Korvello, I'm so very sorry. No one told me to expect you, and I didn't know you or your—” She shot a quick glance in Daniel's direction.