Skye soared with Ash somewhere above the Eastern seaboard, flying toward the northern border of the United States.

Ash reclined in the leather seat opposite her, his face scrunched in concentration, his fingers flying over the keypad of his phone. He bit at his lower lip as he typed, and when his eyes pinched together, a deep groove would appear between his brows. His attention never wavered from the screen, and hers never moved from his face.

Silence filled the cabin, wrapping around them in a comforting embrace. This easy peace was a natural thing flowing between them, but beneath the quiet, tension swirled.

“A penny for your thoughts?” His voice bathed her in its multitoned notes. He peeked up from his phone, catching her staring at him…again.

With a jerk of her chin, she indicated the closed cockpit door. “They’re giving us privacy.”

His smirk returned. “Yeah, maybe next time, we’ll take advantage of it.” Oh, the promise of sex was ever on his breath.

“What are you working on?”

“I wanted to get that song down before I forgot it.” He leaned back. “It’s getting late. You hungry?”

It was almost nine, and they hadn’t eaten since Chuck’s Bar and Grill.

“I still have those granola bars.” Although that didn’t sound appetizing.

He arched a brow. “They have food on these things—and alcohol. You want a drink?” At her nod, he unbuckled. “Come on. Let’s raid the cupboards.”

The next ten minutes netted them various fruits and cheeses, caviar, a selection of sliced meat, and a well-stocked bar of wine, beer, and scotch worthy of the rich and famous. She went for wine while he settled on soda.

Ash pulled out a tray of chocolate strawberries from somewhere, and her mouth watered.

“Where did you find those?”

“You missed the dessert fridge,” he said.

She grabbed a strawberry and popped it into her mouth. “Yum.”

As she enjoyed the decadence of the sweet berry chocolate at twenty-five thousand feet, his body language shifted—a subtle alteration, but there nonetheless. He chewed at his lower lip. He started to ask a question, stopped, pulled at his earlobe, and then rubbed the back of his neck. Strange gestures she hadn’t noticed before.

There it was again, him nibbling at his lower lip.

“Is something wrong?”

“Something’s been bugging me, and I’m not sure how to bring it up.”

“Ask me anything.”

He yanked on his ear. “I’m not sure I should.”

“Is it about Spencer?”

She hadn’t thought about Spencer all day. Ash was too much fun. How could she ever go back to Spencer, knowing a man like Ash might be waiting for her? Giving back the ring appealed to her more and more.

Settling—that was what she’d been doing with Spencer. And didn’t she deserve so much more?

The past had taken her parents and destroyed her chance to grow up in a loving home. Perhaps she’d been too focused on taking back the past. It was time to give back the ring and pave a new future.

“Well, yeah, I guess we should talk about him,” Ash said.

She bit her lower lip, hesitant. “But that’s not what you wanted to ask, is it?”

He shook his head. “Not really.”

“Then, what?”

“Do you really not know who I am?” He kicked his ankle across his knee and leaned his elbow on the armrest.

He’d placed particular emphasis on the word really, which made her neck itch. Why would he think she should know him?

His finger traced the cut Spencer had put under his eye. The split in his lip was almost healed. Even now, the ghost of Spencer invaded their privacy.

She gave a shrug. “Should I?”

His expression pinched, and he shook his head. “It’s just…well, it’s been a long time since I’ve met someone who didn’t.”

“Okay, now, you’re worrying me. Are you a criminal or something?” She smiled, feeling awkward about teasing him because his brows shot up at that comment. Leaning forward, she placed a hand on his knee. Her expression softened. “Did you go to my high school or something? You’re not Ash Hoorelbeck, the guy with the braces and headgear from shop class who used to shoot spit-wads at me? ’Cause, if you are, you’ve really changed…”

He laughed. “No. But I’m ready to kick that guy’s ass.”

She smiled. “So, are you a drug dealer?”

His eyebrows shot up again.

“Criminal? Stalker? What?” She poked her finger at him, confused. “What does it matter? You chased me. You kissed me. If you’ve forgotten, I was the one running from you. And you’re the one who stalked me the next day, buying all those hot cocoas. Who does that?”

He shrugged. “Me, evidently.”

“Well, you bullied me into bringing you on this trip,” she teased.

He shook his head. “I wouldn’t use bully, but yeah, I was persistent.” His fingers unlocked his cell phone, swiped, and tapped the screen. He handed it to her. “Tell me if this looks familiar.”

The sigil of a band filled the screen. It was a guitar with fiery wings, and to the side, a grouping of the band was barely discernible, their bodies cast in shadows but with spotlights hitting their faces.

Humoring him, she squinted. They did look familiar. Right—the coffee shop, laughing and lounging. Their names were scrawled at the bottom of the screen—Blaze, Bash, Bent, Spike, and Noodles.

Nervousness simmered in his emerald gaze, and his breath pulsed in and out.

Why did panic line the edges of his eyes?

Her finger glided over the faces of the men of Angel Fire.

Luminous green eyes stared out of the screen. Their front man, the embattled lead singer named Blaze.

Holy shit!

Her gaze skipped to the guitar stowed in the seat beside them. His baby. His songwriting and that voice?

A flutter tickled her stomach. Maybe she needed to pay more attention when Forest droned on about his favorite bands.

This changed everything.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

His fingers pressed against his forehead. “When you picked out that T-shirt, I thought you were teasing. But then you acted so clueless about who I was. It wasn’t until you paid for the shirt that I thought maybe you really didn’t know. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve been around anyone who’s treated me like a regular guy? Women don’t act like that around me.”

“I had no idea.” She shook her head, stunned by the revelation.

Examining the screen, she compared the man sitting in front of her to the rock star named Blaze. There was no denying the truth, but the name didn’t fit the man she’d come to know. She handed back the cell phone and pressed a hand to quell the queasiness brewing in her belly.

“You’re Blaze then?”

He nodded. “In the flesh.”

“Guess I’m one of the top ten clueless people in the world.”

Forest was going to have a good laugh over this.

All the signs had been there. The sunglasses and ball cap obsession made sense. While obnoxious, Ash had been using them as a disguise. His use of cash instead of credit fit, too. Had he been avoiding leaving a trail for the paparazzi to follow? At least she understood his guitar obsession and songwriting.

And, while she couldn’t believe she’d missed it, she wasn’t a total idiot. Ash’s voice—Blaze’s voice—sounded different in person than it did in the band’s songs, probably because he didn’t have the rest of the band backing him up. Blaze was a rock legend, which meant Ash was no starving musician.

She didn’t know how these things worked. What was the proper etiquette for traveling with a rock star?

And then she laughed. If you were one clueless Skye Summers, it meant splitting all costs straight down the middle.

Frankly, she didn’t care. His money meant nothing, as she had more than she had ever wanted or would ever need.

And his fame only strengthened what she’d already accepted in her heart.

There was no confusion as to their future. He was a distraction, and it seemed that she was the same for him. Eventually, real life would catch up to them. She had a career in medicine, and the music industry would demand the return of their golden child. There was only one direction for their relationship to go, even if she desired more.

It was probably for the best that she had taken sex out of the equation.

She was content to live the fantasy as it played out, only soured a little now with the knowledge that there was no future between them.

He shifted in his seat.

“So, if you’re Angel Fire’s front man, why were we buying clothes at a thrift store? Too cheap for Walmart? Target?”

A smile crept across his face, and his shoulders relaxed. Some of the tension in the cabin disappeared. “It was next to the gas station, and no one was in it.”

“Maintaining a low profile?” She clucked her tongue. “Explains the ugly glasses. You have no idea how much I hate those things.”

“You and me both.” He reached over and grabbed her hands. “You really didn’t know?”

“Nope.” Her lips popped crisply on the P.

“When we were driving to the mountains, you kept talking about Angel Fire and the way I sing. I about lost it.” His thumbs stroked the backs of her hands.

She tried to remember what she’d said exactly, something about a sinful voice. And here came the flush that would color her cheeks a deep crimson. How was she going to live this down?

“Well, to be honest, my brother’s a huge fan. I was spouting off stuff he would say to keep the conversation flowing. I was nervous to be alone with you.” She couldn’t help the corny line spilling from her lips. “Guess I’m just not that into you.”

“Bullshit!” He leaped out of his seat and knelt before her. Gently, he cupped her cheeks. “You’re very much into me.”

“I’m into Ash. Not sure about Blaze,” she teased.

His dark hair hung down over his face, shading the verdant green of his eyes. A fire burned there. He was going to kiss her, too, and if that happened…well, her eyes flicked to the closed door between them and the cockpit.

He breathed out. “Just one kiss, babe.” His infectious grin was back. He leaned his forehead to rest against hers. “Am I crazy, or do you feel this, too?”

“I don’t know what to feel. I was engaged a couple of days ago.” She tried to pull away, but Ash wouldn’t let her go.

A breath pulsed out of her lungs and into him. His shoulders lifted as he inhaled.

“I’ve been on the road since I was seventeen, over a decade now. I’ve never had a normal girlfriend. You have no idea—”

“Oh, there’s nothing remotely normal about me.”

Their faces remained kissably close, their foreheads still pressed together.

“I don’t want to ruin this,” he said, “but, damn it, Skye. I don’t want to lose you. I know you’re not a believer, but fate brought us together for a reason.”

His lips brushed against hers, and an answering desire stirred within her core. Once again, he incited a reaction. But what would happen if he tried for more than a simple kiss? She was damaged beyond repair, her body’s responses not hers to control. She wished things might be different with him, but didn’t dare to hope.

The captivating glide of his lips demanded a response. She felt all of him, overwhelmed by the sensations he pulled from her troublesome body. She should be terrified, but she found herself swept away.

Beneath her excitement, fear lurked, a small niggling piece of doubt. Falling for Ash would add more complexity into a life full of difficulty. Rushing into something more wasn’t smart.

Ash wasn’t a starving artist. He was a rock star!

Instead of thinking about all the reasons she should keep her distance, she focused on his fingers digging into her arm and those twined in her hair. The heavy rasp of his breathing mirrored her soft sighs. They connected on a level where souls melded, and while that terrified her, she couldn’t stop her reckless rush toward to him.

And, as her heart rate accelerated, he deepened the kiss with a growl, pressing against her, as if he would lose her if he let her go. He licked and stroked and pushed his tongue deep, possessing her like a man on a mission.

Then, he pushed the seat back flat and crawled over her, staring down with need. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down. Her fingers dug into his scalp as he stole her very breath with another mind-bending, heart-melting kiss.

His breathing changed, and his weight shifted. He grabbed her wrists, disentangling her fingers from his hair to pin her hands above her head. “Fuck, you drive me insane.”

Each time he ground his hips, a smoldering heat would flare between her legs. Adrenaline surged in her blood, pouring through her body, accelerating both her heart and the pace of her breaths.

While a flood of endorphins pumped in her veins, her body betrayed her with a familiar prickling sensation. She fought for air as the weight of childhood memories bore down with glacial surety.

Ash nibbled on the soft tissue of her neck. One hand on her wrists, holding them fast, while the other lifted the fabric of her shirt. His hand skimmed the swell of her breast as she battled with her mind.

Releasing her wrists, his hands moved down, gripping her hips. Then, his palm cupped between her legs, pressing hard and firm over the fabric of her jeans. His husky voice rasped, “I’m going to make you feel good.”

Her lips and fingers prickled with the spreading numbness as the memory vault released vileness into her mind. The fire in her belly dampened. The ache between her legs disappeared, and a chill settled in her body.

She froze beneath his touch.

His hands stopped. His kisses lifted off her skin. “What’s wrong?” He tilted his head back and stared into her eyes.

She couldn’t turn her head fast enough.

Ash lifted away.

She rolled to her side and curled into a ball, unable to hide her body’s revulsion. Images of her foster father flashed in her mind—touching, forcing…and worse.

Ash stumbled back into his seat, increasing the distance between them. “Shit, I’m sorry. I keep fucking this up, pushing you and breaking the rules.” A long string of curse words followed, and then he returned to her, gathering her in his arms. “I’m not used to going slow.”

She placed her hand on Ash’s chest. “We need to talk.”

So much about her wasn’t normal. This was what had Spencer hiring professional escorts. This was why she would never have a normal relationship.

Overhead, the call light blinked.

The pilot’s voice sounded. “Please buckle up and prepare for landing. You know the drill.”

Ash stared at her with haunted eyes. A frantic edge lined them, but it was the hollowness in his expression that knifed deep into her heart. Her rejection had wounded him.

If she could, she would kill her foster father all over again for the pain he inflicted on those she loved. Wasn’t it enough—what he’d done to her? To Forest? Yet the ghost of a monster continued to reach out from the grave to wreak havoc on her life.

Before she could speak about her past, she needed a moment to regroup.

Despite the pilot’s orders to buckle up, Skye stood. “I need—I need to freshen up.” She pushed hot tears from her cheeks and stumbled to the lavatory.

The plane pitched down, and she wondered if this was the beginning of the end for her and Ash.

Ash said nothing, but the sound of his heavy breathing followed her the entire way to the back of the plane.

He’d asked if she felt it—the thing growing between them. Yes, she felt something—an unsustainable attraction.

She pressed a hand to her stomach, sick with the mess of her past. She needed Forest. He would understand.

When she returned to her seat, Ash glanced up from his cell phone.

Was he writing another song? Who knew what rock stars did?

And it changed things, knowing who he was, but then again, he was exactly the same. Same penetrating eyes. Same quirky lift at the corner of his mouth. Same everything…except different now.

The easy way he held himself portrayed his confidence as a man who commanded the adoration of millions. The quirky humor and easy smiles he tossed her way, she now understood as snarky expressions of a rough and jaded celebrity.

The old Jeep and the beat-up guitar? Why did he hold on to those things from his childhood? What was he clinging to? And what was she going to do with him now?

She chewed on her lower lip, studying him.

For a rock star who surely had his share of groupies to choose from, what was he doing in a plane, twenty-five thousand feet in the air, headed to Niagara Falls, with a woman who had such a complicated life?

She wasn’t supermodel hot. She wasn’t tall, sexy, and lean. She was simply herself. She spoke her mind, took care of her patients, and had only ever loved one person—her foster brother, Forest, not even a romantic love. Sad, how now she realized she never truly loved Spencer.

Ash’s words whispered in her head, “Do you feel this, too?”

Much like his song, she felt the insanity of whatever had brought them together.

The plane banked sharply to the left. She gripped her armrest, and buckled her seat belt.

Their gazes snagged with unspoken words hanging in the balance.

The pilot’s voice sounded over the speaker again. “We’re coming in for our final approach. It’s going to be a bit bumpy.”

Bumpy? He had no idea of the turbulence buffeting the passengers sitting in the back.

“Ash, I—”

He held up his cell phone. “I booked a suite. It has two rooms.” He brushed the hair off his face. “We’re both tired, and I think we need a good night’s rest.”

“We need to talk.”

He nodded. “We will but not tonight.”

“We can’t ignore what happened.”

He blew out a breath and leaned back in his chair. “I messed up. I’m sorry.” He wiped his hand over his face and drew it down over his mouth. “I keep forgetting to go slow.” He blinked, and his tortured eyes flashed. “Please, don’t hold my past against me, but I don’t know how to hold hands and kiss a girl. I’ve never dated…anyone.” He gave a shrug. “I’m so used to hitting a home run that I forget about walking the bases.”

The curse of a rock star, she assumed.

“As much as this sounds like a cliché,” she began, “I’m going to say it anyway. It’s not you. It’s me.”

The plane rocked as it lined up for its landing. Turbulence, her ass. This was the same pilot who’d had them swooping through the mountains in his helicopter. Bastard was probably having a blast.

Her head banged against the seat back as the wheels touched down, bounced, and hit again. The pilot nosed the front wheel down and engaged the brakes.

His voice popped through the speakers. “It’ll be a few minutes while we taxi. Please remain seated until we come to a full and complete stop.”

After the bumpy landing, she continued, “I’m broken and messed up ten ways till Sunday. You don’t want me.”

His face darkened with a scowl. “That’s fucking bullshit.”

She blinked. “You don’t get it.”

He undid the latch of his seat belt and knelt before her, clasping her hands. “We mesh”—he thumped his chest—“in here, Skye. Right the fuck in here.” He brushed his lips against her knuckles. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“This has nothing to do with who you are or what you do for a living. I said, it’s me, not you.”

His eyes narrowed with suspicion. “I don’t believe you.”

She cupped his strong jaw. “I’m not sure it’s fair to involve you in all my complications.”

The richness of his scent enveloped her in a familiar blanket of spice and musk, a sexy fragrance that was purely Ash. He made her feel comforted and safe, an oddly unique experience.

“If it’s about your ex, don’t worry about him,” Ash said. “I’ve known guys like him, and I’ll make sure he doesn’t hurt you anymore.”

He held himself a breath apart from her. Their lips trembled but did not touch.

Oh, poor Ash. If only it were so simple…

“No, I’ll take care of him.” She would end the engagement once and for all even though she’d feel like the world’s biggest coward doing it by phone.

Skye leaned back, breaking the connection between them, terrified they would kiss if she remained close.

“So, what’s wrong then?” he asked. He settled back onto his heels, uncertainty and vulnerability framing his face. “Is it because I’m Blaze? Is the fame putting you off? You liked me well enough when you thought I was Nobody Ash.” He shook his head. “Usually, it’s the other way around. No one wants to know Ash, but they sure as hell are all over Blaze.”

“What do you mean?”

“Only that women are predictable.”

“Predictable?”

“Forget it.”

Like she was going to let that comment go. “Explain what you meant.”

His eyes pinched, and he tilted his head back. “Okay, this is going to sound bad, no matter how I say it, so I’m just going to say it.”

“I’m listening.”

He paused for a moment and then continued, “Women throw themselves at my feet, at the feet of Blaze, just to have a piece of me. And I admit, I’ve taken advantage of what being Blaze has done for me, but I want more. I gorged myself on sex and sin until I got sick of it. The few relationships I tried were a joke. Women take and take, like I’m some goddamn giving tree. They used me for my money or to be close to my fame, but none of them cared about who I am. I’m sick of it. I want what my father has, what my brothers have.”

She listened, not saying anything, while his words cut a hole in her heart. Perhaps she wasn’t the only walking cliché.

“It must be frustrating—to be used like that,” she said.

It was a little odd to listen to a man complain of too much sex and to refer to himself by two different names…identities. But she understood vacuous sex; physical contact without emotional intimacy drained a person.

“It pisses me off,” he continued. “So, when I ran into you, and you…well, you didn’t—”

She hid a smile and finished his sentence, “Jump your bones? Or was it because I didn’t know who you were?”

His smirk made a fleeting reappearance and then melted away under a frown. He scratched the side of his head. “Well, both, to be honest. You treated me like Joe Normal.”

She laughed. “Technically, I treated you as Nobody Ash.”

“Yeah, and it’s fucking amazing. I get to be me for once and not bigger-than-life Blaze, lead singer of Angel Fire.” He gestured between them. “You and I…there’s something real here. Fate brought us together. Don’t fuck it up and run because you’re scared. I’m still the same guy even if I sing for some rock band.”

The corners of her lips turned up. She couldn’t help it.

And who he was or wasn’t had nothing to do with her issues.

Well, that wasn’t true. His fame complicated an already screwed up situation.

He rubbed his neck, his fingers stretching across the bloody strands of the tattoo, making the web twist beneath his touch. “Is it over, now that you know?” He scooted back, staring at his clasped hands.

The stupid plane rolled down the taxiway, the tires bumping over the tarmac. Slowly, they closed on their destination. Soon, they would have to climb out of the plane and face the prospect of another night together.

Another night.

Another opportunity to feel his touch.

Another chance to fuck everything up.

His simple kiss couldn’t cleanse the taint staining her soul.

Her body shuddered with the remembered pain, and she wished it could be different.

Ash leaped out of his chair and captured her in a hug. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

She wiped tears from her cheeks, not really certain when they’d started to spill.

“I’m okay,” she said, pushing Ash away. “But, since we’re being honest, you need to know something about me, about my past…” Because it would change everything.

By the time the plane stopped, he’d probably want to turn it back around and fly far away, but she found the strength to continue and to be as honest as she dared.

Rubbing her palms on her jeans steadied her nerves. “My childhood…”

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, but just because something’s complicated doesn’t mean it can’t be fixed.”

Fixed? There was no fixing.

She held up a hand. “There was a time when I was young and powerless. I was hurt in ways my body and brain couldn’t deal with.” She needed to explain why her body did what it did and how her shutting down wasn’t his fault.

“Then, came Bean,” she said, “only they hurt him worse. He was so much weaker and brittler than me. We found each other in the darkness and have been with each other ever since.”

A sour expression crossed his face, like he was going to be sick or kill someone. “Skye, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I survived, as did Bean. We came out on top.” She pulled up her knees and hugged them. “The first time it happened, I was twelve.” Her voice hitched at the memories. “It only got worse.”

Fresh tears poured down her cheeks. She swallowed against the lump in her throat. Admitting such a private thing felt like someone was punching her in the gut all over again. She wasn’t ready to discuss the training, the beatings, or the performances that had been forced upon her and Forest by the man entrusted to keep them safe.

“So, Bean’s not your real brother?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“And you love him?” A tone of resignation filled his voice.

“I do,” she said with a vigorous nod. “I love him very much.”

“I see.” Ash’s voice dropped to a whisper.

He pulled her into his lap, despite her protests. Strong arms enfolded her, encasing her in steel.

The plane jerked to a stop, and a few seconds later, the cockpit door popped open. “We’ve arrived,” their pilot announced.

“I arranged a car to pick us up,” Ash said to the pilot. “Can you see if it’s here?”

Hydraulics whirred as the stairs unfolded and lowered to the ground.

Ash’s arm cinched around her shoulders. He kissed the top of her head. “Why were you engaged to Spencer if you love Bean?” The raw edge of disappointment clouded his voice, disturbing the rich tonal notes.

A pained acceptance pronounced itself, and she realized her mistake.

She pushed off his chest to stare into his eyes. “I love Bean very much.” She made certain to speak slowly, ensuring Ash understood and wouldn’t miss what she was saying. “I love Bean, as my brother. He’s my family. Not my—”

“Damn, you’re exhausting.” He laughed.

“Exhausting? You seriously didn’t just say that. I spilled my guts out to you.”

“Yes, you did.”

“And you think it’s funny?”

He’d better have a reason for the laugh, or she was going to kick his ass.

He placed her palms on his chest. “Not by a long shot. I’m going to take you out of this plane, tuck you into my bed, and sleep all night long, curled up next to you. In the morning, we’re going to have breakfast in bed. Then, I’m going to show you how a man loves a woman, erasing the bad memories and replacing them with something new.”

“You can’t do that.”

“Babe, I might be many things, but two things I know for sure.”

“What is that?”

“I rock it onstage like there’s no tomorrow. And I’m going to rock your world.”

“It’s not so easy. You can’t wipe away a lifetime of abuse with a simple fuck.”

He laughed. “Lucky for you, there’s nothing simple about the way I fuck. Besides, I love a challenge. I’m not going anywhere, and I’m sure as shit not letting you run away.”

His intensity terrified her almost as much as it exhilarated her. She didn’t relish being Ash’s project, but for him, she was willing to give it a try.

When the two of them collided, the world seemed to fall into place.

She pushed against his chest. “We’re going to have to buy clothes before we hit the hotel.”

He winked. “True, but I’m paying from here on out.”

She laughed at his pathetic attempt to take control. “Oh no, Rock star. We’re still splitting the bills.”

His eyes rolled. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I won’t become one of your groupies or use you as—what did you call it? A giving tree? I have my own money.”

“I booked the penthouse suite, babe. You’re not paying for that.”

The pilot popped his head back inside the hatchway. “Sir, your limo is here.”

“And the limo.” A smug expression filled his face. “I’m paying for that, too.”

“A limo? What happened to keeping a low profile?”

His lips twisted. “I got excited.”

“You’re an idiot. I’m paying for the limo and the hotel. You can’t possibly have that much cash in that roll you’ve been using.”

“I have a credit card. Seriously, don’t worry about it.”

When he opened his mouth to argue, she silenced him, pressing her index finger to his lips. “You already agreed to the rules. I want a quiet few days, and I don’t want to be running from the paparazzi the whole time. What name did you book the room under?”

His cheeks colored. “I used an alias. This isn’t my first rodeo.”

“At least you’re not a total idiot.”

He laughed. “No, I’m not.” He grabbed her hand. “Come, our shopping adventure awaits. I say, we skip the thrift stores and upscale it a bit. Your choice—Walmart or Target?”