Chase and Seduction (17 page)

This was going to hurt him more than it would hurt her, but it was the only way to set her free.

Into the phone, he told the security guy, “Hey, man, let her in, and have somebody bring her right to my dressing room."

"I sure will, Mr. Tanner. Thank you."

He hung up, opened the door to the arena, and told his big Samoan bodyguard, “Tony, when Reno Linden gets here, let her right in."

"Sure.” He glanced into the room. “Want me to move the ‘ladies’ somewhere else?"

"Hell, no. They're part of the surprise."

He stared at himself in the full-length wall mirror. Dark circles looked like bruises under his eyes. There wasn't time for makeup, and without it, she'd know he was having a rough time. He grabbed his hat off the counter and settled it low on his head. It hid his exhaustion, but nothing could hide the hatred he felt for himself. In the mirror, he flicked himself the finger. “Don't screw this up, asshole. Do what's right for Reno."

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A loud knock sounded on the door, and it swung open. His bodyguard called, “Visitor, Mr. Tanner."

Chase kept his head down, his hat covering his face.

"Hello, Chase.” Her sweet voice cut through his numbness, breathing life into his dying heart.

Slowly he lifted his head. There she stood, his beautiful Reno. Her cheeks pink, her amber eyes big as spotlights, her lips quivering. She'd dressed for the concert, jeans and boots, a low cut shirt and a fringed jacket. She clutched a giant Holstein-print purse to her stomach.

Every instinct told him to run to her, drop onto his knees and beg her forgiveness. Promise her anything if she'd take him back. But he couldn't be the reason she didn't achieve her dreams.

"Reno. What're you doing here?"

She seemed confused. “I got your card. I thought you wanted to see me.” Her voice shook.

He leaned on the couch back, crossing his arms. “Sorry about the card. It was a mistake. A miscommunication to my staff."

Blinking rapidly, she asked, “Why are you pushing me away?” Her voice sounded choked. “Is it because of Drake? The night he stayed at the farm?"

"No. I know nothing happened between you two. Not that you shouldn't have told me about it anyway."

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to get into the reason he was there."

"The job in France?” Chase asked.

"Chances of my getting the position were slim, and I didn't want to have to explain because—"

"Because you didn't think I would let you apply for it? Because you going away for four months would have upset me, and you didn't want to have to deal with it?” He snorted a humorless laugh. “You know me too well. That's exactly how I responded when you took the job. Unreasonable and selfish."

The opposite of what he was doing now. For her. Unselfish and logical, but it hurt like hell. How did he make her see that it was what she needed?

Her face drained of color. “No. That's not why."

He straightened and faced her. “That's exactly why. I'm an old school kind of guy. I expect my woman to be by my side. And you've got a career that takes you away. It doesn't work. For either one of us.” Crazy talk that sounded more like his dad's mentality than his, but it brought up a disturbing question. Did he really want Reno to stay out of his spotlight?

She pressed her fingers to her lips, then dropped her hand. “We just—"

"We live in different worlds. That's the problem."

"No we don't. We live in one world, where you and I are the only people who matter."

He shook his head. The only person who mattered was Reno, and her happiness depended on her moving on. “You're destined for greater things than a tour bus..."

"Drake told you that, didn't he. He is full of shit, Chase. I never wanted to be part of the literary elite. Never. That's what
he
wanted for me. What he thought was best for my writing."

She stepped forward, gripping the purse against her body. “But don't you think I know what's best for me?"

He looked into her sparkling eyes, and when she blinked, twin tears ran down her cheeks. Her pain stabbed him clear through what was left of his soul.

"You already live in that world, Reno. You're a teacher now.
Prairie Fire
is still on the New York Times bestseller list. Your career is taking off."

Reno shook her head. “No, Chase—"

"We've moved in different directions."

Loud giggles sounded from the next room, and Reno turned her head toward the noise.

Chase brushed past her and walked to the door of his makeup room. “This is my life, Reno.” Steeling his resolve to use every dirty trick to convince her, he opened the door.

One of the girls called, “Are you ready for us now, Chase?” More giggling.

Reno's face turned red as she stared into the adjoining room. Then she straightened her back and wiped the tears from her cheeks. Walking right up in his face, she said, “I see what you're doing, and it won't work. You're just like Drake, aren't you? You think you know what's best for me. Well that's bullshit."

He stared at her. She never swore before. He'd brought that out in her—him and his bad habits. He tipped his head down, hiding the pain in his eyes. “You need to move on with your life. I have."

"I can't. I'm..."

He glanced up at her, waiting for her to finish. But they weren't alone.

Reno's hollow stare followed the blondes as they walked into the room and stood on each side of him. She sucked in a shaky breath. “I love you Chase. I always will.” She turned and walked out.

He watched the door swing closed. He couldn't breathe. Love? She loved him? Oh, shit. How would he live the rest of his life knowing she loved him? Because, damned if he didn't love her, too.

The ladies pressed into him, sandwiching him between them. He thought about it, the mind-numbing relief of sex, the peaceful glide into sleep after orgasm. But he had no interest. Since he walked away from Reno, there'd been no one else. As gently as he could, he herded the girls back into the makeup room. He'd wait ten minutes until he was sure Reno was gone, then he'd have his bodyguard send them home.

As he sat in his chair, he looked around at his empty dressing room. He'd gotten rid of her, all right, and she wasn't coming back. Only feet separated him from seven professional musicians, thirty-five Tanner Touring employees, and eighteen thousand fans, but he was absolutely alone.

A hollow ache, like a deadly heart attack but not as merciful, started in his chest and spread through his body. Would he ever find anyone else like her? Did he even want to try?

Reno walked out of Chase's dressing room, pain clawing at her stomach, the surreal scene burned into her memory. She stopped and looked around the dark backstage area. Which way had she come in? She'd been so excited to see him, she barely paid attention.

The massive guard outside the door asked, “Are you staying for the show?"

She shook her head. “I've seen all of Chase that I can stand for one night.” Tears choked her, and she whispered, “Would you please tell me where the loading dock is?"

He gestured to her left. “Are you okay, miss?"

She forced a smiled as tears traced down her face, making a liar out of her. “Just fine. Thanks.” It was nice that someone cared, but not the right someone. She walked across the backstage area, her new cowgirl boots clicking loudly on the concrete floor. Catching a glimpse of the stage and the arena, she stopped to look out at the chattering crowd filling every seat of the sold out venue. So many fans worshiped him. Didn't he see what a profound impact his words and music had on the world? His charitable donations alone could support an entire city. He was a good, conscientious person. Why did he think he was a detriment to her career? Was it whatever Drake said to him? That wasn't like Chase. He was strong and determined. He made his own path through the word.

As she walked, she went back over every story he told her about his parents, his childhood, his lucky break in Nashville, and his last girlfriend, the pretentious bitch. But what wasn't he telling her? What linked all the troubled pieces of his past together to make him incapable of reaching out and grabbing happiness for himself?

When she located her car, she leaned against the door for a minute and dug her keys out of her purse. Maybe she'd never know what drove Chase to do the things he did, but she didn't have time to waste on it right now. She reached down and touched her stomach. Six months pregnant. “Little one,” she spoke to her baby bump. “That was your daddy.” Two months ago, she realized that, duh, no menstrual cycle and a swelling belly meant “baby on board.” She'd covered it up pretty well in France, but just recently, her body changed a great deal, and she started showing out front. The Sorbonne was probably glad to be rid of her. Not only was she depressed, lethargic, and sick to her stomach during the day, but at night, she wouldn't go out for drinks with the faculty, or let them show her the sights. And worse, she'd set a bad example for the students—no wedding ring.

She slid into the rental car and started it, then pulled out a map of the US. Chicago to South Dakota. A long drive. She'd find a hotel on the outskirts of the city for the night, then push herself tomorrow and try to make it in one day. Her own bed and her favorite pillow after four months would be a dream come true. As she pulled out of the arena, the hot June sun blinded her for a moment, but her eyes adjusted and she scouted for signs directing her to Interstate 90, which would take her all the way home. She'd call her family tomorrow and let them know she was on her way. She smiled. Wait until her mom and brother saw her. They would shit circles around themselves.

She jumped on I90 and set the cruise control. There were a couple hours of daylight left, and she'd make the most of it before she found a nice hotel. Just a half hour ago, she'd been planning to sleep with Chase tonight. She'd imagined his face when he saw her, his surprise when he saw her stomach. And his finding the perfect seat for her to watch his concert, then whisking her off to start their life together as a family. But instead, he tried to shock her out of his life.

So, why had he sent the birthday card? He hadn't responded to her in months. Why didn't he just let it die? She almost had. Then two weeks ago, when she received a special delivery package from Texas, she thought it was his way of testing the waters, seeing if she was still interested. Her heart had soared, the baby kicked and wiggled, and she jumped online and looked up his tour dates. Chicago, on his birthday, two days after she finished her course at the Sorbonne. It was fate aligning all the stars. “Ha!"

Spotting a safe-looking hotel with a restaurant, she exited the freeway, pulled into a well-lit parking lot, and turned off the engine. Then broke down crying. Why did he lure her back to him only to send her away again? Chase had no idea what he wanted. But she knew, and she was prepared to wait him out.

Four months later, Chase finished his tour. It was so popular, he extended it to twenty more cities, and he felt worse than exhausted, he was damn near used up.

After a thirty-seven hour nap, he sat by the pool at his Texas home strumming his guitar and watching the sunset. A warm, October breeze ruffled the pages of his notebook, but words wouldn't come to him. And notes wouldn't form into music. He was dry as southwest Texas. It was this way since...Reno.

He'd tried dating a country singer, but she couldn't snap him out of his writer's block, and when he admitted he wasn't interested, sexually, she'd called him a freak and stormed out. But it didn't hurt his feelings. Hell, he couldn't feel anything but a cold, empty cave where his heart should be.

He needed to start working on his new CD and his agent hounded him for some new songs, begging him to commit to hiring writers.

The chords he strummed sounded familiar. He kept at it, then stopped. Shit, he was playing
Prairie Fire
. Reno's song. It hurt to think of her, and the song brought back every memory. Would probing this ache help him figure out why he was blocked?

Playing the song, he made it through the first verse, but the words were different. He wrote them down. Then the next verse, and that was better, too. He played the song twice more, writing down the new words, additional verses, a better modulation and bridge. Now, this was the old Chase, everything flowing together, coming to him easily.

He played it once more, singing the new words. It was good, now. Really good.

Flipping his notebook to a new page, he wrote the title of a song he'd been messing around with for a few months.
Sidewinder
. The words came slowly, and didn't make sense right away. “He's a snake, but she called him her hero, he's lowdown deadly, but she picked him up anyway.” Another song about him and Reno. That's what he'd been missing in his songwriting. He'd been blocking Reno out, and he had to let her in. Let his pain guide him.

It took two hours to write
Sidewinder
, and it was a rocking country ballad. Amazing what a little self-torture could do for a songwriter.

The sun went down, and he moved inside to his studio and kept writing, fueling himself with beer and leftover fried chicken. Six songs later, he felt like a human again. The first time since the night of Reno's award in D.C.

Adrenaline flowed and he could write all night, but he had to do something else first. Something he'd been putting off to spare himself the hurt. He needed to read her letters.

Sitting in his family room, which was damned ironic because he had absolutely no one, he sorted her letters by date, and opened the first one, the one she'd sent with his suitcase from D.C.

She apologized for not telling him about Drake, and asked for his forgiveness.

"Aw, Reno. That's not why I walked.” He felt lower than a snake.

In the letter, she promised to be more attentive to him, give him what he needed. She'd make it work.

He held the letter in a shaking hand. Goddamn, she blamed herself, but it was his insecurities, his low class upbringing, that made him not good enough for her. In D.C., she'd been the focus of attention, and he'd been too immature to accept that he was just her guest. Nobody special. Shit, had he really been that selfish? Why hadn't he explained it to her?