Joley sounded so filled with despair, Hannah was alarmed. "Look, hon, I'm catching the next plane. Hang on and I'll be there. I'll meet you in Chicago."
Joley wanted her sister to come. She felt safer when Hannah was around, when any of her sisters were with her, but she was an adult and this was her problem. She had to learn to manage her cravings for the Russian bodyguard because she knew the need wasn't going to just disappear. Hannah would ease the symptoms, but she couldn't stay forever and then the desire would be back at full strength and Joley would be right back where she started. She took a breath in an effort to calm down.
"I don't want you to come, Hannah. I just needed to hear your voice. Tomorrow I'll be onstage and the energy carries me a long way. I'll be all right. I just need to find a good, decent man. Maybe if I'm with someone who respects me and sees the good side of me, I'll get over my weakness for really bad men."
She'd tried being alone, refusing to date anyone, because she was attracted to the wrong sort of men, but once Ilya had come into her life, she couldn't think about anyone else, let alone the idea of someone else touching her. But she would get over that. People could change—
she
could change.
"Are you sure, Joley, because I don't mind?"
"I do. I don't want you to have to fly across the country to hold my hand." Besides, she was already losing her mind and knew she was already lost. Joley glanced around at the amazing mess she'd made of the hotel room, throwing a fit because Ilya Prakenskii wouldn't have sex with her. He'd made her feel cheap—no—she'd made herself feel that way, throwing herself at him because she
needed
sex—not just any sex—sex with him. And he was responsible for that, talking to her day and night in that incredibly seductive black velvet voice and zapping her palm so she itched and burned. Damn him.
She lifted her chin and took another calming breath. "I'm going to be fine."
"Joley, you're really upset. Don't pretend you aren't," Hannah cautioned. "That's when you always get into trouble. Think before you do anything."
"Why do people always say that to me?" Joley said. "
He
said I don't think. He said I needed a man to tell me what to do because I couldn't take care of myself. As if. He's stuck in the Stone Age."
Hannah knew she'd struck a nerve and tried to recover. "He is very dominating. I noticed that whenever he's around you and he doesn't like you to cross him."
"Well, he can go to hell. I don't know what game he's playing, but I'm not playing it with him. I'll be glad to get out of this city." Joley flung herself on the bed, trying not to notice that her body ached and she felt hollow and empty.
"Europe was good?" Hannah asked.
"Very good. We sold out every concert and we actually scheduled a few extra because the sales were so high and we hated turning away fans. I'm exhausted, but it was great."
"You had fantastic write-ups in the newspapers, and even the tabloids treated you fairly well. There were only a couple of scandals."
Joley laughed, and for the first time it was genuine. "I told the reporters to go easy on me because my parents believe all the lies they tell."
Hannah laughed with her. "I read that quote and knew you'd really said it. Mom's going to have few things to say to you."
"That's not unusual," Joley said. "Go back to sleep, Hannah. And tell my brother-in-law I love him, even though he's semi-friends with Prakenskii when he should be arresting him."
"I've got news."
There was a small silence while Joley sat up, the note in Hannah's voice tipping her off. "What?"
"Abbey is getting married next month, as soon as you get home. They're having the ceremony on the Drake beach and the reception here at our house. They only want immediate family at the ceremony. You know how Abbey is. And I'm pregnant."
"Oh my God! Oh my God! For real? You're going to have a baby for real?" Joley stopped, the smile fading from her face. "Wait a minute, Hannah. What does the doctor say? Are you sure you'll be all right? You're still not completely healed."
"Libby doesn't know if I'll be able to nurse. There's a lot of scar tissue, but we'll see. I'm so happy, Joley, and I can't wait for you to come home to share this with us."
"Libby's the best doctor in the world," Joley said of her sister. Libby had special healing gifts, and thanks to her, Hannah's scars were barely visible. "Jonas must be walking around with a big balloon head. What have you gone and done, Hannah? He's going to be impossible to live with."
"I heard that," Jonas called.
"Well, it's made him bossier," Hannah said, laughing.
Joley could hear the joy in her sister's voice, and deep inside, where no one could see, she wept for her own loneliness. She wanted someone to share life with, to laugh and cry and hold at night. Her life was spent moving from city to city in an endless tour of shows, living out of hotels and buses. She loved it, but she wanted someone with her. She was so happy for her beloved sister, Hannah, but Hannah's happiness only intensified her own lonely existence.
"Wasn't Abbey going to call me?" Joley asked, somewhat hurt that her sister hadn't given her the news of her impending marriage.
"Don't be silly," Hannah said. "You were in Europe and they just decided. They're waiting on the actual date to speak to you. You're going to stand up for her, remember? And Kate and Sarah and Libby will be married at Christmas."
"Finally. I thought they'd never actually do it, just talk about it."
"If you get married, Joley," Hannah asked, "how would you want your wedding?"
"Since it's never going to happen, I don't think about it. I'm going to be the favorite aunt," Joley pronounced. "The fun one who always lets the kids get in trouble."
"You'll find someone, Joley," Hannah reassured her. "You just have to be more open and let it happen. You've always been so fiercely independent."
"It's more than that and you know it. I despise men weaker than me and hate men stronger than me. That pretty much leaves me with nowhere to go."
"I thought I wouldn't be able to live with Jonas, Joley, but when you love each other you find a way to compromise. Jonas does get bossy with me, but I've found that I have as much power in the relationship as he does."
"I know you're perfect for each other," Joley said. "I think I always knew it, but Jonas is different. He's a good man and he loves you more than anything else in the world because you're you. Hannah, you deserve to be loved that way."
"And you don't?"
Joley was silent.
"Joley." Hannah's voice was soft with love. "You're a great person. You sacrifice for everyone. Don't do that to yourself, don't sell yourself short."
"I don't." But Joley knew things about herself Hannah didn't know. Dark things she craved, maybe even needed, in a relationship. She loathed that part of herself, driven by sex and danger, suppressed most of the time, but so strong the need fought her continually. She wanted to be loved, but what decent man could ever love someone like her? Sometimes, like now, when she felt driven to the brink of madness, she wished she wasn't a Drake and she could drown herself in alcohol and drugs and not feel the pain.
"Tell everyone I love them, Hannah," Joley said. "I'll be home soon."
"I really will fly out," Hannah offered.
"No you won't. You'll stay right there and do whatever Libby tells you to do," Joley said. "And Jonas. Tell him I said bossing you around right now is a good thing."
Hannah laughed. "I'm
so
never telling him that!"
"Get some sleep. I'm much calmer now," Joley lied, forcing cheerfulness into her voice. "And wish me luck in Chicago."
"You don't need luck, Joley. Your talent sells tickets. Have fun, and call me if you need me. You know I'll come. Love you lots."
"Back at ya." Joley hit the end button and tossed her cell phone onto the bed before sinking down on it.
Hannah would come to her, but Joley would never ask her now, not when she was pregnant, especially after the vicious attack. Hannah was special, and Joley always turned to her when she felt in crisis. Hannah dealt with everything in her own sweet way, wanting to make the world better for her sisters. She had been a success as a supermodel, but Joley knew she'd be even more of a success as a mother.
Joley was closest to Hannah, loved her dearly, and it had been Ilya Prakenskii who had saved Hannah's life. He had stopped her attacker and kept her alive until the Drakes had gathered together to help heal her, and for that alone, Joley would always feel a connection with the man.
"You have Jonas," Joley murmured. Jonas was tough as nails when he had to be, and he loved Hannah. Everyone had known it but Hannah.
Joley ran her hands through her hair several times, before she flung herself backward to lie staring up at the ceiling. She'd killed an hour talking with Hannah, but she had a long way to go before the night was over. The hotel had an exercise room. She could go there. Alone… again. If only the tabloids really knew what her life was like.
Joley. Party girl. Lovers all over the world.
Not
. It was more like Joley up all night writing songs and going to the exercise room to keep from going into sexual meltdown.
"Damn you, Prakenskii. You're punishing me now, deliberately not speaking to me. Well, you know something, I don't need you. And I don't want you." She leapt up and grabbed her hotel key. Sexual frustration was really good for writing songs. Her best songs had come from detesting, no, loathing Ilya Prakenskii and wanting him with every breath in her body.
The workout room was deserted, and she grabbed a bottle of water and programmed the treadmill for a run up and down hills. In her head she could hear musical notes with each step she took. Fury at Prakenskii was the pounding beat of the drum. The saxophone was purely erotic, the guitar riff—the blood sizzling in her veins. The keyboard was the breath moving in and out of her body steadily, necessarily. She could hear the bass in each slap of her foot on the surface, deep notes that set her heart pumping.
There was euphoria in music, the only place she could escape who she was, what she was. She had six sisters and she admired every single one of them. She was fiercely protective of them, although she was second to the youngest and all of them had incredible gifts. They all knew she had a weakness for dangerous men, but they had no idea just how terrible her craving for Ilya Prakenskii really was. And he was the epitome of everything she stood against.
She believed in the order of the universe. She believed in good and evil, in the balance of nature. She believed in the right to defend oneself, of course, but she deeply and sincerely believed it was wrong to harm another. It was rumored that Ilya was a hit man, and she could never, under any circumstances, have a relationship with a man who was evil. The problem was, he didn't feel evil. He felt hot and sexy, with that terrible edge of danger she seemed to crave.
She had been in his mind many times. He could communicate with her telepathically, and that meant he had to open his mind to hers. She had caught glimpses of violence, terrible things that made her afraid, but she'd never seen a memory of him murdering in cold blood—and if he was as evil as a hit man would be—than why couldn't she feel it when she could tell so easily with others?
"Joley?"
She nearly jumped out of her skin, whipping her head around and gaping at her lead guitarist, Brian. "You scared me. What are you doing here this time of the morning?" She kept running, turning her head away from him, afraid the guilt would betray her.
"You seemed so upset when you left, Joley. You barely said a word. I saw the Reverend there and I know he and his entourage are confrontational with you, so I was worried."
"I'm fine." She glanced at him. "You should get some sleep. We have a show tomorrow in Chicago."
"Stop that thing and talk to me. This is Brian, not some schmo off the street. We've been friends for years." He held out the water bottle as an offering.
Joley let out her breath and allowed the treadmill to slow to a stop. She took the towel from Brian and wrapped it around her neck before taking the water bottle. "I thought you were allergic to exercise. What are you doing here?"
"You're always here when you're upset."
"I' in here to work out. And I sometimes come up with my best songs late at night."
"Tell me what happened. What were you doing at Nikitin's party?"
She shrugged and swallowed a long gulp of water. "I couldn't sleep and thought I'd check it out. Once I got there, I remembered why I hated those things." She dried off her face. "Did you manage to run down that little weasel Dean whatever his last name is and his friend? The ones hanging with the girls who couldn't have been older than fourteen."
Brian shook his head. "I never found them. Denny helped me look for them, but we couldn't find them anywhere. We checked the pool, the gardens, the garages, everywhere, but they must have made the girls leave."
"If he shows up in Chicago, Brian, I'm having Jerry fire him." Jerry St. Ives was her manager, and she was just as angry with him as she was with Dean. He had promised to oversee the parties and make certain that no young kids were taken advantage of.
"Joley, you know very well anyone could have invited those girls. For all we know Nikitin did. At least talk to Dean before you give him the axe. He could have been escorting them off the property."
"He ran when I called him."
"Honey, come on. Joley Drake angry is a scary thing. I'll talk to him if you don't want to do it, but at least let's give him the benefit of the doubt. This is America. Innocent until proven guilty."
She rolled her eyes. "And what's with Denny and the blonde?"
"He was afraid you saw that."
"You think? She was blowing him right on the grounds in front of anyone and everyone."
"He was pretty screwed up."
"Is that supposed to be an excuse?" She shoved her hand through her hair in agitation. "I like his girlfriend. Lisa's a really good person and she deserves better than him." She knew she sounded disgusted and judgmental, but it was the truth. "I'm not going to be able to look at him."