Authors: Calista Fox
Son of a gun! Why’d I agree to this?
Oh, yes. Because no one had told her Drake Halston was
hotter than the freakin’ sun!
She made a mental note to kick Yvette in the shin the next
time she saw her. Likely, her friend was sipping a glass of champagne right
now, snickering over the shock Drake Halston would be to Shana’s overly
sheltered system.
But she’d deal with Yvette later.
The too-sexy-for-words man said, “Please, call me Drake.”
His voice was so low and sensual, it seemed to seep through her veins, making
her tremble with excitement.
“Tha-thank you for, um, inviting me to the club. And
backstage.” She pulled her hand from his, though she was reluctant to do so
because his touch felt so arousing and intimate. But that social ineptitude of
hers had instantly revved into high gear and she’d turn into a full-on
stammering idiot any minute now if she didn’t get a grip on her riotous
emotions.
Sucking in a deep breath, she tried to focus on what her
yoga and meditation instructors taught her to do when she felt her anxiety
mount. Finding her center was key to staying in control and not drowning in her
self-consciousness. She held the breath for three seconds, and then
slowly—hopefully discreetly—let it out.
Interestingly, Drake didn’t seem to notice her distress. Or
if he did, he intended to put her at ease by ignoring it. In fact, he gave her
a friendly smile—simple, yet still so sexy it could melt a glacial epoch. Maybe
he was used to liquefying women into feminine mush that pooled at his feet, and
she was just one more adult female he’d turned into a tongue-tied schoolgirl.
If he were amused or annoyed by the way she so easily fell
to pieces in his presence, he didn’t let on. His eyes were warm and hypnotic as
he said, “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. As has my assistant, Jane
Van Kamp.” He gestured to the waif at his side, who Shana had barely noticed.
In truth, it was damn difficult to tear her gaze from Drake to smile politely
at the petite blonde by his side.
Too bad she instantly reminded Shana of the itty-bitty
French and Swedish girls in the orchestra who had made her feel like the Jolly
Green Giant all those years she’d toured with them.
“I’m thrilled to meet you,” Jane said.
So she wasn’t French or Swedish. Like Drake, she was
British. Still, Shana felt ginormous in her presence.
“It’s nice to meet you too,” she said in a less-than-enthusiastic
tone.
Much to her surprise, though, her tension eased as Jane
beamed brightly and gushed unabashedly. “I’m sort of a fan.”
“Oh.” She was taken aback. “Thank you.”
Jane took Shana’s right hand in her much smaller ones and
gave it a squeeze. A firm grip Shana hadn’t expected. The tiny Brit might look
fragile, but she had some strength behind those delicate features. And her
exuberance was contagious, making Shana forget all about how uncomfortable she
always felt in the presence of petite women.
“Really,” Jane continued, “this is such an honor for us.
Your writing is fantastic, but we’re also familiar with your music.”
More shocking news to her. Those were not words she heard
often. Not for the last five or six years, at any rate. “Um, how’d you know…?”
“Drake is a research zealot. But don’t worry. Your secret is
safe with us. Although, he did download all the recordings you performed on and
the music is just…exquisite. So moving and intensely stirring.”
“I’m glad you’ve enjoyed it.” Admittedly, she was a bit
unnerved, having distanced herself from a past life that was instantly
resurrected as Jane fawned over her. But the blonde’s smile didn’t waver and it
helped to chase away Shana’s unexpected consternation. As she studied the
lively waif, she asked, “Have we met before? You seem very familiar.”
“No,” Jane said, her enthusiasm lighting her bright green
eyes. “But we would like to show you around backstage. Answer any questions you
might have.”
Shana cocked her head to the side. “As in, an interview?”
Thank God Jane still had hold of her hand and Shana held her
clutch in the other one, or she would have been wringing them nervously as she
awaited their response. Her gaze shifted to Drake, though she found it terribly
difficult to look away from his assistant. Ironic, considering it’d been nearly
impossible to focus on Jane just moments before. She could swear they’d met
prior to this impromptu tour. There was something about her that resonated deep
within Shana. Something warm and vibrant and somehow meaningful.
But of course that was ridiculous, so she pushed the thought
from her head.
Drake acquiesced to the interview request with a slight nod.
“That would be acceptable,” he said. “If we can keep it within reason.”
Shana had no idea what that meant, but she was thrilled
nonetheless. “Fantastic.”
Jane released her. Unfortunate, because she could use the
steadying touch as her knees knocked together. Her body hummed with an energy
she’d not felt before, as though she’d been a dead battery they’d jumpstarted.
Such an odd notion, but she couldn’t deny there was a fascinating awakening
occurring that made her aware of her body’s response to both of them.
No, it was more than just her body. Her entire being seemed
to respond to both Drake and Jane. She wasn’t sure that was possible or whether
she was simply imagining it. Mysterious as the foreign sensation was, though,
she enjoyed it. Embraced it.
“Shall we?” Drake offered his arm in a gallant manner.
Biting back a smile, she slipped her hand under his upper
arm and wrapped her fingers around muscles that were rock hard behind the
material of his suit jacket. He was a mammoth of a man, no doubt about it. So
tall and wide, she felt normal-sized next to him.
Jane fell into step beside her. She glanced up at Shana and
said, “You’re even more beautiful in person.”
Shana couldn’t hold back her smile any longer. Women rarely
ever complimented her and, for the first time in her life, the flattery felt
real. Substantial.
“Thank you.” She didn’t know what else to say. Her stomach
flipped in a curious, unfamiliar way. There was something about being in Drake
and Jane’s presence that made her feel feminine and even somewhat comfortable
in her own skin. Something she’d never truly experienced until now.
Jane continued to gaze up at her as though in genuine awe
and Drake tugged her just a little bit closer to his side until her hip brushed
against his. She felt an electric jolt deep in her pussy. Sexual awareness was
no intimate friend of hers, but she was suddenly tingly all over. A hot flash
made her think of lava flowing through her veins, singeing her. Little sparks
of excitement caused her nipples to pucker again. The soft sweep of her
miniscule satin panties were like butterfly wings fluttering against her labia.
Yes, indeed, Yvette had been right about needing those
tissues!
Her stomach took another crazy tumble as Drake leaned down
and whispered in her ear, “I like your scent.”
“I’m not wearing perfume.”
His grin was a devilish one. He could
smell
her
arousal?
Shana tripped over her own two feet, but the man beside her
caught her and kept her upright as he lifted her off the ground so she could
regain her footing.
Lifted her off the ground
!
His movements had been so fast she’d barely registered them
in her mind as he’d untangled himself from her and placed his hands on her
waist to upright her. Then he’d simply twined her hand around his arm again and
they were off. As if the misstep had never happened.
She stared up at him as they moved farther into the work
area set up backstage. He hadn’t missed a single step when he’d helped her, nor
had he visibly expended the least bit of physical effort when he’d briefly
hauled her up. Granted, she wasn’t the size of a dump truck, but she had a good
forty or so pounds on Jane and she was at least six or seven inches taller at
five-ten. Well, an even six feet in her heels.
While her mind reeled at Drake’s virility and the way he
made her feel as delicate as Jane looked, he said, “Careful there. The floor
gets slippery from the fresh body paint.”
How kind of him to help her save face.
But her face flushed anyway, because she’d all but forgotten
they were supposed to be on a tour. She’d tuned out the models in various
stages of undress as they came and went. She’d pushed all of her interview
questions to the back of her head. In fact, she was tongue-tied all over again.
Not that it mattered. Jane dove into a dissertation about
the murals that would be on display in less than half an hour.
She said, “The artists sketch out their scenes so the models
know the exact placement beforehand. Behind these curtains,” she paused as she
gestured toward the workstations made private by the addition of full-length
drapes attached to metal rods suspended from the open rafters and comprising individual,
rectangular structures, “the models relax and enjoy champagne and music while
they’re painted. For their safety, Drake typically doesn’t allow anyone back
here who’s not directly associated with one of the murals. For their privacy,
he doesn’t allow security to view the footage inside the stages before or after
the murals ‘go live’. We videotape from every angle, of course, but only Drake
has access to the footage, should something go wrong. We’ve never encountered
any problems, though.”
She leaned in close as her hand rested on the small of
Shana’s back. A whisper of a touch that was surprisingly titillating.
Jane added in a self-deprecating, yet teasing voice, “I
tried to sneak a peek once and got my hand slapped.”
Shana couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m sure the temptation is
difficult to resist. There’s a certain curiosity factor related to what goes on
back here.”
“See?” she said as her gaze snapped to Drake. “I told you it
was perfectly normal to want to see how some of these people get it on. Especially
with the more creative murals.” Her eyes fell on Shana again and she winked.
“Nothing wrong with a little curiosity. It’s healthy.”
“That’s probably not something you should admit to our
guest, love,” Drake said. “She might tell on us.”
“Ah, according to Jane,” Shana jumped into the conversation,
“there’s nothing to tell. You won’t let her have any fun.”
She smiled up at the handsome devil next to her. Where the
flirtation in her voice had come from, she had no idea. She’d never heard such
a sultry sound fall from her lips. Nor had she ever put together a provocative
statement with such ease.
If she’d had something to drink earlier, she might think
she’d been served some sort of miracle cure that actually made her come across
somewhat lighthearted and composed.
Not one to push her luck, she returned her attention to the
fine art of walking without stumbling in front of her hosts again.
But Drake’s head bent to hers once more and he said in his
deep, sexy tone, “I suppose I could break the rules this one time. The models
sign a waiver acknowledging they’re being videotaped.”
A very wicked thrill shot down her spine so fast, Shana
nearly missed a step again. Even with her concentrated effort.
“You really believe all of the models succumb to primal
mating instincts because they’re naked and the opportunity presents itself?”
He grinned down at her, making her feel as though she’d
actually posed a relevant question.
Surprise, surprise
.
He countered by asking, “You really believe they can resist
the temptation?”
Shana’s teeth sank into her lower lip. Lucky for her, she
was wearing twelve-hour, stay-put lipstick in crimson, or she’d be wearing more
of the lipstick on her teeth than her lips.
As she contemplated her answer to Drake’s query, he
continued to watch her, a scorching-hot look on his handsome face, an
intriguing challenge in his dark eyes.
Even a social misfit could sense physical attraction. It
existed between her and Drake in spades. It also existed between her and Jane.
She couldn’t deny it, even being as inexperienced as she was in this arena.
Their interest in her was genuine. She had a lifetime of false flattery under
her belt to know the difference. The men who’d come onto her during her
international touring years had all wanted something from her, yes. But it
wasn’t her body, per se. It wasn’t whatever charm or wit or intellect she might
possess that enticed them. It was her name. Her prestige. Her fame. Her
fortune.
These two fascinating people knew her past. They’d admitted
as much. But that was not what drew them to her, she was certain of it. What
she felt right now was their attraction to the person she’d become. The person
she still strove to be.
It was strange how it all fell into place for Shana, but it
happened quickly and it couldn’t be denied. These were two people with honest
intentions. Potentially wicked intentions, sure. There was no missing the
naughty sparkle in Drake’s eyes or the quick rise and fall of Jane’s chest,
echoing her excitement as though she’d shouted it into a canyon for all to
hear.
In the end, Shana knew enough about human nature, had met
enough people with pretenses only meant to suit their needs and fulfill their
desires, to know when someone was shining her on.
Drake and Jane were not.
Of course, that didn’t mean she had a clue as to what they
were really up to and what she was supposed to do about it. But she felt
comfortable in their presence and she wanted to know them better. She wanted
them to find her interesting enough to let her into their world.
A shocking turn of events from the simple invitation she’d
thought she’d be accepting this evening, but one she found appealing. There was
a certain fear that walked hand in hand with her vulnerability, but she’d never
felt more inspired or motivated to unravel herself from that fear than she did
at this moment. With Drake. With Jane.