Xane flicked the tip of his tongue against the silver ring through his lip. ‘To what purpose? Everything that needs saying has already been said.’
Ash hunched his shoulders so high he was in danger of piercing his ears with the spikes on his jacket. ‘Dammit, Xane, nothing’s been said at all! It was a dumb situation to get yourself in, and it’s even dumber now. You ought to be glad you’re out of it.’
‘’Cause you’d know all about what’s best for me.’
‘I know you should have waited until the gig was over before you started your pity party.’
Yeah, and Elspeth should have held her bloody tongue until the show was done, but he didn’t suppose Ash had bothered to yell at her.
Xane moved closer to the door. His public image might be as a hard man of rock, but not even he could perform a death growl with his throat choked up and a six-foot incision in his chest.
Ash shifted to one side but slouched against the doorframe, forcing them to step over his legs to get out. ‘I’ll be in touch tomorrow. We need to talk things through.’
They didn’t need to talk about jack. Black Halo was done in its current form. ‘Whatever.’ Xane pulled his saviour into the rain.
After the heat of the arena, the cold outside came as a surprise. Xane kept hold of the girl as much for warmth as to maintain the façade that he intended to get laid. Sex was not what he needed right now. With his soul already flayed he didn’t need someone else’s expectations and emotions complicating things. And the thing about fans – which is what he gathered she was – was that they all thought they knew him, having memorised a few bits of trivia. Not only that, but they assumed, because they ‘knew’ him and loved him, he’d feel the same way in return.
He never did. They weren’t people he’d call friends. They had no life experiences in common with him. The only commonality was the music, and even then they didn’t experience it in the same way. To them it was a product; something packaged, shiny and complete. Whereas he birthed the damn stuff, taking lyrics either he or Spook had written and then scratching out the chords and rhythms that filled his head. He worked at it, transformed and nurtured it, until he had something good.
‘How far are we going?’ he asked, growing tired of the cold.
Ahead of them the car park formed a vast dark stain on the horizon, relieved only by the rainbow hues of oil-slicked puddles. Xane lifted his hand to his face to brush back his hair, whereupon streaks of kohl ran into the grooves between his fingers. ‘Where did you say you were parked?’
‘I didn’t.’ She gave him a tight smile. ‘It’s this way. I’m not in the main car park. It was full. I had to settle for a side street.’
He followed the clack of her heels for what felt like miles, while watching the sway of her butt. He’d lay money on her only dressing like this for special occasions. The clothes didn’t sit easily on her back. She was so knotted with tension she seemed in danger of snapping something. Her hemline especially was giving her issues. Her small hands constantly smoothed the cloth.
Jeans and T’s, he predicted as her usual attire. Maybe the occasional floral dress that turned her into a frump.
Xane almost fed her a corny line about how great she looked in order to get her to relax, and because even in his piss-poor mood he could acknowledge she was a knockout. The dark colours suited her peaches-and-cream complexion, while the tight cut emphasised her natural hourglass curves.
Of course, he also considered the possibility that he and not the outfit was the source of her distress. She wouldn’t be the first woman who’d landed lovely foul-mouthed him instead of kinkmeister Spook or everyone’s sweetheart, Paul.
He caught her looking back at the lights of the stadium and decided it was definitely a case of wrong-guy syndrome. Well, she was going to be doubly pissed off when she realised that not only had she landed the booby prize, but he wasn’t interested in making out. His only plan for the night was to get home and get blotto.
If that made him a bastard, then so be it.
At least he’d saved her from being screwed by Ash. Not that she’d ever thank him for it.
‘This is it.’ She stopped under a street lamp, part way along the sort of side road he’d think twice about traversing in daylight.
The wind chased the strands of her now dripping dark-brown hair across her face, giving her a solemn, slight ethereal look. She was different from the sort of girls who normally offered to take him places, but then she hadn’t actually offered, only gone along with what he’d suggested – so far.
‘This is yours?’ He’d expected her to drive a girly city runabout, not a bloody enormous sedan. Maybe she wasn’t quite as inexperienced as she looked. Her whole image might be a sham to lure guys in. Half a mile down the road, she’d probably transform into some vampire bitch queen and suck him dry.
No matter, he’d take that chance just to be away from here.
Xane settled himself into the passenger seat, from where he checked her out for fangs. No evidence of them: she had small, neat white teeth.
She nervously fussed, making multiple checks before turning on the ignition.
A powerful rumble filled the vehicle.
‘Sorry.’ She slapped a finger across the CD power button, cutting his death growl off midway through one of the band’s earliest tracks. ‘I’m sorry.’ She backed up the car and proceeded to perform the slowest turn out of a parking space he’d ever experienced, but then he was used to Rock Giant slaloming the tour bus as though it were an Aston Martin and not a converted double-decker.
‘Been driving long?’
‘Six months. How about you?’
‘I can, but I don’t very often.’
‘I don’t suppose there’s much need when you’ve people to ferry you about.’
Was that a dig? He thought it might be.
‘Where are we headed?’ she asked as they approached the first junction. ‘You’re staying at the Whyteleaf, right?’
Wrong. He might have a room booked there, but he’d never intended to occupy it. Not when he had a bolthole within an hour’s drive.
‘May I?’ He pulled his phone from his pocket and jacked it into the port on her dashboard. It was the work of moments to feed his postcode into the satnav app and have it start bleating instructions. The grating female voice made him want to cut off his ears, but it beat him having to give directions. All he wanted to do was switch off and forget.
‘Is that thing reliable?’ she asked, casting it a dubious glance. ‘It’s not likely to direct me into a ditch, or get me to do U-turns in the middle of the motorway?’
‘That’s where common sense comes in,’ he said, ticking a finger against his head. ‘You have some, right?’ Though evidently very little if she was prepared to put up with him.
‘Not sure.’ She cast him a dark look. ‘I just agreed to give a lift to a guy who looks like an axe-murderer.’
Chapter 5
Dani tried to keep her eyes on the road, but her attention kept slipping sideward. Xane Geist was in her car.
Xane Geist, for Christ’s sake!
Insane.
She’d never imagined Ginny’s plan for them to meet the band would actually amount to anything. Of course, her friend would probably kill her the next time they met for running off with Xane. Dani rather wished her friend were here. Ginny would know what to do. Ginny wouldn’t have been driving at 50mph on the motorway because she was shit-scared of what came next. She’d probably have had the shirt off his back by now, and be well on the way to an orgasm.
Dani wasn’t nearly so bold. There’d been few men of any significance in her life. However, she knew enough about rock stars to guess where driving off with one was likely to go. The frightening bit being her apparent willingness to go along with it. She knew it wouldn’t mean anything to him. He probably had a different girl at each stop on the tour. For one night he’d get wicked with her, have his fun and then be on his way. Come morning, he probably wouldn�
��t even remember her name. Not that he knew her real name now.
Her experience would be very different. She’d remember tonight for ever, whatever happened. And there would be repercussions. She could already hear Sister Anna’s voice in her head pleading for her soul, like that batshit-crazy mom out of Carrie.
If the possibility of them discovering she’d attended the gig wasn’t bad enough – Black Halo were the devil’s own spawn – then confessing to sleeping with a band member would probably see her subjected to an exorcism.
She rubbed her right wrist against her thigh, and fought not to grimace over that very real possibility.
Dani sneaked a look at Xane, which instantly replaced her frown with a goofy grin. She still couldn’t believe it was him.
Xane was busy removing his cat’s-eye contact lenses. She’d always wondered what colour his eyes really were. She guessed she’d finally find out.
He turned, and caught her staring. Amusement flickered at the centre of two storm-grey eyes.
Dani hastily turned away.
‘Do you have any water?’
‘Um, yeah. In the footwell behind you. I don’t know if you’ll be able to reach.’ They both stretched to get it at the same time, bringing them into unexpectedly close contact. For a split second, his lips were level with hers and a mere inch away.
And, oh, my God, her libido abruptly revved up and started painting lewd pictures of what she’d like to do to the guy across the inside of her brain; like kissing him for starters, and tasting those crooked devil’s lips. Maybe peeling his clothes off or digging her fingernails into the pert cheeks of his butt.
Xane flicked the tip of his tongue against the ring in his lip. ‘Road,’ he reminded her. ‘I got it.’ He leaned back against the headrest, holding the bottle.
Yeah, road! She jerked upright in time to avoid drifting into the traffic occupying the middle lane. One guy beeped her, so Xane gave him the finger.
OK. She needed to concentrate. She didn’t want to be known as the girl who killed Xane Geist.
Xane popped the cap off the bottle and took a swig. He pulled a blister pack of pills from his jacket pocket and pressed out two white tabs.
‘Hey!’ she objected, as they went into his mouth, followed by another slug of water. ‘What are you doing? What are you taking?’
‘Calm down, Mum,’ he retaliated. ‘It’s legal. Here.’ He chucked the blister strip onto her lap. ‘There, you can check ’em out for yourself, make sure I’m being a good boy.’
Somehow, Dani managed to convince her fingers to uncurl from around the steering wheel to allow her to pick up the packet. ‘What is this?’ An unfamiliar brand name was embossed on the foil. ‘Are they painkillers or something?’
‘Nap time,’ he explained with a shrug and a yawn. He turned partly away from her and sank deeper into the seat with his knees drawn up. ‘Prod me when we arrive.’
‘You’re – you’re going to sleep?’ How far was he expecting her to drive?
‘Shh, don’t talk. I need to switch off.’
OK. This was one weird-ass evening. It certainly didn’t conform to any of her rock-star fantasies, which primarily involved lush beaches and eating canapés with champagne at midnight.
Maybe the backstage pass was to blame. If Xane believed her to be a member of staff, that would explain the arrogant assumption that she was available to ferry him home.
Damn, she thought, biting her lip. She’d never expected him to love her, but now she had him within her grasp, she’d hoped the whole lust thing would at least be mutual. So far, it really didn’t look as if that were so.
Chapter 6
‘You have reached your destination.’
Dani cut the engine, thankful that the whiny woman had bleated her last. She unbuckled her seatbelt before turning to Xane, who hadn’t moved for the last forty minutes. He faced the door, with his knees drawn up towards his body. A shroud of black hair masked what little she could see of his profile.
Lucky for him Dani wasn’t the sort to molest a sleeping man. That was assuming he was actually asleep and not merely avoiding conversation.
Based on the fact he’d taken pills to switch off, she generously supposed the former.
Actually, thinking on those lines, it seemed a shame to wake him. Maybe exhaustion accounted for the gig being cut short, although that didn’t explain Ash Gore’s remarks as they’d left. It sounded as though the band had had a bust-up. She hoped it wasn’t serious.
Dani tentatively prodded Xane’s shoulder, hardly daring to make physical contact with him, half convinced the resulting feedback would zap through her synapses causing her to spontaneously combust. He didn’t stir, not even to grunt.
‘Xane.’ Dani risked a second jab into his shoulder. This time he yawned and stretched, so that the muscles flexed beneath his shirt, reinvigorating Dani’s pulse. Would he freak, she wondered, if she leaned over and licked the back of his neck?
What was she doing even contemplating such an act?
‘We’re here. I think.’
Xane glanced at his phone, which currently displayed an image of their current location, overlaid with the words ‘Destination Reached’.
‘Back up, and swing us round. Then take the first left. It’s just behind the rise.’
‘All right.’ Good to know their destination wasn’t actually a field. Dani restarted the car and followed his instructions.
Xane unplugged his phone from the car charger. ‘Now, turn in here. Just pull up in front of the house.’
‘House’? If you were being super-kind, maybe. The building she drew alongside could more accurately be described as a brick shed. Weren’t rock stars supposed to own swish penthouses, not ten-by-ten cattle barns?
‘What is this place?
Xane mumbled something that might have been ‘bolthole’ as he clambered out of the car.
Dani tentatively climbed out too. The night wind whipped across the open countryside and nipped her bare arms. Mud underfoot sucked at her shoes. Only the sight of Xane leaping about beneath the orange glow of the security light convinced her not to get straight back into the car.
‘Keys,’ he muttered, before launching himself towards the eaves again. His T-shirt rose as he stretched, giving her a tantalising glimpse of his torso. No doubt about it, Xane hit the gym on a regular basis. He was ripped to perfection, the muscles clearly defined. Rather intriguingly, a faint trace of hair led down from his navel, under the waistband of his leathers, and probably all the way to his loins.
OK, she was not pursuing that thought. Thinking about the package he had hidden there only raised her blood pressure.
‘Gotcha!’ Xane finally snagged the key from its hidden hook. He blew off the cobwebs before applying it to the lock.
‘Come in if you dare,’ he remarked before stepping inside, leaving her alone in the dark.
She wasn’t sure if that was a challenge or merely an invitation. Either way, she accepted.
Besides, it wasn’t as if he was welcoming her to a vampire dungeon. At worst, this would turn out to be his shagging shack, home to two thousand scented candles, an iron rack and an oversized four-poster bed. And crossing the threshold would automatically grant him licence to debauch her in whatever manner he fancied. That didn’t seem so bad, although she intended to have a nice long chat with him before any shagging took place.
If any shagging took place.
Gah – why did her brain fog up at the mere thought of him naked?
A light flickered on inside the building. Dani squelched forward onto the raised porch. She kicked off her shoes before entering.
Curiously, the interior didn’t reek of incense, nor were the walls painted black. There was no rack, or iron maiden, and no cobwebby alcoves harbouring human skulls.
A single twisted ironwork candelabrum was the only significant nod to the gothic horror genre, otherwise the place looked more like a forester’s hut, all reclaimed wood and earth tones. Maybe he
hadn’t been clear on his vision when he’d spoken to the designer, or hadn’t owned the place very long.
A collection of photographic prints covered the back wall of the single-roomed building. Dani wandered over to take a closer look. The images more than made up for the general lack of demonic accoutrements. Goth porn, she supposed you’d call them: all blood, skulls and depravity.
She turned away quickly as heat infused her cheeks. It seemed Xane enjoyed some pretty extreme stuff.
‘My cousin’s a photographer,’ Xane explained, confirming her suspicion the images were of him.
He was leaning against an age-blackened cabinet. The jacket and the collar he’d worn around his neck now lay in a heap beside him. ‘I commissioned those as a photo-book accompaniment to our second album. Sadly the record company vetoed the lot – something about them being pornographic, and it being bad practice for me to get my kit off if we wanted to be taken seriously. Of course, it would have been a different story if I’d been a girl.’ He scowled. ‘Anyway, enjoy. I think my cock’s out in most of them.’
‘What makes you think I want to see it?’
Oh, God, she sounded so prudish. Ginny would laugh. Her friend would have made a detailed study of every image and then insisted on a real life comparison, and would probably have taken a few extra snaps of her own.
Xane did laugh, be it somewhat humourlessly. ‘Oh, right! You mean you’re here to enjoy my riveting company and not so that I can bang you into oblivion?’
Dani planted her hands on her hips. ‘I’m not easy.’ None of this had been her idea. Yeah, she was attracted to him, but he was being exceptionally obnoxious making such assumptions and she was tempted to call him a dick. The Xane in her head wasn’t nearly so crass. He was a gentleman, even if he looked like a scary beast. Sadly, reality wasn’t quite matching up. ‘You wanted a lift,’ she reminded him. ‘I drove you. We never discussed anything else.’ He probably didn’t need to. Likely enough he took it as read that if he went home with a girl, he’d pulled.
Come Undone Page 3
