A Little Night Music (22 page)

But she didn’t need it in print for the world to see.

“What are you going to do about it?” Sam asked her. “What kind of spin can you put on it?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “They wanted my autograph, Sam.”

He pulled out a chair and dropped into it. “Great. So now you’re a celebrity, too. Maybe you can sign some photos and sell them on eBay.”

She winced at his sarcasm. “I’m sorry.”

“Too late for that now. I thought the two of you were going to be discreet.”

She glared at him. It was bad enough that she was beating herself up. She didn’t need him to help. “I didn’t arrange for the paparazzi to be there, you know. The manager at Lorelei said he’d snuck in using another name. They’re normally really good at protecting their customer’s privacy.” She sounded defensive, and she didn’t care.

“I want you to fix this.”

“I will,” Hannah promised.

“I don’t want to see any more articles with the words “new low” and “Nate Fox” together.”

“You won’t.”

With a last hard look, Sam left the room.

Hannah dropped her head into her hands. She’d really screwed up this time. She’d jeopardized Nate’s career, and probably jettisoned her own as well. Her work with Jenna Glenn, with Double Zero, with Simone DiPaolo, would be forgotten, eclipsed by her sensational failure here, as well as her sensational stupidity of getting involved with a client. Even if her actual publicity work for Nate was fantastic, from the outside it would look as if she’d been thinking with her panties, not her professionalism.

Fact was, she
had
been thinking with her panties, from the moment she’d gotten into the elevator with Nate.

And now it had turned around and bitch-slapped her.

*

Nate’s fingers tightened. The paper crumpled in his fist. “I’m sorry, Hannah,” he said quietly.

They sat on the empty tour bus. Nate had just finished a sound check. She hadn’t wanted him to see the article until after the night’s concert, but one of the local stage crew had shown it to him.

“I’m sorry, too,” Hannah said. “I should have known better.” She couldn’t bear to look at him. Couldn’t bear to see the condemnation in his eyes. She was supposed to put him back on the top, not drag him down even further.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded. “Look at me, Hannah.”

She dared a glance up at him. The anger in his gaze seared her. Blinking back the hot burn of tears, she shook her head. “I shouldn’t have allowed myself to get involved with you. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“What was it supposed to be like?” He dropped to his knees in front of her. The hands that gripped her thighs sent heat straight to her core.

“I know you’re angry—”

“Not with you, love,” he said softly. “With the bastard that took the picture, and the paper who bought it, and the person who wrote that shitty article. But not with you.”

“You should be,” Hannah said. “I should have known to keep it professional between us.”

“Fuck that,” he told her. “I wouldn’t change a thing about the past few weeks.” He smoothed back a lock of her hair, tucking it behind one ear. His fingers lingered on her cheek. “I wouldn’t change a thing about us.”

“I’m not what you need,” she whispered. Against her better judgment, she leaned into his caress, needing to feel his touch.

His hand cupped the back of her neck, urging her forward. “You’re exactly what I need.”

The kiss was gentle and sweet. It did what nothing else could have done, and swept her out of herself, away from the misery. There was only Nate, and the joy of his mouth on hers. His scent, earthy and male, wrapped around her, drugging her. When he nudged her thighs apart, she acquiesced with a low moan. Gripping his tight, denim-covered ass, she pulled him close, rocking against the hard length of his cock. The buzz of arousal began low in her stomach, increasing with each flex of his hips. She ached for him.

A sharp banging snapped her upright, pressing her back against the leather chair and away from the temptation of his body.

“Nate, we need you backstage,” Sam’s voice came from just outside the bus. His fist against the door punctuated his summons.

“Yeah, okay,” Nate called out. “I’m sorry,” he murmured to Hannah. He rested his forehead against hers, the midnight blue of his eyes dark with arousal. He took one last kiss, a sinful dip of his tongue into her mouth.

“We haven’t finished this conversation,” he promised. A quick adjustment of his cock in his pants, a last piercing look, and he was gone.

And Hannah was alone.

So very alone.

*

The heavy bass beat thrummed up through the floor, vibrating through her body. The concert was in full swing. Still in the bus, safe in the VIP parking area, Hannah closed her eyes. Nate would be seducing the crowd now, his voice filling the amphitheater. She could hear him, but the sound was distorted by distance. The roar of the crowd was hungry, predatory. She could imagine them eating him alive, taking everything that he gave, and endlessly demanding more.

And there would be nothing left for her.

She scrolled through the numbers in her phone, selected Gina’s, and hit dial. If she’d ever needed her best friend, it was now.

The phone rang and rang. Rang again. Hannah crossed her fingers. “Please pick up,” she murmured. “Please, please.”

“This had better be good!” Gina’s voice was breathless. “I have a totally hot underwear model coming to my door in less than five minutes.”

Hannah closed her eyes. The phone was in danger of snapping in her grip. “I’ll try to talk fast.”

“So how’s the tour?” Gina asked. “How’re the concerts? How’s the
sex?
”

“Have you seen the
Weekly Word
?”

“You know I don’t buy those,” Gina said, laughing. “I just read them in line at the supermarket.”

“There’s a picture of me and Nate in it.”

There was silence for a long beat. “You don’t sound too happy about that.”

She hadn’t meant for the sob to come out. Once it did, the tears overwhelmed her, burning down her cheeks.

“Don’t go away,” Gina said. “I’ll call you right back.”

There wasn’t a single box of tissues on the bus. Hannah finally settled on a roll of toilet paper, blowing her nose and trying to fight the tears. They wouldn’t stop. Her chest was still hitching when the phone rang.

“I got rid of Sven. Talk to me,” Gina instructed.

“It’s awful,” Hannah said. She related the episode with the paparazzo in Lorelei. The fans in line at the CD signing.  “I’d almost forgotten about it. It was over a week ago.”

“How bad can the picture be? You’re gorgeous.”

“My mouth is wide open, and Nate is sticking a fork in it. I look totally awful. That’s not the worse part.” As quickly as she could, trying to maintain what little composure she had left, Hannah read her the article.

“That’s harsh,” Gina said softly. “But, sweetie, if you’re going to date a rock star, you’re going to have to toughen up. You can’t let those rags get to you. You know the kind of spin they give stories just to sell the papers.”

“I know,” Hannah said. “Of all people, of course I know. But Gina, how am I going to do my job when just by being with him, I’m sabotaging his career?”

“I think you’re putting more weight on this than it deserves,” Gina said.

“No, I’m not. His career is at a vulnerable point right now, and this does nothing to help it. I can’t be objective about what he has to do to get back on top if I have such an emotional response to every little thing that’s printed. I can’t do my job
and
be Nate’s girlfriend.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone, and Hannah rushed to fill it.

“It was only supposed to be one night. Just one night to fulfill a stupid vow I’d made to myself. I can’t believe how stupid I was to sleep with a client. And then I kept sleeping with him. And going out in public with him. On dates. What was I thinking? I am such an idiot.”

“Now you’re being ridiculous,” Gina said. “You’re not an idiot. There was no way you could have stepped away from a relationship with him after that first night. I saw the two of you together the next day, remember? There was no way Nate was going to let you go.”

“I shouldn’t have taken the job,” Hannah said. She barely heard what Gina was telling her, trapped in her own misery and guilt. “I can’t do the job properly if I’m this close to him.”

“Well, you can’t quit,” Gina told her. “You signed a contract with them. You’re in this for the long haul, so you might as well get used to it. Don’t think negatively—think proactively. How do you turn this around?”

She knew Gina had just manipulated her into using the problem-solving-obsessed part of her brain, and she loved her for it.

“It’s not too late to get this under control,” Hannah said. She sat up straighter in the chair. “If they want to see him with models and stars, then that’s what he needs to do. It’s all about the image. See and be seen, and who you’re seen with. I’m just his publicist. I don’t have any star quality, but if Nate’s seen with someone totally glamorous and popular, it will do wonders for his ratings. I promised to get him back on top.”

“Are you listening to yourself?” Gina asked. “Girl, there is no way Nate is going to want to go out with some other woman when he has you.”

“Of course he will,” Hannah said. She was getting excited now, the rest of her emotions shutting down. She pushed them away, far away. If she could keep focused only on Nate the client, and not Nate the lover, she could do this. “He wants to be successful. He wants the positive publicity that will put him back on top.”

The picture lying face up on the leather next to her gave her every reason to make this decision. “I’m going to do my job and stop letting my personal life interfere. We’ll all be much happier.” Hannah blew out a long breath. “Thanks, Gina. For listening.”

Before Gina could interrupt, could try to change her mind, Hannah hung up.

Things would be okay.

Even if she had to lose Nate.

Even if she had to lose the man she loved.

Chapter Thirteen

The bus rumbled down the highway. The engines were muted, their sound partially dampened by the light soundproofing on the walls of the small bedroom he and Hannah shared. The soundproofing needed to be redone, though. Every so often, he could hear the sounds of the band up front laughing at something on the DVD player. The occasional squeal of the groupie that Kenny had picked up after the concert.

And Nate knew that if he could hear them, then they would be able to hear him.

He knew that the lack of privacy bothered Hannah, inhibiting her responses to his advances. They’d kept their nights on the bus chaste, sleeping curled in each other’s arms. Frustrated, but together.

But he wanted her now. Wanted—no, needed—to take the sadness from her eyes, to ease the small line of tension between her brows. She was upset about the article in the tabloid. It wasn’t the first time he’d been smeared across its pages. It wouldn’t be the last. But to Hannah, it had to be embarrassing as hell.

She just wasn’t used to being the one in the spotlight.

“Hey,” he said softly, running one hand up her arm.

She dragged her attention away from the laptop. “I’m almost finished sending the new concert pictures to the FoxFanatics webmaster,” she said.

“You are finished,” he said, catching her hands and drawing them to his lips. He pressed a kiss into one palm, and then the other. The sudden catch of her breath, the way her nipples puckered against the silk of her camisole, made him smile.

He flicked his tongue against the fine skin of her wrist, inhaling her exotic scent. The fluttering of her pulse tickled against his lips. His balls tightened behind the fly of his jeans, his cock hardening. She intoxicated him. 

“I guess I am,” Hannah agreed. Her voice was breathy, and he’d already learned that meant she was turned on.

“Good,” Nate said. He licked a path up her arm, nuzzling the inside of her elbow.

Hannah’s tongue dampened her lips. Unable to resist the temptation, Nate leaned forward, capturing her mouth with his. She was heat and spice, rich as sin, and he reveled in her taste. He wound one hand in her hair, dragging her head back to deepen the kiss. His tongue thrust, anticipating the movements his body intended to make.

Hannah dragged her mouth from his. “No,” she said.

He grazed the delicate skin of her throat with his teeth. He felt like he would come out of his skin if he didn’t have her.

“No,” Hannah said, a little more forcefully. Her hands pushed against his bare chest, and continued pushing until he was lying flat on the mattress.

One lock of hair draped over her shoulder, curling around the curve of her breast. It was fire against the cream-colored silk. He found the sight unbelievably erotic.

His cock ached, straining against the denim, and he threw one arm over his eyes. A deep groan left his lips. If she were going to deny him, then he couldn’t keep staring at her. He just didn’t think he had that much control.

The bed bounced a little, and he heard a rustle from the corner where a small bureau held their clothes. Nate concentrated on math equations. Anything to get his raging libido under control.

The mattress sank again when she returned. Nate peeked out from under his arm in time to feel her throw a thigh over his hips. She straddled him, her heat burning through his clothes. His cock hardened further, and with a naughty pout of her kissable lips, Hannah rubbed lightly against him.

Nate’s hands caught her waist, intending to flip her over. Hannah shook her head, dangling a pair of cuffs from her fingers. The black leather studded with silver metal and rings was part of what he wore on stage each night. His interest piqued, Nate waited for her next move.

With excruciating slowness, she buckled them around his wrists.

“Have I ever told you just how sexy I find these?” she asked. Her tongue traced the line of skin just above one of the cuffs. Her teeth closed over the flesh beneath his thumb, sending sharp pleasure through him.