Diamond (6 page)

A horse neighed beyond a cluster of outbuildings, and she looked with interest, hoping for another glimpse of the foal she’d seen from her bedroom window the previous day.

“You ready?”

She hadn’t heard Jesse approach. He startled her, as did the look in his eyes. But he pulled a pair of dark glasses from his pocket and slipped them up his nose, hiding whatever had been lurking before she had time to interpret it.

She nodded. “I’ve been ready for hours,” she said. “I’m sorry, I don’t have anything else to wear.”

What he’d been about to say stuck in his throat. He could tell that her nervous excitement waned with her anxiety over not fitting in.

“Honey, don’t ever apologize for what you are,” he said softly, and slid his hand up her arm, ignoring the flinch of her muscles beneath his fingers. “This is the home of country music, remember? What you have on is standard fare. Besides, I know of at least three women who call themselves stars that would kill to fill out a pair of jeans like you do, okay?”

She blushed and turned away, unwilling for him to see the pleasure his words had given her.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” she said, and headed for the car.

“Wanna drive?” he asked, thinking the offer would please her. But once again, he’d opened another door into her life that Diamond would rather have left shut.

“No thanks,” she said, and began to fumble with the seat belt.

Jesse slid in behind the wheel and shoved the key in the ignition. “I’m insured,” he teased.

“I don’t know how.”

Motion ceased. The words hung between them and lengthened into a very uncomfortable silence. Finally it was Jesse who broke it.

“I guess you didn’t have much need to drive, did you? After all, you lived next door to your job. It’s not everyone who can claim that convenience.” He was trying to minimize the importance of what she’d admitted. But it was useless; the damage had been done.

Diamond’s hands knotted in her lap. She rubbed the tip of her finger across an old scar on her knuckle as she began to explain.

“Queen learned. That was before Johnny lost the pickup in an all-night poker game. Lucky learned when she was in high school. Boyfriend taught her. I guess I kind of fell through the cracks.” She laughed and shrugged, but this time there was no joy in the sound, only bitterness.

Jesse didn’t know what to say. Every time he opened his mouth around this woman, he said the wrong thing.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I’ll learn someday.”

“I could teach you.”

She leaned back. Laughter rang out, and this time it was sincere. “You? Teach me to drive?” Another spate of laughter deflated his ego.

“I’d like to know why that’s so damned funny,” he said as he started out the driveway.

She chuckled and leaned forward to adjust the volume of music coming from his tape deck.

“You always have to be in control, Jesse. How could you do that if I’m behind the wheel?”

The car swerved. It was slight, but enough to tell her she’d hit home with her comment. For her own safety and peace of mind, she’d had to say it. She stared out the window, absorbing the sound of his music as the view blurred before her eyes.

Confusion warred with frustration as he turned onto the road leading toward the city. How did this woman, whom he’d known only three short days, know so damn much about him and his personality? Where did she get off constantly refusing every offer of kindness he made? For two cents he’d take her back where he’d found her and—

His thoughts stopped short. He was lying to himself, and he knew it. There was no way in hell he would take Diamond Houston back to Cradle Creek. Not if Tommy threatened to quit tomorrow. Not if she begged. Not if she made him mad as hell at least once a day. Not if his life depended on it.

Whether it was a feeling of portent or a silent admission of honesty, he had the strangest sensation that his last thought was nothing more than fact.

4

Nashville was more than
Diamond had expected and yet not as frightening as she’d imagined. She gawked and fidgeted as Jesse drove along the streets, unable to believe that she was actually there. Jesse turned off Broadway onto Fifth Street, and she took a deep breath as they drove past the Ryman Auditorium, the original home of the Grand Ole Opry. She imagined she could feel the lingering presence of music stars long gone and shivered in response to her fantasy.

Jesse watched Diamond’s eyes widen and saw her fingers tighten on the seat as they passed one landmark after another. Just seeing her excitement made him remember his own emotions years earlier—how much he’d wanted to succeed as a singer, though he knew that the odds were highly stacked against him. It had left him hovering somewhere between awe and despair. But that was before Tommy Thomas came into his life.

Diamond turned toward Jesse, her eyes shining, the corners of her lips tilted in a rare show of joy. Jesse inhaled sharply. The sudden vision of her lying beneath him with that same expression on her face made him swerve, barely missing a parked van on the street.

“Hell,” he muttered softly.

This kind of thinking would get him nowhere. He’d seen the touch-me-not look in her eyes often enough to get the message. Besides, he told himself, he hadn’t dragged her out of Cradle Creek just so he could sleep with her. He wanted to help her build a career. End of story.

But this thought did little to stem the heat simmering in him as he drove down Music Row toward the recording studio and parked his car. He watched her swing out one long leg and then the other before levering herself into a standing position.

“I wasn’t built for cars that small,” she said.

His grin was more like a grimace as he tried not to think of what she
had
been built for. A vivid image of her sensuous body and long legs made sweat break out on his forehead.

“Me neither,” he said, trying to forget his earlier fantasy as he settled his black Stetson firmly onto his head. “But I hadn’t yet outgrown my teenage fantasies when I had my first hit song. That car was the result.”

Diamond grinned at his confession, her eyes dancing with merriment as she tried to imagine a younger, more naive Jesse Eagle. It was impossible. She could see him younger, but naive? That took more imagination than she could muster.

As he led her across the parking lot, Diamond let the excitement she was feeling overflow. In a few moments she was actually going to see the inside of a recording studio. And, before the day was over, she’d see firsthand what it took to cut an album. There was also the satisfaction that she’d have an excuse to sit and look at Jesse Eagle while it happened. Although she was sleeping in the same house with him and eating at the same table, it was a luxury she had not allowed herself.

They entered the studio to find that most of the members of Muddy Road, Jesse’s band, had already arrived.

“Hey, hey, hey, Jess, old boy. I don’t know where you went for vacation, but I want the address. If there’s any more back there like her, I quit.”

Jesse’s gut jerked. It was an unexpected reaction to his bass guitar player’s remark. For some reason, he took instant offense at the idea of Diamond being the butt of anyone’s joke, no matter how innocent.

Mack Martin had a reputation with women that the guys in the band often joked about. Jesse didn’t need to see Diamond’s face to know that she was probably angry. He remembered Whitelaw’s Bar and knew that Diamond had certainly heard worse, but that didn’t change what he was feeling. His ability to appreciate the humor in Mack’s attitude had just disappeared.

A faint blush swept across Diamond’s cheeks, but her expression never wavered as she stared straight into the bearded man’s eyes.

His long, lank hair was streaked with gray, as was the bushy beard that framed his wide face. His mouth was smiling, but his eyes were hard.

Diamond watched the guitar bounce against his leg as he rose from a stool and started toward them. The name
Mack
was woven into the guitar strap. It fit him, she decided. He was as big as a Mack truck and about as ugly.

He slipped the guitar off his shoulder and enveloped Jesse in a boisterous hug. When Jesse wasn’t watching, he looked Diamond up and down in a suggestive manner, winked, and blew her a kiss.

“Damn, Mack! I haven’t had a greeting like this since my mother visited. If I’d known you cared, I would have written.” Jesse let the sarcasm in his words substitute for the spurt of anger he felt.

Mack laughed loudly, as did the rest of the band, and gave Jesse a firm slap on the back.

Jesse quickly introduced Diamond to the other men, started to explain why she was there, then stopped when he saw their smirks. They didn’t believe him, but he didn’t care. He knew when the time was right, Diamond would prove herself all on her own without any help from him. Her talent was proof enough.

Diamond’s smile never quite bloomed as she politely shook hands with each of the band members. Besides Mack, there was Jake, Monty, Al, and Dave. They all gave her varying looks of interest, none of which had anything to do with singing talent. And when Jesse’s manager arrived, she got another, more calculating look. But this time, it was not unexpected. Tommy Thomas didn’t like her, and considering their brief history, it was no wonder.

Tommy glared and then slid a practiced smile in place. He shook hands with Jesse and gave Diamond an offhand slap on the back as he swept past.

Diamond wisely ignored Tommy’s locker-room greeting and refused to respond to the antics of the men in the band. As the session got under way, they seemed to forget she was there. It was just the way she liked it. And so was Jesse’s music.

Five hours later, Jesse’s voice faded on the last note of the song he’d been singing, as strong and clear as when they’d begun. His broad hand splayed across the guitar strings and pressed gently, stilling them into silence.

Diamond shivered and leaned her head against the wall. Listening to him make love with his voice was almost too much for her to endure. And that was exactly what Jesse Eagle did with a song. He seduced and compelled, enticed and begged. And in the end, when the song was over, it was easy to believe that he’d been singing it just for her.

It was a singer’s magic and the trap that often caught his female listeners. Diamond was aware of his magnetism but determined not to believe in the magic his songs created. She knew he sang them for himself as much as for everyone else’s enjoyment. There was no one special woman in his life, but she suspected there was a long line of many who’d come and gone. She had no intention of falling for that line or into that trap, and it might have been possible to avoid doing so if she hadn’t seen what happened next.

Jesse leaned across the stand holding his sheet music and pointed toward a passage he intended to rearrange. His guitar lay across his lap, held firmly in place with one hand as he gestured with the other. And all the while he was talking, he unconsciously stroked the warm, golden wood with his fingertips, letting them run along the curve in the instrument as a man follows the shape of his woman’s body with his hands.

The strokes were long, slow, steady, and unceasing. She could see the moisture from his fingertips leaving small, almost invisible tracks across the wood.

Diamond jerked up, overturning her chair as she stalked out of the room.

The men looked up, surprised by the noise. She’d been so quiet, they’d almost forgotten she was present.

But not Jesse. He’d felt her presence throughout the day. He knew, to the moment, when she’d shifted in her chair and had seen her swing one long leg over the other as she changed position. He’d also heard her humming softly to herself through song after song. But her exit was unexpected, as was the expression he saw on her face. It was pain.

Jesse slid the guitar from his lap and called for a break.

The men smirked, allowing a few off-color remarks to surface as Jesse quickly followed Diamond out of the studio. Mack stared, mentally calculating the time it would take for Jesse to tire of her before he could make his move. Just looking at that woman made him hard.

The room she’d just left wasn’t hot, but Diamond was. Watching Jesse’s hands on that guitar had set a dream in motion that she’d been trying to deny existed. Try as she might, the feelings inside her were too strong to ignore. She knew the signs. They were rare, but it had happened once before when she was younger. Before she knew that all men lied and women cried. She was falling in love with a man who was already a legend in country music. It was probably the stupidest, most futile thing she’d ever done.

“Diamond, honey…are you all right?”

The concern in Jesse’s voice was unmistakable. So was the icy look she gave him when she turned and answered.

“I’m not your honey. I’m just tired and hungry. And I’m sorry I ruined whatever was going on.”

Jesse reacted to her anger, but not as she’d expected.

“I’m sorry, Diamond,” he said quietly. “It’s just a habit I have, calling women ‘honey.’”

“Figures.”

She was sick inside. She’d just come to the conclusion that she was falling in love with Jesse, and the first thing she did was lash out at his kindness. But she couldn’t stop it from happening. It was the only form of self-protection she had. If he never knew how she felt, he could never use it against her.

Jesse sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, shuffling it into disarray. He didn’t know what had prompted this latest outburst, but he knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to put his arms around her and hug away the pain he saw in those wide, green eyes. Instead, he dug a wad of bills from his pocket, stuffed them into her hand and pointed toward the small sandwich shop across the street.

“Food’s good. The roast beef sandwiches are the best. Take your time, eat all you want. But when you’re through, would you mind bringing back a dozen burgers? I’d really appreciate it, hon—”

Jesse sighed with frustration. He’d done it again. Honey! How had such a sweet word gotten him into so much trouble so quickly?