BorntobeWild (9 page)

This time it worked. Good sex and the relaxation technique
left her drifting. Even his voice, breaking into her mood, didn’t change or
phase it.

“Beautiful.”

Opening her eyes, she saw him at the bottom of the bed,
watching her. “Sorry.”

“Were you doing yoga?”

“Kind of.” She rolled her shoulders. “Yes. It’s good.”

“It’s very good. I use it myself sometimes. After a gig. I
need to dress. I’ll use the other bedroom so relax, shower and pick something
for us to eat. Nothing messy.” He grinned. “I’m going black and white.” He
flipped his hair. “I dyed it this afternoon, decided that I could probably pass
better in New York if I didn’t have that fucking purple hair and went back to
my natural color. I rethought my costume. My dresser’s arrived, so could you
find something for him to eat too?”

“What does he eat?”

“Like me, anything. No known allergies. Best to keep away
from the spicy stuff though. We have to do a news conference tonight. Don’t
want to send waves of garlic over the assembled press. Though I don’t know why
I bother because they don’t.” He grinned, leaned forward and tapped the side of
her butt. “If you don’t get up and hide your gorgeous body we’re not going
anywhere for a long time and I’ll end up wearing jeans onstage.”

“When do we have to leave?”

“Do you want to see the opening band?”

She was ashamed to realize she didn’t know who it was. She
shook her head. “Not particularly.”

“We can leave together if you like. Do you want us to go
public?”

Fuck, she hadn’t considered that. She sat up, leaning back
on her elbows. He watched her, interest making his mouth curve and his eyes
sparkle. “Anyone you’re with is public, aren’t they?”

“Yes, but it’s not too bad. We’d make the gossip blogs but
not the front pages or the main news. If they show pictures it’ll be in
passing. So do you want to take that risk?”

She couldn’t believe he’d asked her. “Are you kidding? I’m a
New York store owner and we’re all fighting to turn a profit these days. I’d
ask you to wear my necklace onstage but it’s a bit small.”

He held up his hand. “My turn to say ‘are you kidding’?
Yeah, sure I am. It’s perfect. It’ll go with the look. I usually arrive at the
venue in ordinary clothes and change there. This place is too good and far too
comfortable to miss the chance of getting ready here instead of some sleazy
changing room.”

She smiled. He was wearing her product onstage before
thousands of people and they were filming it for a video release. She might not
get a name check but her designs were distinctive. Of course, it meant
imitators would spring forth but that might do her good too. She was already on
to the next collection, so she’d limit the danger by making it very different than
the last one. That would work so well.

She’d call Maddy and Janey and let them know. Design a
collection for the cheaper range, based on the trash theme, because she’d have
new customers for sure.

While she pondered the possibilities, she realized what Riku
was doing for her but when she opened her mouth to thank him he shook his head.
“I like the stuff, that’s all. I’m not wearing it because you’re my girlfriend.
It’s because I love your jewelry and it goes perfectly with one of my outfits.
Everywhere we visit, the guys go to the record store and I trawl the vintage
outlets, getting clothes and jewelry. My music is in my head and on my MP3
players. I don’t need vinyl like Zazz does.” He grinned. “Don’t get carried
away though. Music always comes first and always will.”

“I guessed.” Because it had for her. Once.

She slid off the bed and turned away but paused and glanced
back, Betty Grable style, hands on hips, gazing over her shoulder in a sexy,
come-hither way. Before he reached her she laughed, kicked up her heels and
raced to the door at the end of the room that she hoped led to a bathroom, not
another clothes closet.

She was in luck. If she hadn’t had the drop on him he’d have
caught up with her for sure. She heard his frustrated growl and laughed. “I’ll
see you later, big boy. Go get dressed.”

Wowser, this room was another jaw-dropper. A large, square
caramel-and-cream marbled surround framed a tub set against one window, the
double faucet in the center. No gold dolphins, nothing overelaborate but an
invitation to linger. She wondered if the marble was heated or if the water did
the job. She checked the control panel set into one wall.

Holy hell, it was. She’d only imagined that to try to think
of something this room didn’t have. It had a wooden floor, that tub with a
view, because naturally this had the big windows too and behind the tub, a
shower. It had its own glass enclosure. A bunch of towels hung from a heated
towel rail just outside.

She didn’t need any further invitation but stepped in,
groaning with pleasure when hot water instantly cascaded over her. Her shower
trickled compared to his, although she’d always considered it great before.
This one gave her a tropical rainstorm all of her own, without the wind or the
danger. Shamelessly she stole his shampoo and conditioner and then his shower
gel. They were all unperfumed, smelling only of what they were, soapy and
clean. Maybe that itself was a perfume but when she finished all she smelled of
was clean.

She stepped out the shower and dried herself while watching
the city fade into night, the lights come on in the buildings opposite. New
York sparkled and glittered by night, an event she loved about this place. The
busyness, the sense of something always going on, constant distractions if she
wanted them, all worked for her. Although this place was an oasis in the middle
of all that. Beautiful but anything less like a Bedouin tent was hard to
imagine.

She’d brought a basic makeup kit with her but left it
downstairs, so all she had to do was brush her wet hair, apply some smoother
and get dressed.

How would she manage if she lived this way? Would she get
used to this luxury or learn to take it for granted? Just as well she’d never
have the chance to find out. She might as well enjoy it while she was here
though.

By the time she’d applied blusher, shadow and eyeliner,
leaving her lipstick until after she’d eaten, she had oriented herself in this
place. Found the areas she needed. It had taken her longest to discover the microwave,
tucked behind a door near the refrigerator but it was a modern, high-tech thing,
totally unlike her own basic model. She’d never bothered to install all but the
bare necessities in her little apartment but she’d never missed anything
fancier until now. This apartment would ruin her for plain living. She’d have
to get somewhere better. In any case it was time she had somewhere she could
bring clients, if she was to attract more people like the man who visited the
store today. Her business was moving on and so should she.

She went into the great room and called out, her voice
echoing around the huge space. “Come and eat!”

Although she didn’t stagger back when she saw him it was a
close-run thing. Riku wore a suit that seemed to be fashioned from newspapers.
The print on it was so crisp she could read the articles. He raised a brow. “Like
it?”

“It’s a bit extreme.”

He laughed. “It’s stage wear. Fucking uncomfortable too.” He
gestured to the tall man following him, who took no notice of her but concentrated
on watching the way Riku moved. The fabric seemed stiff, like paper. “I can
still work and that’s what matters.”

He nodded at the other man. “This is Ray and I don’t know
what I’d do without him. He’s a fucking genius.”

She shook Ray’s hand. Tall, bald, powerful, as unlike a
typical dresser as she could imagine in his comfortable jeans and loose
T-shirt. The short sleeves of the shirt exposed roped muscles. He had a
tattooed sleeve on one arm and a series of ink designs on the other. That gave
him away because they were carefully chosen and positioned rather than
haphazard. This was someone who cared about his appearance. “Pleased to meet
you.”

Ray grinned. “Likewise. I’d like to dress you to match.”

“I don’t do that. I design jewelry.”

“About that. It’s exquisite. Wasted onstage but I have some
clients who’d love to see some.”

“Really?” This was turning into a real red-letter day. Great
sex, a new contract and a new contact. She fished her small metal case from her
side pocket and handed him a business card. She might look hippie but she never
went anywhere without her cardcase. She’d learned that early. Ray had too,
because he gave her his.

“Call me and we’ll set something up.”

“I do cheap and cheerful or expensive and exclusive so I can
cater for most occasions.”

Ray nodded. “Cool. Good idea. This I take it is the
expensive side? Too carefully made for cheap and cheerful.”

She glanced at the piece currently adorning Riku’s neck,
clearly visible hanging over the black shirt he wore under the newspaper suit. “I
thought it wouldn’t get noticed but it looks like you showcased it.”

“Too fucking right. We had a different shirt in mind but
this goes well and it’s better with the jewelry.”

She’d get photos too and afterward, in the press conference.
Her heart warmed. He’d done this on purpose, decided to wear it tonight and she
believed him when he’d said he wouldn’t have if he hadn’t liked the piece. Riku
considered his career professionally. He always had.

“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you doing this.”

“Then don’t tell me.” Riku waggled his brows. “I might let
you show me later.”

Oh, yes, she’d do that for sure.

By the time they’d eaten, Riku had reapplied his face paint
and the car had arrived. A black limo with plenty of room inside, she was glad
to see, because Riku needed the space. His suit had wide-legged pants and she
didn’t want to crease it. He took her hand in the car, as if he wanted the
contact. She sensed the tension in him and the withdrawal but she understood
the reason for that only too well.

He was preparing himself, perhaps going through the running
order, getting his mind set and concentrated. A singer would do the same thing,
as she went through her vocal warm-ups, thinking the part through, getting in
the atmosphere of the piece. The days when an operatic performer relied on her
voice alone were long gone. These days acting was involved.

Obviously that worked for this gig too.

They arrived with an hour to spare before the band was due
onstage. They tended to keep to time these days, since so many gigs had
curfews, so she refused to go backstage with him. But she promised, hand on
heart, to go backstage afterward, to keep him company in the press conference. “You’re
part of this now,” he reminded her, squeezing her hand.

“I know.” She was in, whatever happened next.

He gripped her fingers a tiny bit tighter. “My parents are
coming tonight. Some of my family too.”

She swallowed. The atmosphere grew tense enough to snap
knicker elastic. “I’m here and I’ll stay with you.” It was a promise.

“Thanks.” Finally she’d get to meet the people who expected
so much from him and then discarded him when he’d disappointed them after
dropping out of his studies in Paris. She’d met his mother briefly and still
carried an impression of a small, beautifully coiffed and dressed woman, poise
personified.

The limo drove slowly past the fans crowding around the
barriers. “It’s the Oscars,” she said. “Except for the red carpet and the
evening dress.”

“Speak for yourself,” Riku said. “It was never this nuts
before and I’m not sure I like it. But we’ve opened the box and we can’t close
it again easily.”

“Do you want to?”

He tilted his head to one side, regarded her thoughtfully.
He was still there, the man she’d known before, Riku. Too perceptive, getting
so close to her inner self he might know it better than she did. “No.”

Still honest.

The limo stopped and first Ray got out, disappearing with an
efficiency that told her he’d done this many times before, then Riku. He
waited, hand held out, ignoring the camera flashes and the yells from the
people gathered at the barrier.

She placed her hand in his, feeling she was putting more
than her faith in him. It seemed symbolic, as if she was committing herself to
more. Perhaps because of the expression in his dark eyes, blacker, even though
she knew they were really the darkest of browns.

Or just the way he waited, motionless and patient. The costume
and the spiked hair faded into insignificance. Nothing mattered more than this,
that they were facing this together.

She let him guide her from the car and into the brightly lit
area outside the arena. He took her hand to his lips, touched it with his
breath. They couldn’t kiss because of his face paint. They’d kiss later, his
eyes said. A lot. She promised that too.

He turned to Ray, who stood in the shadow of the door. Not
disappeared after all. “Take care of her, will you? She’s going out front.”

“Sure.” Ray grinned. “We get more fun that way. Riku gets to
work to make us happy.”

That forced her to laugh.

Something hit Riku from behind.

Cyn only had a brief sight of the astonishment on his
features before he fell forward onto her. They tumbled down and hit the ground,
her on her back, Riku knocking the wind out of her.

A buzzing sound echoed in her ears—no, it was Riku growling.
He spun, the long jacket of his suit swirling like the tassels on samurai
armor. Facing whatever had hit him, forcing him to collide with her and take
her down. Cyn could do nothing except gasp for breath, unable to do anything.
Had someone shot him, or stabbed him?

Belying his outlandish appearance, Riku grabbed his
attacker, his hands biting into the shirt-clad shoulders of someone who
obviously didn’t belong there. Holding the guy at arms’ length. Ray snaked
around the man from behind, pinning his upper arms to his sides in a grip the
youth couldn’t break. Then the muscle arrived. As Cyn took her first deep
breath and the world swam, she saw something flash in the light as Ray removed
it from the man.

A knife.

Riku turned his back and came to her. Turned his back on his
attacker while security took the youth from Ray and hustled him away.

Riku touched her with gentle hands, running his palms down her
sides.

“I’m okay, just winded.” Probably bruised as well. The
cement was none too soft. “Honestly.”

He lifted her to a sitting position, his arm around her
back. “Are you sure?”

Pain shot through her and the world spun. She leaned against
him, glad of his presence. She felt safe with him. “What—who was it?”

“Like I said. It’s nuts. Not usually this nuts though. And I
bet people have taken pictures.”

“Talk to me.”

She hadn’t seen Chick arrive but here he was, kneeling on
her other side.

“A man with a knife. A shiny knife, so not a professional.”

Chick gave Riku a look of sheer amazement. “How the fuck do
you know that?”

“Seen the films, read the books.” Riku didn’t take his
attention from her. “Do you mind if I lift you?”

“Sure.”

Riku hoisted her into his arms and carried her inside. By
the time they’d reached his dressing room she was breathing again, albeit
shallowly. The pain in her side shocked her with its intensity but she didn’t
want to tell him. He might stop her watching the performance. At worst she’d
broken a rib. He laid her on a small couch at one side of the room and knelt
next to her.

Chick was shooting orders all the way. Until they got in the
room and they closed the door, then he lowered his voice and leaned against the
panels, watching her closely. “We’re saying it was a fan,” Chick said. “For all
we know it’s the truth but we don’t want to give people ideas.”

The notion chilled her. A blood sport, to attack Murder City
Ravens. Stranger things had happened and if the attack went viral—she felt sick
now.

Riku gave a terse nod but didn’t take his attention from
her. “How are you feeling, sweetheart? Do you need anything?”

“Water would be nice,” she said, more to see if she could
move relatively freely out of his sight than need for a drink.

She managed, although she did wince a couple of times. At
least Chick had found her a bottle. She might have found drinking neatly from a
glass more difficult. She didn’t want to admit how shaken she felt. Not all her
years in New York had given her an experience like that. A sudden knife
assault, completely out of the blue, despite the security guards on duty.

Chick glanced at Ray, who had entered and stood quietly by
the door. “Good work, man.”

Ray gave a curt nod. “Dressers don’t usually get that kind
of excitement. I’ll look after her.”

Riku waved him away, the heavy rings on his hand flashing in
the light, reminding Cyn sickeningly of the last thing she’d seen shining like
that. “I’ll do it.”

“No.” She couldn’t let him do anything to jeopardize his
performance. “I’m fine, truly. Go to the band, they’ll be wanting you.”

“They can wait.”

“No, they can’t.” Forcing a smile, she swung her legs off
the sofa and sat up, bracing herself for the inevitable pain. “It was you he
was after. You winded me when you fell, that’s all. I should be asking you if
you’re okay.” She handed him the water bottle and he took a deep draught
without taking his attention from her.

“Thanks.” He watched her closely. “Are you sure?”

“She can sit with security,” Chick said, “Ray’ll bring her
back after the show. Now go.”

With a doubtful look Riku got to his feet, brushed down his
pants and left, after one quick kiss and a thorough scan of her body. His
outfit was a bit smudged now but with the design, it only looked natural. “Call
me, you hear? I’m taking my cell onstage and fuck the technicians.”

“Put it on Vibrate,” Chick said. “You’ll screw with the
sound guys if you don’t. Show her what you can do.”

“I did that last night.” With one last, doubtful glance,
Riku left.

Cyn closed her eyes until she heard the door close quietly. “Okay,
he’s gone,” Chick said. “Tell us the truth.”

“I think I’ve broken a rib.” She gasped, breathing shallowly
now she didn’t have to pretend anymore.

Ray barked an order. “Get your top off. Let me see.”

“What?”

“Girl, I’ve seen more naked bodies than I can count. But
what’s more important to you now, I’ve had training in advanced first aid. Army
training. Let me look.”

Recalling that she had bikini tops more revealing than the
bra she wore tonight, Cyn unbuttoned her shirt, glad she hadn’t decided on a
tee. She wasn’t sure she could have lifted it over her head.

Chick stood by the door as Ray examined her, probing gently.
“You’re gonna bruise and, yes, there it is.” Although he touched her gently, a
shard of pain stabbed through her and she yelped. “You’ve fractured or cracked
a rib. You’ll have to woman up and get over this on your own. Watch for
coughing or shortness of breath. You should get to a hospital, have an X-ray
just to be sure, but they won’t do much. They tend to leave broken ribs to heal
naturally.”

She didn’t need him to tell her. She longed to attend the
gig and needed to support her lover. Tonight Murder City Ravens finished the
tour. She’d never have that chance again. “You know his family is coming
tonight?”

“Yes,” said Chick from the door. “I’ll ensure they’re
brought back after the show.”

“He doesn’t get along with them.”

“I know that. They’ve never come to see him before. Waited
until he came to them.” The Shiraishis were based in New York, or nearby, so
Chick’s assessment was right on the ball.

“I don’t want to go to hospital tonight.” She managed her
words only in a series of small gasps and fixed her gaze on Chick, knowing he
was the key to her staying.

“I’m ex-army,” said Ray. “While I wasn’t a medic I got
advanced training. A broken rib is pretty much routine.”

She scoffed but gasped in shock when pain lanced through
her. “It’s like a red-hot needle.”

Ray’s lips firmed. “Tell me about it. Hold still and I’ll
get what I need. I’m sure this place has some heavy-duty bandages.” He got to
his feet and soon returned with a roll of supportive tape. “This is just to get
you through tonight, you hear? When you get home take it off and let the injury
heal on its own. Don’t breathe like you’re doing now. Do it properly or you’ll
risk pneumonia.” She was still trying to breathe shallowly but at his words she
braced herself to take a few deep breaths. Agony.

He deftly wrapped the bandage around her middle, taped it
and then slapped an ice pack on the area that had already begun to grow purple.
“Breathing will hurt at first but in a day or two you won’t notice it so much.
If we can get the swelling down it will feel a whole lot better.” He sat back
on his haunches. “You can get dressed.” He grinned. “I don’t get to say that to
a woman often these days.”

She buttoned her shirt, trying to concentrate on breathing
and finding a position that didn’t hurt. He removed the ice pack until she’d
fastened up, then put it back. “Hold it there for another ten. Then take it
away for five, then put it back for another ten. I’ll be with you, so I’ll take
care of the timing.”

“I’ll get you an insulated bag and a bunch of ice packs,”
Chick said. “Take it out front with you.”

“Some beer to fill up the spaces wouldn’t go amiss.”

Chick laughed. “You got it.” He glanced at her. “Are you
sure you want to do this? He’ll cope without you.”

“Believe me, I’m no martyr.” She gave a crooked smile,
relieved her injuries were no worse than this. Riku had slammed his full length
on her and it could have been much worse. “But with his family arriving he
wants me here.” She met his cool blue gaze. “I’ve met his mother only once, the
rest not at all, which in itself says something. We dated through our time at
the institute, nearly three years and they never came to see any of the
performances and he didn’t visit them. Even my parents flew over from Britain
to see a couple of mine.”

“That matches what I know,” said Chick. “We’ll provide a
united front.”

“Army talk,” Ray commented. He nodded when he watched her
take a deep breath. “Keep doing that. You’ll be fine. No heavy lifting and try
to get some time off work. It’ll be six weeks before it heals and longer to
knit securely.”

“Six weeks like this?” Horrified, she stared at him.

“You’ll cope and the pain will ease off.” He flashed a grin.
“I’ve taken gun positions down while I’ve sustained broken ribs before now. C’mon,
let’s find our seats and get settled before the crowd starts shoving their way
back from the bar.”

Chick opened the door and they found two burly security men
outside. They more or less surrounded her as Chick handed them the wristbands
to get her backstage after the show. Then the guards walked with her through
the narrow door nearest to their seats. Bottom tier, near the stage.

Once she’d settled she had a cool drink of beer and took the
painkillers Ray gave her, ignoring Ray’s grimace of disapproval. She shrugged.
Yeah, right, beer and painkillers, but it wasn’t as if she made a habit of it.

The Garden was full, a sellout, and people were happily
jostling each other in the mosh pit. Electronic screens broadcast texts people
were sending to the central office. Extra income for the promoters, amusement
for the crowd.