“Your hair is smooth like silk.”

Alana closed her eyes and leaned her head back. Mitchell sat behind her on the bed, his fingers stroking through her hair, untangling what she knew would be an unruly mess.

“Should I use the brush?” His breath whispered over her neck, and she shivered.

She’d been breathless and wordless and mindless all day. She could only nod.

The brush smoothed her hair in soft, caressing strokes. Occasionally, Mitchell would hit a snag, suck in a breath, then treat her like she had tiny strands of glass growing from her scalp.

“Don’t worry about being gentle. You’ll be sitting there for hours trying to get the knots out if you do.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He pulled her hair to the side and placed a scorching kiss at the base of her neck.

“You won’t,” she whispered.

Not physically, anyway.

The only way he would hurt her was emotionally, and the more time they spent together, the more she knew she wouldn’t be left unscathed.

He’d doted on her since they made love. First, he’d charmed one of the maids into cleaning up the mess in the bedroom, tipping her with an amount that made the lady gush. He then ordered a second breakfast and fed Alana by hand, teasing and seducing her all over again with bites of food in between soft kisses. With her limited sight, she hadn’t known what would come next, the pancakes that melted in her mouth, or the hot lips of a man she was starting to fall for.

“You guys ready to go?”

Alana glanced toward Blake’s voice and smiled.

“Ahh, I think so,” Mitchell answered. “Does her hair look good?”

Blake sniggered. “She looks hot.”

“Not the answer I was looking for,” Mitchell muttered.

She raised her hand for the brush. “I’m sure it’s fine. I’m not going to be center of attention anyway.”

She still didn’t know how Mitchell had talked her into going along to the interview. Actually, that was a lie. He’d seduced the agreement from her. When their second breakfast arrived, so had a pile of clothes, underwear, her necessary eye drops, and hygiene products. All for her. All from him. Tears had stung her eyes at his thoughtfulness. But it was the way he paid delicate attention to her in the shower that convinced her to go along with him to the radio station.

No matter how much she protested the ability to wash herself, he didn’t listen. He’d led her into the warmth of the water and caressed her skin with soap, his large palms traveling over every inch of her body. On more than one occasion her thigh rubbed against the hardness of his erection, yet he never acknowledged his arousal. He devoted himself to taking care of her, and her heart attached a little more to him with each stroke against her flesh.

“Let’s get going, then.” Mitchell grasped her hand and led her from the suite.

A flurry of excitement met them in the lobby. People greeted Mitchell and Blake, fans screamed in the distance—too far away to be inside the hotel—and security guards mumbled instructions on where to walk.

The noise hammered at her, making her chest throb, her palms sweat. “Mitchell, I can’t do this.”

He squeezed her hand. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. We’re almost there.”

They walked fast, and she struggled to keep up. Dark shadows blurred her vision, making her cling onto his waist for support. Any moment she expected to trip on someone or something and slide gracelessly along the lobby floor on her face.

“The coast is clear, sugar. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” Blake patted her on the shoulder, his support giving her a needed dose of comfort.

The room became brighter with each step, the shadows standing out against the glow. Footsteps surrounded them, sliding doors opened and closed, the hum of an engine, and still the guards instructed them. Let me lead the way. The car is just outside. You take the passenger seat, Mitch and the woman in the back.

Her blood thickened with each beat, cutting off her oxygen, making it hard to breathe.

“Lower your head, Allie, and climb in.”

She did as instructed, following Mitchell into the vehicle and sliding along the back seat to sit beside him.

Nobody spoke during the ride. The soft murmur of the radio and the occasional click, click, click of the indicator was the only noise to break the silence. She leaned into him, catching her breath, and tried not to rub her leg against Tony, the bodyguard, who sat on the other side of her.

“Not long and we’ll be there,” Mitchell whispered, nuzzling behind her ear.

She smiled and squeezed his hand.

“Are you still happy to have a coffee downstairs by yourself?”

“Yes. I’ll be fine.” Alana refused to be a distraction, stating she would remain in the car if need be. The compromise, suggested by Tony, was for her to wait in the coffee shop on the ground floor until the fifteen-minute interview had concluded.

Mitchell, and even Blake, had protested, but Alana wouldn’t agree to come otherwise. She could sit by herself, drink a coffee, and listen to the chatter of mingling people for the short amount of time. If she encountered a problem, she’d ask a waitress for help.

“I’ll get out first.” Tony’s deep voice startled her, kicking her heart rate back into unwelcomed territory.

“No arguments here,” Blake replied. “When it comes to fans, I’d much prefer to have them groping you than me.”

“Do they really grope?” Alana murmured into Mitchell’s shoulder.

He chuckled. “Unfortunately, they grab anything they can get their hands on.”

She cringed. “Maybe I’ll stay in the car until Tony can come back and get me.”

He released her hand and stroked her shoulders, pulling her closer into his body. “I won’t let anything happen to you…again.” The regret in his voice was palpable.

“OK, here we go.” The car came to a stop and Tony climbed out, letting in a wave of screams before he slammed the door shut.

“There’s nothing to worry about, sugar,” Blake reassured her. “We’re at the back entrance to the building, and there are only a few people at the doors. Security already has it under control.”

A few people? She wasn’t deaf. Instead of alerting him to the fact she heard half of Richmond releasing their siren calls at the car, she nodded and swallowed the bile rising in her throat. “All right.”

Blake’s door opened, then Mitchell’s. “I’ve got you.” He gripped her hand and led her from the car. “Once we get inside and meet the rest of the guys, Tony will get you settled in the coffee shop.”

She tripped up the curb, once again along the path, and sighed in relief once they passed the wailing crowd and entered the relative safety of the building.

“Easy as groupies on a gig night, wasn’t it, Al?”

She cringed at the analogy, but couldn’t help smiling. “Yeah. As easy as I assume groupies are on those types of occasions, I would have to agree.”

“Mitch?” A female voice called, and Alana swallowed involuntarily. “Are you guys ready to head upstairs?”

“Yeah, but first I want you to meet someone. Leah, this is Alana. Allie, this is our awesomely talented band manager, Leah.”

“Nice to meet you.” Alana raised her hand to the shadow in front of her and hoped for the best. There was an uncomfortable pause that caused the hair on the back of her neck to rise, and a soft hand gripped hers in a firm shake. They were communicating behind her back…well probably right in front of her eyes. She sensed it.

“You…too, Alana.” Leah’s words were stilted.

“There was a problem last night with the ass cake you fired. He threw a glass vase that shattered in Alana’s face. At the moment, she can’t see.”

“What?” Leah gasped. “Why wasn’t I told? I need to be informed of these things, Mitch.”

“It’s fine. Settle down. She’s here so I can keep an eye on her. I’ve been taking care of her to make up for the position I put her in.”

Alana hid her disappointment behind a smile as the two of them spoke. His words ripped the happiness from her lungs. Was that what he’d been doing? Taking care of her to make up for what happened? If that was the case, he needn’t have worried.

“I’ve gotta go.” Mitchell kissed her temple.

She pressed her lips together to contain her emotion, even though her wounded pride urged her to jerk away. “Bye.” She gave a half-hearted wave.

His heat continued to surround her moments later when the blur of shadows around them faded into the background. Tight hands gripped her shoulders and the darkened haze of his face filled her vision. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head, not wanting to open her mouth. If she spoke, she would tell him to drop the knight in shining armor act and call Kate to pick her up.

“We met less than twenty-four hours ago, and yet I can already sense when something is wrong. Please tell me, otherwise I won’t be able to concentrate in the interview, and I’ll make a dick of myself.”

For a second, her lips twitched in humor, but then she remembered why she’d been upset. “Has everything between us been about obligation? The sex, the clothes, the shower? Were you doing it because you thought you needed to?” Her voice broke on the final word, and she scrunched her nose, fighting back the unwelcome emotions determined to break free.

A quick, firm kiss landed on her lips, startling her. “I’ve told you before; I say stupid shit around you because you make me lose focus. I didn’t mean it to sound that way.” His mouth caressed hers again. This time softer, sweeter. “I’m sorry. Once this is over, I think everyone will be coming back to the hotel for a few drinks. Hopefully by then, I’ll be able to relax a little and my foot won’t be in my mouth as much.”

Alana tilted her face to steal another kiss. “OK.” She wasn’t convinced, but she wouldn’t be a drama queen and call him a liar either. At the moment, she had time up her sleeve, and spending a little more with Mitchell wouldn’t be a chore. She just hoped for her heart’s sake he was telling the truth.

“You ready to grab a coffee?” Tony’s voice came from beside her, and Mitchell’s heat left her body. A momentary wash of apprehension nudged her senses at the thought of being led around by another unfamiliar man, but she suppressed the judgments her mother had tried to instill in her. Mitchell, Blake, and even the optometrist’s son had shown her only kindness. She would do her best to trust Tony, too.

“Definitely.” Coffee would be her savior. A great big bucket full.

A hand grabbed hers and laid it to rest at the crook of a large arm. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you get settled.” Tony led her forward, taking slow steps so she could keep up.

“I’ll see you later, sweetheart.” Mitchell’s voice drifted away along with the sound of his footsteps.

Tony walked her to the coffee shop in silence, only pausing for a moment to open the door. Inside, the noise spiked her anxiety. Voices melded together, some in hushed tones, others loud and obnoxious. The coffee machine hissed, cutlery clattered, footsteps sounded, and bells rang. She had to close her eyes and trust his guidance while she tried to calm herself with steadying breaths.

He patted her hand in reassurance. “Here, sugar, I’ve got a seat for you.” He grabbed her fingers and draped them over the back of a chair.

“Thank you.” She felt for the table, then the seat to gain her bearings before she sat down.

“You’re right up against a wall, only a few rows back from the cashier.”

She nodded. At least if she had any trouble, she knew where to turn for help. She would be fine, though. Once she had a coffee in hand, she could relax and simply sit and think. Maybe even relive some of the seductive memories from earlier.

“What would you like me to order for you?”

“A cappuccino with two sugars, please.” She reached for the money in her pocket and pulled out a note.

“Are you sure that’s all you want?” he asked, his voice gruff, but deeply caring. “Don’t women usually want the skim, soy, caramel, mocha, double decaf crappa latte stuff?”

Alana chuckled. Tony was clearly not the chatty type. She appreciated his attempt to make her comfortable. “No. I’m not a crappa latte kind of girl.”

He gave a huff of laughter and patted her hand resting on the table. “OK. A standard cappuccino it is. I’ll go order it now, but I won’t be able to wait around. I need to check the exit point and make sure my boys are all right.”

“Not a problem.” She raised the note in her hand.

“Don’t worry, sugar, Mitch already gave me a big enough bonus to take care of it. I’m starting to think he might actually like you.”

Her heart clenched, and she had no clue why. Maybe it had something to do with other people noticing his interest when she physically couldn’t see it, or that she feared he would lose interest in her within any given heartbeat. Either way, her chest did funny things at the mere thought of Mitchell.

“I’ll get them to bring the coffee to your table and ask them to keep an eye on you.”

“Thank you.”

He left without another word.

She drummed her fingers on the table, played with the saltshakers, fiddled with her hair. Time dragged. Keen vision had always been her strong suit. Not only for clarity, she also had the ability to behold things differently than other people. She found beauty in the blandest of settings. Her mother claimed it was the reason Alana’s photos sold so well.

Losing her vision cut her to the core. She wanted to see the buildings, the skyline, the hills. She itched to capture moments in time with her camera and perfect them with special effects on her computer.

Instead of allowing the melancholy to take hold, she focused on her other senses. Freshly ground coffee clogged the air and her lungs craved every breath. At home, she lived on the store bought stuff. It was drinkable, but never held the delicious scent that currently filled the room.

The noise no longer unsettled her. An elderly couple chatted in whispers to her left, their voices holding the fragility of age. Eager women near the front of the store laughed, not minding that their conversation was easily overheard.

“A cappuccino with two sugars?” A female voice came from beside her.

“Yes, thank you.” She heard the clatter of the saucer, the tinkle of the teaspoon, and then the footsteps as the woman retreated.

Alana felt for her cup and palmed the warm crockery in her hands. As she raised the mug to her lips, a shiver ran down her spine. Were people staring at her? Talking about her? She ignored the paranoia and took a sip of coffee. The hot liquid burned her tongue and scorched the back of her throat, and yet she savored every second of it. The taste was rich and creamy with a dash of sweet perfection. She didn’t need double, caramel, mocha, decaf, or whatever Tony called it. Plain and simple was divine.

Time dripped by. At the end of her drink, she reached for the cell phone in her pocket, then thought better of it. No point going in search of a clock if she couldn’t see. With a sigh, she started to fiddle. Mitchell couldn’t be too much longer.

“Excuse me.” The feminine voice came from the table to her left. Alana ignored it. “I’m sorry, miss, but my husband and I were just discussing how you look a lot like someone we used to know.”

A person’s shadow moved closer to her table and Alana sensed the words were directed at her.

“Are you from around here, dear?” It was the elderly woman who had sat at the nearby table.

“No, sorry. My mom lived here a long time ago, but this is my first visit to Richmond.” She shook her head in dismissal and lifted her coffee cup to her lips, even though it was empty.

There was a pause, a few whispered words.

“I don’t mean to pester you, but what is your mother’s name?”

Alana smiled through the discomfort of not being able to make eye contact and kept her gaze lowered. “Susan Shelton.”

A chair scraped along the floor, and a man close by cleared his throat.

She waited for a reply, stroking the sides of her coffee mug. The likelihood of anyone here knowing her mother was slim, yet her name seemed to be a conversation stopper.

“And how old are you, child?” The man’s voice came now, fragile and filled with hints of anticipation.

“Umm.” She frowned, and unease covered her skin. “I’m…twenty-seven.”

She heard a gasp, and a heady sense of foreboding clogged her throat. “Why do you ask?”

Another chair scraped. One more darkened shadow approached her table, suffocating her, making her claustrophobic.

“Child, I think you’re our granddaughter.”

* * *

Mitch sat in one of the plush chairs in the radio station’s boardroom, dodging questions about Alana as they waited to be taken into the studio. He glared at Blake, trying to think up the best retribution for the way he kept adding fuel to the fire.

“If she’s blind, what the hell have you been doing with her for the last twelve hours?” Ryan asked.

“Praying,” Blake replied with a chuckle.

Sean, Mason, Ryan, and even Leah focused on him with matching expressions of disbelief.

“Praying?” Leah’s eyes widened.

“Yeah,” Blake continued. “They had the bedroom door closed and Alana kept calling out to God and Jesus and any other spiritual leader who’d listen.”

Snorts of laughter filled the room.

Mitch remained seated, arms crossed over his chest, eyebrows raised. The smart-ass comments wouldn’t end for a while.

“I’m not sure what Mitch was doing, but their religion sounds like a lot of fun.”

“I bet it beats jerking off to the porn stash on your laptop,” Mitch shot back.

Blake smirked. “Now that you mention it, her moans of enthusiasm were a great soundtrack to my whack job.”

“You’re an ass,” Mitch snarled and glanced away, trying to suppress his laughter. The fucker always had a comeback.

“Seriously, Mitch, I hope you didn’t seduce the girl when she’s in such a vulnerable position.” Leah made it sound so sleazy. “She’ll have a great story to spin to the media once the fun and games are over. It could turn into a PR nightmare.”

Alana wasn’t the attention-seeking type, but he’d been wrong before. Women had a way of messing with his mind, especially when his dick was involved. Only this time, he was sure he knew Alana’s type. He was certain she wouldn’t run to the tabloids at the first opportunity. “I trust her.”

He did. For some strange, hormone-riddled reason, he trusted the shit out of her. “She won’t cause any trouble.”

Tony stalked past the windows of the boardroom and opened the door, breaking the fixation on Mitch’s love life.

“How is she?” he asked before Tony said a word.

Mason groaned and Mitch ignored it. He wouldn’t hide his worry over her wellbeing. He cared for her and had to admit he enjoyed her vulnerability and the way she relied on him. Her image still hadn’t left his mind, her smile, her dimples, her gorgeous light green eyes. He couldn’t wait to get downstairs to see her again.

“She was fine when I left her ten minutes ago.” Tony shrugged. “I ordered her a coffee and she seemed happy to sit there and wait.”

Mitch nodded in thanks.

“There were three guys down there checking her out. I’m sure they’ll keep her company if she gets lonely.”

Mitch pushed forward in his chair and sat up straight. “What?” He gripped the table, poised to raise to his feet when Tony’s face brightened with a smirk.

“You really like her, don’t you?” Mason asked with a chuckle. “Oh, this is going to be so much fun.”

Mitch didn’t agree. They’d all gone through it before. Ryan used to do the puppy love thing with his wife Julie. Sean still held resentment from the last woman who broke his heart, and Mitch was pretty sure the reason Blake spent a lot of time on the laptop was because of a woman too.

He didn’t bother answering. They would only twist his words into something they found humorous. Unfortunately, it was their ritual, the way they bonded, and Mitch supposed he deserved a little payback for the years of shit he’d given.

A knock came at the door, and Jenny Jay, the local radio host, poked her head inside the room. “You guys ready?”

Leah moved beside him as he pushed from his chair. “I’m going to check on Alana while you guys do your thing. I’ll try and convince her to come back up with me. That way we can leave straight after the interview and avoid any fan drama.”

“Thanks.” He ran both hands through his hair and breathed deep. “Let’s get this shit over with.”

The members of Reckless Beat followed Jenny down the hall and entered the small studio room while the bodyguards waited in the reception area. They’d done the radio gig so many times before that when Jenny ran through her spiel on how things would run on air, Mitch zoned out.

His attitude didn’t change once they were live. Mason always handled the majority of the questions. Being the lead singer, he was the one the fans loved the most. The rest of them would indicate with hand gestures if they wanted to answer something specific, and they kept Leah happy as long as they all spoke at least once.

Today, Mitch hoped his “hello” to the listeners would suffice.

“So, Mitchell—” He cringed when Jenny Jay said his name. “—the newspaper tells of another heroic scene. Apparently you came to the rescue of one of your fans last night. How does it feel to be back in the spotlight saving another beautiful woman?”

He gave an uncomfortable laugh, uncomfortable because he had no idea what the hell to say. He hadn’t seen the newspaper and could only imagine the way the assholes would’ve distorted the truth.

“Umm, good…I suppose.” There, he’d done his quota.

“I’ve been told you spent the night taking care of the female in question, rushing her to get medical attention in the early hours of the morning. Is this another case of not being able to turn down a woman in need?”

Blake snorted softly beside him, and Mitch wanted to do the same. That damn interview would haunt him for the rest of his life.

“I think the majority of people would react the same way to a woman in need. Alana was powerless to stop her injuries and unable to take care of herself afterward. I merely did the right thing.” He gave a firm nod, happy with his answer.

Jenny Jay smiled back at him before turning her next question to Ryan and the rumors of his failing marriage.

Halla-fucking-lujah. For once he hadn’t dug the hole deeper for himself.

Blake leaned toward him and covered the mic in front of them. “Boy, is Leah gonna be pissed you didn’t milk that PR opportunity for all it’s worth.”

Mitch nudged his best friend’s shoulder away and ignored the comment. Leah still owed him for the last PR nightmare. He didn’t care about their manager’s reaction, anyway. His attention rested on how he would persuade Alana to spend another night with him.

A knot formed in his chest, and he rubbed it away. He needed to hold her a little longer, to memorize her features, and hopefully score a little more prayer time too. Only problem—he didn’t think she would be easy to convince.