After Midnight (3 page)

“Yeah.” Dominic eased into the booth with a sigh. “This one’s better than the last hotel we lived out of. At least the art is recognizable.” He paused, but only briefly. “You’re not falling back on old habits, are you?”

“Of course not.”

Dom’s gaze settled on the bottle of lager. “You’re sure about that?”

Before Noah could reply, a shadow fell across their booth.

Isabeau slid a napkin before Dominic. “What can I get you?”

“I don’t suppose you have any tea?” Dom asked.

“Sorry.”

“How about bottled water and something for a headache?”

“Certainly.” Her fingers dipped into her back pocket and removed a thin object about the size and shape of a credit card. Her thumb moved across the top of a tiny remote unit, and the speakers above their table and along the back wall went silent. “Is that a little better?”

“Yes, luv, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she replied, gifting Dominic with the smile she’d denied Noah.

Noah clenched his jaw. “Isabeau Montgomery, my band mate and bassist Dominic Price.”

“Nice to meet you,” she said as she returned the remote to her back pocket. “I’ll be right back with your water and an ibuprophen.”

Noah watched her departure, fascinated by her smooth stride in those skinny heels and the way her small, shapely bottom swayed. His gaze stayed with her as she pulled a bottle of water from the cooler, snagged something from beneath the bar, and started back.

She settled the water onto the napkin before Dominic, tore open a small white packet, and dropped the contents into his upturned hand.

Dom tipped the bottle to his lips and swallowed the pain reliever. “Your name’s Isabeau, as in Izzy? Is this your pub?”

“It is.”

“I like it.”

“Thank you.”

“You have unique features. What nationality are you?”

A brief shadow crossed her face. Her eyes changed color, from pale blue to dusky gray. “My father was Mohican.”

“Your mum, I bet she has blue eyes.”

“Yes. She was a blue-eyed blonde.”

“Ah. Noah fancies blondes.”

The light went out of her eyes the moment her attention turned to him. It appeared the passage of time had not lessoned her animosity toward him. He’d read too much into her sending that disc to him, had hung his hope on the idea that she’d meant the gesture as an offering of peace between them. Hope died, replaced by disappointment.

Her gaze slid to the still full bottle at his right hand. She picked it up, gesturing with it as she spoke. “Is something wrong with your beer?”

“I guess I’m not in the mood.”

“Can I get you something else?”

Because he was tempted to reach out and smooth his fingers across the white-knuckled grip she had on the lager bottle, Noah balled his hands in his lap. She eased back a step, obviously anxious to leave.

“I’m okay for now.”

The moment she was out of earshot, Noah turned to Dom. “What was that about?”

“She does have unique features.”

That’s not what was going on and they both knew it.

“She spoke of both her parents in past tense.”

He’d noticed. Noah straightened in his seat, frowned at his closest friend. “What’s on your mind, Dom?”

Dominic turned and gave him a level-eyed look. “This isn’t like you.”

“What?”

“It explains a lot, though.”

“What the bloody hell are you talking about?”

His eyes flicked from Noah to a retreating Isabeau, back to Noah. “She’s why we’re here.”

“We’re here to make a demo,” Noah replied tightly.

“Yeah? How long have you been sitting there?”

Noah didn’t like the awareness in Dom’s eyes. “A bit.”

“This isn’t like you,” Dominic repeated. “You’re usually not one for self-deception.”

They fell into an uncomfortable silence. A silence Dominic broke. “We’re supposed to be starting over. The guys and I trusted you to choose the best place for that to happen.”

Noah let out a controlled breath, and pushed his fingers through his hair. Anywhere else and he would be on his feet, pacing. “I did, damn it. This place has everything we’re looking for.”

“Including a woman close by who happened to catch your eye.”

“This studio is quality. It has a fantastic reputation and is private.”

“Yeah,” Dom agreed, setting his elbows on the table and leaning forward. “But let me take a wild stab. It wasn’t the only one.”

“No, it wasn’t the only one.”

Dominic began to swear, slowly, steadily.

“It’s only temporary. Before you know it we’ll be back in California.”

Not a fan of California, the information didn’t make Dom happier. “Great.”

“At least you won’t have to live out of a hotel room. You can have my guest bedroom.”

“I wouldn’t be living out of a hotel right now, if you hadn’t decided to let your dick do your thinking.”

Noah set his teeth. “Do you actually believe that I would do anything to jeopardize our future?”

Dom closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, I don’t think you would consciously make a decision that would jeopardize our future.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Women have a way of messing up a man’s decision making.”

Exhaustion pulling at him, Noah sighed. “Becca,” he said. It was all he needed to say, the bleakness in Dominic’s eyes said everything. Rebecca Dahlman, the woman Dom hadn’t managed to move beyond even after all the time they’d been apart.

Dominic slid out of the booth. “I hope you’re right about this place, Noah. I’d hate to think I flew across the Atlantic for nothing.”

So did he.

“Do me a favor,” Dom continued. “Don’t bring this up again anytime soon. I’m going to pretend we didn’t have this conversation.” He turned his back, mumbled under his breath. “Maybe after a few days sleep, I’ll see the humor in this.”

As Dom walked away, Noah looked to the ebony-haired beauty behind the bar. He hoped he hadn’t made the biggest mistake of his career.

****

Isabeau leaned against the bar, eyes closed, absorbing the welcome silence. The total, absolute silence…that wasn’t. For the first time since she’d reopened the bar, no music played while she prepared for the lunch crowd. It would have been too much to handle what with the music in her head already at an earsplitting level.

The relentless, unavoidable rhythm kept her from sleep the night before. Today, it threatened to sour her mood. Nothing helped, not her morning run, a hot shower, or even the tapping of her fingers against the polished chestnut bar.

The source of her pain was obvious. The return of the man brought the return of the music. It ebbed and swelled, adagio to allegro, pianissimo to fortissimo. It wouldn’t stop and it was not to be ignored. But ignore it she must. She had no choice.

She raised her hand, pinched the bridge of her nose and pleaded with whatever god listened to make it stop.

The door squeaked as it swung inward. The echo of boots upon the wood floor drew nearer then stopped.

What had she done to deserve this?

“I’m not going to say it,” she mumbled before gaining the strength to open her eyes and focus on him. “You never listen anyway.”

His mouth curved into an irresistibly devastating grin, and everything female in her stood at attention. He strode the rest of the way to the bar, his every movement fluid and easy. Confident. Naturally sexy. His lean, rangy body was clad in snug jeans and a black tee. Jeans so worn and faded that only their seams gave hint to their original color. Jeans that rode low on his hips, cupping his sex as tightly as a hand.

Her body reacted before she could steel herself against it. A burst of heat snapped along her nerves. Her pulse raced. She was staring. She knew she was staring but she couldn’t stop.

He moved, sliding onto the stool directly before her, so that suddenly their gazes locked. She waited for him to speak, to say something to break this spell that had come over her. He remained silent, sitting there watching her with those eyes that seemed to see right into her.

As he leaned forward, casually resting his forearms atop the bar, she took a step backward. Already a warm, masculine scent, which she recognized as uniquely his, swirled around her, muddling her thinking.

“Would you—” Was that her voice, all husky and breathless? She cleared her throat. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Water.”

He did things to her, made her wish for things that could never be. Whether it was his effect on her body or his effect on her head, his sudden reappearance in her life was not going to be easy for her to handle. She would have to come up with a way to discourage these impromptu visits of his. Maybe discourage all visits altogether. Let him find a different place to unwind.

“Headache?”

She raised her eyebrow as she placed his water before him.

“You keep rubbing your temple,” he explained.

She did? “Is Dominic feeling better today?”

“I haven’t seen him. We’re meeting at the studio up the street in about an hour.”

“You’re in town to record?”

“Noon to midnight, six days a week for the next few months.”

“It’s a nice studio. Pete’s a good guy.” Why was she making conversation when she was supposed to be working on a plan to get him to leave?

Mentally rolling her eyes at herself, she started to turn away when he held up something in his hand. A compact disc, her name in bold script across the front.

He placed the disc atop the bar. “You sent this to me.”

“I did,” she admitted.

“Why?”

She didn’t know why, hadn’t taken the time to think about the reasons behind her actions. Just slipped the case from her collection upstairs, boxed it up, and sent it to his manager. She was surprised that he’d received it.

“You didn’t have it” was the best she could come up with.

A look of contemplation crossed his face. “And I needed it because…it’s the most important one?”

“It’s hard to find. They didn’t make many of that one.”

He nodded as if he accepted her simple answer, even though she was certain he didn’t. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He studied her for a moment before his gaze dropped, came to rest on her hands so near his atop the bar. She held her breath, waiting for him to comment or question, as people were inclined to do when they first noticed her scars or two missing fingernails. He did neither. His hand shifted closer, settled next to hers. His thumb lifted, ran along the pale, jagged line of the largest of her scars.

The trembling started in her legs and worked up her body. She recoiled, tucking her hand into her front pocket and out of view.