Liam remained where he was. Clearly, this time he had no plans to stop her. The inscrutable expression on his face probably meant he was relieved to have dodged a bullet. Zoe came with baggage. Most men wanted easy sex with no consequences.
His nod was jerky. “My pleasure.”
“Good night.” Out in the hall, she leaned her head against the wall, her heart beating wildly. The urge to flee was strong. But she had no vehicle. Taking the little Sentra was not really an option. Even if she left behind the money to pay for it, she would not have the title. Through the years she had done a couple of things she was not proud of, but she drew the line at stealing a man’s car. Even if it was a clunker.
Being alone in the world had its drawbacks. She envied Liam his close-knit family. She’d never had that kind of support growing up, and as long as she forced herself to keep running, she would never have a shot at the kind of roots and permanence she saw in Liam.
Wiping her damp eyes with the back of her hand, she sought out her peaceful room. With the door locked behind her, she took a deep breath. Tomorrow she would make a plan.
* * *
Liam paced his roomy apartment for an hour after Zoe left. Not only was he experiencing the aftereffects of their aborted intimacy, he was also worried. Deeply worried. Zoe was in trouble of some kind. Big trouble.
It wasn’t Liam’s problem. He kept telling himself that, even as his brain wrestled with the question of how to get her to trust him. On the surface, her personality was open and sunny. But dig a little deeper and you found a woman who resembled a house of mirrors. Just when he thought he had a clear idea of who she was, he ran into a dead end.
Glancing at the clock, he decided it would be okay to call his night-owl brother.
Dylan answered on the second ring. His voice was louder than usual, obviously struggling to be heard above the noise in the bar. “What’s up? Didn’t I just have dinner with you a few hours ago?”
“I’ve changed my mind.”
“About what?”
“I wasn’t sure before, but now I want you to invite Zoe Chamberlain to sing at the Silver Dollar. The sooner the better.”
“What’s the emergency?”
Liam laughed roughly, digging the heel of his free hand into his eyes one at a time. “I wish I knew. Our beautiful guest is in some kind of trouble. I don’t know more than that. But I want to hear her sing. Is that a problem?”
“Of course not. I’ll call in the morning and tell her we’ll put together a set for tomorrow night. Will that do?”
“Yeah. Thanks, Dylan.”
His brother’s voice was wry. “You picked up the pieces when I was a mess. The least I can do is lend a hand with your new girlfriend.”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” Liam said automatically. He wasn’t sure how to categorize what he felt for Zoe, but he was pretty damned sure their situation was nothing as simple as that.
“Well, whatever she is, I hope she can sing. My regulars have been known to harass the few duds I’ve had.”
“If she says she can sing, I believe her. I plan to bring her down to the saloon and stay with her. What time are you going to tell her to be there?”
“We’ll need a few minutes to talk about songs. Do you want to grab a burger while you’re here, or is that too plebeian for your refined palate?”
“You’re such an ass. And yes. A burger sounds great.”
“Seven o’clock, then. After we eat, I’ll take her in the back for a few minutes and work on the set list.”
Liam cleared his throat. “I think dinner will be just Zoe and me. No offense.”
A second of silence stretched to two and then three. Dylan’s response, when it finally came, was hushed. “Ho-lee shee...it. Has my mighty brother fallen for a tourist?”
“Mind your own damn business. And just for the record, I’ll be joining you in the back.”
“Message received. But you don’t really think I’d poach on your territory, do you bro?”
“Do you remember Pamela Fletcher back in middle school?”
Dylan chuckled. “Point taken. But I’ve matured since then.”
“Says who?”
“Ask anybody. I’m an upstanding businessman.”
“An upstanding businessman with an eye for the ladies.”
“I’ve reformed, I swear.”
“In all seriousness, Dylan, help me keep an eye on Zoe. Some guy was here at the hotel today asking about her. Pierre told him flat out that no such person had checked in.”
“Go, Pierre. He takes his job seriously.”
“We all do. And apparently this unwanted visitor gave off enough of a bad vibe for Pierre to be suspicious.”
“Does Zoe know about the visitor?’
“Yes.”
“Be careful, Liam. You can’t always save the world.”
Liam winced, feeling something a lot like hurt. “Am I really such an insufferable prig?”
Dylan’s voice lowered to a more normal level. Presumably he had stepped into his office, because the background noise disappeared. “That’s not what I said, or what I meant. You’ve sacrificed for all of us, and we’re damned grateful. But sometimes you take on too much responsibility. You need to lighten up and live a little. If this Zoe gal is too complicated, find somebody else. But get laid and quit worrying.”
“I can’t believe I’m taking relationship advice from my baby brother.”
“You could do worse. I’ve survived the pitfalls. I’m a cautionary tale.”
“I don’t think anything is going to happen with Zoe.”
“But you want it to.”
“Maybe.” That was as honest as Liam was willing to be.
“I’ll help you watch out for your little chick, I promise. But Liam...”
“Yeah?”
“Be careful. Just because she looks like an angel doesn’t mean she is one.”
Dylan had been deceived once upon a time by a woman with a pretty face and a cold heart. The experience hit him hard, and at no point since had he allowed any woman to get close to him. He was understandably cynical when it came to the opposite sex.
“I don’t want to believe Zoe is a threat. I’m more concerned about a potential threat to her.”
“Then we’ll both be on the lookout. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
“Thanks. I owe you one.”
Seven
Zoe’s stomach fluttered with nerves. Which was disconcerting, because she was rarely unsettled before a show. It usually took her father’s goons a few weeks to find her latest bolt-hole. The fact that someone had come looking for her so quickly was alarming. But Pierre had sent the stranger away. Convincingly. So she was safe...for now. Perhaps her unusual restlessness could also be attributed to the fact that a polite bellman had delivered a note to her room an hour ago....
Dear Zoe—
I’d like to accompany you to the Silver Dollar Saloon tonight, if I may. Meet you in the lobby at 6:30? Call the front desk and leave me a message. Liam.
She had tucked the note in a drawer of the bedside table. Now she took it out and studied it again. Liam’s bold scrawl was neat, though masculine. She could almost see him writing the words, in a hurry to get on to the next thing, but still concerned with making sure she had a ride into town tonight.
She had danced around her suite when Dylan called earlier. Given the bar owner’s reaction yesterday, it seemed safe to assume she’d never hear from him. But not only had he called, he wanted her to perform tonight. With him. For the crowd at the Silver Dollar.
The whole thing had her jazzed and excited until Liam’s note arrived. Was it possible to experience stage fright in front of only one person? She was confident about her talent, but what if she had an off night? What if she hit a couple of sour notes? Or sang in the wrong key? The prospect of appearing amateurish with Liam watching made her stomach curl with dread.
Unfortunately, she was unable to think of a polite way to tell him she wou
ld prefer he stayed home. Thus at 6:25, she made her way downstairs. As she stepped off the elevator, she spotted Liam immediately. He stood on the far side of the lobby conversing with Pierre.
Though he wasn’t wearing jeans, he had clearly dressed for an occasion less upscale than dinner at Silver Beeches. A pale blue button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows exposed his tanned forearms and strained across his broad shoulders. Light khaki pants and leather deck shoes completed his ensemble. Even dressed casually as he was, he still looked wealthy and powerful. His impact was in the set of his jaw and the aura of command he wore so comfortably.
When Liam saw her approach, he said something to Pierre and crossed the marble floor. “Zoe. You look amazing.”
* * *
Liam struggled to keep his tongue from dragging the floor. It had been almost a full day since he had seen her, and his imagination had not exaggerated her appeal. Silky sunlit hair framed a face that was both girl-next-door and sex goddess. He wasn’t sure how the combination worked, but it made him hotter than hell.
He didn’t know what he had expected in terms of her performance attire. But she had surprised him. Dark-wash jeans fit her long, toned legs as if they had been sewn onto her. A narrow brown leather belt cinched her small waist. The silver and turquoise buckle was delicate and intricate.
Her blouse was the ultimate feminine weapon...a collarless, sleeveless red silk affair that clung to her breasts and tucked neatly into her jeans. He didn’t count how many buttons had been left undone, but the rounded slopes of her cleavage were tastefully displayed.
The simple gold chain that encircled her neck nestled in the valley between her breasts. On narrow, high-arched feet she wore red stilettos that brought her almost up to his height.
He knew that he had never seen a sexier, more sensual woman.
His voice was embarrassingly gruff when he spoke a second time. “Are you ready to go?”
She nodded, her smile small, but genuine. “I am.”
He took her elbow as they stepped outside. His classic silver Jag convertible, circa 1962, waited for them, engine running. After helping Zoe into the passenger seat, he put her guitar case in the back, ran around the car, and slid behind the wheel. “I decided to keep the top up since you’re performing tonight. But one afternoon soon I’ll take you for a drive in the mountains.”
“Sounds lovely.”
It was difficult to believe they had almost made love last night. Though Zoe had pulled away, he knew she wanted him. Perhaps a slow wooing was in order. For a skittish woman with defensive walls, a man needed tact and patience. Liam had both. And he was willing to do almost anything to lure Zoe into his bed. Wise or not, he had no choice. The wanting and the waiting were eating him alive.
The atmosphere today was definitely strained. He decided it was better to say nothing at all as they descended the mountain. Zoe was probably getting in the groove for her performance. And besides, he couldn’t verbalize what he was really thinking. She would no doubt run away if she had a clue what he wanted from her.
He nearly clipped a guardrail when she crossed her legs and one of her call-girl shoes fell to the floor of the car. Her toenails were painted to match the vibrant color of her outfit. Though he had never once entertained a foot fetish, he had a sudden vision of lying naked in bed with Zoe, sucking each of those small perfect toes one at a time.
In his peripheral vision he saw her grimace as she replaced her shoe. “It’s very kind of your brother to let me perform tonight. He’s taking me at my word that I can sing.”
“Were you exaggerating when you described your performance experience?”
“No.”
He patted her knee, removing his hand quickly when the contact threatened to singe his fingertips. “Then you have nothing to worry about. Dylan knows how to loosen up a crowd, and even if you were the worst singer on the planet, I guarantee you that the clientele at the Silver Dollar will cut you some slack when they get a look at those jeans.”
She turned toward him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “Are they too tight? I forgot how much I’ve eaten since I’ve been here. I guess I’ve already put on a pound or two.”
“The jeans are perfect.” End of story. A few moments later, he swung into the back parking lot of the saloon and rolled to a stop beside his brother’s vehicle in the space that was always saved for family. “You want to go in, or do you need a minute?”
Clasping her hands in her lap, Zoe inhaled sharply. “I feel like I might throw up. But I think that’s because I don’t usually know anyone in the audience.”
He ran the back of his hand down her cheek, feeling his gut tighten from that simple contact. “Are you saying that I make you nervous, Zoe?” The prospect delighted him, because it meant she was as attuned to him as he was to her.
“No comment.” Her expression was rueful.
“You’re the one who asked to sing here,” he pointed out.
“And now I want to get it over with.”
“Then let’s find my brother.”
The Silver Dollar was already packed. The hostess greeted them warmly and gave Liam a smack on the lips. “Where you been keeping yourself, gorgeous? I’ve missed you.”
Delilah was twenty years his senior and thirty pounds overweight. But her exuberant personality drew men like bees to honey. He squeezed her arm. “Behave, Dee. Meet my friend, Zoe. She’s going to sing with Dylan tonight.”
Delilah stepped back and examined Zoe from head to toe. To Zoe’s credit, she withstood the other woman’s scrutiny without flinching. Delilah shook her head. “Where’d you get this exotic creature, Liam?” Then she smiled at Zoe. “You’re a knockout, honey. Call me Dee.”
Dylan showed up at that moment and took over the task of ushering them to a table. He had reserved one for them in the back. The cramped space was the closest the Silver Dollar came to privacy. A scraggly artificial tree served as a partial barrier between Liam and Zoe and the other diners.
Despite Liam’s warning stare, Dylan seated himself at Zoe’s elbow. He handed her a slip of paper. “Do you know any of these?”
She examined the list with a dawning smile. “Only all of them.”
Dylan beamed. “Have your dinner, then, and afterward we’ll do a quick run-through and take the stage around 8:30. Sound okay to you?”
Zoe nodded, her blue eyes sparkling. “Perfect.”
Thankfully, Dylan took himself away and Liam was left to entertain Zoe. “I can recommend the hot wings and the jalapeño poppers,” he said, wondering how many hours it would be before he could take another shot at convincing her to be alone with him. And naked.
Zoe studied the menu with suspect concentration. She was jumpy as a cat with a mangled tail. Whether it was from being with him or the result of stage fright, he couldn’t tell.
After they ordered, they watched the crowd. Zoe pointed to a large man wearing nothing but red suspenders and threadbare painter’s pants. “Who is that guy?”
Liam took a swallow of his imported ale and grinned. “Big Tom. For most of the year he runs a sawmill outside of town. But from Thanksgiving to Christmas, he works at a mall in Asheville every year as Santa Claus.”
“I can see why.”
Big Tom’s gut was hard to miss. Daring to change the subject to a more personal note, Liam stroked the back of her hand lightly where it lay on the table. “I’m sorry we argued yesterday.”
Zoe’s makeup was more dramatic tonight, which made sense, because she planned to be onstage. But her thickly mascaraed lashes, lowered to half-mast, shielded her eyes. She withdrew her hand. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay. You’re entitled to your secrets. But if I’m being completely honest, I hope that you’ll eventually figure out that you can trust me.”
“Trust is a two-way street.”
“Indeed. But you make it difficult. Chamberlain isn’t your real name, is it?”
She shot him a mutinous glance. “
Yes it is. But it’s my middle name. I use it for everything. That’s not a crime the last time I checked.”
“Zoe, I’m not attacking you. I want to help. Who is the man who’s looking for you?”
“I don’t know.” Shoulders hunched, her body language screamed at him to back off.
She was lying. He knew it in his gut. But he wasn’t willing to make a scene in Dylan’s bar. Especially when Zoe was about to be in the spotlight...literally.
It went against his every instinct, but he swallowed his frustration and conceded that now was not the time for a confrontation. Their food arrived, and the moment was lost.
When Dylan came to get Zoe for their mini run-through, Liam gave his brother a pointed stare. “Your office is small. I’ll stay here and check a few emails.”
Dylan nodded, for once, his expression not teasing at all. “We won’t be gone long. Tell the server if you want anything else.”
Scanning the room for anyone who might resemble the man Pierre saw, Liam sat back in his chair and relaxed a bit. No one could harm Zoe in the middle of a crowd like this. He ate a few French fries as he scrolled through messages on his phone.
When someone sat down beside him, he looked up with a smile. Until he saw that it was Gary. And Gary looked far too serious.
The mechanic spoke in a low voice. “Is she here?”
Liam nodded. “In the back with Dylan. The two of them are performing together tonight. What’s up?”
“I sure the hell don’t know.”
“Tell me, man. She’ll be back soon.”
Gary pulled his chair closer and lowered his voice. “She called this morning and asked if I would paint her entire vehicle brown. When I finished the other repairs.”
“So?”
“Her current paint job is almost brand-new. Nary a ding or a scratch. The only reason I can come up with for covering over her daisies and all the rest is that she doesn’t want to be spotted.”
A Not-So-Innocent Seduction Page 7
