Sweet Seduction Serenade

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Sweet Seduction Serenade Page 5

by Nicola Claire


  "Oh, and now we're onto full names, Nicholas. How grown up of you."

  "I'm not the one acting like a spoilt child," Nick shot back. And then bizarrely added, "I don't sleep with someone and then leave without a word, a note, a backwards glance. Nothing for eight fucking years. You're the child not me."

  Holy heck, cowboy! Where the darn hell did that come from?

  I glanced at my Dad, his head was down, chin on chest. I think he had fallen asleep. My eyes found the ice-blue frost king still staring icicle daggers at me.

  "That was a mistake," I declared.

  "Yes it was. You should have woken me and told me you had to leave."

  "No, not the not telling you part," I corrected, going for my own cowgirl ice princess, "the sleeping with you part."

  "Is that right, angel," he said, jaw clenched. "That's not what it felt like when you writhed beneath me, begged me not to stop and screamed my name when you came. Seven times." Jesus, he remembered.

  I pulled the make-shift ice pack away from my face and slammed it down on the bench at my side.

  "Do you mind?" I growled, flicking a glance at my sleeping Dad. "This is hardly relevant."

  He ignored my statement completely. "Who the fuck were they, Eva?" he asked again, slowly, emphasising each word.

  "My dumbass cousins, all right."

  "Their names," he demanded, pulling a little pad from his back pocket and pen from inside his jacket. Just like a cop. Who was this guy?

  "Why..." I started and he banged a fist down on the bench, making the frozen pea packet jump a few centimetres off the surface and land with a wet splat.

  "Names," he bit out.

  "Levi, Ryder, Leo, Bailey and Tyler Russell," I rapid-fire spat back at him.

  "Five?" he asked incredulously, flicking his gaze over my bruised face.

  "You should've seen them when I was done," I said cockily.

  "Yeah? Get a few good hits in?"

  "Managed to land a decent blow to Bailey's gonads and Leo's gonna have a headache round 'bout now. I'm saving Levi for later."

  His lips twitched again. "Why a special occasion for Levi?"

  "He's the one who broke my guitar," I muttered, eyes on the floor, frown in place.

  Nick didn't say anything for several seconds. The clock ticked loudly on the wall in the hall.

  "OK, I'll have my boys round 'em up," he announced casually, standing up from his seat and impressing the hell out of me with his height.

  "Why would you do that?" I demanded up at him.

  "You don't pick on a girl," he said simply and Dad grunted in his sleep. Subconsciously disagreeing with him, I think.

  I snorted. "They don't see me as a girl. I'm their annoying little cousin with too big cowgirl boots and a fuck you, cowboy personality," I pointed out from my seat.

  He hesitated, as though he was going to say something smart back at me, but whatever it was, he changed his mind and shook his head. Then bizarrely ran - what looked like a frustrated - hand though his short black hair. Ice-blue eyes came back to mine.

  "Practising at the shop tonight?"

  I sighed. "I'll have to see if Gus has an Acoustic I can borrow."

  I didn't have enough left in the bank to buy a new one, continue to pay for Dad's house to be cleaned up, food put in the fridge and have money for a plane ticket back home. Gen's cheque for our performance on Saturday would help, but that'd have to be split four ways and wouldn't go far. We were picking up a few gigs here and there, and hopefully after Saturday a few more, but money was tight. I'd brought all my Nashville savings with me. Buying a new Martin was not in the budget this year.

  "I'm sure one of the band will have something you could use," he offered helpfully and in what I thought was quite an uncaring fashion. Playing on a hand-me-down Acoustic could not come close to strumming a Martin D28.

  I shrugged in reply. He wasn't a Country musician, he wasn't even a cowboy. I'd made a mistake, what the darn hell would he know?

  "Play Thunder Rolls," he said over his shoulder as he crossed to the front door. Dad's head back up tracking his progress across the lounge with interest again. "I liked that extra verse you threw in at the end last night," he added, just before the door swung shut behind his rather fine tight butt.

  I frowned after him - and his fine butt - how the darn hell did he know what I played last night at Sweet Seduction? He wasn't even there to hear it. He hadn't been there at all since Saturday. There was no way in hell he should have known I'd thrown in Garth's live performance extra verse last night. Much to Kelly's delight. I got the impression Kelly agreed with the ending of the story. Another audience member completely consumed by the story being sung.

  I was still frowning when my Dad softly said, scaring the darn hell out of me, "I like him." I blinked at my father, who was looking at the closed door. Then he added, "Make me a cuppa, will you, girl?"

  So, I made him a cup of Lipton Tea and then phoned Gus to tell him my Martin had met an untimely death and begged to borrow something strum worthy off him. He was suitably outraged at my misfortune and heartbroken at the Martin's early demise. Swearing he'd find me the best replacement loaner he could, even if he had to drive all over Auckland to track one down. Which didn't bode well at all. Obviously his Acoustic was not good enough for me.

  I spent the rest of the day in a funk. My jaw hurt and I wasn't looking forward to making it move to sing this evening, but thinking it was better to keep it mobile than not, I sung to my MP3 player - Garth Brooks of course, it was just that sort of day - as I dealt with thirty-two boxes of wine bottle corks, sixteen plastic bags of dust rags, ninety-three piles of Mills & Boon books for crying out loud, and one-hundred-and-twenty-one rather disturbing, well used Hustler and Playboy magazines from under Dad's bed. I took a long, steaming, hot shower and scrubbed myself raw after that to get ready for tonight's practice.

  It was only as I was serving up Dad his dinner and nightly meds, that I realised Nick had spoken of my practice sessions in front of my father, who I was beginning to think had been faking sleep all along. And who confirmed as much - once I helped him complete his nightly ablutions and climb into a freshly laundered bed - by saying, "Have fun tonight, girl." Then promptly fell - fake - asleep.

  I stared down at the stranger in the bed before me. A man I had known all my life, but who'd never known me. And wondered for the first time ever, if I had made a mistake. I shook the thought off, grabbed my keys, cellphone and wallet and went to wait for the taxi at the curb. I felt bare without my Martin. I kept having to wrap my arms around myself to give them something to do.

  What's a Country singer without her Acoustic? I prayed Gus had found something decent for me to strum. If it didn't feel right it could spoil the entire performance. This close to the big night could mean disaster. Even professionals have little quirks. Mine is my guitar. Sure, I can play on others, everyone can. But my Martin was part of me, an extension of who I was. Without it I felt as though a part of me was literally missing. I kept reaching for something that was no longer there.

  Levi would pay for this. I had no idea what Nick had in mind, he hadn't answered my question regarding his boys picking them up statement. Who knew what the darn hell he meant by that. But I was determined that Levi would pay. Years of tormenting me, bullying me, belittling me, had come to this moment. He'd broken something precious, I needed to strike back. But I'm a cowgirl, not a gangster. The best I could do would be lasso the prick and hog tie his ass in the middle of the street for all to see.

  Now that wasn't a half bad idea. I just needed to buy me some rope.

  I was picturing exactly how to tie my lasso, mentally going through the knot on my fantasy rope in my mind, when a black SUV pulled up in front of me. Black tinted windows, making it impossible to see inside, big extra height wheels with black chrome hubcaps. A Carrie Underwood song blaring out of the speakers inside. OK, interest piqued.

  The window slowly rolled down electronically and a sexy,
deep voice said, "Need a ride, cowgirl?"

  "Stalker," I said on a smile. "You been staring in my windows at night too?"

  "Nah," he said, reaching over and throwing the door wide so I could climb in. "Got a camera feeding me images from inside the room. Concealed. You won't find it." He said all of this in a matter-of-fact voice, as though it was real and par for the course.

  "I'll remember that when I try on my sexy new camisole later this evening," I said climbing up into the cab. "Make sure the lighting is bright enough for you to see through the lace."

  "Would be appreciated," he said, flashing me a wicked grin.

  His eyes flicked over my face. I'd put make-up on, so it wasn't as bad as it could have been, but I got the impression it was still bad enough.

  "Fuck," Adam muttered, moving his gaze back to the road as he pulled the car away from the curb. "Does it hurt?"

  "A little, " I admitted. "But not as much as losing my guitar." For some reason I found it incredibly easy to talk to Adam Stalker Savill. He just seemed to make me relax - and want to smile. "You know I booked a taxi, they'll get pissed off when they turn up and I'm not there," I pointed out. "I'll have to find a different taxi company from now on."

  "Nick's put you on the roster."

  "He's done what now?" I asked, wondering what the roster was and why Nick would do it.

  "One of us will pick you up and drop home each night, until we can confirm your cousins know the rules."

  "The rules?" I muttered the question, trying desperately to get my head around it all.

  "Yeah. You come under ASI protection now, once they know that, she'll all be right."

  I sat there for a moment taking that all in. "Who's ASI?" I asked, one of only several questions currently jostling for attention inside my head.

  "Anscombe Security and Investigations. Nick's firm. I work for him. ASI now protect you, indefinitely. It was actually easier than I thought to convince Nick you should be given indefinite security," he admitted with a shrug of his well defined shoulders.

  Was it now? Just what the darn hell was Nick Anscombe of Anscombe Securities and Investigations playing at?

  "So, everyone in town knows once you guys are protecting me, I'm not to be touched or something?" It sounded very much like a bad movie. This sort of thing didn't happen in real life, did it?

  "Yeah. From what Nick's established, your cousins are well aware of what's hot and what's not on the street."

  I blinked and frowned down at the floor of the SUV. I was gathering from that unusual statement that my cousins were mixed up in more than just bullying and that Nick's firm was a business they could relate to. Just what sort of security and investigations did ASI do?

  Before I could ask any of the other questions still clambering for attention in my head, Adam's phone buzzed in its holder on the dash. He leaned forward and hit a button, a voice I didn't recognise came out over the speakers.

  "Adam?"

  "Yeah, Eric?"

  "Nick says Ben will pick her up."

  "Too late, I've already got her."

  There was a bit of shouting, crashing and banging in the background down the phone at Eric's end.

  "Fuck. Now you've done it, you bastard." Then the phone went dead.

  I glanced over at Adam, he seemed to be amused about that exchange for some reason. I was about to question him on it, when the phone buzzed again announcing another call.

  "Yeah?" Adam said when he hit the button to start the call.

  "Take the phone off speaker." I recognised that voice. It had whispered the most deliciously sexy things in my ear once upon a time. It didn't sound sexy right now though, it sounded kind of hard.

  Adam flicked me a glance, I wasn't sure what the look meant, then picked the phone up and put it to his ear.

  "Yeah, what's up?" A pause. Adam's jaw clenched tight, a muscle began to jump slightly along the edge. "No." Pause. "I was nearby." Pause. "Does it matter how nearby? When the call came out, I was the closest." Pause. "I don't see what's..." Longer pause, more jaw clenching, then, "Fine!" He threw the phone back up on the dash hard, not bothering to place it back in its speaker cradle.

  Adam didn't say anything, just clutched the steering wheel with white knuckles and continued to clench his jaw.

  "Everythin' all right, Stalker?" I asked in Tennessee.

  His face softened, he flicked sexy deep blue eyes at me. I was momentarily intrigued and then realised I was mentally comparing them to ice-blue and although they were sexy, they weren't cowboy perfect. Darn Nick. My eyes were the first to shift away towards the floor.

  "Cowgirl," he said softly. I think he would have reached for me, but I crossed my arms over my chest to make sure he didn't.

  I'd known Nick had ruined any man who followed him for those first few years, but the past three or four hadn't been too bad. I'd stopped dreaming of him at night. I'd stopped closing my eyes, whilst in their arms, and seeing his face, his hair, his smile, his darn sexy and perfect ice-blue eyes.

  And now he was back. Inside my head. Inside my broken heart. Making any other man lost to me. Again.

  And he had a fiancée - who I darn well liked.

  I let a frustrated breath out and stared at the street outside.

  Adam didn't say another word until we pulled up out the front of Sweet Seduction. "You might have an audience tonight," he proclaimed out of nowhere, as I reached for the door handle.

  "Really?" I asked, dipping my chin and looking at him from the top of my eyes.

  "Yeah," he said through a smile. "Several of the guys are off tonight, mentioned they might swing by and catch your practice session. Been a bit hard to see everything on the screen and we're not exactly wired for stereo sound. Better in person."

  I blinked. Then frowned. "What?" I said, shaking my head slightly as I tried to puzzle through his words.

  "Tennessee! I got the best god-damn guitar in town!" Gus announced from over my shoulder, I swung away from Adam and found Gus right inside the open door, battered guitar case in hand. "Now she ain't your Martin D28, but this Breedlove has strummed some sweet music, Eva. She'll see you right."

  I forgot all about stereo sound wiring and jumped down from the cab of the car, reaching out already for the Breedlove with enthusiasm.

  "You got a Breedlove? D25?" I said with much hope.

  "Atlas Series, D25. If the Martin D28 didn't exist, this baby would be Queen of the Dreadnoughts for sure."

  "You are utterly fantastic, Gus!" I said, swinging an arm around his shoulders and landing a slobbering kiss against his cheek. "How long we got it for?"

  "Two weeks," he said happily and my heart sunk. "Long enough for you to find a replacement. I know some places that have Martin as standard stock, but if not, two weeks will be enough for them to order in on your behalf."

  "OK," I said, trying to keep the cheer in my voice. "That should be fine."

  Adam appeared at my side, his eyes on me. I was picking he'd either heard the change in my tone, or seen the shift in expression on my face. I decided I'd better move things along before he said something to embarrass me, or worse still, make me cry. Cowgirls don't cry.

  "Well, we better go see if it fits, cowboy," I announced, giving Gus a shoulder squeeze. He smiled happily and headed towards the front door of the shop.

  "Eva," Adam said, stopping me in my tracks. I couldn't ignore him, it would be rude. I turned slowly though to look him in his deep blue - not ice-blue perfect - eyes. "I gotta go do something for Nick, but I'll try to get back here before the end of your session. I'd love to catch up with you, OK?" he said the OK not quite as a question, but more of a statement. He wanted to catch up with me, end of story. So cowboy.

  "OK," I said, offering a genuine smile. His back, was beaming. He took a step towards me and the front door opened, Spike's head poking out.

  "You're late, Eva. Get a move on, we got a crowd to please."

  Adam sighed at my side - close - I nodded to Spike and took a s
tep in his direction - placing space between me and my stalker - before turning to look at Adam over my shoulder.

  "Catch ya later then, Stalker."

  "Hunter," he corrected with a wicked grin.

  I shook my head and pushed through the doors into Sweet Seduction and the possibility of losing myself to a couple of hours of soaring. It was packed, all of the Sweet Seduction gang, plus several black clad - now I was guessing - ASI men spread around the room on sofas and chairs. Wayne and Edward were sitting with Gen, her brother Jason and a guy I didn't know, but who had to be related to Nick. They just looked too similar, although this one wore a suit that I could not picture my cowboy in.

  And last, but never, ever, least, Nick himself. His ice-blue perfect cowboy eyes on me.

  I paused, just inside the door, deer-in-headlights moment, then looked at the ground and frowned. Fortifying myself, I shook my head and set off to soar.

  Chapter 5

  The Man Was Crazy And Unstable And Fucked In The Head

  I resolutely refused to let Nick's presence ruffle me. I was a professional and the show must go on. So, it was only a practice, but now more than ever, I needed the practice. What with a strange, albeit rather fine looking, acoustic guitar in my hands.

  "You gonna be all right to sing, Tennessee?" Gonzo asked, eyeing my bruised jaw.

  I automatically reached up a hand and gently rubbed my aching jaw smooth. Then felt self-conscious when I noticed all eyes in the band on me, so removed my hand and started playing with the pegheads on my new best friend.

  "I'm fine, cookie," I said with what I hoped was convincing cheer. "Been keeping it supple all day," I pointed out.

  "We can take it easy, if you need to, Eva," Spike announced from behind his drum kit, surprising me with the care lacing each word.

  "I'm fine," I started, but Gus interrupted.

  "We'll do six songs, that should be enough for you to get a handle on the Breedlove. Tomorrow night we'll increase the number, until we manage the full set by Friday."

  "We have three nights, including tonight, before the show. I'm fine," I repeated, emphasising the words. "We do the full set each night, as planned, from here on in."

 

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