Leather, Lace and Rock-n-Roll (14 page)

She cleared her throat and demanded her body
behave. “I’m not some sponge-brained groupie, Hawke.”

“Far from it.” He moved his hand down to
caress the hollow of her neck.

Rachel closed her eyes and a small, barely
audible moan escaped her lips. His soft touch made her limp with
need. Coming to her senses, she quickly batted his hand away.
“Okay, I give. I do want you. But you know as well as I do, it will
never work.”

“Why?”

“Because I won’t settle for a one-night stand
and that seems to be your specialty.”

His eyes flashed hurt. “Do you really believe
that?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so abrupt,
but you’re a musical icon. Women literally throw themselves at you
and stuff panties in your pocket on a nightly basis.” Rachel tossed
her hands in the air. “I don’t even know if Hawke is your real
name. And really, if I’m going to scream a name in the throes of
passion, I prefer it to be a real one!”

Hawke only stared, obviously not expecting
that particular excuse. And then she caught a sparkle in the depths
of his eyes.

“That is my name and I’ll make absolutely
sure you scream it.”

Rachel released a long, heavy sigh. “I don’t
have anything to offer you.”

He tipped her chin with his finger. “You have
much more to offer than you think.”

Her breath caught in her throat. She could so
easily fall prey to his hypnotizing charm. Slowly she stepped away
from his tempting touch. “Let me think about this.”

He shrugged. “Think about it all you want.
You’ll only make yourself more frustrated.”

Rachel knew he was exactly right. Yet, like
Cameron said, she shouldn’t make it too easy. She gave him a wide
smile. “I’m willing to take the chance.”

***

Max shifted his weight and forced his
queasiness to the bottom of his stomach as he watched Pirelli press
the fiery vixen closer to him and position himself between her
legs. One more inch and he could do her right there on the dance
floor. Who the hell danced like that? His face burned when
Pirelli’s hand slid from the small of her back to squeeze one round
globe of her ass.

Max glanced across the room and spotted a
fire extinguisher hanging behind glass in a corner. That would put
a kink in Casanova’s game. Max shook his head to clear his
thoughts. Who the hell cared? He wasn’t on playground duty tonight.
He glanced back at the couple just as she swatted Pirelli and moved
his hand back to her waist, but it wasn’t two seconds later before
Pirelli went for it again. Max held his breath, sure he would have
to peel Pirelli off the floor any second. Instead, she glanced
Max’s direction and smirked.

And then wiggled her ass against Pirelli’s
hand.

Behind his shaded lenses, Max gave her a
stare he used right before wringing a neck. Or slicing an artery.
Only, she had no idea she was on the receiving end.

Finally releasing his gaze, she swatted
Pirelli again and giggled as she led him back to their table. She
then swayed toward the bar.

Max elbowed Huntington in the arm. “Here
comes Trouble.”

Huntington tightened his hold on his
wineglass, loosened his tie, and took a swig of wine. “Hey,
Cameron.”

“Greg.” She nodded as the bartender handed
her three glasses.

She turned to face Max and tilted her head to
the side. “I’m taking two of these back for Hawke and Rachel. Do
you need to taste them first?”

Max shifted his weight, prepared to beat her
at her own game. “What’s your poison?”

“Wine. Red. Most likely sour. Do you need to
know the year?”

Max shrugged. “Why not?”

She squeezed her eyes closed for a split
second and then opened them. “I have no idea. Shall I ask the
bartender?”

Totally stimulated by her smart mouth, Max
folded his arms across his chest and prepared to play. Then he
remembered Huntington stood next to him, a witness to their game.
“No, Cupcake,” he answered smoothly. “I trust you.”

Huntington coughed and a splash of wine hit
Max’s shoulder. Max thumped him on the back with added force.

Huntington frowned. “Thanks, Max.”

She gave them both another narrowed stare
then left. Max exhaled a long, slow breath.

Huntington cleared his throat. ““Uh, Max, did
you just call her —”

”Strategy, Huntington.”

Huntington swallowed the remaining wine in
his glass then reached for another. “Good idea.” He signaled at
Hawke to step to the podium. “It’s time for Hawke to speak.”

Returning to his table, Greg downed the glass
of wine in several seconds and glanced at his watch. Another half
hour and they could blow this popsicle stand. He sighed and ran a
hand through his hair. Although he wasn’t quite sure about Hawke’s
decision to slow down, he fully supported it. And, seeing Hawke
with Rachel only helped his argument. She had a way of calming him,
bringing him into the real world, away from the glitter and glam of
fame. Simply put, she provided the kick in the ass he needed to
keep from becoming too cocky. Maybe Hawke was onto something.

“Mr. Huntington?”

Greg knocked over his wine glass, startled by
a sultry, female voice. He blinked several times to clear his
vision, pleasantly surprised when he was able to focus. Her
polished appearance screamed wealth and confidence. A diamond
necklace sparkled around her long, smooth neck, the longest link
dangling a large stone just above the valley of her ample
cleavage.

“Yes, I’m Greg Huntington.” Part of him
wondered why she approached him and the other, more stimulated part
didn’t really give a damn.

“Monica Kensington.” She gestured at the
chair across the table. “May I sit?”

“Please.”

“My sources tell me you’re Mr. Hawke’s
manager.” She leaned forward, granting him a bird’s eye view the
skin beneath her dress. “The hospital board is very grateful for
his willingness to help raise funds for the new wing.”

“Hawke is honored to participate, Ms.
Kensington.” His gaze traveled the surface of her chest before
returning to her face. “He feels it’s the least he can do since he
intends to move into the community.”

Her eyes twinkled. “And are you moving into
the community as well?”

Greg leaned his head to one side and suddenly
decided against that position. “No, I work out of Los Angeles.
Hawke is just one of my clients.”

“I see.” She reached across the table to run
one red fingernail across his knuckles. “So we won’t be seeing much
of you.”

He shifted, still not entirely sure how to
interpret her attention.

“Thing is, Mr. Huntington,” she continued,
her voice heavy with heat, “I’d personally like to see more of you
around here.”

He cocked an eyebrow and tried to remember
how many glasses of wine he drank. “How much more of me?”

Suddenly her toes caressed the hardness
between his thighs. “All of you,” she whispered.

Greg swallowed hard while his erection
saluted her. “Give me ten minutes,” he answered hoarsely, “then
I’ll be able to walk out of here.”

As soon as Hawke finished dazzling the crowd,
couples returned to the dance floor and several champagne corks
popped.

Cameron leaned toward Rachel. “Do you need a
break?”

“I could use one.”

Rachel followed Cameron to the ladies’ room
and crowded next to her at the mirror. “So why are we in here? Your
nose doesn’t need powder.”

Cameron pulled out her lipstick. “Who said
anything about my nose? We’ve been so busy you haven’t told me
about your trip with Music Man.”

Rachel shrugged. “What’s to tell?”

Cameron colored her lips then made a smacking
noise with her mouth. “If there’s nothing to tell, you need to drop
him like a hot potato.”

Rachel sighed, then smiled. “Well, you know
how I feel about flying. All I could think about was crashing. But
I sat between Hawke and Max.”

Cameron bobbed her head from side to side.
“Not a bad place to be in an emergency.”

“My thought exactly. We had a really good
time.”

Rachel paused and Cameron eyed her reflection
in the mirror. “And?”

“I’m thinking about sticking a toe or two in
to test the water.”

“What changed your mind?”

While Rachel elaborated on the rest of the
day, the gleam in her eyes made Cameron’s gut clench. Maybe she
shouldn’t push so hard. Rachel could end up heartbroken. In fact,
chances were pretty good this thing with Hawke would end, badly or
not. Could Rachel pull this off? Could she have a fling without
attachment?

“Cameron!” Rachel waved a hand in front of
Cameron’s face. “Hello?”

“Sorry.” Cameron backed up against the
counter. “Continue.”

“He has kids. He took me to meet them and
their mother.”

Cameron dropped the lid to her lipstick.
“He’s married? I’ll kill him and Max can’t stop me!”

“Wait!” Rachel placed a hand on Cameron’s
forearm. “I was kidding, sort of.”

“Sort of? What does that mean? How do you
sort of have kids?”

Rachel picked up the lipstick tube and handed
it to Cameron. “The kids are foster children and Hawke is their
benefactor. Francie is the house mother.”

Cameron shook her head and tossed her
lipstick into her velvet clutch. “Wow. A humanitarian. Didn’t see
that one coming.”

“Me either. I was pleasantly surprised. And,
you should’ve seen Max.”

Cameron tilted her head to one side. “What
about him?”

“He was just one of the kids.”

“Huh.” Cameron opened the door and waved
Rachel through. “Sorry I missed that.”

Rachel and Cameron made their way back across
the conference room, stopping and chatting along the way. Once back
at the table, Rachel put her bottle up to her lips and let the cold
water slide down her scratchy, dry throat. Conversation always made
her thirsty, but it seemed worse tonight. Maybe it had something to
do with Hawke and his luscious self. Every time he looked into her
eyes or grazed her with a touch, her mouth went dry.

Cameron plopped down in the seat next to her
and picked up a program to fan the air around her. “Is it hot in
here?”

Rachel searched the room until her gaze
landed on Hawke. “Definitely so.”

“Rachel?” Cameron stopped fanning and leaned
over. “What did you drink?”

“Water. Where’s that wine you brought
earlier?”

“Right there.” Cameron pointed. “Just go
easy.”

Rachel chuckled. “Why? So I don’t get drunk
and have my wicked way with Hawke on top of the table?”

Cameron gave her a sideways look and took a
swig of her own wine. “Maybe. Do you have to be drunk to do
that?”

Rachel leaned back her head and swallowed the
whole glass of wine. “I’m not going to get drunk.” She set the
glass back on the table and noticed Sean and Hawke headed toward
them. Cameron elbowed Rachel’s arm. “Speak of the devil. Why don’t
you guys leave early?”

Rachel took Cameron’s wineglass out of her
hand and took a sip.

“Enough.” Cameron snatched it back.

Hawke stopped in front of Rachel and extended
his hand. “Dance with me.” His rich, velvet voice wrapped her like
ribbons of silk.

Without a word, Rachel took his hand and they
glided onto the dance floor. Hawke wrapped his arms around her,
pulling her close. Rachel laid her head on his chest, inhaling his
musky scent. The room began a slow spin.

Rachel held tighter to Hawke and blamed the
dancing and her overactive heartbeat. She attempted to follow his
lead and managed a few more steps when she felt disconnected from
her body. She knew that if he weren’t holding her so close, she
would slide down his body onto the floor.

She lifted her head from his chest and
blinked her eyes several times. “Hawke, I really need to sit
down.”

Hawke lifted her chin. “Rachel?”

She stumbled and grabbed Hawke’s arm to keep
from kissing the floor. Her legs felt like jelly and her vision
blurred.

Hawke guided her to the table and Rachel
stumbled again, this time almost tumbling head first into the
floral centerpiece. Cameron frowned.

“How much has she had to drink?” Hawke
asked.

Cameron reached to reposition the flowers.
“One glass of wine. She’s not drunk.”

“I have to go to the ladies’ room,” Rachel
mumbled.

“Good idea.” Cameron took her arm. “I’ll go
with you.”

They made it to the hallway before Rachel’s
legs buckled and she slid toward the floor. Cameron held on and
managed to ease her down against the wall.

Cameron squatted beside her. “Rachel, you’re
scaring me.”

Rachel rolled her head to the side. “I’m
scaring me too. Cameron, I can’t feel my arms or legs.”

“Just sit here and relax.” Cameron stood and
headed back to the gala. “I’m going for help.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Rachel mumbled.

Cameron hurried back into the conference
room, fighting the urge to sprint and scream. Since that would
attract way too much unwanted attention, she forced herself to walk
… really fast. Unfortunately, Max and Hawke stood on the far side
of the room.

Weaving her way through tables and waiters,
she finally stopped beside Max. She wrapped her fingers around his
biceps, although halfway was all she could manage. “I need you in
the hallway.” She glanced at Hawke. “You too.”

“What’s wrong, Cameron?” Hawke asked.

“Rachel’s sprawled in the floor—” Suddenly,
her lips were pressed against Max’s palm.

“Not here.”

Hawke didn’t wait for her answer and left the
room. Cameron glanced up at Max with narrowed eyes. And then bit
down hard on his middle finger.

She expected him to curse, both the pain and
her, but instead he held her lips hostage and gestured behind her
with his head.