Entangled Hearts (6 page)

Later that evening in Chynna's room, she walked Kenya through her wardrobe and what she would wear to hang out, go to the club or wear on stage. Kenya wouldn't be caught dead in the flashy, sparkly, tight-fitting clothes that Chynna wore.

“Try this one.” Chynna held up some snug skinny jeans and a spaghetti strap plunge top.

Kenya frowned with distaste, but tried on the garments. “Totally not my style.”

“Well, you're going to have to learn to love it,” Chynna said, “because it's yours for the next week.”

After she slid the jeans over her curvy hips and pulled the sparkling top down, Kenya turned around to stare at her reflection in the mirror. She was surprised to see that she actually looked quite hot in Chynna's clothes.

“See? I told you,” Chynna said as Kenya continued to stare at herself in the mirror. “You don't know how sexy you truly are.”

Kenya spun around to admire her behind in the skinny jeans.

“Now that you have the clothes,” Chynna said, “you need the attitude and walk to go with it.” She stood up to demonstrate her infamous walk that to Kenya looked like a fashion model's walk on the runway.

“When you're at an event, don't look anyone in the face,” Chynna said, looking straight ahead as she walked. “Look beyond them as if what you're about to do it is ten times more important.”

“And is it?”

Chynna laughed. “Usually, but not always.” She stopped suddenly and turned around to face Kenya. “Listen, you're a diva. Or that's what people think of me. Act like it. Never pour your own drink or pull out your own chair. Let someone else do that for you.”

“I don't know if I can get used to being waited on hand and foot. I'm used to doing for myself. I'm an independent woman.”

“Well, in
my world
,”
Chynna emphasized, “you have people to do that for you. Derrick is your hair stylist. He will hook up any style or weave you want. He's a talker, always wanting to talk about what straight man he's turned gay, so be ready to listen. Daisy is my makeup artist, a loud Goth girl, who I can't quite understand why she hangs out with our bunch because she likes heavy metal music, but she makes me,
now you,
look fabulous. Then there's Megan.
She's my wardrobe stylist. Let her pick out things for you. Don't be afraid to try on her crazy ideas, because they'll usually come together in surprising ways.”

Kenya was exhausted just listening to all the people who were in Chynna's orbit and fluttered around her every day.
How does she live with the excess?
“Anything else?”

“Well, that brings me to my upcoming music video.”

“Oh Lord!” Kenya rolled her eyes upward. She'd never been much of a dancer and doubted now would be any different. There was no way she was going to learn all of Chynna's routines in, she glanced at her watch, six hours.

“You're going to have to fake it till you make it,” Chynna replied. “I'm going to show you some of my basic moves and you're just going to have wing it. Worst case, my male dancers will come in and help you out. Follow their lead.”

Kenya stared at her incredulously. “Chynna, you're a great dancer and I'm not. Yes, I can sing and I know all your songs by heart, but dancing? This is a stretch.”

Chynna ignored Kenya's protestations and went over the docking station that housed her iPod. She swirled her thumb around until she came to one of her more energetic songs and turned up the music. “Alright, Kenya, show me what you're working with.”

Hours later, sweaty and hungry, Kenya watched the chef make what would be her final meal with her sister for the imminent future. Deacon had arranged for Chynna's plane to come to Tucson and a car would be sent the next morning to fetch her,
Kenya
that was.

Am I really ready for this?
Sure, she'd said she could do it. But after a few hours of practicing Chynna's major routines and prancing around in her five-inch heels and sexy outfits, Kenya was exhausted. Imitation was supposed to be the sincerest form of flattery, but Kenya wasn't sure she could pull it off.

“I know this seems daunting,” Chynna said, coming to sit beside her, “but I have absolute faith in you.”

“Yeah, because it'll be my butt out there singing and dancing onstage every night while you're here relaxing and having massages and facials.”

“You don't know how, how much this means to me, Kenya.” Chynna's voice broke when she spoke. “I've been under so much pressure the last few years to stay on top, to be the best, to stay relevant. I'm at the end of my rope. I just need a little time to myself to remember what it is I truly like about this business.”

Kenya frowned. “Are you thinking of retiring and doing a Lauryn Hill?”

Chynna shrugged. “I don't know.” When Kenya's eyes grew large like saucers, Chynna rephrased, “I doubt it. I think I'm just burned out. Your taking my place for a while is just what I need. I can't thank you enough, twinie.”

Chynna reached for Kenya's hand and gave her a squeeze. “I'm happy I can do this for you. But you know this is only for a short while, and that you'll have to come back to your life.”

“I know, I know.”

Chapter 5

C
hynna stared out the window
of the villa as her sister drove away in the limousine Deacon had sent for her. She felt a little sad and bereft at losing her other half after two weeks together but excited at the prospect of having her life to herself for the next week or more. She knew it was extremely selfish of her to ask Kenya for this gift, and the fact her twin would do this told Chynna of the depth of her love. And that even though their mother was gone, Chynna still had someone left who loved her and remembered her before all the fame and fortune got a hold of her.

This time would be a period of self-discovery for her, a reminder that she was more than just a
brand
and sex symbol. Sometimes, Deacon, Fiona, Lucas and especially Eli forgot she was a real person with real feelings and emotions. They just expected her to get onstage and perform like she was some kind of circus act. Forget that she'd been on tour the better part of the last five years. Forget that she hadn't had a real vacation, other than a few days here and there and an odd weekend with Kenya in New York.

Chynna was looking forward to some much needed R&R; she was really looking forward to nice long hikes in the mountains. Kenya had been raving about it for the last couple of weeks, but Chynna hadn't been interested in it until now. Now she had plenty of time on her hands to enjoy the sights and sounds without worrying about what was around the corner.

After a quick shower, Chynna put on her khaki shorts, tank top and laced up her tennis shoes and headed for the door for whatever adventure awaited her. She hoped Kenya would enjoy hers too.

Butterflies swarmed in the pit of Kenya's stomach as she sat in the back of the limo. When it had arrived at the villa doorstep earlier that morning, she'd thought she'd been prepared. Dressed in one of Chynna's designer outfits complete with miniskirt, big gold hoops, Prada shades and gold stilettos, Kenya looked just like her, but as soon as the doorbell rang, Kenya had thought about dashing.

Even though they hadn't always had the strongest of relationships, she'd promised Chynna she'd do this. Not to mention Chynna was offering her the chance to act out her fantasy of what it would be like to live a day in her sister's shoes. And she wouldn't just live a day. She would live a week. It would be
the
most important acting job of her entire career.
Can I convince everyone in Chynna's life that I'm the real deal?

She was now finding out, because as she slid inside the limo, she was greeted by a strong masculine hand pulling her inside and down onto the plush leather seat beside him. When she managed to look up at who was manhandling her, she found herself staring into a pair of eyes as dark as midnight and like nothing she'd ever seen. Kenya swallowed hard.

“Thought I'd better come fetch you myself,” Lucas Kingston said at Kenya's dumbfounded expression, “in case you tried to make a run for it.”

All of Chynna's words went out the window and Kenya snatched her arm away. “I don't care to be manhandled.”

“Then don't run off and leave me holding the bag and making apologizes to promoters and your fans,” Lucas replied. “I don't find your antics amusing, Chynna. You cost me a lot of money.”

“Then perhaps you need to think about giving your slaves a day out of the fields, massa,” Kenya drawled.

Lucas's head spun around to face her, surprised by her outburst. He stared at Kenya strangely.
Have I already messed this up?
“Wow! Someone went away for a couple of weeks and got a smart mouth.”

Kenya smoothed down her miniskirt, which kept rising up her thigh, much to her consternation, but obviously not to Lucas's because he watched her discomfort and a bemused smile spread across his face. “What's with you, Chynna?” he inquired. “I'd think you'd be hiking that skirt up a bit more for my benefit.”

Kenya huffed and looked out the window.
Never look anyone in the face
. “Well, perhaps I got tired of waiting for you to notice.”

Lucas laughed and Kenya felt the rich timbre reach her very core. No wonder Chynna had a crush on this man. He was all man and all sex. He was handsome, dark chocolate with close-cut hair and a sexy swagger. He wore a silver pinstriped suit and was the type of man who commanded attention and exuded charisma, but that also made him very arrogant.

“You're full of fire today,” Lucas replied. “Makes me curious to find out why.”

Kenya turned the full glare of her hazel eyes on Lucas. “In your dreams.”

Lucas moved backward to assess her more carefully. “So, it's like that now, huh? Now that I've shown an inkling of an interest, you're no longer into me?”

“Who said I ever was?” Kenya threw back at him. “Perhaps it was all in your head, and I don't mean the one on top of your shoulders.”

“Ouch!” Lucas touched his chest as if mortally wounded. “The claws have come out today.” He couldn't remember a time when Chynna had acted less interested in him then she was that very moment. He didn't understand it. The woman was a mystery he might be curious to unearth.

“C'mon.” Kenya laughed. “I doubt you're all that wounded. You'll have a bevy of beauties surrounding you in L.A. in no time, eager for some time with the top music executive.”

“Would that make you jealous?” Lucas asked. He didn't know why he was toying with Chynna when it was obvious she'd moved on from her infatuation with him; he didn't know why that bothered him. Perhaps because today she'd shown fire and hadn't minded telling him where to go instead of acting like a yes-woman as she had of late. Where had this Chynna been?

“Not in the slightest,” Kenya said and proceeded to put in the earbuds she'd thankfully remembered to throw into Chynna's oversized Ferragamo tote.

The rest of the ride to the airport was fraught with silence, and Kenya didn't choose to change it. She needed to keep Lucas Kingston at a distance. It wouldn't do to have him too close and risk him discovering their secret. If he discovered what they were up to, they would go down in flames.

Noah road the stallion
that
he'd finally broken after two long weeks along the perimeter of the family's Golden Oaks Ranch. He was the oldest Hart, followed by Rylee. Then there was Caleb, the youngest of his siblings. If you said tomato, Caleb said tomahto. He always had to be contrary. Had been that way since the day he was born. Noah had wanted to strangle the little boy with the smart mouth who followed him everywhere. But there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for his baby brother or Rylee, for that matter. Family meant everything to him.

It's why he'd come back to the ranch after graduation and receiving his degree in Business Administration. He'd wanted to grow the family business from just a cattle ranch, and he had. Golden Oaks was still a working cattle ranch, but it was also a dude ranch where tourists could come to hike, horseback ride, and fish and engage in any other activity that reminded them of days gone by.

Noah disembarked from the horse and tied the reins to the fence. He stared out at the cows grazing in a nearby pasture. He'd hoped to have a family of his own one day, but apparently that hadn't been God's will. And Noah had had a bone to pick with the man upstairs ever since. How could someone as beautiful and kind as Maya be gone and murderers and rapists live long, healthy lives? It just didn't seem fair.

He was so deep in thought he didn't see the Jeep swerve away from one of the cows that had broken free from the pack until the Jeep came speeding toward him. Noah only had moments to loosen the reins and send the horse to safety before tossing himself to the ground to avoid the car that smashed into the ranch's fence.

“What the hell?” Noah swore as he rose from the ground and wiped off the grass from his jeans. Then he noticed the airbag had deployed in the Jeep, and he rushed over to make sure the driver wasn't injured.

Swiftly, he opened the driver's door. The driver was female. Her head was pressed down on the steering wheel, so he gently lifted her head to assess the damage. Her hair was in her face and when he brushed it back to check for cuts and bruises, he was surprised to see the most beautiful woman he'd ever met, save for the swelling bruise on her forehead.

Her eyes flickered open, and he caught the specks of green in their murky depths. She blinked several times, clearly disoriented. “It's okay,” he whispered softly. “You crashed, but you're okay.”

She glanced around her, unfamiliar with her surroundings, and Noah heard the sweetest voice ever say, “Where am I?”

“On my family's ranch. You crashed into our fence.”

“Ah.” Chynna shook her head. “Now, I remember. A damn cow came at me and attacked.”

Noah chuckled, amused by her word choice. “I highly doubt he attacked you. Cows don't like vehicles. She was just trying to get away from your Jeep.”

“Didn't seem that way to me,” Chynna said as she unsuccessfully tried to move and disentangle herself from the seatbelt wrapped around her. “Wait a second. Are they yours?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You need to warn your cows about drivers on the road.”

“Well, you're the one on private property,” he responded evenly.

“Am I?” Chynna asked, scratching her head. “I must have made a wrong turn on the way back to Canyon Ranch.”

So she was one of
those
women, Noah surmised. Women who have so much free time on their hands they have to sit around, getting pampered all the time.

“Here, let me help you with that.” He leaned over to help unbuckle her seatbelt.

“Thank you,” Chynna said, then spun so she could lower her feet to the ground, but when she did, the ground all of sudden began to spin around her, and she clutched the muscled arm of her rescuer.

“Easy,” Noah said. “You just hit your head and need to take it easy.”

The woman attempted to shake him off, but he had a firm hand on her arm to keep her steady.

“I can take care of myself,” she said.

“That's debatable,” Noah replied.

Her eyes narrowed at him.

“Why don't you let me take you back to the ranch? We'll get you looked at, and I'll get someone to take care of your vehicle.”

“That's really not necessary,” she said and wiggled her arm out of his grasp to stand up straight.

“I insist,” Noah pressed. “You need to have that bump looked at.” He inclined his head to the growing bump at the base of her hairline.

The woman reached up to touch her forehead and a frown formed on her mouth.

“So, what's it going to be?” Noah asked.

“That depends on two things,” she replied.

“Oh, yeah? What's that?”

“Well, first, I don't know your name, and second, how are we going to get back to your ranch?” She glanced around and didn't see any vehicles nearby.

Noah offered her his hand. “The name's Noah Hart. My family owns Golden Oaks Ranch. And our mode of transportation is that lovely horse.” He pointed to a stallion grazing about a hundred yards away.

The woman pointed to the horse
. “
You expect me to ride on that?”

“Do you have a better idea? The only other way home is to walk, and I promise you in this eighty-five- degree heat, you don't want to burn that pretty little skin of yours.”

He noticed just how fair her café-au-lait skin was and just how smooth. There were no visible marks on her clear skin ... skin that he had an overwhelming desire to touch and see if it was as smooth as it looked.

The woman thought about it for a moment and then said, “I guess I have no choice since your cattle ran me off the road.”

Noah laughed at her constantly changing story. “But before I allow some reckless driver to ride my horse, I don't believe I caught your name either.”

The woman paused for what seemed like an eternity before giving him her answer. Didn't she know her own name? Or was it that she didn't want to tell him. She finally responded. “Kenya. Kenya James.”