Wyne and Song (3 page)

She didn’t need this. Didn’t want security involved.

“Ms. Weston, ma’am, I’m so sorry about that fan,” Henry said, removing his security hat as he stepped close, his kind blue eyes full of worry. “There was an incident involving an injured lady in the south stairwell, and apparently Joel left his post to go help.”

Phoebe touched his shoulder and squeezed. “It’s all right, Henry. Is the woman okay?”

“Yes, ma’am. Turned out to be a false alarm. You know how that goes.”

“I’m glad.”

“But that’s no excuse for Joel.” He shook his gray head. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again. Why don’t you come with me and fill out a report.”

“No. No, Henry.” She nodded toward the silent man leaning against the wall. “As I already explained to my well-meaning, but misguided friend, I don’t want to report anything. No harm done.”

Odd. Ethan hadn’t said a thing since she’d stepped into the hall.

“I don’t know.” Henry frowned. “I share Mr. Wyne’s concern.”

“Please, just forget about it. I already have.” She patted the guard’s arm and smiled. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got an engagement party to attend. You have a good night. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Without waiting for a reply, or Ethan, she turned and strode down the hall toward the exit that led to the lobby. Irritation prickled her spine and lengthened her stride. She knew it was unjust. That’s why she left, to avoid saying something she’d regret. If she learned nothing this past half hour, she discovered her reactions to the oldest Wyne brother were strong and unpredictable, and worse than that—uncontrollable.

For someone who learned to control her feelings, her outward reactions, her facial features, body movement, timbre and strength of her voice at a young age, losing control in any way was…exhilarating.

Dammit
.

Ethan Wyne was six-foot-two inches of lean, broad, sexy temptation.

And even though she was going to try, she doubted she’d succeed in resisting the strong pull of attraction between them tonight.

E
than Wyne was known for his quick reaction, for jumping in and helping people. Hell, he made a living out helping people as guide at the Wyne Resort he owned and ran with his three younger brothers. It was a thrill to help others discover the outdoors, and learn to push themselves past their comfort zones to succeed, and gain a sense of accomplishment. He took pride in helping his six-year-old son, Tyler, learn that hard work was good for the soul, and that team work could be more gratifying than going solo. As a part time National Guardsman, he helped his community and his country. He always had his guard brothers’ and sisters’ backs during battle and on the home front.

He did all of these things without hesitation. He was a help first, asked questions later kind of guy. It usually worked fine.

Until now.

Until the famous, incredibly beautiful Broadway star, Phoebe Weston, who sang like an angel, and tasted sweet and hot with a little citrus kick, emerged from her dressing room in a chic, sexy dress, and a pair of
do-me
heels that knocked him on his ass.

If it weren’t for the wall behind him, he was pretty sure he would’ve stumbled backward at the sight of the black material hinting at the gorgeous curves he’d glimpsed while detangling the costume from her hair. Silky, brown hair that now fell down her back in wave after wave of tangle free glory in two tones similar to the chocolate and caramel of his son’s half-eaten candy bar he nearly sat on at home. Luckily, he’d seen the treat in time to avert disaster. He had the feeling he was not going to be so lucky with Phoebe.

Avoidance was crucial, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her. The woman had mesmerized him the moment she’d stepped on stage, capturing and holding his attention, and she’d done something even more amazing. She kept him awake through the entire show.

No small feat, considering he’d just gotten back from a three-day hike, guiding two nature lovers and one not so nature lover that afternoon. He’d had just enough time to shower, throw on dress clothes, and spend less than a half-hour playing foosball with his son, before jumping on a bus to the city with Lea, Jill, and his siblings to catch a musical when he’d rather have icepicks jammed in his ears.

Except…not tonight.

No, tonight, a gorgeous brunette had caught and held the audience captive with her flawless performance
and
his attention with her beauty, amazing voice, and mesmerizing effervescence.

He knew each of those attributes were normal for an actress, but that pull, that resilient, larger than life presence was still present in her dressing room away from an audience. In fact, it had been stronger, more intense up close. And when he’d stepped up to help by brushing her lips with his, he’d felt a connection so strong, his whole body had come to life.

It’d been years since he’d felt the spark of attraction. The last time it had turned into a fire that led to marriage and a beautiful son, then turned to an out of control blaze that had burnt him to a crisp when he’d discovered his wife had been cheating on him during his deployment.

While the husband was away, the wife did play.

Erika had disregarded her vows to him, and her responsibilities to their son when she left Tyler with his sister, Brandi, for a supposed weekend get-together with old college friends, except she’d forgotten to mention it was only one friend—a male friend—and they hadn’t gone to college together.

And it’d been during that weekend getaway in the next county that she’d died when she’d skied into a tree.

The woman had broken more than her neck that day. She’d broken Ethan’s heart, his trust, his desire to get close to another woman, other than a fleeting romp in bed, and even those were few and far between.

It was as if that part of him had shut down. And if by chance a woman came along that managed to spark some life into his heart, he turned around and walked the other way.

Which was exactly what he should do now, because if ever a woman had sparked his interest, it was Phoebe Weston. The woman rushing down the hall in front of him, whose movements ricocheted through him, each sway of her rounded hips upping his temperature a notch.

Yep, pure trouble.

Good thing she was friends with his soon-to-be sisters-in-law, because that automatically made her off limits. No doubt Lea and Jill would lay down that law at one point tonight, and he’d have no choice but to ignore his desire.

Hell, he’d been doing it for years now. He’d survive. He always did.

But if he didn’t catch up and enter the lobby with the sashaying beauty, he wouldn’t survive his brother’s inquisition. Or worse. Lea’s.

So, with one last glance at that delectable wiggling ass, he lengthened his stride and fell into step alongside the woman just before the lobby door.

“I didn’t mean to upset you, Ms. Weston, but safety is a serious matter.”

She nodded without looking at him. “I know, it’s just…complicated.”

He wanted to tell her to uncomplicated it, but they’d reached the end of the corridor. She spared him a smile before pushing through the door and into a sea of eager faces. A few excited screams echoed through the lobby as a crowd of school age girls converged on the woman like a swarm of bees.

Instinct had him about to grab her shoulders and pull her back from the shrieking mass, but she greeted the mob with a smile and advanced into their huddle.

Signing autographs was probably part of her contract.

“Ah, there you are,” Ben said, approaching with a smiling Lea at his side. “We were beginning to wonder what had happened to you.”

“Yeah, it’s been nearly thirty minutes,” his brother’s fiancée added as the couple joined his out-of-the-way vigil against the wall.

He was happy his brother, a confirmed bachelor, had finally gotten a clue and noticed that the sister of his ex-girlfriend was the real deal. Lea Gablonski had been in love with the goof for over a decade, but the idiot hadn’t realized it until she’d moved to the big city, a city Ben had had an issue visiting since losing a friend when the towers had fallen.

The two had had their issues, but they’d worked through them, and now, his brother even sometimes stayed at Lea’s penthouse and commuted back to the Pocono Armory where he was a full time battalion supply sergeant in the National Guard.

He shrugged. “I waited backstage for Phoebe to change.”

“I see.” Green eyes narrowed on him in a smirking face beckoning for a punch. “Is that all, bro?”

Muffling a curse, he stared down his jackass of a brother. “Of course it was. Why?”

The last thing he needed was Sergeant Bloodhound getting wind of him helping Phoebe while she’d been half-undressed.

“Oh, nothing.” Ben pursed his lips and lifted his shoulder. “So, were you playing dress up while she changed?”

A scowl pinched his brow. “Quit talking crap.”

“Well, what else could it be?” Ben shook his stupid head, mirth dancing in his eyes as he apparently found himself funny. “I’ve never known you to wear lipstick, bro. And it appears to be the same shade as the one Phoebe wore on stage, doesn’t it Lea?”

Ah, hell.

“Let me see.” She grabbed his chin and peered closer, and he braced himself for her tirade about kissing her friend. “Yep, same shade.”

He blinked. That wasn’t a tirade. What happened to the damn tirade? He needed that tirade. It was the one safeguard that would keep him from…

“Next time, you might want to look in a mirror when you try to remove evidence of a kiss,” Lea calmly stated, the delight in her blue eyes downright dangerous. To make matters worse, she dug a tissue from her purse and wiped the corner of his mouth.

Shit
. She was supposed to be upset. She was supposed to warn him off. Give him the ‘don’t hit on my friend’ speech.

He gulped in air and slumped against the wall, his heart falling to his knees.
Damn
. He was about to get the other one. The speech he did not want to hear.

“I think it’s great that you and Phoebe hit it off.” Lea glanced at his brother and grinned. “Didn’t I tell you they would, Ben?”

“Yep.” The grinning idiot slipped an arm around his fiancée’s waist and pulled her close. “You called it, sweetheart.”

Called it? Called what?

“Don’t look so scared.” Lea patted his arm. “Phoebe’s a great person, and she’s not looking for a relationship either. So relax and enjoy yourself for once. You deserve it.”

“Yeah, bro.” Ben nudged with his shoulder. “We don’t leave until tomorrow. Take advantage of the night. Enjoy the company of a good and giving woman.”

Good and giving.
He smirked inwardly. A rarity. Outside of Lea and Jill, and his sister, Brandi, he doubted many more of the endangered species existed.

“Thanks, but, I’m good.” He turned away, letting his brother and his brother’s well-meaning fiancée know he was done with that conversation. It would take a hell of a lot more than words for him to buy into that bullshit.

A hard sell, at least where he was concerned. He had his son. That was all that mattered. No woman was good enough for him to risk his son’s heart.

His gaze returned to the excited youngsters and shock warried through his system as he watched the beautiful Broadway star greet each fan and answer their questions with the patience of a saint. She didn’t brush the kids off or claim she was too busy. No. The amazing woman stayed and signed each and every playbook, often squatting down to greet the child at eye level.

Something twisted inside Ethan then burst open. He would’ve happily blamed the ache on indigestion, only they hadn’t eaten yet.

As the last of the fans disappeared, Phoebe turned around and smiled. Ethan tried to suck in a breath, but his chest was too tight to grant passage. The woman simply stole his breath.

The pure joy that sparkled in her eyes and flushed her face told a very clear truth. It wasn’t an act. She truly enjoyed interacting with those children.

Once again, he was grateful to have a wall at his back, because he would’ve stumbled for sure.

“Hi, guys.” She hugged Lea and Ben, then drew back. “I’m sorry that took so long. I know we need to go, but it’s just not in me to brush them off. Meeting fans is always the bright spot of my shows. Especially the young ones.”

“No worries,” Lea said. “They’ve been here chomping at the bit and so excited to get a glimpse of you. You made their night.”

Phoebe laughed. “They made mine. Always do. Their exuberance and joy is as refreshing as it is infectious.” 

“Speaking of infections.” Ben set an arm around both women and ushered them toward the door. “What do you say we get in the limo Lea ordered and meet up with the others? I’m not sure whose stomach is growling loudest.”

“Mine.” Ethan patted his rumbling gut. Being outdoors the past few days, he’d worked up an appetite. He was more than ready to eat.

“No, it was probably mine.” Phoebe laughed as they stepped outside. “I fast before a performance, so I am more than ready to eat.”

Ethan’s head jerked back at hearing her repeat his own sentiments.
Damn freaky
.

The weird continued throughout dinner and followed them back to Lea’s penthouse where they just finished dessert that Jill made. A milk chocolate confection that, as it turned out, happened to be Phoebe’s favorite kind of chocolate.

His, too.

Between discovering they both preferred red wine over white, steak over lobster, the same baseball team, football team, and even the same Bond villain, Ethan couldn’t lump their shared likes as coincidence.

“It’s fate,” Lea claimed, her voice too wispy and romantic for his sanity as she refilled his wine at the wet bar in the corner of her large living room decorated with turn of the century furniture.

“No.” He shook his head, hoping to cut off any foolish notion. “It just proves she has good taste.”

“Agreed,” Ben said from behind. “Especially considering she’s been staring at you when you’re not looking.”

Bullshit
. He glanced around his brother’s broad shoulder, and sure enough, he met her beautiful, dark gaze. She glanced away, but not before a pretty blush crept into her cheeks. He shifted his weight to his other foot and out of her line of sight. Breathing proved too difficult when he stared at her too long.

In fact, the only time he’d breathed easy tonight was when she’d excused herself to drop her purse off at her penthouse and grab a bottle of champagne she had chilling on ice.

“So, here, you might need this.”

Before he could stop him, his brother slipped a condom in his pants pocket where he kept his pocket knife.

“Always best to be prepared. I know you aren’t packin’ anything other than that knife.”

Hell no.
Sex was never on his radar. Raising his son was his focus. Satisfying his sexual needs sat way down on his list of priorities.

Until tonight.

With Tyler back in Pennsylvania safe and sound under his grandfather’s watchful eye, Ethan was free to celebrate with grownups. Well, there were times he couldn’t exactly use that term in association with his brothers. One thing was certain, though, Phoebe Weston was grownup, and he’d been sporting a hard on since he found himself seated next to the sexy actress at dinner, and the accidentally brush of her arm, rounded thigh, and side of her breast had rocked right through him.