Chapter Nine
“Okay, honey, let’s have it,” Kelvin demanded as soon as the waiter walked away.
“Have what?” Julia asked, looking from him to Randi in confusion.
Kelvin narrowed his eyes at her. “You ask the two of us to meet you for dinner. Your two closest friends and most trusted confidants. On a Friday. At six, so we have plenty of time to talk before the show. You asked Randi to leave Stephen home so we have privacy.” Kelvin leaned in. “Spill it, girl.”
“You know me way too well,” Julia said ruefully, reaching for her water glass.
“Damn right I do,” Kelvin sniffed. “So stop stalling.”
“Go on, honey,” Randi said, always the quiet voice of reason. “Talk to us.”
Not knowing how to phrase it well, or tactfully, Julia just blurted it out. “I slept with Dane last night.”
Randi’s mouth fell open. Kelvin’s eyes flew wide as he let out something resembling a high-pitched girlish squeak. Coming from a six-foot-tall African-American man, it took everything Julia had not to giggle at the sound. It would have been funny if the situation wasn’t serious.
Her gaze darted to him and she sputtered, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I thought you should know right away. Now you do.”
“Why?” Kelvin asked tersely. “Are we fired?”
“No! No, of course not,” Julia said.
“Are you worried you might be?” Randi asked.
Julia sighed. “I don’t know. It’s always a possibility, isn’t it?”
“Can’t help wishing you’d thought of that before you jumped him,” Kelvin said dryly.
“I know. I know.” Julia let her head fall into her hands.
“I mean, he’s beautiful,” Kelvin went on. “He’s seriously smokin’. I don’t blame you. If he were gay, I’d be all over him. He looks like he’d be a great lay.”
“He is,” Julia confirmed, her voice muffled by her hands. “Holy crap, he is.”
“Then I definitely wanna know more!” Randi demanded.
Julia gave them the short version of the story.
“I knew that man would cave first,” Kelvin said. He looked at Randi and said, “Every time they’re in the same room, it’s like the damn smoke alarms are gonna go off from the heat between them.”
“I felt that the night I met him,” Randi said with a nod. “The way he looked at her. He totally wanted her. It was so obvious.”
“Hooray for subtlety,” Julia said. She sipped her water again.
“So now what?” Kelvin asked. “We’re on notice?”
“No. No,” Julia insisted, shaking her head. “He swears that what happened between us has nothing to do with my job, that they’re separate things. Reminded me my contract is ironclad, and said he wouldn’t fire me regardless. He tried to reassure me. . . .” She sighed. “You know me. I just don’t trust anyone. Especially rich, charming, powerful men. But . . .” She fidgeted with her fork, flipping it in circles on the tabletop. “I think he’s sincere. I hope this won’t bite me in the ass later, but I believe him. And I also believe Tonio.”
“Tonio?” Kelvin looked confused. “What does he have to do with anything?”
“Who’s Tonio?” Randi asked.
“Head bartender,” Julia told her. “Works in the bar and lounge. He’s known Dane for a few years, he used to work over in his midtown hotel before he came to the Alexandra. I had dinner with him the other night, and I asked him about Dane. Tonio’s a good boy from Brooklyn, no bullshit. He said Dane keeps his word, that he’s not a typical rich snob, that he’s generous and fair. So . . . I believe Tonio, and I believe Dane.” She threw an apologetic look at Kelvin. “I just thought you should know . . . just in case . . . anything happens.”
“Nothing’s gonna happen, sweet pea,” Kelvin said, patting her hand. “Except you having mind-blowingly hot sex with that gorgeous piece of man candy. I’m a little jealous. But damn glad you’re finally getting some. Maybe you’ll be less cranky now.”
“Shut up, you,” Julia laughed.
Randi giggled and squeezed her friend’s hand. “It’ll be okay. Just . . . be careful.”
“Aren’t I always?” Julia asked.
“Almost always,” Kelvin retorted. “Hello, you just slept with the boss.”
Julia groaned in defeat. “I know. I’m so stupid! So goddamn stupid.” She sighed again, thinking of Dane’s beautiful blue eyes, the feel of his hard body against hers, the naughty, dirty things he’d whispered in her ear while he . . . her stomach did a little flip. “But he’s so . . .”
“Blindingly gorgeous, we know, sweetie,” Kelvin said. He leaned in, dark eyes sparkling. “So? Give us the juicier details. Three times? Goddamn, girl, spill!”
Randi leaned in too, grinning. “I’m with him. Details. Three times in one night?” She shot her friend a look of admiration. “God bless you, girl. I don’t think I’ve done that since college.”
Kelvin raised his hand for a fist bump, which Julia gave him back with a laugh.
“My girl is BACK!” he exclaimed. “Hot damn!”
“But look,” Julia said quickly, her voice lowering. “This stays between us. Only us. No one can know about this. Seriously.”
“Who am I going to tell?” Randi said, shrugging.
“Not even Stephen,” Julia said. “I’m sorry. But please.”
“Okay,” Randi said. “I don’t like keeping secrets from him, but this isn’t my secret, it’s yours.”
“You’re not the one I’m worried about.” Julia turned her eyes to her pianist. “Kel. You can’t act like you know, babe. You can’t let Dane even think you might know.”
“Girl, I’m a vault,” Kelvin sniffed. “You insult me.”
Julia arched a brow in haughty challenge and growled knowingly, “Kelvin Jones, you bitch. Promise me.”
“I’ll be good!” he cried, throwing up his hands in surrender. The two women laughed.
Dane had sent her a short, casual text that afternoon, but didn’t come to the show on Friday night— the first one he’d missed since the lounge had opened. As far as Julia knew, he hadn’t even come to the hotel at all that day. It made her curious, but she didn’t speculate on it too much. It wasn’t her business where he was. But the thought did go through her mind: Was he staying away because he’d gotten what he wanted? He’d had her, conquered her, and now he was gone?
She ran some errands on Saturday afternoon, trying to get them done quickly and stay out of the July heat. She did some quick grocery shopping and got an oil change for her car, picked up two bottles of wine, read three chapters of her latest book. But by the time she was on the train into the city at seven-fifteen that evening, she had the time to overthink, and she did. Irritated, she realized she was curious, and even slightly tense, as she wondered if Dane would show up that night.
The fact that it bothered her at all really bothered her. It was no-strings sex. They’d agreed on that. So he didn’t need to call her the next day with platitudes or sweet talk that meant nothing. But for him to be so noticeably absent from the lounge once he’d finally gotten her into bed . . . it felt like he was rubbing her nose in the fact that she’d broken her own rule. He knew how nervous she’d been about crossing that line with her boss, mixing professional with personal. Yet it was the first time he hadn’t shown up at her show since opening night. Was that merely a coincidence? She couldn’t help but wonder if it was a subtle yet unmistakable message to her. And even if it was, she was being a petulant drama queen for wondering. Breaking her own rules. Again.
By the time she reached her dressing room, she was swallowing down bruised pride, and most of all, mad at herself. If it was no-strings sex, why did she feel like this? It made no sense. She was an idiot. She and Dane were just . . . what were they now?
“Hey, boss.” Reaching over the bar, Tonio shook Dane’s hand in greeting. “How’s it goin’?”
“Great, Tonio. You?” Dane slid onto a barstool with a grin.
“It’s all good. Getcha a drink?”
“Yes. Um . . . scotch.”
“Be right back.”
As Tonio walked away, Dane let his eyes canvas the scene. Almost ten on a Saturday night, and the place was packed. The bar was crowded and noisy, and every table in the lounge was taken. He smiled with deep satisfaction. Business was good.
“Entertainment here and ready?” Dane tried to make the question sound casual. Like he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about his singer since he’d woken up Friday morning. Like he didn’t keep flashing back on their hot night together, the way she’d looked, felt, sounded . . .
He realized Tonio had said something. “I’m sorry, what?”
Tonio repeated, “I said, yeah, they’re here and ready.”
Dane opened his mouth to respond, but took in the sudden frown on Tonio’s face and followed his gaze. “Something up?”
Tonio’s thick brows furrowed. “Not sure.” He stared at a man standing alone by the booths a few seconds longer, then leaned in to speak in a low voice to Dane. “That guy along the wall, by himself? Dark hair with gray in it, shaggy looking. See him?”
“Navy shirt and jeans?” Dane offered.
“Yeah. He’s been here for the last two weeks, hasn’t missed one of their shows. Stays for both sets. Drinks nothing but ginger ale. Leaves as soon as Julia gets offstage for the night.” Tonio pitched his voice even lower, so Dane had to lean in closer to hear. “Don’t get me wrong, he hasn’t done anything suspicious, but he just . . . he sets my gut hummin’. The way he looks at Julia the whole time she sings. I dunno. Bad vibe.”
Dane’s gut churned too. “I trust your instincts, Tonio. Keep an eye on him.”
“Oh, I have been.”
“Good man. You need any backup, you say the word.” Dane looked Tonio in the eye. “That goes for this guy, or anyone else. Julia’s beautiful, she’s getting some attention in the press lately by being here . . . so if she gets any, uh, admirers that she dislikes? Handle it. Or tell me, and I’ll handle it. But I trust you.”
Tonio nodded curtly. “Done.”
The audience started applauding, and Dane turned his head to see Julia and Kelvin get onstage to start their first set. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” she said, her rich voice a caress. Dane had a flash of that voice moaning in his ear, crying out his name, and got hard right then and there. He shifted carefully in his seat.
Kelvin started playing and Julia launched into an upbeat, swinging standard. With casual ease, Dane turned to look over the crowd . . . and at the guy Tonio had singled out. The man stood in the shadows, a perfect vantage point: he could see Julia, but Julia couldn’t see him. His eyes were fixed on the redhead, just like Tonio had said. And, just like Tonio had said, something about the guy gave Dane the creeps. His jaw tightened as something he couldn’t really name surged through him. Anger? Protectiveness? Concern? Maybe all of the above.
He didn’t want to make Julia nervous, so he wouldn’t say anything. After all, it was likely nothing. The guy probably just thought Julia was hot, which she was, and liked her voice, and liked watching her perform. Hell, who didn’t? She was magic up there.
Dane turned back to the bar and took a long swallow of his drink.
“You rocked it tonight, girl,” Kelvin said from his sprawl on the couch.
“You rocked it tonight, babe,” Julia replied from her couch. Their usual post-gig banter made them both grin.
“He’s back tonight,” Kelvin said.
Julia shrugged. “I know. I saw him sitting at the bar during the first set.”
“Then at a table with two friends, it looked like, for the second set.” Kelvin slanted her a look. “Stop sulking and go talk to him.”
“I’m not sulking,” she said.
“Really? Then your imitation of someone sulking is damn good.”
She snorted and flopped back to lie down. “I’m an idiot sometimes. Sorry.”
“I know. Don’t sweat it.”
Someone knocked on the door. They looked at each other.
“Five bucks says that’s the boss,” Kelvin said, his full lips curving wickedly.
“You’re on,” Julia said, sitting up. “I bet it’s anyone but him.” She got to her feet, crossed the dressing room in a few strides, and flung open the door. Dane stood there, looking damn fine in a cornflower blue button-down shirt under a dark gray suit. The very picture of casual sophistication, as usual.
“I’ll just get my five from your wallet, sweetie,” Kelvin said with a smug grin, standing.
“Hi.” Dane’s tone and smile were friendly. “You were great tonight. But you always are.” He craned his head and added to Kelvin, “Both of you. Great sets.”
“Thanks, Boss,” Kelvin said as he rifled through Julia’s bag. Pulling out a five-dollar bill, he shoved it into his pocket with another grin as he walked to the door. “If you two would excuse me, I’m going to go have something to eat before I head home.” He glanced at Julia. “Should I order something for you?”
“You go ahead,” she said. “Don’t wait for me.”
“Mm-hmm.” Kelvin looked from one face to the other. “Okay then.” He dropped a kiss on Julia’s cheek and whispered, “Take it easy, girl!” before walking out.
Dane moved in past her. Annoyed, she closed the door behind him and stayed where she stood, hands on her hips.
“How are you?” he asked, amiable and light.
“Fine,” she said. A wave of cool detachment had washed over her and she couldn’t shake it.
He picked up on it, she could tell. His grin morphed into a slight frown. “You don’t look fine. You look . . . well, pissed.”
“I’m not.”
He paused. “Yeah, that was convincing. What’s up?”
“Nothing.” She shrugged, chastising herself to knock it off. She had no right to be annoyed at him. She knew that. But then the words came rolling out of her mouth anyway. “You weren’t here last night. I just thought that was interesting timing.”
“What does that mean?” His frown deepened.
“If you were sending some kind of message, it was received. That’s all.” Her stomach tightened and she fought to keep her features neutral.
He stared at her with open confusion. “What? What are you talking about?”
She crossed to her makeup stand and grabbed her bottle of water. “You know what I’m talking about.”
He threw his hands up as if in surrender. “Okay, I have no idea what I just walked into here. Obviously, I don’t speak fluent Shay-ese. Enlighten me.”
“You’ve been at every single show I’ve done since opening night,” she said in a heated rush. “You didn’t have to do that, but you did. Now I know why. It was a tactic, a ploy. Because as soon as you got me into bed, look at that! Nowhere to be seen.”
He gaped at her openly, unable to hide his shock and consternation. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
She paused for a second. Uh oh. Shit. Cornered, she said, “Am I wrong?”
“Dead wrong!” he sputtered. “I wasn’t trying to—I didn’t not show up because—holy shit.” He raked his hands through his hair, eyes flashing with anger. “I like you, Julia. But I don’t owe you, or anyone else, any explanations for my whereabouts. Ever.”
“I know that.” She shot it back hotly, but she cringed inside. He had every right to spit at her like that, and she knew it. Mad at herself, she jerked the bottle cap open and downed some water.
A muscle jumped in his jaw. “I’ll tell you where I was anyway, because you obviously need to hear it. So I’ll tell you. This time.”
“No.” She felt her face heat and winced. “Just forget it.”
He ignored her. “I was out on Long Island last night. At my father’s, at a family party. It was my nephew’s birthday, and mine’s next week, so we do a joint birthday dinner every year. That’s where I was last night. I went out there yesterday morning so I could spend the day at the beach with my sister, then we had the party.”
Julia felt the color drain from her face. Oh crap. “Dane—”
“I was tired, so I slept at my sister’s,” he continued, stepping toward her as he went on. His blue eyes glittered dangerously. “I slept late, had brunch with her, and got back to the city around three. Then I went to the gym—”
“Dane, stop.”
“—I went to the gym”—his voice rose as he barreled on—“then took a shower and changed, had dinner, and got to the hotel around seven. I checked in with different people to see how things were going, and got here at ten.” He was only inches away from her now, and his tension was palpable. She could feel heat coming off his body, but stood her ground as he stared at her. “I was looking forward to seeing you. This sucks.”
She winced again but said, “I made assumptions and I was obviously wrong. I’m sorry.”
“Damn right you did.” His mouth tightened, and it was obvious he was taking pains to reel himself back to a calm place.
She said nothing. What else could she say now?
He searched her face, stretching out the moment. She almost squirmed under his searing gaze. “I’ve treated you with nothing but decency from the moment I met you,” he said. “Why are you always so quick to think the worst of me?”
Her stomach flipped and her heart sank a little.
“I know, you told me. You don’t trust anyone.” He shook his head slowly. “It was fun the other night. Really, really hot, and fun. And we were relaxed, in between rounds, you know? I thought that showed you that I . . .” His voice trailed off and he took a step back, his face darkening. “You know what? Forget it. My mistake.”
“Wait. Just wait. Put yourself in my shoes for a minute,” she said, maintaining her composure despite the way her stomach was desperately twisting. “You’ve been here every night. You wanted to sleep with me. You did. And then that happens to be the first night you don’t come around. It felt like a message. A snub. Come on, what would you think?” She threw up her hands. “Sorry. That’s where my mind went.”
“I’d think maybe you had plans,” he said, low and tight. “I’d think maybe you had a life outside this place. Which I do. A very full life. And I don’t answer to anyone.”
She stiffened at the rebuke. Her throat closed with embarrassment. Unable to speak, furious with herself for what she’d done, how she’d lost her cool and played into the jealous shrew stereotype, she turned her back to him. She leaned her hands against her makeup counter at the vanity, but kept her head high. Clearing her throat, she said, “Again. I’m sorry. I was out of line, and I was wrong about why you weren’t here. I apologize. You can go now.” Only then did her eyes fall away.
She hadn’t heard him move, but his hands settled on her shoulders and turned her around. Her heart thumped as he looked into her eyes, searching, studying. Finally he said quietly, “I’m sorry too.” He stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “I just went off on you. Yes, you pissed me off, but I should’ve taken it down a notch.”
She swallowed, her throat uncomfortably dry, as he continued, “So you thought I was . . . what, thumbing my nose at you? Blowing you off? No. No way. But now that you explained what was going through your head, I understand why you thought that. I might have.” His hands slid slowly up and down her bare arms. She still wore her black sequined sheath dress, and his eyes roved over her body, apparently liking the view, before he lifted them to meet her gaze again. “Kind of like how I woke up to a note, instead of you, yesterday morning.”
Now it was her turn to be confused. “What was wrong with that?”
He paused, then said coyly, “You could’ve at least kissed me good-bye.”
Damn. Why did that make her feel awful? “You were passed out cold when I got out of the shower. I saw no need to wake you just to say good-bye. So I did what you’d suggested—I went and got a room of my own, here at the hotel. Passed right out. Slept ’til almost noon.”
“Good for you. I slept like a rock. Bet you did too. It was a hell of a night.” His eyes softened as they roamed over her face. “Okay, Julia. Truce. Yes?”
“Yes,” she said. Relief washed through her and she tried to swallow down whatever it was that still had her heart thumping against her ribs. “I don’t know what came over me. I’m an idiot.”
“Far from it. You do still look tense, though.” His blues took on a devilish glint. “Maybe I need to just kiss you hello and find a way to make you relax.” He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers, slowly, teasing. “C’mere,” he whispered as his hand cupped the back of her neck. He kissed her once, twice, then longer and deeper the third time. Long and deep enough to bring that tiny whimper of submission he’d come to adore. “You missed me, didn’t you,” he murmured in a taunt against her mouth. “I think you did, Red.”
“In your dreams,” she whispered back, but her arms snaked around his neck so she could tangle her hands in his hair to hold him close. She loved playing with his curls. They were soft and springy and adorable and sexy, all at the same time. “So what’s your idea to make me relax? A massage in your spa?”
His eyes sparkled and his grin turned wicked. “Not even close.” He untangled himself from the embrace to go to the door and flip the lock, then strode back to her.
She arched a brow. “Locking the door?”
“Don’t want to be interrupted while I’m helping you relax. Relaxing is serious business.” He took off his jacket and laid it over the back of her vanity chair, still grinning dangerously. “Come here, Red.” He held out his hand.
She couldn’t help feeling like this was making a deal with the devil, or something like it. But damn, he was so sexy. Why fight it? She slipped her hand into his.
He pulled her to one of the sofas and nudged her to sit down. Within seconds, he was next to her, kissing her, then easing her back to lie down and shifting to lie on top of her. They kissed hungrily, the fiery passion between them sparking in an instant. As the kisses deepened, making heat flood through her, her mind blurred as need filled her and sharpened.
“Relaxed yet?” he whispered against her lips.
“Nope. Keep trying, though,” she teased. “I’m a tough nut to crack.”
He chuckled. “Understatement of the year.” Then he took her mouth in a possessive crush of a kiss.
As they kissed, she let her fingers slip through the longer curls at the back of his neck, returning his kisses with the same enthusiasm he exerted. Damn, he was so good at it. She could have kissed him forever. But when she whimpered into his mouth, he pulled his lips away to trail them sensually along her throat.
“Relaxed yet?” he murmured against her skin.
“Getting there,” she said. Her fingers left his hair to trail gently down his broad back. “I don’t know, though . . . you might have to work a little harder. I was pretty tense before.”
He looked up at her, eyes dancing, as his low, sexy voice rumbled, “Challenge accepted.”
Her stomach flipped with anticipation and her heart skittered as she wondered what he had in store for her. Something told her it would be delicious.
Later that night, Dane stared at the ceiling in the bedroom of his Tribeca apartment as his mind spun and whirled. He couldn’t sleep, not with so many questions and thoughts in his head. Not with that gorgeous redhead consuming him.
He’d gotten Julia to relax, all right. He’d seduced her right there in her dressing room, and they’d both loved every second of it. After teasing her for a while, he’d simply hiked up her dress and gone down on her, shocking her at first. For about five seconds. But then the tigress in her enjoyed the ride. He could still feel her fingers fisting in his hair, holding his head as his mouth brought her to orgasm three glorious times. He could still hear her muffled moans, then how she’d shoved her own fist in her mouth to keep from screaming out her passion to anyone in the lounge who might hear. He’d been so aroused by her response that he was rock-hard and ready to explode. “I need you now,” he’d told her roughly.
Still gasping for air, Julia had sat up, pulled him back up to the sofa, and opened his pants. As soon as the condom was on, she’d straddled him and ridden him until he came, groaning her name into her full breasts as he’d held her tightly against him.
But she wouldn’t come up to his suite with him after. They’d lain together for a few minutes, catching their breath in content silence . . . then she’d slipped out of his arms and into the adjoining bathroom. He’d realized she was cleaning up and changing into her street clothes to head back to Long Island. Buttoning up his shirt, he’d joined her in the tiny bathroom. As he washed his hands and face, a silence had settled over them. He’d straightened to dry his face with the towel and marveled at her. She’d stood there in her lacy peach bra and panties like a goddamn Greek goddess, totally without self-consciousness. His eyes couldn’t help but rest on the swell of her huge breasts, pushed up in the cups of the bra. He could have feasted on them for a week.
“Stay in my suite tonight,” he’d said as he tucked his shirt into his pants.
“Not necessary, but thanks for the offer,” she’d said.
He had been taken aback, but played it cool. “Any time. Standing offer, you know.”
She’d smiled and looked away, back into the mirror to fix her hair. He had gone back out to the dressing room and drunk down a bottle of water as he’d waited for her to emerge.
“You can stay here,” he’d said again as they had prepared to leave the dressing room. “At the hotel. It’s two in the morning. Take a room. You must be tired. . . .”
“Thanks, but I’m pretty wired right now, actually,” she’d said with a sultry smile. “Red-hot dressing room sex. Who’d have thunk it?”
He wasn’t going to beg her to stay, for God’s sake. She’d wanted to go, of course she could go. No strings. So he’d pulled her in and given her a long kiss instead. “At least let me call you a car. You need to get home safely. It’s 2:00 A.M., Julia.”
She’d cocked her head and considered. “You know what? That’s actually a nice idea. Yes. That, I’ll let you do. But I’ll pay for it.”
“No way. It’s on me. I’m pulling rank.” He’d winked, then held her face in his hands and kissed her once more. “Go get a drink at the bar. I’ll stay here and make the call, then come out in a few minutes so we’re not seen coming out of your dressing room together. A car’ll be waiting outside, at the side door, in about ten minutes. Okay?”
“Sounds like a plan,” she’d said with a playful grin. “Thanks, Boss.”
Again, he’d stared at her. He loved looking at her. And while he’d gotten used to seeing her all dressed up and sexed up in fancy dresses onstage, right then she’d looked . . . adorable. In her simple pale yellow sundress and multicolored wedge sandals, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail, she’d kind of glowed. Her cheeks had still had a rosy flush that showed she’d very much enjoyed her time with him. God, he had too. He’d dropped one last kiss on her forehead and said, “Good night, beautiful. Sleep well.”
Her hand had raised to touch his face for a second, and there had been something in her eyes . . . then it was gone as soon as he’d glimpsed it. She’d grinned, patted his cheek, and strode past him out the door without a look back. Sassy vixen, that woman.
But now, as he lay in bed in the dark, his mind was grinding away, not letting him sink into sleep.
First of all, it bothered him that she wouldn’t stay the night with him. Not only that, but she very obviously wanted to leave. She’d left the last time too. He’d never seen a woman flee the scene as quickly as Julia did. In his experience, women always wanted to snuggle after, and talk . . . well, okay, fine. This was a woman who apparently didn’t go for postcoital tenderness of any kind. He liked the postsex cuddling; she didn’t. Or, if she did, she wasn’t having it with him. It ate at him a little bit. Just a little bit. But that bothered him, because he didn’t know why it ate at him.
Then there was the way she completely and willingly lost control during sex. It was mind-blowing. It was the only time he ever saw her allow herself to lose control, to surrender to her senses, to stop thinking, and just feel. And hot damn, did she. When he went down on her, she’d given in gladly. She let herself melt, let him take over, let herself drown in it . . . even now, he started getting aroused thinking of her. Julia lost in the throes of passion was the hottest goddamn thing he’d ever seen and heard.
He loved how she let all her inhibitions go, how she really enjoyed it—and that she wanted him to enjoy it too. When Julia had sex, it wasn’t a selfish act; she gave as good as she got, and it obviously turned her on to do so. It gave him a tiny window into the hot-blooded woman she tried to hold back most of the time, unless she was onstage. There was a raging fire burning under her cool, tough exterior, and it fascinated him. He wished she’d release that passion in places other than the stage or in bed. That she could loosen up across the board. That she could let herself be . . . lighter.
He enjoyed life. But she saw life as a fight, something to get through and survive day-to-day. Something or someone had obviously hurt her enough to make her feel that way. And that made him sad for her. He wanted her to have some fun once in a while, and hoped she was at least having fun with him.
What wasn’t fun, however, was what she’d said when he first got to her dressing room that night. Ho-ly shit, Ms. Tough-As-Nails had thought he’d been playing her by purposely not coming to the lounge once he’d slept with her, like a proclamation of triumph over her or something. He hadn’t expected that. He’d been floored by her attitude . . . which really, once he thought about it, wasn’t about anger. That was a front. She’d been hurt by the perceived slight. He felt bad that she’d thought that of him, and been wounded by it. Even if she’d done it to herself, with him not lifting a finger, he felt guilty for it. Guilty enough that he’d snapped back at her, and he wasn’t proud of that.
But there was one thing that bothered him the most, the little thing he’d seen that had surprised him and wouldn’t let go . . . the more he thought about it, the more he realized it was making his wheels spin. He flipped onto his side, punched the pillow to fluff it up, and sighed as he stared toward the wide windows.
Dane had been with a lot of women. That went without saying. He’d had the pleasure of bedding women of all ages, from all walks of life. Julia was the oldest he’d been with, but only by two years. He’d been with women in their late thirties. He’d been with a few very sexy divorced women who were mothers. Hell, in his opinion, in bed they were the hottest of all. They were more comfortable in their own skin, knew what they were doing and what they wanted. Truth be told, he’d enjoyed his encounters with those ladies the most.
The first night he was with Julia, all their sex had taken place in the dark. Not because she was shy, but simply because they’d been too busy grabbing at each other to take time to turn on a light. But tonight, when he’d hiked her dress up in her dressing room, the lights were on. He could finally really look at her voluptuous body, take in and memorize her curves with his hungry eyes. And he knew what he’d seen. They were faint, the palest silver, but they were absolutely there on her lower abdomen: stretch marks. At some point in her life, Julia had been pregnant. And if she hadn’t given birth, she had been far along enough in the pregnancy to leave stretch marks.
She’d never mentioned any children. She’d told him she was divorced, but that was the extent of her divulging any details about her past relationships. She was, or had been, a mother.
Now, Dane found himself wanting to ask her a hundred new questions that were none of his damn business. Curiosity gnawed at his insides. Because Julia interested him. He had grown to genuinely like her, on top of lusting for her constantly like a damn horny teenager. She was sharp, had a wicked wit, and was so damn smart. But the more he got to know Julia Shay, the more he realized there was so much about her he didn’t know. And that she worked very hard to keep it that way.
He wanted to know why. What had happened? Where was her child? Had something horrible, unthinkable, happened to the kid—was that the loss she’d talked about? Was that why she’d gotten a divorce?
And most of all . . . why did he care? That question burned hottest of all, searing and poking at him. Why did he want, almost need, to know what had happened in her past? Why did he want to figure her out so badly that he was inches away from calling his private investigator to find out everything he could about Julia Shay?
He wouldn’t, of course. He respected her too much for that. Besides, that wasn’t who he was. Tempted as he was, he wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if she ever found out he’d done it, especially after he’d promised her he never would. No. That wasn’t the way to go.
He sighed, flipped onto his other side, and closed his eyes to try to get some sleep.
Maybe one day, he’d find a way to get her to tell him all those things on her own.
Maybe he needed to figure out why the hell this was keeping him up at night. No strings meant he wasn’t supposed to care. It was just fun, hot sex. Right?
Dane flipped questions in his mind for a long time before finally falling asleep.