Wicked Bad Boys (69 page)

A
manda
and I were alone again. In our own suite. She still had the same expression of disinterest on her face.

“Are you hungry?” I asked, hoping it was the jetlag that caused her apparent listlessness.

“Starved,” she answered.

“Great,” I told her, stepping close enough to finally pull her in close again. “How about you relax a bit, and I’ll order us room service.”

“Sounds perfect,” she concurred, turning her head to rest her cheek on my chest.

“So everything is okay, right?”

“Definitely.” She looked up at me and I couldn’t resist planting a kiss on her soft lips. “That was a long flight. And…sorry about almost breaking your arm earlier.”

“I’m fine,” I insisted, raising the arm to show her it still worked. “See?”

“Good. I’m glad I didn’t do too much damage.” She gently pulled out of the embrace and went over to her suitcases. “I’m going to change and relax a bit while the food’s coming, okay?”

“Sure. Any preferences for dinner?”

“No idea. It’s hard to tell whether I should have breakfast, lunch or dinner, with that long flight.”

“No doubt.”

“Just surprise me,” she said, yawning, and followed behind me as I carried her suitcases into the bedroom.

I left her to search through her bags, and returned to the living room to find the menu. I ordered several Greek souvlaki and kebab entrees, a couple of salads, and her favorite desserts. Checking the mini-bar, I pulled out a few bottles of sparkling water. Wine or alcohol after such a taxing flight was not going to be any good for either of us. I downed a bottle and opened another while I waited for the food to arrive.

Amanda didn’t return, so I took a bottle for her. She must have been exhausted. I found her curled up under the covers, sleeping peacefully on the king-size bed. The hotel server knocked just then. I went to let him in, and had him leave the large serving cart in the living room. After he left, I had a few bites of one of the steak kebab sticks, used the bathroom, and crawled into bed beside Amanda. It wasn’t long before I also fell asleep.

S
urprisingly
, all we did in bed overnight was rest. The alarm woke me up, and I was still so out of it, it was a struggle to sit up in bed. The sheer exhaustion of the long flight made it hard to move. I looked over on the bed and realized Amanda was already gone. My sleepy eyes scanned the room. She wasn’t here. I stumbled out of bed and shuffled to the living room.

“Good morning, Johnny.” her voice chirped out.

She was sitting with Fred and Larry. I nodded and headed to the bathroom for a shower, and quickly got dressed before going back out. The agents and Amanda were seated at the breakfast bar, drinking coffee and eating breakfast pastries with fruit.

“Good morning,” I said on entering.

“Coffee?” Amanda asked.

I nodded and she poured me a cup. Kevin came in with his own key card before I could get the cup to my lips. As usual, his eyes were glued to his watch, and I would have found it entertaining, had I been able to summon up some more energy.

“We have to be downstairs in half an hour,” he announced, looking at the four of us. He focused on Fred. “Are the rest of your men coming?”

“Yes. We were able to get four more agents stationed in the Paris office. They’re already waiting for us down in the lobby.”

“Great. Let’s get them up here now, so we can all leave as a unit. There’s no telling what kind of crowd will be waiting for us downstairs. From here, we’ll drive to a private airstrip and take two helicopters to the island. Someone from Princess Ameena’s royal household family will meet us there to make introductions.” He turned to me and said. “That will give you time to do a sound check with the band members, and get ready for the performance.”

“Who’s this Princess, anyway?” I asked.

“You didn’t read over my booking portfolio, I gather.”

“Maybe I didn’t.”

“Well you’d better get to it on the helicopter ride over. It’s actually two princesses. Best friends. The birthday girl is Princess Marina-Claire of Liechtenstein. She’s turning nineteen. Her best friend is Ameena. It’s her father who booked the gig. She’s actually a Sheikha of one of the Arab Emirates. That’s like a princess, but much richer. Her father owns seven or eight of the private Greek islands.”

“Okay. Well that’s good. Hopefully it’ll be like that private concert I did in Dubai a couple years back.”

“What do you mean?”

“Can’t you remember? The women were all dressed in those floor-length black robes and were very…how should I say…subdued.”

“It won’t be anything like that. And do I have to teach you everything, Johnny? You have fans worldwide. You need to work on being more culturally aware. The robes they wore are traditional Emirati attire. You won’t find this family dressing that way, because this particular Sheikh is more of a Western thinker. His family is not nearly as traditional as most of the Arab royals. They dress and act like westerners. And they all know who Johnny Q Venom is. Many of them have been to your live concerts, so expect to be swarmed.”

“That’s too bad. That Dubai gig was the first time I wasn’t mauled by a crowd of fans. If it’s that tame, I’d be up for doing more private functions for sure.”

“It won’t be anywhere near as calm. But no matter how it goes, remember to address the royal family with ‘your excellency’.”

“Will do. While we’re on the subject, I had to ask, why did you agree to book me to do this private birthday party? We haven’t done private gigs for years.”

“Trust me, it was not part of the plan. I turned them down three times. Her father was insistent, and kept increasing the booking offer. Ameena and Marina-Claire are big fans. Huge. By the time I said yes…well let’s just say the revenue from this two-hour performance alone covers all the costs for the entire seven-city tour. And we’ll be back here at the hotel sometime after midnight, so it doesn’t require you to entertain them for too long.”

“Makes sense.”

“So is everyone clear on the clients?”

Amanda, Fred and Larry nodded in agreement, and I told the group I needed a few minutes to get ready.

“I need a few things from the bathroom,” Amanda added, following behind me. Once in the room she asked, “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes. I was out like a light. You?”

“Same.”

“Good. Glad you got some rest. Hey, can we talk?”

“Definitely,” she said, and turned to face me. “Is something wrong?”

“No, no. It’s just…You’ll see soon enough, but when I’m on the road performing, I’m a bit of a different person. It’s like I have to tune out everything else to get in the zone. You know what I mean?”

“I think so,” she said.

“I don’t want you to think anything’s changed when you see for yourself. I can get a little…well I can become pretty intense with the fans.”

“Noted. I’ll go with the flow, not to worry.” She walked to the bathroom and returned with a small makeup bag, which she stuffed into her purse. “All ready?”

“Yes,” I told her, swooping in for one last embrace. I kissed her hair, and hoped for the best.

We returned to the living room, and I put on my sunglasses, getting ready to make the shift to rock star mode.

W
hen we got
down to the lobby, we were greeted by a swarm of fans, all holding cameras and phones, snapping pictures of Johnny and his disguised entourage and security detail, including the six FBI agents, Kevin and me—the ex-MMA security guard and picture-ready media-only girlfriend. Fred and his team went out front to clear a path and became human barriers between Johnny and his adoring fans. I fought back my instinct to go help. It would ruin the girlfriend act.

I knew something was off though, when Johnny didn’t reach for my hand or do anything to play up his boyfriend role or even try to use it as an excuse to get close. He had been acting strange since we woke up this morning. It didn’t help that he gave me this obscure caveat that he would be different on tour. I should have braced for the change, but I didn’t, and he seemed to morph into someone else as I followed him through the crowd. Still, I wasn’t too concerned. Back when I was fighting in the MMA, I would get the same way before a fight. I’d put my head into the game hours before entering the ring. I’d clear my thoughts, and only my coach and a few people could get through to me when I was psyching myself up before a fight. Somehow, this was different. And maybe it was my reaction to it.

The problem was that over the past few days, Johnny had made his way over the first set of walls I erected around myself, and I was the one who let him in. Now I was beginning to feel like my brain was stuck in some sort of endless loop. I was certain that messing around with Johnny was a terrible idea. He was only going to end up getting hurt, and I couldn’t have that on my conscious. I had my reasons for staying out of relationships, and had grown used to stepping away from men when it started to feel like more than just fun.

I couldn’t expect Johnny to understand that, in spite of my repeated warnings. And even if he claimed to understand, he would probably continue to try and change my mind. He may have been speaking the words, but I knew the truth. He wanted more. I just couldn’t afford to be in another relationship. Not for his sake, and certainly not for mine. I needed to smother whatever hopes he had of winning me over, or whatever he wanted to have with me.

I turned my attention back to him, following as he strode through the lobby, two paces ahead, waving to all his adoring fans—mostly female. Something struck me as I observed him. Maybe it was all an act. Perhaps this role I was in helped to play up his rocker, sex symbol, man-whore side, and I had simply gotten caught in the crossfire because of the stalker case. It could be that all he wanted was a few weeks of fun while on tour, and then we could part ways with some fond memories of a super-comfortable friendship and some really hot sex.

That,
I could deal with—as long as he didn’t want more.

We pressed through the crowd and loaded into the vans that were waiting outside. Johnny and I ended up sitting in different vehicles again. The helicopter ride was the same way. Personally, I had no problem with the seating plans. It was my first trip to Europe, so it was easy to get lost in the beauty of the stunning landmarks and breathtaking views below. I put the whole Johnny question mark out of my mind. As the helicopter flew out over the Aegean Sea, my breath caught. Coming from Miami, there were not many places I had been to that impressed me. But these clusters of islands surrounded by brilliant aqua-blue seas were like nothing I had ever seen.

The pilot descended to a lower altitude as we approached a tightly packed group of islands. It was even more beautiful up close, with white sand beaches, lush vegetation, castles and homes with a stunning mix of ancient and modern architecture.

Most of the islands looked uninhabited, at least from the air, except for the large island near the middle. There were two large structures near the coast. I had been told it was the royal family’s private resort. We learned that the two princesses and their respective families had arrived a week earlier with a small entourage, but their broader group of invited guests had only arrived the day before Johnny’s scheduled performance. Apparently, their celebration of her birthday would go on for several days, and over one hundred guests would attend Johnny’s show. With six FBI agents, eight security staff who had flown out earlier with the road crew, and me, I felt we would be in good shape to cover off the event. We were told to expect at least three dozen men from the Sheikh’s personal guard to offer protection during the festivities as well.

We touched down on the island helicopter pad, and were met by two men in suits. They ushered us into the grand entry of a colossal castle-like structure to meet the royal families. The exterior seemed to be a fusion of mysterious eastern European spires and towers at the top, with Italian archways lining the main and second floors. Inside was elegantly decorated in shades of blue, cream and bronze, with bright floor-to ceiling drapes that snapped and whipped in the breeze as they let in the dazzling sunlight. The place almost had an aura to it…it was so bright.

Several members of the two families were lined up, waiting to welcome us. All the attention was on Johnny, and honestly, that suited me just fine. It meant I didn’t need to do much more than nod politely as I kept watch. My eyes shifted away from the sculpture I had been inspecting, over to Johnny as he greeted the two princesses. Both were tall, graceful and drop-dead gorgeous.

Princess Marina-Claire had a classic European beauty, with bright blue eyes and waist-length strawberry blonde hair. I quickly decided Princess Ameena was possibly the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She had jet black hair that fell in loose waves around her shoulders. Her huge almond-shaped brown eyes were clear and bright with animation as she spoke. And her body was slender, yet had alluring curves.

I hung back with Fred and his team, and Kevin unceremoniously lumped me in with them when the formal introductions were made. Kevin glossed over me, calling me Rachel, but did not add that I was Johnny’s girlfriend—pretend or otherwise. I was not even his bodyguard. I was just “Rachel.” The princesses smiled at all of us, thanked us for coming, and honed in on Johnny. I couldn’t fight off a twinge of jealousy as I watched him smile and chat with the two of them. They were far enough away that I couldn’t hear every word, but whatever they were talking about, he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself.

Once the families excused themselves, Johnny was shown to a main floor guest room that had been set aside for him to use as his dressing room. Kevin was assigned the room beside Johnny, and the FBI and security team had a sitting room a few doors down. I followed Johnny with Fred and one of the new FBI agents in tow. The three of us swept the room, checking thoroughly for anything suspicious. The words from the stalker’s messages rang through my mind. We couldn’t afford to leave anything to chance. Fred had briefed me on the plane ride that the two agents back in LA, Jenny and Lucas, were still looking for answers, but had not uncovered anything new so far.

We did not tell Johnny about the newest message, mainly because it was not much different or any more alarming than the earlier posts. When we had wrapped up searching the room, Johnny came in and flopped into a chair, letting out a long sigh. He seemed tired. I was also adjusting to the long flight, and felt little desire to start a conversation.

“Everything okay?” Kevin asked as he entered the room.

“All clear,” Fred replied. He got up off the floor after checking all sides of Johnny’s bed.

“Excellent,” Kevin answered, seeming more relieved. “Gentlemen and Amanda, would you mind if I spoke with Johnny alone?”