Naughty Professor - A Standalone Teacher Romance by Claire Adams (63)

Grace’s arms went around me and hugged me tightly. “I thought you still had another week before you would be home. I mean, Bleeding Heart's tour isn't finished yet, right? What happened out there on the road?”

I shrugged as she released me, reaching for the pot of liquid courage — something I would need a great deal of in the weeks to come, I imagined.

“I just... I guess I just needed to be home. I reached a point where I just couldn't do it anymore.”

She laughed and grabbed my arm lightly, rolling her eyes. “I know that's a load of crap, Nay. Sorry, but I know you way better than that. Hell, I can see it written all over your face. What did he do, and how involved were you?”

“Is it really that obvious?”

She nodded. “Uh, yeah. It is. You know how well I know you. I can tell from a mile away. No offence, Nalia, but you're easier to read than a Doctor Seuss book.”

As bad as I felt, I couldn't help chuckling a little at her comparison.

“Wow, I didn’t think I was so transparent,” I said, setting my mug down and leaning against the cabinet, the hurt from leaving Owen and the jetlag catching up with me quickly after the mild amusement from the joke disappeared.

“Well, maybe not to everyone, but you are to me,” she replied gently. “So, tell me what happened out there?”

I sighed and shook my head as I replied. “I screwed up...big time.”

“Did you screw up, or did you screw him up?”

“I screwed up. Hell, I don’t know. Maybe both. I did exactly what you don’t do on the road with famous rock musicians.”

She reached across and placed a gentle, soothing hand on my forearm. There were tears beginning to threaten her eyes. The concern of a lifelong best friend who was really more like a sister began to show through. She ached for me, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness.

“You fell in love with him, didn't you, Nay?”

I nodded, unable to say a word through the sickening sensation welling up inside my chest as tears began to roll down my cheeks.

“Oh, honey,” Grace replied softly, pulling me into a comforting hug. “I’m so sorry. Did he tell you to leave? Is that what happened?”

Surprised at the tears coursing rapidly down my cheeks, I shook my head. “No, I left because I couldn’t take being around him another day. He’s been sleeping with other women the whole time. We never said we were exclusive, but he led me to believe I was the only one. I should have known he was too good to be true! I should have known! I'm such an idiot! I can't believe I fell for him. I really can't believe it.”

“Shit, did you catch him in the act?” she asked, pulling back to look at me. I reached into my pocket of my pajama pants where my cell phone was and quickly found the picture that I had saved on my phone. I didn’t know why I had saved it, but it was there, serving as a constant reminder of what had happened. What Owen had done.

She took the phone and looked at it, glancing back up at me with confusion written plainly across her face. “This is why you left?”

I nodded. “Of course, she’s all over him,” I replied miserably. “She’s kissing him, Grace. And, that's just one girl out of how many? You should have seen them – women everywhere, just swarming over him, with their tits bared and their asses out, begging him to touch them. Those guys are just drowning in hot, available women, they really are. So how many other times has he done this? How many times did he do this without getting caught?” I motioned back to the picture on the phone again.

Grace looked at the photo a moment longer before handing back to me. “I don’t know, Nalia. Usually, I've got your back. But if this is all you have to go on, sweetie, I think you might be wrong on this one. He looks like he was caught off guard. See? His hands aren’t even touching her. It looks like she's the only one who's enjoying this kiss. It doesn't look like he's into it at all. In fact, it looks like he's trying to get himself away from her.”

I looked closely at the photo, but I was still unable to see what Grace seemed to be seeing. Instead, what I saw was betrayal. What I saw was a man that had let me believe he was different than most men in his position. What I saw was a man I couldn’t trust.

How could I live in his world with the constant worry that he was going to move onto something new, something different one day just because it was presented to him? After all, he wasn’t lacking for a constant supply of young, hot, eager women. How could I keep up with the rigors of being involved with a rock star? Just the thought scared the hell out of me.

“God, it’s almost time for lunch,” Grace announced with a sigh. “Want to go grab something to eat?”

I nodded. “I’ll go get ready,” I replied and walked back to the bedroom, turmoil churning in my gut. What if I had been wrong to leave Owen? What if I had thrown away what we had because I assumed something was going on? Ugh, I was so unbelievably confused.

Grace and I walked to our favorite place on the corner to grab some salads. As we sat and ate, I tried to catch her up on everything that had happened since the last time we’d talked. We hadn’t had much time to talk because she’d been busy working during the days and I typically did most of my work at night. So, I gave her the entire, sordid story of Owen and me. Not the easiest thing to do since I found myself fighting surges of intense emotion from time to time as I talked about him. I had loved him, and I couldn't deny that no matter how much I wished it hadn’t been true.

“I hate to say this, Nay, but I still don’t really understand why you left,” Grace remarked as we walked out of the restaurant and toward a frozen yogurt place a few blocks down, the heat driving us to something cold. “Why didn’t you at least talk to him?”

I hesitated before answering. It was a question I’d asked myself at least a hundred times. The conclusion I had come to was, “I was scared,” I admitted with a sigh, thinking of the sheer terror that had been in my heart last night as I dialed the number to Owen’s hotel room. Leaving that voicemail had been the hardest thing I had ever done, and I knew Owen was probably pissed off. Not just about my leaving, but the way I had left. I just hadn't known what else to do at the time.

“Well, I just don’t know what to tell you, Nalia,” Grace said as my phone vibrated in my pocket.

I pulled it out and frowned, not recognizing the number. I hesitated to answer it, but I pressed the green button and held it up to my ear. “Hello?”

“Nalia? This is Beth from the agency.”

“Hi, Beth,” I said, hoping that Owen hadn’t called and raised hell or done anything to prevent me from getting another position through them. I still needed to support myself, and if I got a black mark against me, I wasn't sure how I was going to do that. “What can I do for you?” I asked.

“Mr. Young’s secretary called,” she said, causing my heart to slow in my chest. “She stated that he left you a bonus check at the studio to be picked up at your convenience. He appreciates all of your hard work.”

I stood there, mouth gaped open, confused. He had given me a bonus? I had ditched them and fled in the middle of the night, yet he had given me a bonus? “I, um, thanks for letting me know, Beth,” I mumbled.

She said something about letting them know when I was ready for another assignment and then said her goodbye. I hung up the phone, shaking my head.

“What’s wrong?” Grace asked, surely puzzled by the look on my face.

“That asshole gave me a bonus,” I uttered, my voice shaking with anger. “He paid me off.”

She frowned. “And, you are pissed because?”

“I don’t want to be paid off!” I exclaimed, shoving my phone back into my pocket.

“Okay, I’m confused,” she announced. “What do you want?”

I had wanted him, his heart, all of him. I didn’t want his money. That bonus was nothing more than an insult to injury. Besides, the last thing I wanted was to risk running into him at the studio if I went to pick it up. “Damnit, I don’t want his money. I still fucking want him. But, at the same time, I don’t.”

“Hate to play Devil’s Advocate here, but you left him, remember?”

“Damnit, Grace,” I muttered, no longer wanting yogurt. I had left him, yes, but I hadn’t wanted anything else from him. My heart still ached every time I thought about him. “I’m not going to take it. I’m not taking his damned bonus.”

Grace grabbed my shoulders and forced me to look at her. “You’re insane. Take the money and forget about him. You still have to live, you know. Do I need to remind you that you're now unemployed again? What if it’s months before you find another position?”

I sighed, knowing she probably right. My car had broken down on the way back from the airport this morning, and after some fiddling with the battery, I was able to get it to limp back home and leave it in the driveway. It needed some serious work, and the extra money would go a long way toward making that happen.

“Fine,” I finally said. “I’ll go get the money.” Besides, Owen was in Florida for another few days, and my chances of running into him were non-existent if I went before he and the band got back to L.A.

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Owen

 

It was a perfect Southern Florida day, the sun high in the air with a slight breeze coming off of the ocean as Talon and I sat down at an outdoor table alongside the beach. As I looked out over the blue expanse of the ocean, my stomach started to rumble at the thought of a big breakfast.

We were actually finished with the first leg of the tour. But, for some reason, as well as all of our shows had gone, I didn’t feel like I had accomplished anything. Instead, I felt empty, the sting of Nalia’s abrupt departure still a bruise on my heart.

I hadn’t realized how much she had become part of my life until she was no longer there, and I hadn’t slept much at all since her absence. As much as I tried to ignore them, thoughts of her ran through my head so much that it was rare now to find myself thinking about anything else. Still, what could I do? What happened had happened. She made her choice, she left, and that's about all there was to it. I would simply have to accept it and get over it.

“I’m starving,” Talon remarked as he looked at the menu. “I think I could eat everything on this damn thing.”

“Well, I guess that means I’ll be fronting the bill then,” I said dryly. He gave me the middle finger, and I sighed, glad my brother was talking to me again after our “heated misunderstanding,” as Talon was calling it.

Fighting with Talon wasn’t really anything new, that’s what brothers did, but it didn’t make me feel any better about it. I had, after all, been the instigator, and it wouldn't have happened if I hadn't let my personal feelings get in the way and then taken them out on him. I was a mess — confused and unable to concentrate on anything. I wanted to snap out of it, but it just didn’t seem to be happening.

The waitress came by and we both ordered a Bloody Mary and omelets before handing our menus back to her.

“So,” Talon said, leaning back in his chair. “Half of the tour is down. Can you believe that? We've finished half of the tour. Man, it really feels like it's been just a couple of days on the road. Crazy how fast time flies by when you're having a good time.”

“No, I actually can't believe it,” I replied with a grim smile. “Not so much the tour, but in general. Back when we started out, I would have never thought we’d get this far. We’ve really had quite the run.”

“That we have, bro,” he answered as the waitress deposited our drinks onto the table. Talon picked his up and saluted it my way. “To good times.”

I picked mine up and clinked glasses with him. “Agreed.”

“This tour has been better than I imagined,” he said, “and it's been so good for all of us. Me especially, you know? This band means so much to me. I just wanted to say thank you again for keeping your promise and getting this whole thing going again.”

“No problem, little brother. It's been good for me, too.”

We each took a sip and then settled back in our chairs, the sound of the ocean filling the silence between us. Five days of rest lay ahead, and I had no idea what to do with the time. Our lives had been so hectic over the last month or so, and now that I had down time all I wanted to do was to go back out there and just start it over again. I wanted something to keep me occupied.

My only solace since Nalia had cut off any contact with me had been found in playing shows. I needed to rehearse, to sing, to write new music...anything that would keep my mind off of her and the future I kept thinking about with her. The future that wasn’t going to happen.

“Ya know, I’ve been thinking,” Talon said. “I think I’d like to have a few kids.”

“What?” I asked, turning my attention back to my brother. “Did I just hear you right?” I asked, shocked.

“I didn’t stutter.”

“Don’t you have to get married and all that shit first to be thinking about kids? Besides, you're the absolute last person I had ever expected to hear utter those words.”

Talon laughed. “I’m not gonna run out and drop little Talon bombs everywhere. But I have been thinking about it a little lately. Ya know, wondering what it would be like to have someone to come home to. As much as I love the attention we get from all the women on the road, it does get a bit old after a while. I can't help thinking about what it might be like to have something more...you know...lasting. Permanent.”

I thought about what my brother said, and once again Nalia overtook my mind. I had to force myself not to think about what it would be like to come home to her, to have kids with her. But that just wasn’t meant to be. The facts were clear — she was gone and I was sitting beside the ocean with Talon, not her.

“I want the same thing,” I admitted. “Actually, it would be pretty amazing to have that, the more I think about it. Just not so sure it’s in the cards for me.”

Touring was a blast, and so were all the perks that went along with it, but once the fans went home and the bright lights were shut off, there was nothing left but a lonely hotel room. I had filled mine with a woman I thought would stick around for those times, but apparently, I had been wrong.

I guess I couldn't blame her – we had agreed on certain things beforehand, just so that neither of us would wind up getting hurt. But I guess that hadn't been enough, because here we were. Or rather, here I was. Hurting like hell.

“Dude, what’s with the weird look?” Talon asked.

“Nothing, man, nothing. Don't worry about it.”

He laughed. “Yeah, let me guess. I bet it has to do with Nalia, doesn’t it?”

I exhaled sharply. “I just don’t understand. I thought she was, hell, I guess... I guess I thought she was the one.”

“Whoa, wait a minute. Are you serious? I knew you cared about her, but I didn’t know you were in that deep.”

I sighed, shook my head and looked out over the ocean. “She just left. Left me high and dry without an explanation.”

He swore. “I don’t know what happened with you two, but, dude, that’s fucking cold.”

“I know. And now, after everything, I don’t think she even cared about me in the first place.”

Talon burst into laughter. “Yeah, right. You’re as blind as she is. That girl loves you, man. How could you not see that?”

Narrowing my eyes, I looked at my brother. “What did you say?”

“She loves you. Trust me, dude, she is head over heels in love with you and was completely devastated when those girls were crawling all over you. That girl, she would have done anything for you.”

I grimaced. She loved me? Then why the hell had she left? Those girls, they meant nothing. Being a rock star and having girls crawling all over me was part of the gig. I had told her that, I had explained it. Just because they were coming on to me all the time didn’t mean I wanted them.

Our waitress arrived and set our food on the table, but I just looked at it, no longer ravenous like I had been when we arrived for breakfast. In fact, my appetite seemed to have disappeared altogether.

Talon leaned forward and stared at me over his omelet. “Dude, just go get her.”

“What if she doesn’t want me anymore?”

“Seriously? Dude, come on! Are you a pussy? Or are you my brother, the legendary Owen Young?”

“Fuck it, I’m going after her,” I announced looking at my watch. I could catch a flight out before noon and have a few days to coax her to come back again before the second leg of the tour would kick back up. I just needed her to at least listen to me, no matter what I had to do. I would put on a hell of a show to get her to do just that if I had to.

“So, what’s the plan? How are you gonna make this happen, bro?”

I thought about it and a smile spread across my face. “The check. She’s coming to get the check. It’s still five in the morning there. I need to catch a flight out of here.” I had sent my secretary an email to drop a pretty significant amount in the form of a bonus to Nalia, knowing she could use the money. But now, that check would turn out to be my saving grace.

“I have a plan, Talon. I have a plan.”

He grinned. “Well, what are you waiting for, bro? Go get her!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Nalia

 

I pulled up to the recording studio and put the car in park, fighting back the anxiety, apprehension, and sense of hesitation that seemed to be infecting every cell of my body like a virus. I knew Owen was on the other side of the country currently, sunning it up in Florida, but I still had a funny feeling in my chest. I couldn't explain it because there was absolutely no reason to be nervous, but for some unexplainable reason, I couldn’t shake the feeling.

“Are you going to stare at the building all day or actually go inside? Come on, sis. It's not a fire-breathing dragon, it's just a lump of concrete and steel and it happens to have a chunk of change waiting inside for you.”

I glared over at my brother before offering him a close up view of my middle finger and a snarky frown.

“Give me a break, all right?” I said.

Jackson held up his hands mockingly, a cheeky grin plastered across his face. I loved my brother, but sometimes he could really irritate me, and often, he seemed to have no clue about when humor was appropriate and when it wasn't.

Jackson wasn’t my first choice as backup. Grace had an early studio call, so she hadn't been able to come with me. Call me chicken, but for some reason, I didn’t want to show up at the place all alone. Just the thought of it had sent butterflies flapping their wings like crazy through my stomach.

So, I had called up Jackson, taken him out to brunch as a bribe and then talked him into riding with me so that I would be able to actually go inside of the studio when I got there instead of sitting in the parking lot for an hour trying to talk myself into it. As Grace had reminded me, I needed to pick up my bonus check. Or, rather, my pay-off. I felt a bitter sting of resentment biting at my insides as I thought about it.

“What’s wrong, Nay?”

I sighed, rubbing a hand over my face. “I don’t know. You remember when we used to sneak into the music room at the orphanage, and I would just stare at the piano, wanting to play but not brave enough to risk making a noise?”

“I do. I also remember the way you used to touch the keys, as if they were made of glass,” he added, a faraway look in his eyes. “I knew then that you were going to be something special. None of the other kids could ever hold a candle to what you were able to do on that piano.”

Tears threatened to fill my eyes as I continued to stare at the building. “I had such high hopes of making it in this business. I only wanted people to hear my music, you know? Is that so wrong?” I glanced over at my brother, remembering our childhood and the dreams I held that had started back then.

Pangs of regret and sorrow began working their way through my body like an invasive parasite. I had come so close to getting a foot in the door of the industry I had dreamt of for so long, but now it looked as if that would never happen. My hopes and dreams lay in tatters and ruins.

He reached over and touched my arm. “Of course not, Nalia. You're meant to be a star, and you will make it in this business. I promise you that. You just have to believe in yourself. You're so talented, and you work so hard at it; it's just a matter of time before the right person notices you. Don't give up now.”

I looked at him, giving him a soft smile. “You should have been a motivational speaker. Or maybe a therapist.”

“Well, if I was,” he said, his eyes narrowing, “I would have told you to stay far away from that d-bag rocker. Oh wait...I did tell you that. Hmm. You, however, chose not to listen. This would be where I give you the dreaded I told you so speech. But, he already broke your heart, so I’ll spare you. This time.”

My heart ached at the mention of Owen and all the feelings of what he had meant to me came rushing back. Sitting there, staring at the studio I dreaded entering, I found myself wishing things would have worked out between us just so I could prove everyone who had doubted us wrong. But, in the end, it seemed they had all been right.

Grace’s words, however, continued to haunt me. What if I had been wrong? What if I had jumped to conclusions and never gave him a chance to explain? What if Owen hadn’t been the ass I assumed he was, and, instead, was actually the exception to the rule?

“Hey. Earth to Nalia,” Jackson broke me from my trance. “How about you go get that check so we can get the hell out of here,” he suggested, his voice jolting me from my inner thoughts and self-questioning.

I nodded, pulled in a deep breath to steady myself, and opened the car door. Seconds later, I walked into the building and took the elevator up to the floor where the studios were. When the elevator doors opened, the place was eerily quiet. The lights were off, but there was still a good deal of light entering through the windows so it wasn’t dark, but it did feel a bit like a ghost town.

The secretary wasn’t at the front desk, so I stood there for a moment, looking around and trying to decide what to do. That’s when a familiar sound floated through the air — music. It faintly sounded like a piano playing.

I took one more look around before following the sound, realizing with a start that it was my song playing. This was my song! What the hell was going on?

Turning the corner, I peered down the hall and noticed a light on in a room ahead and naturally I walked toward it, hoping that someone could explain how my music was playing in the studio. If someone had recorded me unknowingly, I would fight tooth and nail to get it back. Nobody was going to be ripping off my songs. Nobody. That was my music, my talent, and I’d be damned if I was going to let anyone steal it.

I stepped in front of the doorway and gasped at the sight of rose petals scattered on the floor, the equipment in the studio had been pushed back to allow for dozens and dozens of candles to be lit along the wall, the light giving the room a soft, romantic glow. Wave after wave of surprise and wonder crashed over me.

I suddenly felt as though I should turn and leave. It seemed I had just stumbled into a proposal in the making. But, my curiosity moved me forward into the next room. I stopped and turned around in a slow circle.

Some lucky fool was going to enjoy this, even cry over the romantic gesture. Why couldn’t I be lucky like that? I hoped that they understood how precious this was and how amazing they should feel that someone cared for them enough to go all out in such a way. Still though, the thought that someone had stolen my music to do this kept the anger flickering like a fire inside me.

“Hello, Nalia.”

I spun around at the sound of the familiar voice. He stood at the door, leaning against the doorjamb with his arms crossed over his chest, dressed casually in a polo shirt and khaki shorts, with his typical converse standing out in bright red. There was no denying the man was gorgeous. And at the moment, he looked tanned, rested, and totally unlike the hot mess that I had felt like lately.

“O-Owen,” I managed to stammer. “What on earth are you doing here? Why aren’t you in Florida?”

He pushed off the jamb and walked into the room. “Well, I was, but there was something I had to take care of on this side of the country.”

I swallowed hard, anticipation building. “What was that?”

He smirked and dropped his arms. “You know, you’re insanely talented, Nalia.”

“I, um, thank you,” I said honestly, glad that someone like him thought I had talent. “That means a lot.”

“It’s not flattery – it's the truth. There’s only one problem, though.”

“A problem? What might that be?”

He smiled. “You need a chance. Everyone deserves a shot at making their dreams a reality, and I want to give you that shot. Please, Nalia, let me help you grow your talent and spread it all across the country and beyond. I just want this chance to help you make your dream come true.”

I stared at him, unable to believe what was happening. He wanted to help me become famous? That in and of itself was a dream come true. “I-I don’t understand.”

“What’s not to understand? I want to help you, Nalia,” he stated. “And all I ask for in return is that you come back on tour and help me finish it. Come to Florida with me and see this thing through. I swear, I won’t ask for anything else, and then when we're done, we can start on your album. I'll cover all the costs, of course, and give you a very handsome signing sum if you'll allow me to have the honor of adding you to the list of artists signed to my label.”

My heart hammered wildly in my chest, I thought about the possibilities he was offering me: a recording contract, a chance to do what I loved best in the world, and a chance to live out my dreams. It was too much.

“I will even offer my vocals, if you think any tracks would benefit from them,” Owen continued, the tone in his voice becoming eager. Like he felt he needed to do or say more to convince me.

That’s when it all clicked — the roses, the candles, the bonus. This was about more than Owen offering to sign me to his record label. I knew that I should stop him, that I should tell him I was excited about the opportunity, but knowing he had done all of this just to get to talk to me, for him to need me so badly was a feeling I couldn’t describe, so I drew it out a little longer. Just the thought of what could happen had my head spinning.

“Please say yes, Nalia,” he said softly.

I walked slowly across the room, closing the gap between us and trying hard not to cry. This man was giving me a chance to live my dreams, something that, just a few minutes earlier, I had thought would never happen in my lifetime. And he was looking at me like I meant something to him. More than just a recording contract. More than just an assistant on his tour.

He was looking at me with something in his eyes I recognized. Desire. How could I say anything but yes? So, I did.

“Yes,” I said, sticking out my hand. He grabbed it and pulled me close to him, our bodies suddenly pressed against each other, unleashing a whirlwind of emotions as a result. It was going to be a difficult time on the road, I just knew it – but at that second, all I could do was lose myself in the moment.

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Six Weeks Later

Owen

 

I faked air guitar as Jeremiah strummed the last bit of the song, the crowd going insane. After months on the road, I was kind of glad to see the tour draw to a close. We’d had a fantastic run, and now it was time to go home.

No more touring, no more late nights, and no more of the hassles and frustration that being on the road brought with it. We were going to take a break after tonight, perhaps a long break.

It had definitely been a wild ride, and I was beyond happy that we'd done it and pulled it off so smoothly. We were back on top, and we were all over the press and the internet. To top it off, album sales had shot up as a result. People really loved our new music, too, it seemed, even though it was a bit different from the old stuff they were used to.

For our final song, it was time for something really different.

“Thank you, Chicago!” I shouted out. “We have one more song for you tonight, and it’s a special one. But first, I need a very special person to sing it to.”

The crowd went wild with women and girls alike jumping up and down for me to pick them. Not that their enthusiasm mattered. I already had a woman in mind, the one woman who had toughed it out and gone back on the road with us.

True to my word, I had allowed her to do her job, sitting back and watching her work her magic for the last two months. During our downtime on the bus and free hours in the hotels, she and I had worked closely together on writing some new material for her album.

Despite the fact that over the past two months we had stuck to our agreement to keep things strictly professional between us, I had never felt so strongly about any woman as I had about her. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that I wanted her in my life. Nalia was my other half. She just didn’t know it yet. She had turned out to be the kind of woman who I thought couldn't exist outside of the realm of dreams – except she did exist. She was real.

In spite of what was probably expected of me, I hadn’t fallen for some wild child, rock groupie. I had fallen in love with the girl next door, the girl that had me thinking about settling down, getting married, and raising a family. I had come to understand why rockers left the music scene to have another life outside of the craziness. While the fame was kickass and the excitement and adrenaline were addictive, I had grown to prefer spending a quiet night with Nalia, going over scales for one of her beautiful songs, instead of partying or making appearances to maintain my rocker persona.

“I know I’ve kept you all waiting,” I finally said to the crowd, looking over at the wings of the stage, knowing she was standing there, “but I won’t make you wait any longer. Nalia, will you join me on stage? Everyone, welcome Ms. Nalia Dean!”

She shook her head as I motioned to her, a smile on her beautiful face. “Come on. Don’t be shy. Nalia, Nalia!” I shouted into the mic, getting the crowd behind me to chant out her name.

Finally, she walked out, embarrassment written all over her face. It was adorable. I gave her a grin and pulled her close for a tight, reassuring hug. “This is Nalia everyone. Nalia, say hi.”

“Hi,” she said into the mic shyly. The crowd started waving and shouting, and I grinned, pulling the mic back toward me. “Tonight is a very special night. It’s our last night on tour, and I thought we would end the show just a little bit differently.”

I turned toward Nalia and looked into her eyes, hoping she could see the love that was reflected in mine. It had been the hardest two months of my life keeping my distance and respecting the fact that we both needed some space to see if this was real. At least, on my end, it felt damn real. More real than anything I’d ever known. I just hoped that she felt the same way.

I nodded over her shoulder and the band struck up a song we had been working on, one that reminded me of her. “This is called ‘Beautiful Disaster,’” I said, keeping my gaze on her. She blushed under the attention, and I launched into the lyrics, singing them from my heart.

“There was a time I couldn’t tell which way was up

but then you waltzed into town,

turned my whole world upside down.

You showed me love, you showed me grace,

now every day I want to chase

the love I never knew that I was after.

All I want is this beautiful disaster

that has me acting like a fool

because I’m so in love with you.

I want to be your happy ever after.

My beautiful disaster.”

Her eyes widened, and I held onto her, hoping she understood what I was trying to say. I sang the rest of the song, never breaking eye contact with her until the last note had finished.

“Please, give me another chance,” I said softly, holding my hand over the mic. “Just one more chance, that's all I'm asking for. If you’ll give me that, I’ll give you anything.”

“Oh, Owen,” she murmured, reaching her hands up to rest on each side of my face. “This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

I beamed, leaning down to press my lips to hers. It was a sweet kiss that shook every cell in my body. I pulled back, still smiling at her, then turned to the crowd, uncovering the mic. “Well, what did ya think?”

The crowd erupted into a frenzy and I laughed, mainly because I was so damn happy. Nalia laughed, as well, and I hugged her before releasing he, kissing her on the cheek. “How about another round of applause for Nalia everyone! Oh, and by the way, she's an amazing piano player. Would you like to hear her?”

They cheered as I looked over at Jeremiah, who was already moving the keyboard in place. The guys and I had already talked about it earlier, about giving Nalia her first real chance to wow the crowd. We all knew she could do it, she just had to take that first step – and what better time than the present?

She looked shocked as the guys placed the keyboard a few feet from her. I pushed her toward it. “This is your chance,” I whispered into her ear. “Knock 'em out cold.”

“I-I can’t,” she protested as I sat her down on the stool.

I kissed her forehead, which elicited another cheer from the crowd. “You can, I promise. I know you can. Just do what you do best, and they won’t know what hit them. You're going to be awesome, babe.”

She swallowed, flexing her fingers, and I stepped back, swelling with pride as I waited for her to blow them away.

The first few notes filled the crowded venue, and the crowd immediately fell silent, Nalia’s concentration on the keys as her hands began to fly over them was mesmerizing. I closed my eyes and allowed the notes to wash over me, thinking of how damn lucky I was to have found her when I did.

She didn’t know it, but she’d saved me. She’d saved me from myself. Saved me from a lifetime of searching for something to fill a void that I now understood only she could fill.

This woman was my beautiful disaster. She’d come into my life like a whirlwind and completely rearranged everything, shown me that what I thought was a perfect life needed to a little calamity. And, it was indeed beautiful. I didn’t plan on letting her go, ever.

I watched from the edge of the stage where I had moved to so that she was front and center. She finished the last notes and for a moment, the crowd remained silent. But then they erupted into wild cheers, and I knew exactly what they were feeling. It was the awe I’d felt the first time I heard her play.

Looking stunned, she rose from the stool and bowed, her cheeks blooming with excitement. They loved her, but not even close to as much as I did.

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Nalia

 

I couldn’t believe the crowd was clapping and cheering for me. Just one little song had gotten them worked up into a frenzy. After bowing once more, I hurried off of the stage, meeting Owen on the fringe of it.

“You were amazing,” he exclaimed, wrapping me up in a big hug. “God, you astonish me. You just blow me away every time I see you perform.”

“Thank you,” I said, a little dazed at what had just happened. Had he really told me he loved me? I could feel it in his voice, and I could see it in his eyes. It had been there all along; I had just been trying to ignore it to keep myself from opening up. But there really was no denying it.

The last two months had been sheer torture to work so closely with him but to still have to maintain that distance between us as we each did our best to keep it professional. I was so tired of pretending, though, that I didn’t care. I needed him, and that was all I could think about at that moment. Rising up onto my toes, I leaned toward his ear and whispered to him, “I love you, too.”

He threaded his hand through the back of my hair and kissed me like I had never been kissed before. I pulled back and smiled. “Now, Mr. Young, I need for you to go out there, give those people an encore, but only one.”

“Why only one?” he asked, tilting his head curiously at me.

“Because we have some time to make up for. And you are mine tonight. I need you, Owen.”

He stared down at me, surprise and hope flaring in his eyes. “Are you sure? This wasn't a ploy to, I mean, I didn’t do this to make you-”

I cut him off, my fingers trailing over his cheek. “You aren’t making me do anything, Owen. Now get your ass out there so we can go.” I winked at him.

 

***

Owen grabbed my hand, pulling me out of the venue and into the waiting limo, barely shutting the door before his lips were on mine. “Oh God, Nalia,” he gasped between the kisses. “It’s been so long. So very long. I've missed you so, so badly.”

“I know,” I answered, my hands reaching under his shirt to touch his chest, groaning as his hands found my breasts. “I've missed you so much, too. I can't believe we've waited so long to do this.”

I couldn’t touch him enough; every time I did, it sent an even more powerful thrill shooting through my body. He laid me down on the seat, not caring if the driver could see us, and slid kisses down my body, inching up my black skirt in the process.

“Owen,” I managed to gasp weakly as his lips found my inner thighs, my hands finding his head. I wanted him so badly that at the moment, even I didn't care if the driver could see what was going on. Of course, he couldn’t. Owen had pressed the button for the privacy screen.

He pushed up my skirt and pulled aside my already soaked panties. A shudder of pleasure rushed through me as he tugged them off of my legs. Once they had been removed, he moved in immediately, his eager tongue beginning a gentle exploration. With each tentative probe or lick, he nearly had me jumping off the seat. I felt as if I might explode with pleasure at any moment.

“Oh God,” I moaned, clenching my fingers into his hair as he swirled his tongue around my swollen clit. “I can’t, oh God I just can't, not here, not now.”

“Shh,” he said, raising his head briefly from its position between my legs before giving me another lick. “I want to taste you, Nalia, more than anything. There's no way in hell I can do that if you’re trying to get away from me,” he said with a grin as grabbed my waist to hold me still.

I whimpered, closing my eyes as he suckled on my clit, sending small jolts of passion through my body. I moaned, gasped, and arched against his touch, every inch of me on fire for him as he worked with an almost desperate hunger. My body exploded into what felt like a thousand pieces a moment later.

He kissed me down there one more time before sliding back up my body, his hardness pressing almost violently against his pants. “As much as I would like to bury myself in you right now,” he said softly, pressing a kiss on my lips, “we're out of time, babe.”

Embarrassed that I hadn’t noticed the car had stopped, I scrambled up and straightened my skirt, my knees weak. With waves of pleasure still gushing through my veins, I tried to process what had just happened. Oral sex in the back of a limo had to be a first for me. For him…well, it didn’t matter, did it? I was going to be the only woman for him from now on.

After I was decent, Owen opened the door and helped me out, his hand on my lower back as we entered the hotel together. “I am going make love to you all night,” he whispered softly in my ear as we walked through the lobby. “I am going to make love to you until you scream my name – and then I'm going to fuck you.”

“Stop it,” I laughed, pushing him sideways, my heart light.

He flashed me a bright smile as we reached the elevator, wrapping me in his arms as soon as we were inside. “I’ve been dying to hold you for months, do you know that?”

I laid my head on his chest, enjoying the moment together. “I’ve missed you, Owen. I’ve missed us.”

“Me, too, babe,” he answered, kissing my forehead. “Me, too.”

The elevator doors opened, and we stepped out, walking hand in hand until we reached his room. He fumbled with the key and then pushed the door open so I could step through first. As soon as he shut the door, though, I stripped off my shirt and practically tore off my bra, hearing his intake of breath as it hit the floor next to him. I didn't want to waste any more time; we'd already done our fair share of that over the past few months. Arching a brow, I looked at him. “Well, aren’t you going to join me?”

“Hell yes,” he growled, reaching for the hem of his shirt. I peeled off my skirt and wet panties, stepping out of my shoes as I headed to the bathroom where a deep, stone inlaid shower awaited.

There wasn’t a moment of time wasted in turning on the shower and stepping in. By the time he stepped into the shower next to me, I was already drenched, enjoying the heat of the water pouring over me. I turned to meet his stare, drinking in the sight of him before me once again. Just being close to him would have been enough to get me worked up, but having his wet naked body so close was overwhelmingly arousing.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said softly, his eyes traveling slowly down the length of my body, his hands gliding up the sides of my hips until they came to rest cradling my face. “I can hardly believe you’re mine.” He closed the gap between us, pressing my body against his, connecting his mouth tenderly with mine.

“I am, Owen. Only yours.”

He groaned, sliding his hands back down to grip my hips, lifting me up as I squealed with laughter. My laughter was replaced with moans of pleasure as he pressed me against the stone shower wall, angling his hips to meet me and drove himself home without hesitation.

“Oh my God,” I gasped, shuddering as he filled me completely, stretching me to accommodate him.

“Hell yes,” he answered, his grip on my hips tight. “You're so fucking wet, Nalia. God, you feel good.”

I moaned and leaned down, biting his shoulder as he pounded into me, all of the time wasted over the last two months melting away in seconds. He started to pump faster and faster, and I screamed his name as an orgasm claimed me. Seconds later, I felt his throbbing cock pulsate violently inside me, the intensity of his orgasm evident on his face.

For a moment, we just stared intently at each other, the sound of the water cascading over our bodies the only sound aside from our harsh breathing. Then he laughed, lowering me to the floor. “Damn, that was quick. Amazing, but quick.”

I laughed, giving him a saucy smile. “I'm sure it'll be longer next time,” I teased as I reached for a washcloth.

“Longer and harder,” he promised, smacking my ass.

We lingered, taking time to help each other with the hard to reach places before rinsing off and shutting off the water.

“Come on,” he said, pulling a towel from the rack and handing it to me before taking one for himself. “I need to do something I’ve been thinking about for over three months.”

I arched an eyebrow. “And what might that be?” I asked.

“You’ll see,” he retorted playfully.

We quickly toweled off and walked to the bedroom together, falling into the bed with a sigh. He gathered me in his arms and pulled me against him, his warmth enveloping me. “I’m beat,” he said, his breath ruffling my wet hair. “Do you think we can stay in bed all day tomorrow?”

“We can do that, but I can’t guarantee that we would sleep,” I said with a laugh, linking our fingers together. “Is that the something you need to do?” I was deliriously happy at the moment, barely believing this was my life, that all of this could be real.

“Actually, it’s part of it.”

“What’s the rest?”

“Falling asleep with you in my arms,” he said with a yawn, placing a soft, warm kiss to my temple. “We have to make up for lost time.”

“We certainly have a lot to make up for,” I replied with a flirtatious smile.

He turned me over and brushed the hair out of my face, his eyes full of tenderness. “You know I'd give the world to keep you happy, Nalia. You're everything to me, absolutely everything.”

I traced a finger gently down the side of his face. “I don’t need the world, Owen. I just need you.”

“I can make that happen.”

“Though, a new piano wouldn't hurt my feelings, either.”

He laughed, leaned in, and pressed his lips against mine, pleasure exploding through me as we began a long, deep, passionate kiss.

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Owen

 

I sat before the guys who, for the better part of twenty years, had shared my life. Guys who probably knew more about me than I knew about myself most days. It had been a few months since we had wrapped up the tour. A tour that had been the most successful and well-received tour we'd ever done. Social media had been all abuzz with fans talking about how well we'd played, album sales had shot through the roof, and rock magazines were calling it the comeback of the decade. It would be crazy to call it quits now that we were on this high, but the reality was that all good things had to come to an end.

“I appreciate you guys making it over today. I know everyone is busy, so I’ll try to keep it quick. I’ve been giving this a lot of thought, and I know when we first decided to go on tour that it was supposed to be a long-term commitment,” I started, clasping my hands loosely in front of me.

“But, as I know you all are aware, some things have changed. And while being with you guys and jamming out these songs has been the best fucking experience of my life, I...I just feel like it’s time to take a step back and reevaluate some things. I want to turn my attention to my future, which is the record company and Nalia, of course, but I figured you guys already knew that.”

Nalia and I had been inseparable since the last concert of the tour. I would have never guessed how happy it would make me to wake up every morning and see her lying beside me with that gorgeous smile spread across her beautiful face. I was a lucky man. I loved her more than I thought was possible to love anyone, and I could not wait to make her officially mine.

“So you’re pulling out?” Jeremiah asked softly, no expression on his face.

“Yes and no. I'm saying we won’t be doing any touring. And since we're at the top, what better time for me to pull out? Better to do it now than to fade into obscurity and start putting out a string of lackluster albums because my heart isn’t in it. No, I think that now is the right time to make this move. So yeah, as amazing as it's been, it’s time for me to start a new chapter in my life.”

“Well,” Talon said, slapping his hands against his knees. “I don't know if I agree with you fully on this, bro, but I can understand why you're doing it. Touring is hard on the body and the mind, and, I never thought I'd say this, but I for one am looking forward to some downtime.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Jeremiah agreed with a shrug. “I want to do some real traveling, not the kind followed by having to do gigs every night. You know, like those guys on TV who go to the craziest places on earth. See the world before I’m too old to get out of the chair.”

“Man, I’ve been wanting to focus on writing more,” Jay added. “Having the tour be a success just puts me in a better position to do that.”

“So, you’re not all disappointed?” I asked, surprised by their responses. I had been expecting some resistance and maybe even a little resentment at least. We had poured our heart and souls into this tour — it had been a year in the making with a lot riding on its success. And a great success it had been. Naturally, I had assumed they would all want to press on and continue riding the wave of that high.

They all looked around at each other and then shook their heads, Talon giving me a grin. “Nah, man, it's been real, it's been amazing, but for now, we're good. I mean, shit, it was only a matter of time, anyway. We're all getting older. It’s time to move on to greener pastures, even though where we are right now is pretty damn comfy.

“I've been thinking of spending a year or two in Europe, actually. Maybe I’ll play some jazz. I'd like to explore the scene there and just have a bit of a change in my life. You know, see a new place, meet new people, play a different kind of music.”

“That sounds really cool, Talon,” Jeremiah remarked.

“Well, I guess that’s it then,” I announced, standing. “You’re all more than welcome to use the studio whenever you want if you want to record anything new. My studio is your studio, and you guys all know that. I've always got time for you guys, always. We're brothers, through and through, and we always will be, whether Bleeding Heart is going or not.”

Talon shot me a knowing look. “Brothers or not, before I drop by the house, I’ll make sure to call first.”

I grinned. “You do that.”

After saying our goodbyes and making plans to get together for a cookout, I walked them out to their cars and then headed back downstairs where I had left Nalia playing the piano earlier. I had asked her to come with me when I talked to the guys, but she’d refused, insisting that it should just be between them and me. I hated to admit she was right, but she had been on point about that.

Pausing in the doorway, I watched her tinker with the keys, her hands drifting over them. No matter how many times I looked at her, I couldn’t get over how beautiful she was. My heart almost seized in my chest as I thought about how close I had come to losing her. I’d been an idiot to ever think I could live without her. As impossible as I’d once thought it was, I’d become utterly grateful for every day I spent with her. And, I had never been much of a religious man, but when I held her, I knew there clearly had to be a God.

She looked up from playing and our eyes met, a loving smile spreading across her face. “Hey, you.”

“Hey,” I replied, smiling as I stepped into the room. “What are you doing there?”

She pointed to the half-written song in front of her. “Writing and playing. It’s kind of my life now, you know.”

I walked over and took a seat next to her, pressing a kiss on her cheek. “I thought I was your life.”

She laughed and patted my knee. “Now, what would give you that idea?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I do, I do. I was just teasing you,” I said with a warm smile.

She leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on my cheek.

I sighed and hugged her tightly, and then turned to look at the music. “Are you stuck?”

“Yeah, feeling pretty hopeless about it, actually,” she admitted.

I read the notes, my hands moving over the keys as I did. In terms of piano playing, I wasn’t even close to her level, but I could still play enough to write music, and as I looked over what she had already done an idea popped into my head. “What about this?” I suggested.

She listened intently, cocking her head to the side as I hummed a few bars, writing down the notes on the sheet. When I was finished she looked at the notes, playing them back on the piano a thousand times better than I had.

“That’s brilliant!” she exclaimed. “It's just what I was looking for, but couldn't quite find.”

“I still have a little somethin’ left to offer.”

“You have a lot left to offer and you know it,” she nudged me.

“You know I love you, right?”

Her expression melted as she leaned against my shoulder, the smell of her shampoo tickling my nose. “I love you, too. I hope we stay this happy until we are old and gray.”

I wrapped my arm around her waist, feeling somewhat funny about the whole getting old thing. “I hope you love me that long,” I whispered under my breath.

“I will love you until the end of time.”

“You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

“You shouldn’t have said it aloud then,” she giggled.

I laughed. “Yes, ma’am. You sure you can live with me until I’m old and gray?”

She looked up, her eyes warm and full of affection. “Absolutely. Just means I’ll have to be the one to stroke your ego when you’re old, instead of hordes of screaming women.”

I leaned down, gently brushing my lips against hers. “I don’t need the fans, the fame, or any of that as long as I have you. That’s all I need. You.”

“Just when I think you can’t blow me away anymore, you do,” she whispered.

I smiled against her lips. “Well, I hope I am able to just that for the rest of our lives, babe.”

She wound her arms around my neck, pulling me in for another deep kiss.

“God, I love your kisses. I would almost pay for those,” I joked.

“Well, you can start with that piano you promised me,” she whispered.

I grinned and tweaked her nose. “I'll buy you a warehouse full of pianos if you keep kissing me like that.”

“Deal.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

EPILOGUE

Nalia

 

“Come on, come on, where the heck is that dress?” I muttered. I tore into my closet, and eventually managed to find the little, black dress I had been looking for in the back behind my winter clothes. Crazy place for it to be, but it didn’t matter. If I didn’t hurry up, I was going to be late. Not that it was a new concept.

Throwing it on, I pulled all of the curlers from my hair and gave it a fluff, glad that I had already done my makeup. Tonight was extremely important, and I didn’t want any part of it or me to be out of place.

In the middle of all the hubbub, the doorbell rang. I rushed barefoot to it, throwing open the door to find my brother waiting impatiently in the doorway. “I’m running behind.”

“Tell me what else is new,” Jackson grumbled as he walked in, Grace was right behind him. “That’s why I picked you up last, sis.”

I rolled my eyes at him, a little too melodramatically for his liking, although Grace let out a chuckle.

“I couldn’t find my dress,” I shot back, picking up the small studs that Owen had given me for our first Christmas together. The thought made me smile, set my heart aching to see him, and sent my pulse racing.

It was rare that we spent more than a day apart, but he had been working so hard on tonight’s event that I had stayed largely out of his way for the better part of two days. He had been working feverishly to make sure the event would go off without a hitch. Besides, my apartment needed to be packed up, hence the reason I couldn’t find anything. Half of the place was already in boxes, and the other half was scattered in piles and stacks and general mountains of disorder.

I was moving in with Owen at the end of the week, a date which would mark one year of happiness for us. He had popped the question about moving in to me over dinner just a week prior, and since I already spent the majority of my time at his place anyway there didn't really seem to be any reason to continue to pay rent here.

“Come on, Nalia!” Grace shouted from the hallway, her tone bordering on agitated. Probably not because I was running behind as much as she was having to listen to Jackson go on about me running behind. When it came to Jackson, she had a rather short fuse and her moods could switch in a blink. Plus, she was ready to go. For some reason, she was more excited than I would have thought for tonight’s event. We were all excited, though.

I had cried like a baby when Owen had casually mentioned a few months before that he was putting on a black tie charity event for the local orphanage. After growing up in and out of orphanages, I had a heart for helping in that area and there were a great deal of kids growing up like I had who were going to benefit from his generosity.

The thought of my own past and the fact that he was so dedicated to helping people who were going through such hardships really made my heart swell with both pride and love. It made me even more proud to call him mine, and ever so grateful to have someone like him in my life. I wasn't sure what I'd done to deserve someone as kind and generous as Owen but, whatever it was, I thanked God for it. 

Finding my shoes, I slipped them on and grabbed my purse, adjusting my dress as I clacked down the hall until I stood before them. “How do I look?”

“Like a woman who’s making me late,” Jackson jabbed, rolling his eyes. “Come on, seriously, we are going to be late if we don't get a move on. C'mon, hustle! Let's go, let's go!”

I socked him in the shoulder as we walked out to his car. “No need to be such a grouch! We'll get there on time, take a pill. Besides, you know I’m not going to be late for Owen’s big event, as hard as he’s been working on this. He's been so stressed about every detail of this event being right for, well, for a long time now. It's really taken it out of him.”

“I’m sure you can provide him with some extra special relief,” Grace giggled from the front passenger seat eliciting a loud groan from Jackson. He had finally come around to the fact that Owen and I were a couple, but there were times I still thought my brother felt like it was going to fall apart at any moment.

Thankfully, he and Owen got along pretty well now, and I knew it was only a matter of time before my brother finally got used to the fact that I had, in fact, wrangled the wild rock star and not only locked him down, but domesticated him, as well. He'd never believed that such a thing could have been possible, but there I was – there we were.

“Do you think the mayor will come tonight?” Grace asked as she checked her reflection in the visor mirror, making sure that everything was perfectly in place and that her makeup looked as good as it had when she had left her house. “I honestly can’t believe I’m attending this event,” she said, sounding overly excited, almost like a middle school girl going to a high school party.

I eyed my friend, wondering why she was so enthusiastic. While I was blown away by some of the names that were going to be present, Grace had been in the limelight for so long that I just assumed she knew most everyone and that she’d grown used to attending events like this. Surely once you'd been to enough of these things, you'd get over them and perhaps even begin to see them as something of a chore, right? But there she was, acting like a girl heading to her first prom.

Unlike Grace, I no longer felt the need to be famous. Once upon a time, I thought that if I got myself out there that all of my dreams would come true – but recently I had come to realize that I already had everything I needed. Owen was so much more than I could have ever imagined or wished for, and I couldn’t wait to see what else our lives would hold for the future. Now that his touring days were behind him, he had really delved into his record label, signing some new talent that, in my opinion, was going to make him a great deal of money. The sky was the limit for the future.

“Wow. I don’t think the orphanage has ever looked so good,” I remarked as we pulled into the parking area.

I gazed up at the brick building with pride, admiring some of the changes that had been made thanks to my new foundation — the one I was funding with sales from my songs.

It wasn’t much yet, but I wanted to do what I could and I wanted the children that stayed there to think of this place as a home, not a jail or a place of purgatory. It had to be, above all, a place in which they could feel safe and wanted. With Owen’s help, I had started to oversee some renovations to the building and land, changes that I was really proud of. Tonight’s fundraiser would hopefully allow me to expand and help other orphanages as well.

I focused on the spotlight shining brightly on the name of the building as, below it, elegantly clad men and women ambled through the doors, heading through to the gymnasium where the event was being held. Owen and I had gone back and forth on where to hold the event. In the end, we had both finally decided that having it here where the attendees could see where their money was going was the most sensible option.

We climbed out of the car and made our way up the stairs, then headed down the hallway to the gym, which, in stark contrast to its usual simplicity, had been turned into a formal affair. A pianist was situated on stage, playing some soft music while everyone mingled. I was a little in awe of the big names in attendance, including politicians, musicians, and a few actors. Knowing my boyfriend, he had probably just gone through his Rolodex and casually pulled out names of people he thought might support our cause; he was extremely well-connected.

“I’m off to mingle!” Grace announced cheerfully as we walked through the door, immediately disappearing into the crowd. I looked at my brother and we both shook our heads. I had no idea what had gotten into my bestie, but she seemed to be very into the event.

“Do you see Owen?” I asked Jackson, surveying the attendees for the familiar face that still got my pulse racing every time I laid eyes on it.

“No, I don’t see him, but I do see food, and lots of it. Delicious, delicious food.”

I rolled my eyes. If there was one thing my brother could do, it was eat.

“Come on then, I know what you're after. Let’s get something to eat.”

I followed the path he made through the crowd over to the buffet. The spread was impressive. Definitely gourmet quality, but as suave and sophisticated as the hors de oeuvres were, I was pretty sure we would still be hitting up a fast food joint at the end of the night on the way home.

“This is a pretty sweet layout,” Jackson admitted as we stood around, nibbling on the appetizers. “Owen really pulled this off. I wasn't expecting him to go all out with the catering like this.”

“Leave it to you to judge an event based on the food,” I joked, my attention wavering as I scanned the crowd for Owen.

I spotted Talon in the distance, so I excused myself and walked over, tapping him on the shoulder. He spun around, moving with cat-like grace. As soon as he saw me, he grinned cheekily and allowed his eyes to rove up and down my figure for a few moments. I rolled my eyes, making sure he saw the gesture.

“Nalia, you look hot,” he drawled, still grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Have I told you how lucky a man my brother is?” he winked.

I gave him a once over in return. He looked rather dashing in his tux, the way it was molded to his lean frame. “You’re not looking so bad yourself,” I replied warmly. “Thank you so much for coming, Talon. It means a lot to us.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” he said, patting his pocket. “Hell, I already have my donation all written up. No way I'm not chipping my share in for such an awesome project. You guys really have done a great thing here. Respect.”

“Well, the orphanage will appreciate it, I can guarantee that. Hey, have you seen your brother around here?”

Talon laughed. “You mean the nervous wreck I passed earlier? The man is a billionaire — how the hell he can be so nervous about a charity event is beyond me. Sheesh. You'd think he'd never stood up in front of a crowd in his life before. Weird, huh?”

“I don’t know why he's be so nervous, but I better find him. Talk him down,” I sighed. “Enjoy yourself – and don't party too hard. Yet!”

“Yet!” he replied with a laugh. “That's the key word, my dear, yet!”

I walked on, wondering where Owen could be. Finally, I spotted him near the stage. “Hey, sweetheart, why are you hiding out over here?”

“Hey, babe,” he said, leaning down to kiss me. He looked drop-dead sexy in his white tux, his hair carefully styled and held in place with so much gel that I was sure it wouldn’t move even in a hurricane. “You look good enough to eat. Way tastier than any of the swanky dishes I had the catering company whip up. Kinda making me hungry,” he said with a grin.

“Later,” I promised as he pulled me to his side, wrapping an arm around my waist. “And speaking of the catering company, wow! I think it’s safe to say that this event is a success already. You did an amazing job, my love. The orphanage is going to benefit greatly from this.”

“I’m just glad I could help with something that means so much to you,” he told me, his expression tender.

I melted against him, once again finding it hard to believe how lucky I was. And believe me, it had nothing to do with the money or who Owen was professionally. I loved Owen for Owen, and would have loved him for his heart and soul had he been penniless. I was absolutely sure I would love him for the rest of my life.

“Come on, let's get things moving. We've got a schedule to stick to and we don't want to waste anyone's time. A lot of big names have come out to support this and we don't want to let 'em down,” he reminded me, tugging on my waist.

I followed him up the steps and onto the stage where the pianist was just finishing up a number. Owen nodded to him and he stood, exiting the stage as Owen moved to the front of it. As soon as he was in front of the crowd, any trace of nervousness he’d had seemed to vanish. The stage really was a place where he felt truly at home, whether in a small dive bar in front of a dozen people, or on an arena stage in front of a crowd of hundreds of thousands of people.

“Good evening!” he shouted as if he were at a concert. “And thank you all for coming tonight. This is a very special night because we're all here to honor a cause that is very dear to someone who is very dear to me. My amazing girlfriend, Ms. Nalia Dean.

“I’d like to take a moment to acknowledge all the selfless work she's done for this orphanage. Your contributions tonight will continue the progress we have been fortunate enough to make from a humble beginning and hopefully, many other orphanages in the future. I promise you that your generous contributions will make this place a safe, wonderful home for these children for many years to come.

“You're not just building a place, ladies and gentlemen. You're not just stacking bricks and cement on top of one another. No, you're building lives. Beautiful, wonderful lives, full of hope and promise for the future.”

He then looked over at me, motioning for me to join him. I put on a smile as I nervously stepped up next to him, wondering what on earth he was about to do.

“As many of you might know, Nalia is a very talented pianist, and we have been working on her album in the studio for a few months now. Would you like to hear a song from her?”

I blushed as the crowd clapped and whistled. Owen was smiling down at me, nodding in encouragement. He leaned over to whisper some encouraging words in my ear. “Show off, babe.”

Taking a deep breath, I stepped over to the piano and sat down at the keys. I launched into a new song, surprised when Owen came to stand behind me, the mic in his hand. He began to sing the lyrics. We had practiced a few times before, but his voice still brought tears to my eyes. Maybe because he was singing a song we had created together, and he sang from his heart what we created from the heart.

The crowd fell silent as I poured myself into the song. And, with the intensity of the music and the performance, coupled with Owen’s sweet voice, my heart was overwhelmed with love for him. His voice trailed off as he finished the lyrics and waited as I finished the last few notes. I simply sat there for a moment, my heart pounding in my ears as silence fell over the entire space.

Then, abruptly, the place erupted with shouts and cheers louder than I could have ever imagined. Smiling bright, I stood and glanced back, intending to prompt Owen to take a bow with me.

But he wasn’t where I had expected to see him. Instead, my eyes fell toward the floor where Owen was behind me on bended knee. In his hand, he held a small, black box. The crowd’s applause died to silence, and Owen looked up at me, smiling with tears rimming his eyes.

“Nalia Dean, no one has ever made me feel the way I do when I am with you and I don’t ever want to find out what it feels like not to have you by my side. You are the most compassionate, loving person I have ever known, and I am so damn happy to have you in my life. I love you, more than any words could ever express. So, in front of all these witnesses, I’m asking if you will make me the happiest man on the planet. Will you marry me?” He opened the black box, revealing the most exquisite ring I’d ever laid eyes on.

“Owen,” I whispered as my hand covered my mouth in surprise, tears blurring my eyes. “Yes, yes, yes, I will. A million times, yes.”

He smiled and slipped the ring on my finger before rising to gather me in his arms, kissing me and holding me tightly against him. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you so much.”

“For what?” I asked, pulling back to look at him.

“For taking a chance on me. For believing in what we could be. We are going to make a beautiful future together.”

And we did.

 

BEAUTY AND THE BILLIONAIRE

By Claire Adams

 

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

 

Copyright © 2016 Claire Adams

 

 

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

gritted my teeth and headed up the steep incline of the next block. If this place is any farther, I'll be able to see the Golden Gate Bridge, I thought.

North Beach hummed with diners on sidewalk patios, the buzz of neon signs, and lines of people waiting behind velvet ropes. The towering skyline of San Francisco blocked out the wide bay, but I could still feel the chill of the water. Wisps of fog clung to the taller buildings. Summer always brought cool ocean breezes and banks of fog to the city, and this June was no exception.

"Why did you make me wear these heels?" I whined to my friend.

Above me on the steep sidewalk, Ginny was almost even with my height. "Because they make your legs look great," she flung over her shoulder.

I inhaled the chill night breeze and smiled. My feet were killing me, but I felt loose and free for the first time in years. My little black dress clung to me like a secret power. I dressed up like that to feel that way. 

"Love that smile." A mountainous man stepped in front of us. He was at least a foot taller than my 5'6" frame and muscled like a Mack truck. His dark eyes glittered with male appreciation as he held open a velvet rope.

"Thanks." Ginny blew him a kiss as she dragged me into the swanky nightclub.

He winked at me, and my stomach skittered with excitement. Still, I grabbed Ginny's arm and stopped her in the narrow hallway by the coat check. "What are you doing? We can't afford this place."

"Who says we have to afford anything?" Ginny fluffed her short-cropped, dark curls. "You're on fire and gentlemen still like buying hot women drinks. And, just wait until they hear you sing."

"Oh, no, wait." My fingers lost strength, and I let go of my friend's arm. "We're just here to dance and have fun. In fact, I don't know how you talked me into this in the first place. I have one hundred and one things I need to be doing. Did you see my list of applications I need to complete and send?"

"Corsica, we just graduated. You're allowed to celebrate," Ginny sighed.

I crossed my arms. "Graduating is not about celebrating, it's about next steps," I said. "A bachelor's in hospitality is not going to get me a job or a place in a MBA program."

"You can study hospitality at the bar." Ginny looped both her arms through the crook of my elbow and dragged me into the dance club. "And then you're going to sing in the karaoke lounge. I know you secretly wish you'd studied music performance. You should have. Now, enjoy yourself for once. Take a night off. Just one night."

"You want me to take the whole summer off," I grumbled.

Ginny slipped into the crowd and skipped down the stairs to the dance floor. I hesitated on the top step, and suddenly he was in front of me. Even in the dark, pulsing light of the nightclub, I could see gold flecks spark in his eyes. Shocked by the burning response I felt, I dropped my eyes to his lips. He frowned at me, and I knew what he saw.

I was just some ditzy, blonde rich girl. As if I could help the color of my hair. And, I was proud of the haute couture dress I'd found secondhand at a garage sale. I took pride in how I looked. He, on the other hand, had the careless look that normally repulsed me.

Despite the generous line of those frowning lips, his square jaw was hidden by a thick beard. The arm flexed on the banister was tattooed with an intricate web of interconnected designs covering almost every inch of skin. I even saw the point of a tattoo reaching up past the neckline of his worn T-shirt. He brushed back his dark, wavy hair and swept a gaze over me.

The heat I felt melted my insides, and my brain kicked into panic mode. How could I be so attracted to this man?

His dark-brown eyes clashed with mine again, and the flare of anger made me step back. It disappeared as he stepped forward, a rueful smile on his wide lips. "You are goddamn gorgeous," he said.

"And that's a bad thing?" I flipped my hair, then cringed inside. Misfiring nerves fried my system and I defaulted to aloof.

He chuckled and brushed back the few strands of hair that I missed. His coarse fingers skimmed my bare shoulder and a fissure of electricity lit up my whole body. "It is for me. Let me guess, I'm not your type."

"I don't have a type."

"Yeah, sure, princess. Look, your friend's snagged a couple of financial district boys. Better go have a few free drinks." He took the last two steps in one stride and stopped an inch in front of me. "Maybe I'll see you around."

"I'm from Santa Cruz." It was important to put that distance between us. I had to tip my head back to meet his eyes, but my body refused to step back from him.

"Of course you are. Dammit." He shook his head and twirled one of my golden curls around his finger. "I'm there a lot for work."

"You work?"

The words were a defense mechanism. I didn't trust myself around him. His rock hard chest was only inches from my lips. If I was snobbish and horrible, he would back off and I could get myself back under control. At least, I hoped. I had never felt this knocked out of orbit before.

"Relax, princess. I was just walking by." He stepped around me and slowly let my hair slip through his fingers. Then, he shook his head again and disappeared into the nightclub crowd.

I reached Ginny and took a long sip of the martini her new friend in the gray suit handed me. She made the introductions and I smiled at the businessmen, but my eyes kept dragging to the man I'd met as if he were a magnet. I watched him shake hands with a waiter, then slip past a velvet rope and up a curving staircase.

He was the opposite of every man I had ever found attractive. Ginny often joked that my fantasies were cut from a J. Crew catalog. I liked clean-cut, clean-shaven men whose wardrobes were exclusively business casual or tailored suits. No jeans, no worn T-shirts—no matter how the soft fabric clung to his chiseled shoulders.

Tousled hair, thick beards, and tattoos did not mesh with the vision I had of my future.

Just one night off, I thought as I glanced at him again. What if, for one night, I was someone completely different?

"Come on; I want to sing."

Ginny bounced with excitement and grabbed my hand. We waved goodbye to the businessmen as she dragged me across the corner of the crowded dance floor to the arched doorway on the other side of the club.

"Wait, who was that guy you were talking to?" Ginny stopped with one hand on the doors.

"What? Nobody."

She fixed narrowed eyes on my face. "It didn't look like nobody. He looked like a whole lot more than that."

I smoothed my long hair. "He wasn't my type."

She tipped her head and grinned. "I think looks can be deceiving. I mean, you look like a million dollars."

"Very funny," I said. "One of these days, I'll have a million dollars."

"At the expense of fun." Ginny shoved open the padded doors. "I'm just glad he inspired you to sing."

She skipped ahead before I could correct her. Through the padded doors was another set of glass doors, but the bouncer had it open as soon as he saw us.

The karaoke lounge was a world apart from the nightclub. The round tables ringed a raised, black stage backed by black, velvet curtains. A piano player lounged on his bench and waited for singers brave enough to opt away from the karaoke machine.

Three chandeliers lit the stage and a wrought iron railing separated a second level. Black, leather booths and larger tables ringed the balcony where waiters darted back and forth.

"What's up there?" I asked.

The bouncer glanced up at the balcony. "VIP lounge. Access is at the staircase in the dance club."

VIP lounge. Is that where he'd gone? He didn't look like the VIP type. My stomach tightened. I wasn't the VIP type, either, but one day I'd be different. I wouldn't be the Midwest girl that ran away from my namesake hometown of Corsica, South Dakota. I would be rich, recognized, and standing at that railing with an ever-full glass of champagne.

Then, I caught sight of the vintage microphone on the small stage. I knew I'd get to the VIP lounge if I stuck to my practical plan, but there was always a wild twinge of hope when I thought about singing. It was silly. I'd never make a living as a singer. Yet that was exactly what my heart wished for every time I was near a microphone or a stage.

I stopped and shook my head at Ginny. Why get my hopes up?

She planted her fists on her slim hips. "Oh, no. You're not backing out this time. I graduated, too, and this is my celebration and I want you to sing!"

Ginny sat me down at a small, round table and went to talk with the piano player. After a few minutes of negotiations, he looked up and grinned at me. Ginny sauntered back to the table looking very pleased with herself.

"I'm not ready," I said.

"You have a few minutes." She sat back and clapped as the next singer climbed the stage and waited for the karaoke machine to kick in.

"If you picked some pop tune, I'm not going up there."

She waved my anxiety away and smiled at the tall waiter that appeared next to our table. "With compliments from the VIP lounge," he said.

"See?" Ginny asked, raising her fresh martini in a toast. "Someone else wants you to sing, too. Here's to liquid courage."

My throat was so dry, I was sure I'd choke on the drink. Plus, there was no way I could lift the thin-stemmed, wide-mouthed glass without sloshing alcohol all over myself. I laced my fingers together in my lap and tried to breathe.

"No one knows you here, Corsica. Just let yourself go. It's just one song."

The reedy-voiced singer finished as the small crowd clapped wildly. I watched the piano player stretch his fingers and dance them over the keys in a quick warm up. The key was familiar and I knew the song before the host announced it.

"One of your best," Ginny winked.

She'd chosen an old lounge singer's tune about what the stars look like when you are in love. I knew it well and was on stage with one hand curled around the microphone before my mind could protest anymore.

Then it happened: The wave of joy that washed away all my fears and worries. I gave the piano player a sultry smile and he jumped in to the bouncy syncopation of the first bars.

My voice sailed over the top, smoothing out the strong beats and tinkling flourishes of the piano. The crowd was all shocked smiles. I swayed my hips and emphasized the lyrics with flutters of my free hand. People began to nod and cheer.

Then, I saw him.

He was leaning over the wrought iron railing with the hint of a smile curving his beard and mustache. Despite his shaggy hair and the distraction of his tattoos, I was suddenly singing to him alone. The lyrics, my voice, reached out to those dark, eyes sparkling above me like I was wishing on a pair of stars. I couldn't help it; my stage presence had taken over and it felt great.

The song came to an end and the piano player jumped off his narrow bench. "That was great! Damn, girl, I never would have guessed you had it in you. Please tell me we can do another one."

The small crowd filled the little lounge with applause. I looked up to see if he was clapping, too, but he wasn't at the railing. "Is he allowed to do that?" I asked.

The piano player glanced at the narrow, blocked-off staircase that ran from the VIP lounge balcony to back stage. "Him? You mean Penn? Sure."

Penn had jumped the gate that secured the staircase. He jogged down the steps to disappear behind the black velvet curtain. I felt him before he appeared, like a wave surging in the water. Then, he flipped back the curtain and walked around the foot of the stage.

"Tell her she has to sing again, Penn," the piano player begged.

"You really should," Penn held up a hand to help me down from the stage, "later."

"What do you want?" I asked Penn as he pulled me towards the bar.

"To buy you a drink."

"No, thanks."

He turned and grinned down at me. "Why? You only let rich and appropriately-dressed men buy you drinks?"

The quiver in my stomach brought my defenses up again and I could hear the snobby tone as soon as I opened my mouth. "You must work here to be so free with your drink offers."

Penn blinked. "Work here? No, I don't work here. He does, though. He's a bar-back. And, she's actually the owner of the karaoke lounge."

I looked at the people he pointed out. The woman he named as the owner was petite and wearing an even smaller dress. Her long hair was bleached white and knotted into dreadlocks. The bar-back noticed me looking and waved, his dress shirt crisp and bright in the dim lounge.

"Hard to tell about people because clothes can be deceiving," he said.

I scowled at his smugness. "So, what can you tell about me?"

He looked me up and down, those dark eyes roving over my body with the heat of lasers. "You like slumming it almost as much as you like designer dresses. Though, you really can sing. There's no mistaking that. How come Daddy isn't buying you lessons or your very own record label?"

The heat from his eyes turned to cold ashes at the mention of my father. "You don't know anything about me, Penn. You don't even know my name."

I tipped my head back to give him a defiant glare and was surprised by the soft empathy I saw there. Just being near him was tossing my equilibrium. There was a magnetism I had never felt before that pulled me in even as his words and his appearance repelled me.

Penn took my hand and raised it to his lips. "Please, do me the favor of telling me your name."

I yanked my hand back before he could kiss it, sure the sensation would fry what was left of my rational thoughts. "Corsica."

"The island where Napoleon lived in exile?"

"Sure. Why not?" I often chose not to disclose the origin of my name because I had worked very hard to cut all ties with South Dakota.

A waiter appeared with two drinks that Penn took without hesitation. I didn't understand how the man that looked as if he should be changing people's oil was the one that was being waited on.

"Why are you here if you don't work here?" I asked.

Penn frowned and swirled the olives in his drink. "I've been summoned to San Francisco by the big boss man. I just didn't feel like rushing right over to wait for him, so I came here. I'm glad I did."

I felt steadier. "So, you get special treatment because everyone knows who you work for? Doesn't that bother you?"

"That would bother me, if it were true. I knew these people when I had nothing and, yes, the drinks arrive a little faster now, but I haven't changed."

"So, you're from San Francisco?"

I could have let the conversation fizzle. I could have thanked Penn for the drink and walked away. I could have returned to the small table where Ginny was reuniting with an old co-worker.

Except, the longer I was near him, the more I felt tying me to him. His presence sent my system into chaos, but I felt a familiarity with his thoughts and an attraction that was nearly impossible to deny.

Ginny smiled and waved from across the lounge, and I knew I would not be able to deny that Penn was the most interesting man I had met in a long time.

"Yes, though I've never been a good city-dweller," Penn said. "How about you?"

"Here and there."

Penn snorted. "Singers always say that, don't they? So, Corsica, what do you plan to sing next?"

I shrugged. "Depends on what inspires me."

"What inspired that last song?"

I didn't want to admit it even to myself, so I took another sip of my drink and continued walking along the bar. Penn followed and when I reached the corner near the emergency exit, he tugged me into the short, dim hallway. I didn't resist. It was impossible; I wanted to press my body against his and feel just how hot he could make me.

"What is it about you?" Penn asked on a harsh breath. He hooked an arm around my waist and pulled me closer. "You're snobby and stuck up and quick to get the wrong opinion about people."

"So what are you doing?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure it's going to be bad for me."

He leaned down and I was shocked by the soft brush of his beard. The light chafe of it against my cheek had my lips parting in surprised pleasure. Penn's wide lips were still frowning, but he was about to kiss me.

"Sorry to interrupt," Ginny called. "Remember how I posted where we were going because I was sure he never read my stuff, anyway? Well, I was wrong."

I kept one hand on Penn's hard chest as I leaned around and looked where Ginny pointed. My ex-boyfriend, in his perpetual polo shirt and dark, pristine jeans, stood in the doorway of the karaoke lounge. He blinked as his eyes adjusted and then he scanned the crowd, trying to find me.

Penn stepped back. "Your boyfriend."

"Ex," I snapped.

"He's got this sick sense of when you're doing anything fun," Ginny said. "What, is he afraid if you sing a little karaoke, then you'll run off and go wild?"

"I'd like to see that," Penn commented. He eased around me and back out towards the bar.

I crossed my arms and raised my chin. "I'm not going to go wild just to please you or stop singing just to make him feel comfortable."

"So, you're going to go over there and send him away? I bet I could help with that." Penn's dark eyes glowed with mischief and he puckered his lips up. "How about that kiss, princess?"

I shoved his chest with both hands. "I don't have time for this, I really don't. I shouldn't have come out in the first place."

"Scared you'd meet someone like me?"

Ginny laughed. "She's not so much scared of having fun as she is overburdened with practicality."

I planted my hands on my hips. "Yeah, because it's so fun not finding a job after graduation. It's really fun having student loans hanging over my head. It's fun having everyone tell me I'm making a big mistake when all I want to do is take care of business first."

I stomped past Ginny and Penn and gave Joshua an angry wave. He saw and gestured for me to join him outside. I shook my head and pointed to the bar. My ex-boyfriend tried to argue across the room, but I found a stool and sat down.

Normally, I enjoyed Joshua's appearance. Even though we were broken-up, he was still a trusted friend and colleague. We'd gone through the same hospitality program in college and our career goals were the same: own an exclusive hotel. And, it didn't hurt that Joshua had the clean-cut look that I liked.

Joshua Barton was two years older than me at 24, and much taller at 6'4". His height made him appear thin, but he had the wiry strength of a marathon runner and the broad shoulders of an all-state swimmer. His blond hair was cut perfectly and the part in his hair as straight as a ruler. Light blue eyes expressed every thought.

Though not much emotion, I thought.

Joshua was perfect, polished, and completely without passion. Unless we were talking about hotels.

I turned in my chair as he approached and wondered if my ex-boyfriend was going to surprise me.

"There you are, Corsica. Why can't you answer your phone? Didn't you see the email I forwarded you from our department head?"

"Really?" Ginny asked. "We just graduated and you couldn't let her have one night without bringing all of that up?"

Joshua ignored my friend with a polite frown. Then, he gripped my elbow and pulled me off my stool. "Sorry to interrupt, but this is actually important."

"Is he always like that?" Penn growled behind me.

"You mean bent on destroying any thoughts Corsica has of fun or freedom even for a moment?" Ginny asked. "Yeah. He's always like that."

"Who on earth is that?" Joshua asked me.

I glanced back at Penn and had no idea what to say. The differences between the two men were glaring and I was shaken by how obvious my preference leaned towards Penn. "Never mind. I only came out to find you because it's that important," Joshua said.

I twisted my arm free of his grip. "Fine, just tell me. What's so important that you came out to a club to find me? Aren't you supposed to be having dinner with your parents?"

"Yes, but our department head let me know there is a position available at the Ritz-Carlton in Half Moon Bay. I recommended you, Corsica. You're going to need to revamp your entire resume and make sure all your references are in order. This isn't something you can wait on. It's the chance of a lifetime!"

I stepped back and leaned against the bar. "The Ritz?"

"Exactly," Joshua said with a smug smile. "Now, come on, I have a car waiting."

I leaned away from his ushering hands. "Whoa, wait. It's important, it's amazing, but it can still wait until morning," I said.

Joshua stood up to his full height and gave me a disapproving frown. "You can't seriously be telling me that you'd rather stay here and listen to people butcher songs on a karaoke machine. We can stop and pick up dim sum. We'll make a night out of it, and you can send your resume first thing in the morning."

"Is that what you think when I sing?" I asked.

My ex-boyfriend froze and measured his next words. "What does your singing have to do with applying for a position at the Ritz-Carlton?"

"I love singing."

Joshua laughed. "And it's the perfect hobby for you, but it's not going to pay the bills or get you the career you've studied so hard for, now is it?"

I turned and looked at the stage. The vintage microphone glinted like a far off star, and I felt the old pain in my chest. It was the familiar pain of saying goodbye, of leaving something I loved for something better.

It was the same feeling that had followed me since I left South Dakota and never looked back.