American Diva (9 page)

Okay, this was absurd. She dressed in less than this on stage. Right . . . but she had makeup and leather and somehow it was different when
one
guy was looking at her like that as opposed to an auditoriumful. Nevertheless, she was frantic about being late. So Audrey dropped the pillow and threw the door open. Jack Price raised one dark brow as she marched, head up, to the mountain of suitcases in the corner of the room.

She rooted through her bags, silently cursing Courtney. Why hadn’t Courtney sorted through this stuff? A personal assistant was the one thing Audrey had agreed with Lucas she needed. So where was her so-called personal assistant? Why did she always have the feeling that Courtney was off plotting something?

Oh, right. She went to get the earpiece Audrey had left on the plane since High and Mighty Security Guy over there couldn’t be bothered.

She opened several bags before she found what she needed and stood up . . . only a little too fast. She had to put her hand against the wall to steady herself. When she could focus again a moment later, she noticed that Jack had come to his feet and was watching her closely.

“Are you okay?” he asked, moving toward her, his expression full of concern.

“I’m
fine
.”

His gaze fell to her mouth and she felt something stir inside her. “How often are you taking pills?” he asked softly.

The question stunned her so that she reared back. “
What
? What are you saying? Who in the hell do you think you are?”

He didn’t answer, but let his gaze drift down her body before lifting it to her eyes again, and in those really stunning blue eyes, Audrey could see Jack was onto her.

“Just shut up,” she said angrily, and brushed past him, headed for the bathroom. “It’s not a big deal and it is
so
not your business,” she spat over her shoulder as she stalked inside. She slammed the door, turned on the shower full blast and scalding hot. She slipped out of her clothes and climbed into the stall, and the moment the water hit her, Audrey melted.

She slid down the tiled wall to her haunches, her vision blurred by the tears that suddenly welled in her eyes. With her fists pressed against her mouth, she silently sobbed.

But when Audrey emerged a half hour later, she was completely composed, an art she had learned the last year in the course of her dizzying rise to fame and fortune. She was wearing a very short skirt and a T-shirt that had been doctored to look torn at the neck and arms by someone who thought three hundred dollars was what the look was worth.

Jack was standing at the window now—not that Audrey noticed or cared. She padded across the room to the trunk that held all her shoes and threw it open. She could feel Jack’s eyes on her as she dug a pair of Ugg boots out if it. She stood and smoothed her skirt. No one had ever made her feel quite as naked as she was feeling at the moment.

Not even Lucas.

A sliver of guilt jabbed her. Audrey swallowed it down as she bent over and pulled one boot on, then the other. Jack was still watching her, but his expression had a predatory edge to it. It seemed almost as if he were restraining himself from capturing her and taking her back to his cave.

She walked across the room, picked up the little bag that held her cell phone and lipstick and mints—no money, she never needed money anymore—and said, “Let’s go.”

She didn’t look back to see if Jack followed, just walked. She could feel him at her back as they stood waiting for the elevator, his gaze burning her body every place it touched. She could feel the warmth radiating from his body.

When the elevator arrived, Audrey stepped inside and slumped against the wall. Jack pushed the button for the second floor. As the elevator sped down, he clasped his hands behind his back and said, “You don’t need pills to sleep.”

“Oh dear God,” she muttered angrily as the heat of shame crept into her neck. “I
said
it’s none of your business.”

He turned his head and looked at her; there was something new in his blue eyes. Dear God, was it
concern?
“I know,” he said calmly. “But you’re young and about to embark on the ride of your life. Why screw it up with pills?”

“Don’t try and understand, Superman,” she said. “You cannot imagine what my life is like. I have a lot on my mind.”

“My guess? It’s not your life that’s convincing you to take those pills,” he said casually. “Either you’re not getting what you need, or someone is talking you into it.”

That drew her up short—she cocked her head and eyed him curiously. “What do you mean,
getting what I need
?”

Jack gave her a very lopsided smile. “Exactly what you think I mean, cupcake.”

She gasped; he smiled as the elevator door opened. “After you,” he said, and put his big hand on the small of her back, guiding her out.

Audrey suppressed another bothersome shiver. Honestly, who did this guy think he was?

On
the way to the arena, Audrey stared out the window at the passing scenery, one shapely leg crossed over the other, one booted foot swinging dangerously close to Jack’s leg. There was no conversation—for which Jack was thankful, for the girl could really infuriate him.
Pills?
Who was she, Janis Joplin?—Jack studied the smooth skin of her thigh.

That was not helping him rid himself of the image of her in skimpy underwear.

Dammit
. He could throttle her for not getting up this morning, because he had a feeling it was going to take him a good long while to stop thinking about those panties.

He wondered what she was thinking—she looked miserable. But when they turned into the parking lot of the arena, there was a small group of young girls hanging around the gated entrance. When they spied the limo, they screamed and jumped up and down, waving at it.

“Oh!” Audrey said, instantly lighting up like Times Square. “Stop here, stop here!” she cried to the driver, and as soon as he rolled to a stop, she popped out. Jack did, too, moving instantly to where she had walked up to the group of girls, who had broken into pandemonium at the sight of Audrey.

“What are you doing?” he demanded of Audrey.

“Hold your horses, Rambo,” she said, and turned a brilliant smile to the girls. Their screams pierced his eardrums, but Audrey didn’t seem to notice it—she was all smiles, dipping down to speak to the girls, taking their CDs and posters and autographing them. He watched in amazement as she spoke to each of the two dozen girls gathered there, answering their questions, complimenting their outfits, and looking every inch a star.

When she had signed everything she could reach, she told the girls she had to go and practice, said good-bye, then turned a warm smile to Jack. “I’m ready now.”

He opened the door to the limo and she stepped in, giving one last, enthusiastic wave to the girls as Jack followed her in and shut the door.

The driver continued to the arena.

Jack couldn’t help looking at her. She was still smiling. He’d been in Hollywood for too many years, had seen too many stars refuse autographs or to acknowledge their fans. He was astounded, really, by her eagerness. “That was really nice of you,” he said, meaning it sincerely.

“Are you kidding?” She laughed warmly. “That is the one bright spot in my day. Girls like that are why I started the Songbird Foundation.”

“The what?”

She laughed again, the sweet sound of it a stark contrast to the way she had spoken to him the last twenty-four hours. She seemed almost a different person somehow. More real. More alive.

“I guess you wouldn’t know about my foundation, would you? I set it up when my second album went platinum. It’s an organization that helps disadvantaged girls get into music. I would have killed for a little encouragement at that age, a little constructive, progressive instruction. Mostly I got the
put down the guitar and do the dishes
sort of thing. So now that I’m in a position to do it, I really want to give girls the chance to rock and roll that I had to fight to get.”

Jack tried to picture Audrey at the age of ten or so, guitar in hand. He had an image of a scrappy little girl with dirty knees and tangled hair and a determined glint in her green eyes.

“I was lucky,” she said as the limo drove up to a pair of glass doors at the arena. “I asked my old music teacher from high school to help me set up the foundation, and she’s been fantastic. In the first year, we gave two hundred girls from across the country scholarships to study music.” She smiled broadly, obviously proud of that accomplishment.

She had every right to be proud.

And when she smiled like that, it went all through Jack, warming him from the inside out. She looked young and fresh . . . and beautiful. “That’s really cool,” he said. “Too many people don’t give back until their accountants tell them to.”

“Well, you know, Security Dude, we are always looking for donations,” she said with a sly wink.

He smiled. “Just tell me where to send a check.”

Her eyes widened with surprise and pleasure. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. I’d be happy to donate.”

“That’s
fantastic
!” she exclaimed, smiling like a kid at Christmas. “I am so . . . surprised and pleased.”

He couldn’t help chuckling. “You think Security Dude doesn’t have a heart?”

“As a matter of fact,” she said with a laugh, “
no
.” But she laughed again, and continued to smile as they made their way inside.

But as soon as they stepped inside, Junior Birdman was quickly on them, stepping in between her and Jack, his hand on Audrey’s arm, and her smile faded rapidly. “What the hell, Audrey?” he said curtly.

“I overslept—”

“Don’t make excuses. How many times do I have to tell you that professionalism is just as important as talent in this business? If you get a reputation for . . .” He paused and jerked his gaze to Jack. “Is there something you need?” he asked coolly.

Yeah. He needed to kick him in the teeth, but he held up his hands and stepped back.

Bonner turned back to Audrey, effectively dismissing Jack. “Let me show you the dressing room,” he said low, and forced her to walk with him. Audrey went along, Jack thought, a little like a lap dog.

He watched the swing of her hips as she walked away. Damn, but he wished he didn’t find her so attractive, particularly since he suspected she was a wreck. She had to be—one minute she was a pill-popping diva who let a jerk like Bonner lead her around by the nose, and the next she was the same sultry, sexy woman who used to sing soulful ballads in Austin clubs. She was exactly the sort of multiple-personality woman Jack normally avoided at all costs.

Yet there was something about Audrey LaRue that had slipped under his skin that night on the beach, and he was having a hard time getting her out.

Yeah, but he
would
get her out—he was fairly certain he just was having a normal male reaction to having seen one very fine ass this morning. Besides, he reminded himself, he was only in this deal for the money. He damn sure didn’t need anything like useless lust complicating his life. Especially not right now—he needed to have a meeting with his guys and the Omaha police the promoter had brought in to work the concert crowd.

As he walked in the opposite direction of Audrey, the image of her nearly naked began to fade from his mind’s eye, replaced by thoughts about security.

But it was obliterated altogether a few hours later when Audrey LaRue,
Diva
, marched toward him, the
click-click-clicking
of her heels on the concrete floor sounding a little like the rat-a-tat of a machine gun. He glanced up from his conversation with his subcontractor, Ted, and noticed that she’d changed clothes. She was wearing a costume—hotpants and a fierce-looking bra-thing. The flat plane of her belly was exposed and her blond curls were bound up into two mounds on top of her head.

She was also wearing a new expression, and this one was full of ran-cor as she sailed to a halt before them, glaring at Jack, oblivious to Ted. “
Hello?
” she said, folding her arms across her middle. “Did you forget who you are guarding?”

“No,” Jack said calmly. “Did you forget how to converse politely?”

He heard a tiny snort of surprise from Ted, but it was nothing compared to the wide-eyed gasp of indignation he got from Audrey.

“I beg your
pardon
? Ohmigod, do you
know
who you are talking to?”

“Yes, Audrey. We have established who I am talking to more than once. Look, if you have a problem, or a question, you only have to ask nicely. You don’t have to come at me in full attack mode.”

“
Attack
mode?” she retorted angrily and shifted a fire-throwing gaze to Ted.

“Hey, I’m gonna check that . . . that thing we were talking about,” Ted said, and quickly backed away.