Seduced by His Song

by Abby Gordon

  “So do I,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around her waist. “Still.”

  What puzzled her was that she still did. What were they waiting for? Or were they more worried about any publicity if they said anything? It was a miracle that the tabloids hadn’t dug up anything. Then again, she reminded herself, they had been focused on Sean’s side of things and none of her friends would talk to them. Not that she’d told anyone, so they could tell anyone. Making her way to the closet, she opened it and pulled out bags and boxes from the high-end exclusive stores, placing them carefully on the bed.

  That had to be it, she decided. They were more worried about exposing their dealings, and what she might say if they pushed her. They’d probably known where she was the entire time, she mused, settling on the bed. Just biding their time. Waiting.

  Well, she thought, hearing Sean’s voice outside the door, things might have changed a bit. And wasn’t that something else to worry about?

  Reaching into the first bag, she felt silk and pulled out a gorgeous sundress as Sean entered the room.

  “Oh, how beautiful,” she breathed.

  “Well, thank you,” he replied, giving her a small bow as he closed the door behind him.

  Climbing off the bed, she pulled the dress on and spun around.

  “I love it,” she gushed, eagerly reaching for the bag. “Oh, and sandals to go with it.”

  Comprehension hit and she glanced down at the pattern.

  “Oh, my God. This is from her line. I’m wearing a Charlotte Jacobs original. I don’t believe it.”

  Setting the tray on the desk, Sean poured the tea.

  “I’ll have to tell her your reaction. She’ll love it.”

  “I love it,” Jessica whispered. “I can’t believe it.”

  She barely noticed the tea he put on the table on her side of the bed. She was too focused on rummaging through the rest of the bags and boxes, pulling everything out and piling them up to admire them.

  “This is some of her line that was just in the Paris and London shows,” she squealed, hugging him swiftly before she went back to stare at the dresses, bikinis, shoes, and hats. She dug into a pale pink bag. “And her entire skin care line.” Bottles and tubes were pulled out, examined, and carefully returned to the bag. Jessica reached for the other pink bag and gasped. “Oh, my God. I heard she was coming out with a hair line, but…”

  Sean grinned as she stared at the bottles in her hand.

  “I think it’s due out in January. That must be from an early shipment.”

  It was a wonderful thing to see your woman as happy out of bed as you made her in bed, Sean decided. They’d just taken off from Teterboro and were four hours from the island. Reclining in the desk chair, he enjoyed watching her pull on a few things, not as much as he would have liked, and she wisely stayed on the other side of the cabin. She tried on one bikini and gasped when she realized it covered her nipples, pussy folds, and not much else.

  “Good lord,” she muttered. “I don’t remember seeing this on the runways.”

  “I don’t think it was,” he agreed. “But that will be for my eyes only, right? I’d hate to have to stick red-hot pokers in the eyes of every man around if you wore that besides right near the bungalow.”

  A bit startled at the threatened violence, Jessica stared at him, before slowly smiling. “Depends on how you intend to reward me for only wearing it around you.”

  He gave her a seductive smile and could almost see her melt in front of him. “I think I can come up with something mutually satisfying, baby.”

  “I just bet you can,” she agreed.

  Sean grinned to himself as she removed the bikini, her hands a bit shaky. Pulling on the first violet silk patterned dress, she paused in her explorations to sip some tea. Their gazes met and Sean wondered if he’d really be able to make it to the island without taking her again. Four hours. He hadn’t gone more than the thirty-minute ride to the airport and her nap without tucking her under him and having her. He figured it would be a close call if he made it. Then again, he knew she probably needed a bit of rest from his constant attention.

  Jessica put the clothes back in the bags, setting them at the end of the bed. She reached for a bag and suddenly sat down. He was up and moving in a heartbeat.

  “What is it?”

  “I think I better eat something,” she told him, voice shaky.

  Worried, kicking himself for not having her do that much sooner, Sean carried her around the bed. She didn’t protest but curled into him.

  “Sorry to be such a bother.”

  “I like being the big he-man, remember?” he told her, settling her down and pulling the pillows behind her for support. He sat down next to her. “I like taking care of you, Jessica. That’s not a bother.”

  The soft expression in her eyes gave him hope for his plan, and the way her hand snaked around his neck, pulling him closer for a kiss, was even better. He closed his eyes, treasuring it.

  “You’re tempting me, baby,” he murmured.

  “I’m tempting me too,” she admitted.

  “Let’s get some food in you so you have energy then,” he decided, getting up and going to the desk. He picked up the entire tray and brought it to her. “Sasha got several types of sandwiches.”

  “Roast beef?” she wondered, studying them while he went around to get her tea.

  “I think so. No meat pastries though.”

  Obviously remembering how she had teased him, she blushed. He chuckled, setting the mug on the table. Brushing her cheek, he pressed a warm kiss to her lips.

  “I damn near ordered everyone out of the room so I could have you right then and there.”

  Finding a chicken salad, she gave him a droll look. “There’s CCTV in the private room. Security would have loved it. They might have even let us finish before they called the constables.”

  “How very considerate they are,” he remarked, feeling better as she swiftly ate the first half and picked up a second. “I guess that wouldn’t have been the best idea I’ve ever had then. Not my worst, though.”

  “What was that?” she wondered around the corner before she bit into it.

  “Oh, wow,” Sean murmured, deciding to have a roast beef. “So many to choose from.”

  “One not too embarrassing,” she suggested.

  “Ah, well, let’s see.” He took a few bites. “Getting locked out of my hotel room during my first tour would be up there. I was fully dressed. Thank God,” he laughed. “But everyone else had already left for the venue. My cell phone, guitar, and everything else were in the room. I tracked down housekeeping to let me back in. Poor woman had no idea who I was and really didn’t want to do it, but I promised her tickets for her two sons.”

  “Really? That’s sweet,” she told him. “That’s not a mistake or anything.”

  “Tony came back when he realized no one had made sure I was on the bus. He found me, and from then on, he, Harry or Adam is with me as time gets near for leaving anywhere. It’s as if they think I’ll wander off and get lost.”

  “Have you done that?”

  He sent her a disgruntled look that she took as funny. The peal of laughter that rang from her meant nearly as much as her shouting his name when she came.

  “I got lost my first time in London,” she told him. “So, give. Where were you?”

  “At an arena in New York City. Last January.”

  “They keep an eye on you and you still managed to wander off?” She giggled.

  “Yes. Served them right actually. Adam was supposed to be with me and I’m not sure where he went. Probably to take a piss.” Sean shrugged and picked up the other half of the sandwich. “I wanted to find the lighting director.”

  “Where were you when they found you?”

  “I honestly have no clue,” Sean told her. “I’m surprised you didn’t hear about it. The concert started late and I told everyone why. That I had got lost backstage and Tony was on the verge of calling the police
to get more people to find me.”

  Jessica fell back against the pillows as she laughed.

  “Oh, I love it.”

  “It’s not that funny,” he told her, although if it made her laugh after the past week, he didn’t care.

  “Yes, it is. Although I’m sure Tony would give me an entirely different perspective on everything.”

  “That’s his job. Well, okay, his job is to smooth over my goofs and when I get myself in trouble, along with handling publicity for my music and acting, but still.”

  “He’s a good friend,” she observed.

  “He is,” he confirmed. “And was majorly pissed I hadn’t returned any of his calls this past week.”

  “Why didn’t he call Charlotte about it?”

  “Good question,” he replied. “I hadn’t thought of that. They all know Saul won’t disturb me for anyone but her. Or Maisie, of course.”

  “Of course,” Jessica murmured.

  He saw the slight frown and wondered if that was possibly jealousy of his ex-wife and their closeness.

  “Charlotte is probably my best friend,” he told her. “That’s it. She’s Maisie’s mother and she’ll always be part of my life.”

  “Of course, she is,” Jessica said quickly, emphatically. A wistful expression appeared in her eyes. “I think I’m a bit jealous.”

  “Of Charlotte?”

  “Of everyone you’re close to,” she whispered. “I don’t really have anyone in my life like that. Not for more than five years at least.”

  Ah, Sean realized and relaxed a little, before the last words sunk in. He knew little about her beyond her work at the hotel.

  “What happened five years ago? What about your family? Friends? Where in England are you from?”

  Delaying her answer, she reached for her mug and sipped. He waited patiently, silently.

  “My parents were killed in a plane crash when I was twelve,” Jessica finally spoke. “My mother was French and her parents took me to live with them. Northern Yorkshire is a world apart from Provence.”

  “It is,” he agreed quietly. He could see there were vast gaping holes in what she was telling him. That she was hiding something else. Something very important. But he wouldn’t push her. He had to earn her trust back for that.

  “Not that I was there much besides school holidays,” she said softly. “Although they had an apartment in Paris near the school, so I had to spend the weekends with them.”

  “Had to?” Sean repeated.

  She nodded, took another sip of tea. “I was to go with them to different events and things. To learn to behave properly.”

  Sean watched her expressions. There seemed to be a distance in her voice, a coolness in her eyes.

  “And five years ago?”

  “Five years ago, my uncle’s business had a bit of a rough patch,” she continued, her jaw working around the words. “He found someone willing to invest in the company, keep it from going under.”

  She took another sip, then drained the mug. Sean felt a ball of ice form in his stomach, certain he wasn’t going to like her next words.

  “He would invest generously, more than enough keep the company afloat, if I married him.”

  “Fuck,” growled Sean, his hands clenching.

  “Not quite the words I used, but it sums up my answer,” she agreed. “And then he offered to invest so they could get the increase the vineyard.”

  “Shit,” he muttered, getting up and pacing around the room.

  “When I refused, my grandparents kicked me out and said I couldn’t come back until I agreed. A school friend loaned me the money to get to London. Since I was eighteen, I was able to access some of the money my parents had left me. It was enough to let me get the flat you found me in. Provided, of course, that I worked my arse off.”

  “Life insurance,” he surmised, turning over what she’d said.

  He heard her hum and glancing over his shoulder, smiled when he saw her unwrapping another sandwich.

  “You haven’t heard from them since?”

  “Not a word,” she mumbled around the mouthful.

  “Did your uncle’s business fail or did he find another investor?”

  She shrugged and he took that to mean she didn’t know.

  “This past week, they certainly knew what you were doing and where you were,” he mused. “But they didn’t contact you? Whether to support or condemn?”

  Swallowing, she shrugged again. “I haven’t really answered my cell the past few days. Steve and Hank have a special ringtone Hank programmed when I got it, but otherwise, I have no idea. I don’t think they would know the number anyway.” She frowned and glanced about the room. “I don’t even know where my bag is.”

  “In the storage compartment near the door,” he replied, looking out the small window.

  “Are you worried they’ll do something now?” she wondered. “Now that you’ve so publicly taken me from my flat?”

  Now he could hear the apprehension in her voice, the concern that relatives who had kicked her out would cause trouble between them. Not fucking likely. He went to her, moved the tray from her lap, setting it beyond her, and held her hands in his.

  “Baby, I don’t give a fuck what they do now. They kicked you out because you wouldn’t marry some grubby moneybags, and they didn’t do a damn thing for you this past week. They can’t say or do anything to change my opinion of you or how much I want you.” The worry didn’t leave her eyes. His hands cradled her face. “Baby, you’re with me now. I’ll take care of you. Understand that?”

  Guilt pricked at her as he reassured her. Her conscience told her to do more than just a summary, but the words stuck in her throat. The frightened part of her told her that the past week might just make her family decide to completely wash their hands of her. As Sean wrapped his arms around her and pulled her onto his lap, she knew they hadn’t. How they would react to Sean’s actions today, she had no idea. She had a feeling that he would toss her out of his life when they finally acted, so she was going to treasure every moment.

  His hands glided up her back and tangled in her hair the way he loved to. As his mouth came down on hers, she forgot that they’d agreed to wait until they got to the island. All she wanted was more of him.

  Chapter Eight

  “Dammit,” he muttered, looking out the window. “It’s later than I thought.”

  Jessica glanced at him confused, then out to see the smudge growing larger in the gradual darkness.

  “What’s the problem?”

  “I wanted to get back in time so I could show you the sunset.”

  Smiling, she reached across the space between their chairs. “We’ll have to see a sunrise then.”

  “Wrong side of the island,” he told her. “My family’s section is on the west.”

  “Your family’s section?” she repeated.

  “Back around the War for Independence, five families—mine, the Hancocks, Franklins, Jays, Morrises—invested in and helped the colonial government of the Bahamas. Some illegalities the royal governor had gotten himself into.” He winked. “In return, and probably when George III was in a state of madness, he convinced the king to sign over an island to the families.”

  “Si…sign over an island?” Eyes wide she stared at him. “You’re serious.”

  “’Fraid so,” he grinned at her reaction. “It’s still a part of the Bahamas though, but no one else really knows about it.”

  “Good heavens,” she breathed, leaning back and staring at him.

  Across the aisle, Sam chuckled. He and the two bodyguards on the trip had also buckled in a few minutes ago.

  “It’s on maps, but not really.”

  Sean enjoyed watching her head swivel from Sam to him and back out the window. They were circling to get the proper tail wind for landing. The runway was lit up and in the distance, where a few dim lights marked where family bungalows sat.

  “More than two hundred years…the families had to have e
xpanded quite a bit,” she observed.

  “Not everyone in the families know about it,” he admitted as they banked. “Mostly just those along the senior lines. The Morris line ignored theirs for a few decades after the Great Depression. Knowledge of it died out, and it was only when Grant Franklin told Zach about it that they knew.”

  “That’s sad,” she murmured, eyes straining to see as much as she could. “There aren’t that many lights.”

  “There probably were last week. During Thanksgiving,” he explained when she gave a puzzled glance. “Kids weren’t in school.” She nodded and went back to looking.

  “Someone’s moving fairly quickly,” she observed. “Two someones.”

  He looked out and saw the twin beams moving toward the end of the runway.

  “That would be Saul and probably his oldest son, Samuel. Getting the golf cart from my bungalow in the Livingston section.”

  “The Livingston section,” murmured Jessica, obviously still trying to wrap her mind around that one. “I’m able to make out some rather large shadows down there. Just how big is this ‘bungalow’?”

  Sean chuckled. “My personal one is actually a bit smaller than those. And more recent. It’s right on the beach, above the high tide mark. A couple bedrooms, my studio connected by a breezeway, small living room and kitchen.”

  “Uh-huh,” she grunted, pressing her nose to the tempered glass as if she could see it.

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “Considering your opinion of my flat, I’ll reserve judgment.”

  Sam and the bodyguards grinned. “She’s quick, boss.”

  “That she is,” agreed Sean.

  That interchange had Jessica leaving her study of the island. That and the plane’s nose decreased indicating they were starting their descent.

  “Where do you stay on the island?” she wondered.

  Hearing the edge in her voice, Sean watched as her fingers gripped the armrests until her knuckles were white.

  “We either stay on the main island or Miami,” Sam told her. “Mostly Miami if Sean will be on the island a while.” He winked at her. “More bars and diversions there.”