Slay Me (Rock Gods #1) (7 page)

             
She finished her drink and then another after he refilled her glass, pressing her to drink. She leaned back and closed her eyes, the empty drink still in her hand.

             
He stared at her, the cards forgotten in his hands.

             
She'd bloody well fallen asleep!

             
No woman had ever fallen asleep on Nick Falcon. He was a bloody rock star! Women fainted sometimes in his presence, but slept? Never! Only if he'd worn them out by shagging them all night long.

             
Nick's sense of outrage was quickly replaced by something else entirely while he watched her sleep. He felt protective of her in a way that was foreign to him. He'd trounce anyone who wanted to do the things that he was contemplating. Or anyone who tried to get her drunk as he just had. She looked so innocent in her sleep. Softer somehow. He knew he would like to wake up and see her laying so sweetly beside him. And he'd do anything to keep her safe.

             
Gingerly, he reached to pull her drink from her hand. Then he leaned back and dealt himself a game of solitaire.

             
He had a feeling he'd be doing a lot of that in the next few weeks.

Eight

              Sabrina woke up in the enormous four poster bed. It took her a moment to remember where she was. Oh right, she was in London. With Nick Falcon and Company. They were booked at the Four Seasons for the next few days in London. They'd arrived in the early afternoon and she'd gone immediately to bed. Now it was nearly 8 o'clock in the evening.

             
She must have missed Nicks' rehearsal at the arena that afternoon. Great. She was off to a great start. She wondered why they hadn't woken her. Then again, maybe they'd tried.

             
With a groan she realized that she might not have woken even if they'd been pounding on the door with a battering ram. She rolled over, grabbing her head. She'd never felt so sick in her life.

             
But on the bright side, she didn't remember a thing about the flight.

             
She was just stepping out of the shower when her phone buzzed. It was Nick. He wanted her to go up to his room to discuss the schedule. For a moment she wondered if it was just another ploy to get her into bed. There was no point in pretending that's not what he was after. Not that he was being subtle about it.

             
She was too hungover to lie to herself at the moment.

             
It's too bad she wasn't the sort for casual sex. She had a feeling it would be an unforgettable experience if she was up for it. But she hadn't been with anyone since her boyfriend in Business School. That was over two years ago. She was no match for an experienced playboy like Nick.

             
Besides, she couldn't risk messing up her career any more than she already had for a roll in the hay.

             
But what she was really worried about what losing her heart.
Nick seemed like just the person to steal it away. And then trash it when he got bored. He probably wouldn't even do it deliberately. It was just who he was.

             
Reckless.

             
Dangerous.

             
Irresistable.

             
She rubbed her wet hair with a towel and slipped into her jeans and a plain gray t shirt. She combed her hair out and dabbed a spot of soft pink gloss onto her lips.

             
She wasn't sure why she bothered. She looked hungover. And she didn't care what he thought of her anyway.

             
Yeah, right.

             
At the last minute she pulled a sharp black blazer on. She could at least
look
semi professional, even if she wasn't.

             
She took the elevator up to the penthouse and rang the buzzer. Marley answered the door. He glanced behind him and said "I was just leaving. Good night Sabrina. Nick."

             
Sabrina couldn't be sure but she had the impression that Marley was displeased with Nick for some reason. She shook it off. What difference did it make?

             
Nick appeared in the hallway of the suit, waving her in. He'd just showered too from the look of it. His shirt was open and his hair was damp. She closed her eyes, feeling a little woozy.

             
"Come in, come in. Have a seat."

             
She sat on the couch, feeling awkward. He had a huge suite with a living room, two baths and a full kitchen. It's not like they were in his bedroom but still, they were alone. If only she didn't feel so off, she'd be able to handle this-

             
"How do you feel?"

             
He sat down next to her and was leaning over her. He was close.
Too close.

             
"I've felt better to be honest."

             
He brightened. As if he were
glad
she felt like dog vomit.

             
"Hair of the dog? Best thing for it."

             
Her stomach twisted in her gut.

             
"No, thank you Mr. Falcon."

             
"Call me Nick, love."

             
"I'd rather not."

             
"I thought we had a deal."

             
She just shook her head and then winced. Ouch, that hurt.

             
He frowned.

             
"Fine. Let's just review the schedule then."

             
The schedule- oh god. Where was her brain at? She was failing miserably at handling her first A list client. The whole scenario literally could not be going any worse. She'd probably lose her job over this.

             
She probably deserved to.

             
"I- I forgot my copy."

             
He stared at her for a moment, as if deciding what to do with her next. Which way to twist her emotions.

             
"No worries doll, I have it right here."

             
Apparently he had decided to be kind. This time. Who knew what he would try next.              The next thing she knew he was sitting next to her, with his arm around her shoulders. She held her head and moaned.

             
"I think I'm going to throw up."

             
"Come on now love, you're hurting my feelings!"

             
He smiled at her entreatingly. He thought he was being charming. She blinked and tried to focus.

             
"I'm sorry- I- I think I need to go back to my room now."

             
He held her arm tightly and leaned toward her.

             
"Ah, but only if you promise to have dinner with me after the Graham Norton show tomorrow."

             
"I- oh god- I can't. Have to - stay professional."

             
She sounded absurd talking about being professional while she slouched on his couch in hungover misery. He was making slow circles with his palm on her back. It felt heavenly. But she knew she should make him stop.

             
"It is professional to keep your clients happy. I need a moral boost before we launch. It's vital to the success of the tour."

             
She peeked at him over her hand. He was making puppy dog eyes at her. She moaned and lowered her head again.

             
"Please Mr. Falcon-"

             
"Nick. You promised to call me Nick, remember?"

             
"Please- Nick- I really should not be seen with you after-"

             
She closed her eyes and forced herself to stand up. To move away from the slow sensuous touch of his hand. He caught her hand and stopped her.

             
"After what?"

             
"After what you said. About me. And you."

             
She turned to face him, sitting below her. It was odd, but there was something in his face that gave her pause. He looked sincere.

             
He looked remorseful.

             
"I'm sorry about that love. I didn't mean it the way it sounded. I meant it as a compliment."

             
Her mouth opened a bit. Nick Falcon was full of surprises. He had caught her off guard. Again.

             
"It's alright. Just forget it."

             
It wasn't really alright, but there was no point in torturing him with it. He really did seem to feel bad about it.

             
"I swear that I had no idea- didn't realize it would be in all the papers."

             
The floor dropped out from under her. She was on her feet in seconds.

             
"What did you say?"

             
He looked utterly panicked as he stood and grabbed her shoulders.

             
"It's not a big deal love. It's just one of those silly things. It will all blow over in no time, you'll see."

             
She tore herself away from him. Her hangover was washed away in the force of the righteous indignation that flooded her body.

             
"Show me."

             
"You don't need to see this love. Please-"

             
"Show me."

             
Very slowly he stood up and reached for a stack of newspapers. He handed them to her. She flipped through them, seeing her face on the front page of each. They all said something asinine like 'Nick's New Girl' or 'Lady Falcon.' She felt even sicker than she had a moment ago.

             
He smiled at her.

             
"At least it's good publicity?"

             
She stood up straight despite feeling as if the world was crumbling around her.

             
"It's good publicity
for you.
It will go away
for you.
It won't matter
for you.
I have worked my ass off to get where I am today. I am good at my job. You have no idea what I've given up and now
it's all fucking GONE."

             
Nick had stepped back a few paces. She realized she had followed him, matching him step for step. To her horror she felt hot tears welling up in the back of her eyes.

             
She was yelling at her client. Oh god. Now she'd really done it.

             
She covered her mouth and ran out of the room to the hallway. She wiped her face with the backs of her hands and pressed the elevator button frantically.

             
He had made her cry again.

             
So why didn't she hate him?

             
Why was he the one she wanted to hold her and tell her everything was going to be alright?

             
For someone with an MBA from Harvard, she was a real idiot.

**********

              "Yeah hi Harvey, it's Nick Falcon."

             
"Hey Nick how are you?

             
"I'm good mate. I was hoping you could help me with a little problem. It's about those rumors making the rounds."

             
"About your A&R girl?"

             
"Yeah that's the one."

             
"Okay. Don't you have a PR person to do that sort of thing?"

             
"Nah, don't have one of those. Never needed one."

             
"But you do now?"

             
"Yeah well, you see the bird this whole thing is about- Miss Newton- she's not sleeping with me. She won't even go to bloody dinner with me! And now I think my chances are less than nil."

             
"She's pissed huh?"

             
"The whole bloody thing was a misunderstanding. I only meant that I would do anything the bloody woman told me to! She's got my bullocks in her god damned pocketbook."

             
Harvey laughed.

             
"Okay so if we tell the true story, you think you might have a chance with her?"

             
"God, I hope so. Otherwise I'm going to be taking cold showers for the rest of my natural life."

             
"Wait, let me get this straight. The legendary Nick Falcon is swearing off groupies?"

             
"Yeah mate. I am."

             
"Super models? Actresses?"

             
"Yeah, the lot of them don't hold a candle to her."

             
"Well, that is a scoop. Okay Nick let me see what I can do."

             
"Thank mate. I owe you one."

             
Nick hung up the phone and glanced at Marley by the door.