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

A hand came to rest on top of Alana’s, and she flinched. “I’m sorry, but you’re mistaken.” She slid her hand out from underneath the weight. “My grandparents have passed away.”

The elderly woman released a soft sob.

“Shh, shh,” the man consoled. “What’s your name?”

Alana frowned and glanced over her shoulder in the hope a waitress would rescue her. At home, she was exposed to emotionally fractured people every day. She recognized the tone of heartbreak and the fragility of loneliness. Her ability to provide comfort was taught at an early age. Only now was different. Without her sight, she didn’t think it was possible to give these people what they needed. She wasn’t in a position to soothe them. She was in a place of vulnerability, and each time they opened their mouths and addressed her as a child, the tension built inside her.

“Alana,” she replied, rubbing the tiredness from her eyes. She wished she could help them, to ease their solitude or whatever else they were dealing with. But she wasn’t the person they needed. Her mind was frazzled from the events of the last twenty-four hours. Her senses were already on high alert—from her lack of sight and the recent discovery of pleasure. Whatever they were looking for would be lost on her. She could cause more harm than good.

“What about your father, Alana?” The woman’s voice broke.

She tensed. Time for the conversation to end. She grasped for the corner of the table with both hands and pushed herself to stand. She didn’t know where she was going, or how she would get there, but she couldn’t stay. “I’m sorry. I’m not the woman you’re looking for. Now, if you would please excuse—”

The man grabbed her wrist. “Your father is our son.”

Anger boiled her blood. He had no right to touch her. No right to use his masculinity to wordlessly threaten her.

Damn it. Her mother was pouring into her thoughts like a flash flood. Her nightmares were becoming reality.

She straightened and looked in the man’s direction. She couldn’t make out his features, could only see him standing with a woman to his side.

“My father is a rapist,” she snapped and waited for the gasps.

None came.

“Child, please sit so we can discuss this,” he pleaded.

Alana frowned and clung to the table as her hands trembled. Why weren’t they shocked? Why weren’t they appalled by her admission?

She shook her head, confused, and tried not to let the sinking sensation overwhelm her. “My grandparents are dead,” she whispered. “My father was a rapist.” Those two sentences had been repeated to her as a child, over and over and over again, until finally she stopped asking about her family.

“Our son has done some regrettable things, yes. But I assure you, Alana, we are your grandparents.”

Bile rose up her throat. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t be real.

“I’m sorry.” She blinked straight ahead, unable to believe a stranger’s words over what her mother had preached to her all her life. On numb legs, she pushed her chair back and maneuvered around the table, bumping into them in her effort to flee.

“Please, Alana,” the woman choked.

She didn’t stop. With her fingers outstretched in front of her, Alana fumbled forward, colliding with tables and chairs, causing plates to rattle and people to curse. Her vision brightened with each step, leading her to the front of the store. To the sanctuary of the unknown.

“Where’s the door?” she pleaded.

A gentle hand landed at the small of her back, jolting her heart. “It’s a few feet ahead,” the elderly man answered.

She jerked from his touch. They had to be con artists. Manipulators. And with her sight impairment, she made for an easy target.

“Leave me alone.” She glared over her shoulder, hoping her gaze hit its mark.

The noise in the coffee shop lowered to hushed whispers before he spoke again. “Excuse me, sir, could you help this lady outside, please?”

Now he wanted to help her? None of this made sense.

Another chair scraped along the floor.

“No problem.” The voice was younger, more comforting than the man who’d begun to truly frighten her. Maybe her mother’s aversion was justified and all men were to be feared.

No. She shoved away the thought. Not Mitchell. Something inside her said she couldn’t turn her back on what she experienced last night. She couldn’t lessen the profound moments they’d shared.

A soft hand gripped her wrist, and she fought to hold back the terror at his touch. She’d never been so vulnerable or weak. Her mother had taught her to defend herself, how to attack an attacker. Yet right now, beside someone who sounded too old and frail to even break into a sweat, she was trembling.

“Watch your step.” The younger man led her forward into the warm breeze.

Cars zoomed by in the distance. The sound of women screaming Mason’s name and echoing chants of “Reckless Beat” came from her left. Heels clicked, men spoke, phones rang. Disorientation made her knees weak. Her throat dried. Instead of faltering, she tilted her lips in a fake smile and inclined her head to her helper. “Thank you.”

His grip dropped from her wrist. “Not a problem.”

Then he was gone. And she was left alone.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to gain her bearings. The building stood tall behind her. She could take a step back, walk herself around to another entrance, and ask for help. Or she could do what she should’ve done in the first place.

No matter how monumental last night was, being Mitchell Davies’ mistress wasn’t a role she should be playing. The morning with him had served its purpose—she’d experienced something she would never forget—and now it was time to leave before she became too attached. Once she found somewhere quiet to rest, she would call Kate and get out of here. Out of the chaos and suffocation.

She let the air seep from her lungs, pivoted on her toes, and glanced up at the dark shadow of the wall. She inched closer to the building, taking small steps so she wouldn’t trip. Reaching out, she touched the cold glass window and trailed her fingers forward. Slowly, she advanced until her hand slid off the edge and into air.

She suppressed a squeal as her steps faltered. “Goddamn it.” Vertigo threatened to drag her to her knees, but she settled into the building, bowing her head until she caught her breath.

Once the threat of tears and the pulse of dizziness subsided, she moved around the corner. Her palms grated against something rough–cement or stone, no longer glass. When the noise around her lessened, she leaned her back against the wall and slid to the ground. Her ass hit the hard cement with a painful jolt, one that felt a lot like hitting rock bottom. She closed her eyes, rested her elbows on her knees, and covered her face to ward off the nervous breakdown.

Her chest heaved, the constriction tightening with each breath. Something wasn’t right. Her mind kept going over the couple’s reactions. How they didn’t flinch when she mentioned the rape. How they remained adamant about the family connection.

What if he wasn’t a con artist, and the words he spoke were true?

She shook her head, determined to stay strong. Dropping her hands, she leaned to the side and removed her cell from her pants pocket. Kate would cheer her up. She always did. There couldn’t be much time before her friend finished work. Then they would go home together and relax over a few cocktails like they’d planned to do since last month.

She cupped the device in her hand, her heart beating harder with each second she stared at the black blur. Why hadn’t she set up the voice recognition application? She could see the dark hues of her jeans, the cream fuzz of her arm, and only a big black spot where her phone should be.

Closing her eyes, she unlocked the screen by touch. That part was easy, she’d done it a thousand times before without thought or sight. The next step would be harder. There weren’t many contacts in her address book, but she had no way of knowing where Kate’s name sat or how far to scroll to get to it.

She placed her finger in the bottom left corner, where the book icon would take her to the numbers stored. With a deep breath she started to slowly scroll, trying to recount each person listed and what size each icon made. When she reached the position she thought would be close, she pressed her screen, and pressed again where she thought the connect button would be.

Raising the phone to her ear she waited for the ring tone.

Nothing.

She lowered the phone again, lifted the device right before her eyes, and tried to see where she needed to press, but it was no use. Her sight couldn’t make out the letters. Again, she blindly pressed her screen and placed it to her ear.

She held her breath and sighed when the ringing started.

One ring, two.

“Alana.”

Shit.

“Mom?”

So close. Kate’s name sat directly above her mothers.

“What’s going on?” A hint of panic came from the other end of the line. “I got off the phone to Kate’s mom not long ago, and she told me you were on the second page of the Richmond newspaper.”

Holy crap. She’d left a life where no one knew her existence, and now she was making newspaper headlines…ones she couldn’t see.

“Umm…” Alana had nothing to say that her mom would approve of. There was no comfort, not one single word that would calm the storm that was her over-analytical mother.

“I promised you I wouldn’t call and check up on you, so Patty looked it up on the internet. We’ve been listening to the Richmond radio station, and the man spoke about you on-air, Alana. He mentioned your name.”

Mitch talked about her during his interview? Through the panic and vulnerability, her chest sparked with an emotion far more palpable than she’d ever experienced before. She wanted to ask her mother what he said, but staying on the topic wouldn’t be safe.

“How did my grandparents die, mom?”

“What? Please, Alana, the man said you were hurt, and he’d taken care of you all night. What does that mean? Are you OK? Did he hurt you?”

She couldn’t tell if her mother’s panic increased from Alana not answering the questions or because she’d mentioned her deceased grandparents. “I met an elderly couple not long ago. They tried to convince me they were my father’s parents.”

Silence.

“Mom?”

“You should come home.”

No. Apart from being visually impaired, she loved the freedom of being away from the retreat. She’d already learned a lot from her experiences. Men weren’t horrible creatures. Well, most anyway. She realized she wasn’t a lesbian, which was a bonus, and truth be told, she contemplated staying in Richmond for longer than her return flight date. Much longer.

“How did my grandparents die?” She clutched the device in her hand, praying for an honest answer.

“I don’t want to discuss this over the phone. When you get home we can sit down and talk about it.” Her mother was adamant, the previous panic overridden by determination.

“Mom…” Alana swallowed over the gravel in her throat. “Just tell me this. Are my grandparents still alive?”

She heard nothing but the rush of cars and people talking in the distance as she waited.

“I don’t know,” her mother whispered.

“You don’t know?” All the years she’d hoped for family to connect with, something outside of the secluded life on the retreat, and she’d been told they were alone. That the only person she had in her life was her mother. “You don’t know?” she repeated louder. “You told me they died. You told me since childhood that I had no family.”

“Alana, please. Come home and we can discuss it.”

Home? Home wasn’t a place surrounded with lies and deceit. Home was somewhere filled with warmth and love and honesty. And apparently, it was a place she had never visited.

“No.” She rubbed her forehead to ease the tension pounding in her head. “I don’t think I’m coming home at all.” She had her own money. Not a lot, but it would be enough to keep her in Richmond for a while and give her the opportunity to figure out what she wanted for her future. “I’ll speak to you later.”

“No! Wait.”

Her mother didn’t deserve a hearing. Alana had endured a lot because of her love for the woman who raised her. But she wouldn’t abide this. Not now. Not ever. “Bye, Mom.” She removed the phone from her ear and pressed at the screen numerous times hoping to hit the disconnect button. Now she had no way of getting in contact with Kate and didn’t know how to find Mitchell.

Fantastic.

Pushing against the wall to her feet, she shook her hands, trying to dislodge the vulnerability that caused her limbs to shake. She could do this.

A male cleared his throat a few yards away, the closest sound she’d heard since hiding around this side of the building. On alert, she snapped her head in the direction it came from.

“Alana, I’m sorry.”

She released the breath restricting her lungs. The elderly man had more determination than she anticipated.

“I didn’t realize you were visually impaired when we first approached you in the coffee shop. I didn’t mean to scare you into fleeing. I just followed you to make sure you were all right.”

“It’s fine.” She tried to smile. The man who may very well be her grandfather was her only ally in finding Mitchell or getting in contact with Kate. Thank you, fate.

In the distance, the women screamed louder, more hysterical, chanting a mass of indecipherable words. Her panic returned. Reckless Beat’s interview must be finished, and the band was probably in the lobby or leaving, causing the crowd to go wild.

“Can I help you get to where you need to be?” His voice approached.

She nodded and blindly stepped forward. Mitchell couldn’t come outside to search for her. It would be suicide…by groping. His bodyguards may even encourage him to leave and go back to the hotel without her.

She knew he cared. He’d already made that obvious. He just wouldn’t be able to roam the streets when there were screaming women and fans willing to push him to the ground in an effort to touch him.

“Yes. Please. I need to hurry.”

* * *

“Mitch, I couldn’t find her.”

Leah’s eyes held a hint of panic that seeped under his skin and kicked his heart into overdrive.

“What do you mean, you couldn’t find her? She’s in the coffee shop downstairs.”

She swallowed and shook her head. “Alana’s not there.”

He increased his pace down the radio station’s hall, and Leah struggled to keep up.

“What’s going on?” Blake asked from behind.

“Alana’s gone,” he said over his shoulder, not stopping his momentum. “I’m going to find her.”

“You can’t just walk around unattended, Mitch.” Leah grabbed his upper arm, trying to slow his progression, but he didn’t stop until he reached the elevator. “There’s a crowd outside. They’ll eat you alive.”

He smacked his fingers against the Down button and turned to face Blake’s worried expression. In the background Mason, Sean, Ryan, and Tony strode toward them, meeting up with the other two bodyguards who had been waiting in the reception area.

“What’s the rush?” Ryan stopped beside him.

“Alana’s not in the coffee shop. I don’t know where she is.”

“Maybe she got a better offer.” Mason chuckled, then wiped the smirk off his face when Mitch glared at him. “Sorry,” he mumbled and broke eye contact.

“What are you going to do?” Sean asked.

“I’m going to find her.” He turned back to the elevator and slammed his fingers into the Down button again, and again, and again.

“You can’t.” Leah’s voice rose.

“Watch me,” he snapped, and uncomfortable silence settled over them.

“Hold up, pussy-whipped.” Mason broke the discomfort. “Why don’t I get Dan and Pete—” he motioned to the two other bodyguards, “—to step outside with me, Sean, and Ryan. Building security is already out there, so the hype should be controllable.” Mason glanced at Leah as she shook her head, but he didn’t acknowledge her disapproval. “We’ll chat with the fans, sign some autographs, and keep them occupied while you, Blake, and Tony go search for her. She couldn’t have gone far walking around like Stevie Wonder.”

The elevator dinged. Mitch didn’t wait for the doors to fully open before he stepped forward and pushed them apart. “That’d help, but with or without you, I’m going to find her.”

“Settle down, Maverick, this isn’t the danger zone.” Sean smirked as he followed everyone into the elevator. “She might still be in the building.”

Mitch’s finger would get a cramp if he gave the bird every time he felt the urge. Why did everyone have to be a smartass twenty-four-seven? And why did they have to be so good at it?

“Well, his safety will definitely be in jeopardy,” Leah grumbled.

They descended in silence while his blood ran cold. Where was she? “Did you check the bathrooms?”

“Yes,” Leah replied. “I checked the bathroom stalls. I glanced outside, I double checked the lobby.”

Shit.

When the elevator dinged its arrival on ground level, he bit his lip waiting for everyone in front of him to move out.

“We’ll go do our thing,” Mason stated as a chorus of screams sounded outside. “Meet back inside in fifteen minutes.”

“I won’t be coming back until I find her,” Mitch replied and pivoted from their makeshift circle to begin the search. A firm hand grabbed his upper arm.

“We’ll meet back here in fifteen minutes and re-evaluate if you haven’t found her.” Mason looked at him in concern. “Don’t do anything stupid, Mitch. She’ll be fine.”

Mitch inclined his head, and Mason’s hand fell from his arm. “See you in fifteen minutes.”

He jogged, keeping up the steady pace as he checked every inch of the lobby, peering out every window, trekking down every hall. The woman at the information desk hadn’t seen Alana. The ladies in the female bathroom hadn’t either, and didn’t appreciate when he shoved open every stall door to double-check. Or maybe it was his presence, along with Blake and Tony, in a woman’s bathroom that pissed them off.

He didn’t care.

He had to find Alana.

Now.

The need to see her had his pulse increasing with each step. He had to make sure she was all right, that those gorgeous dimples would still greet the sound of his voice.

He pushed through the inside entrance to the coffee shop, his backup still in tow. Tony spoke to the barista while simultaneously giving death stares to anyone who came within a yard of him and Blake. Tony even held the gasping fans who begged for an autograph at bay with a firm shake of his head. The guy had a soft and gooey center, but on the outside he was one scary mo-fo.

“She left a while ago,” the lady behind the counter said with a worried look on her face. “I think there was an issue—”

“Issue?” Mitch hadn’t meant to yell. Really, he hadn’t. It was the adrenaline and fear pushing him to over-express himself.

The woman’s face fell. “I’m sorry, we were busy, and I didn’t have the opportunity to check if she needed help. She walked out the front doors while telling an elderly gentleman to leave her alone. I haven’t seen them since.”

Panic-filled thoughts flashed through Mitch’s mind. What would an old man want with Alana?

“He followed her?” Blake asked.

The woman nodded. “I think so.” She wrung her hands. “Look, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Mitch added and began to head for the front doors.

“Wait.”

He stopped and pivoted back around. Blake and Tony did the same. The woman stood on her tiptoes, glancing over their heads. “I think the lady over there was with him.”

The three of them followed her gaze. In the third table back from the window sat a woman with gray hair, her head bowed, her hands resting in front of her.

Without a backward glance he headed for her, ignoring the excited stares that followed wherever he went.

“Excuse me.” Mitch knelt beside the table, and her reddened eyes turned to face him. “Have you seen a young woman, chocolate brown hair, green eyes? She would’ve had trouble with her vision.”

The woman’s gaze became distracted with something behind him, outside the window. He began again. “I’m sorry to bother you, but—”

“Mitch.” Tony tapped him on the shoulder.

He peered up at the bodyguard, who was staring in the same direction out the window. His heart skipped a beat as he turned and moved to his feet.

There she was, bathed in a halo of sunshine, her hand clasped around the crook of an elderly man’s elbow as they walked past the coffee shop windows.

“Thank fuck for that,” Blake muttered.

Mitch held back from running to her. He didn’t mind being called pussy-whipped, or under the thumb, or whatever his friends wanted to classify him as. The thing that settled uncomfortably in his chest was the addiction clawing his insides. After only one night together, the thought of losing her had turned his limbs into shaking clumps of lead.

It wasn’t normal.

Or natural.

“Why are you so happy?” he asked over his shoulder.

Blake shrugged. “I’ve been feeling spiritual today. Was hoping to listen in on another prayer session later.”

“You’re a dick.” Mitch shook his head and took the first step forward to claim his girl. He ate up the distance, his pace quickening until finally he reached the door, yanked it open, and stood a yard before her. “Alana.”

Her head turned in his direction, her focus aimed at his face, but not directly on his eyes. A smile tilted her lips. “Mitchell.” Her voice was breathy, exactly the way he felt. She took a step away from the man at her arm and paused. “Mitchell?”

He went to her, grasped her in his arms, and held her to his chest. “Where the hell have you been?” he whispered into her hair.

She hugged his waist and squeezed tight. “There was a bit of…drama.”

“It was entirely my fault,” an aged voice informed him.

Mitch raised his gaze to the man standing directly behind her. After hearing about the issue in the coffee shop, he wanted to castrate the seemingly harmless stranger, no matter how much regret the man held in his eyes.

“No, it’s not.” Alana shook her head and pivoted from Mitch’s chest. “I was just…stunned.”

The old man’s eyes glistened with unshed tears when he looked at Mitch.

“What’s going on?” He rubbed his forehead, trying to hide his face and brush away some of his anxiety. He couldn’t wait around in the wide open for hours. They needed to leave before women with no sense of respect swarmed them.

“I don’t want to discuss it now. I’ll tell you about it later. I just want to get out of here.”

The man bowed his head in defeat.

“Mitchell, can you please get Mr. Bowen’s phone number for me?”

Mitch glanced at Mr. Bowen, who now had a hopeful smile on his face, his hands shaking as he rifled through his wallet. “Sure, sweetheart.”

“Here are my personal contact details.” Mr. Bowen shuffled forward and handed the card to him, before turning to Alana. “Rose and I would love to hear from you. Please, don’t hesitate to call at any time.”

Alana inclined her head. “I’d like that. Hopefully we can meet up again before I leave Richmond.”

Mr. Bowen reached for her hand and encased it in both of his. “We would love to, Alana. It would make us extremely happy.”

Mitch stood back and watched, entirely confused as to why an elderly man would be eager to meet up with Alana again. How did they know each other when she’d never been in Richmond before? The whole situation was doing his head in.

“It would make me happy, too.”

Her gaze lowered when the old man’s shaking hand cupped her cheek. “I’m glad to have met you.” And with that, he began to walk away, past Tony who stood a few paces behind on alert, toward the coffee shop door, which Blake held open.

Mitch stepped into her, this time raising her chin with a delicate finger so he could gaze into her eyes. “You scared me.” He placed a fleeting kiss on her lips, denying his body the full devouring it craved. “Are you all right?”

She nodded, and he kissed her again. This time when he went to pull back, she snaked her hand around his neck and held him close, deepening the kiss. Her tongue sought his, her lips moving in a heated rhythm that would soon leave him unable to walk away without readjusting his cock.

“Oh, come on!” Blake shouted. “Enough, already. This shit’s going to be all over Facebook.”

Mitch wanted to growl. Unfortunately, Blake was right. There were too many eyes on them. “We better go.”

“OK.”

Something wasn’t right in Alana’s world. Her smiles weren’t as bright, her expression less cheerful. He grabbed her arm and placed it at the crook of his elbow. “Tell me what’s wrong, and I’ll fix it.”

She let out a breath of soft laughter, but her happiness quickly faded. “Just take me back to the hotel. I’m tired.”

He supposed she would be exhausted after the excitement of the last twenty-four hours. Her body wouldn’t be used to the late nights like his. “No problem.” Once they were back in the suite he would give her time to rest. She would need it because he had no plans to let her go home with Kate tonight.