Rock My Christmas (FlameSmith in Love Book 1) (5 page)

Chapter Five

Kendel surely still dreamed. Burn’s gaze, hot and strangely vulnerable, held hers as he moved toward her. God, she was having a nightmare.

“No!” She scrambled backward off the bed. Her feet met the floor on their heels. She tottered, flailing her arms, and went down. Her rear hit so hard her entire body jarred. “Ugh.”

He peered past the edge of the mattress. “Is my breath that bad?”

Glaring at him, she rubbed her aching temples. Did he have to look so relieved?

“Are you okay?”

He’d tried to kiss her. No, she wasn’t okay. “I’m fine.”

He rose and stretched. Mesmerized, she marveled at the man’s sheer beauty. Sexual energy radiated from him. She pushed upright and tried not to resent him. How had they been in the same bed? Hadn’t she slept on the floor?

“We need to get moving. Bring your luggage to the front door. Someone’s supposed to be here at six to collect us.” He headed for the door.

“Wait.” She grimaced. A knot twisted her stomach. “Did we…? I mean, did anything…?”

He glanced at the bed then at her. His lips thinned before he said, “Don’t fear, Kendel. You didn’t do anything you’d regret.”

She relaxed. “Good. Okay. Do you want me to fix you something to eat before we go?”

“No time.” He gave her his back and went to the doorway but stopped. Without turning, he said, “Thank you for being decent to me when I don’t deserve it.”

Before she could say anything, he disappeared. She stood in shock for a second. He’d thanked her. Maybe he was human, after all.

Smiling with excitement, she hurried through her morning routine then finished packing. Korea! She’d never dreamt of such a trip. The thrill made her shake.

She rolled her carry-on to the front door. Standing next to it, she set her wallet atop it and donned her lanyard.

“That’s all you’re taking?” Dan came and parked two large silver hard-sided suitcases against the wall.

She shrugged. “It’s two nights. How much do I need?”

He chuckled. “A low-maintenance girl with your looks?”

“My looks?” She cast him an incredulous smirk. “Don’t take lessons from Burn. You’re not good at being mean.”

He blinked and opened his mouth to speak, but Burn pulled two huge black suitcases around the corner from the living room. “Damn it, Kendel. Get your shit. We’re ready to go.”

So much for his transition to humanity. Anger ignited, enflaming her throat. “This is my
shit
. I was ready to go before either of you, so get off my back.”

He scowled, casting her carry-on a disgusted look. “You can’t possibly have everything you’ll need in that small bag.”

“I’ll be fine. I don’t need much.” She swallowed against a surge of irritation. “Trust me.”

“I wish you’d stop saying that.” He nodded to Dan who opened the door.

“What? Trust me?”

He sniffed, his eyes harsh and the corners of his mouth turning downward.

She followed Dan to the hallway and began the trek to the elevator. “Maybe if you’d stop being so stubborn and realize that you can, I could quit saying it.”

“I’m not stubborn.”

“Yes, you are,” said Dan.

Kendel nodded. “Yep. Stubborn. Obstinate. Pigheaded. Call it whatever you like, but you’re a wall sometimes.”

The elevator arrived, and they crowded in with their luggage. Burn stared at her, and she suspected he attempted to intimidate her, so she held his unwavering gaze. Why’d he bother thanking her when he reverted to his intractable, ugly ways? His inconsistencies confused her. Did he play some twisted game?

A white van waited at the curb outside the building’s front entrance. Marty sat in the front passenger seat and offered a groggy wave through the window. The driver, wearing a black jacket, came inside. He wrote their names on luggage tags, which he attached to the suitcases. When he headed outside with Burn’s bags, Dan went too. FlameSmith emblazoned the back of the black jacket in red, gothic lettering.

She searched the gate for a FedEx truck.

“Let’s go,” said Burn.

She sent a worried glance to the dim security office then to the gate. “I need my passport.”

“Bloody hell. I forgot.” He strode to the security office and spoke with the officer behind the counter. As he returned, he shook his head.

Dan leaned through the glass front door without coming inside. “We need to leave.”

“My passport hasn’t arrived.” Kendel wrung her hands. She really wanted this trip, but she couldn’t hold them.

“Bugger!” Dan glanced at Burn then to where the driver loaded their suitcases into the van.

The doorman came through an unmarked door, adjusting his uniform.

“You guys go on,” she said, taking her wallet and heading for the reception desk. “I’ll try to catch up.”

The bass player sent Burn an unsure glance then went and climbed into the van.

She greeted the doorman and gave him her receipt from the post office. “Would you mind calling FedEx and checking on this package? Here’s the tracking number.”

Burn came to her side, a fierce determination lending his eyes a harder edge than usual.

“Please,” she whispered, disappointment weighing on her shoulders. “Don’t wait for me.”

He didn’t say anything for a full ten seconds. “Something tells me that if I leave you behind, you won’t be here when I return.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?” She averted her face so he wouldn’t witness her letdown. She’d had high hopes for this job only to discover she worked for a woman-hater. Now her chance to visit an exotic country took a dive.

“I told you I’d find a way to get you to Korea, even if I have to smuggle you in with the equipment.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “As much as I appreciate the sentiment, that’s hardly a practical course. If I got caught, they could put me in prison.”

“Ma’am,” said the doorman, handing her the receipt. “The lady said it left the loading dock on a delivery van forty-five minutes ago. She’s calling the driver.”

“Thank you.” She schooled her features and faced Burn. An unexpected sadness tightened her throat as she offered her hand. “You guys can’t wait, so I guess this is goodbye.”

*    *    *

“You’re my aide. You’re going.” He said to the doorman, “Did she say how long she’d take to ring us back?”

“No, Mr. Shatterly. I’m sorry.”

He gazed at Kendel, amazed how he’d grown accustomed to her face in two short days. The idea of her leaving angered him. It couldn’t have anything to do with her, surely. She was a woman and, therefore, simply bided her time until the opportunity arose to destroy him.

He went and grabbed the handle of her purple carry-on. “Sod this. I’m not making do without a PA. On tour is when I need you most.”

“But—” She followed him outside. When he opened the van and placed her bag inside, she cried, “Hey!”

“You’re going. Get in.”

“You’re impossible. Without a passport—”

“We’ll figure it out when we get to the airport.”

Marty rolled down her window. “Get in. You’re making us late.”

“My passport didn’t come.” Kendel’s bottom lip quivered ever so slightly, and a hint of moisture gathered in her large blue eyes.

Oh, no. Burn couldn’t handle her tears. Not from this strong, opinionated, determined woman. He could ignore manipulative tears all day, but not genuine ones. Not from her.

To his relief, a FedEx truck arrived at the gate. The doorman waved wildly from the desk, the phone to his ear, then pointed at the gate.

“It’s here. You’ve taken enough of our time. Let’s fetch your passport and go.”

When ire replaced her sadness, he relaxed. He ushered her into the transport van then climbed in beside her. By the time they reached the gate, the delivery truck was pulling away. A security guard in the booth had signed for the envelope and brought it to them as the gate opened. Marty took it, and they continued to the airport.

The other transport van sat parked at the terminal’s private entrance. V, Air, and Jay had already arrived and boarded. The driver loaded their luggage onto a cart, but Burn didn’t wait.

Dan led the way past a black door marked Private then rode an escalator to the second level. Burn stepped onto a metal climbing stair and slung his satchel onto one shoulder, reassured by the clunk of wheels as Kendel pulled her carry-on onto the escalator behind him.

What was it about her that reassured him? Maybe bringing her into bed last night had been a mistake. He couldn’t afford to soften toward her. The moment he showed any weakness, she’d take advantage. She’d use him then discard him like so much rubbish.

He exited at the top and headed for gate twenty-eight. How many times had they done this? He’d lost count.

Kendel came to his side as they strode forward. “Don’t we have to go through security?”

“It’s a private flight, not commercial. We’re no threat to our own flight crew, and we’re going to Korea to work, so we’re no political threat, either. No security check-in.” He offered a brief nod to a smiling ticket agent who waved them through the gate that led to the plane.

“Your flight crew? So the band owns this plane?”

He glanced at her. Excitement vibrated from her. It reminded him how these trips used to give him a charge. “No, it belongs to the record label. We get to use it when they book the event.”

“I have so many butterflies I can barely breathe. I can’t believe this is really happening.”

Walking backward, he held up his phone and took a picture of Dan and Marty at a coffee stand. He smiled despite himself. Kendel lacked pretense. Even when this had all been new to him, he’d pretended boredom and assurance. He hadn’t wanted people to see his heart.

She didn’t seem to mind showing her enthusiasm, however. Part of him admired her. Part of him pitied her. One day, she’d meet harsh reality and learn to keep the open, vulnerable parts of her soul hidden and protected under a hard shield of cynicism.

“Good morning,” greeting an attractive, middle-aged flight attendant.

“Good morning,” Kendel replied brightly. “Wow. This is so nice.”

Dan went past and disappeared into a private cubicle on the right, and Burn tossed his satchel into a cubby at the very rear of the first class cabin. “You’re back there.”

“Comin’ through,” said Marty, carrying a yellow and black duffle in one hand and a covered coffee in the other. She pushed past. “Follow me, Blaze.”

Kendel glanced at him and arched her eyebrows.

He fingered a soft ringlet. “It’s to do with the hair, I believe.”

“Huh.” She shrugged. “I think I like it. Blaze. Makes me sound exotic and adventurous.”

His eyes went to her lips, and his body stirred. “You are that.”

She slapped his arm. “Stop teasing. I guess I’ll see you in Korea.”

He shook his head as she shimmied with a grin then wheeled her bag further into the jet. He hadn’t thought to ask if she suffered motion sickness. They faced twelve hours in the air. What if she—

He growled and plopped into his seat. What did he care, damn it? Marty and the flight attendants would see to her. He fastened his seatbelt then adjusted the volume down on his private video screen. Whatever happened, he planned to sleep through it.

Chapter Six

Takeoff in such a large jet didn’t compare to anything else Kendel had experienced, though amusement park ride came to mind. She finally cleared her ears when a flight attendant came with a tray of juices and took her breakfast order.

The plane was huge, with three rows of five seats across, so the assistants and others had an entire row each to her own.

Marty came and sat next to her. “How are you doing?”

“Incredible. Amazing.”

“You’re like a puppy.” The Goth woman rolled her pale blue eyes. She handed her a black jacket like the driver had worn. “This is yours. While we’re on tour, you wear this at all times outside of the hotel. It’s easier to spot than your pass tag.”

“Thanks.” Kendel set it in the seat next to her. “Do you travel like this all the time?”

“Enough.” Marty took an orange juice from the tray of a passing attendant and downed the entire cup’s contents on a single breath. “Get some sleep. We start work the moment we land, and there won’t be rest until the show’s over tomorrow night.”

“Wait. Tomorrow?”

Marty smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Korea’s ten hours ahead of us, which means it’s four this afternoon there. We’ll be landing early tomorrow morning.”

“So we’re going to be working all day.” Kendel marveled. They’d be ready to drop after the concert.

“Yeah, and all night. After the concert, the guys will have to schmooze with VIPs at an after party. Where the guys go…”

“We go. Sounds insane.” She tried to imagine.

“You’ll see.” The assistant made to get up.

“Hold on. How come the plane’s not full? This is a tour, isn’t it?” Kendel glanced past her seatback. She only counted twelve.

“Assistants, wardrobe, some security, and the white-collars. You know – manager, secretary, and accountant. The rest of the crew, head of security, and assistant managers left two days ago with the equipment. Should be about set up by now. There are always technical issues when we go overseas, so the crew goes early and works out the bugs before we get there.”

Made sense. “How long have you been working for Dan?”

“Four years. Here comes breakfast. Try and sleep, okay?”

“I will.”

Breakfast tasted good, which she hadn’t expected. When the attendant cleared, Kendel puzzled through how to lever the armrests up then stretched across the five seats. The lights dimmed. One attendant went through the cabin, lowering shades over the windows, while another distributed pillows and blankets.

Kendel tried for half an hour, but her mind refused to relinquish imaginings of the next few days. She explored for a while, locating the bathroom, an unused seating area at the rear, and a flight attendant’s station where she accepted a bottle of water.

The plane trembled then dropped out from under her feet. She gasped and grabbed a counter in the station. Her heart hammered.

“It’s just turbulence, dear,” said the woman. “Take your seat and fasten your seatbelt.”

Turbulence? She’d flown before, but turbulence had been some shaking. Nothing that took the floor out from under her. While she maneuvered along the aisle, attendants woke the others and asked them to buckle in.

Kendel hit her seat too hard as the plane leaped, taking her knees out. She strapped in with shaking hands, the floor shuddering violently.

“Whoa.” Burn chuckled. He gripped the seatback in front of her then swung past her and plunked into the window seat. “How are you?”

“Scared,” she whispered. She gripped the water bottle as if it could save her. “Are we going to crash?”

The pilot’s voice crackled over invisible speakers, but she couldn’t understand much of what he said.

“It’s fine,” said Burn. “This patch is pretty bad, but I’ve been through worse.”

“Worse? Really?” She released a pent breath.

The lights brightened, and the click of belts sounded around the cabin. He looked rough, like he’d taken a two-hour nap after not sleeping for three days. His eyelids puffed and he appeared a couple shades paler.

She handed him the water. “Maybe I should ask how you are.”

He removed the cap then lifted the bottle in a salute. “Cheers.”

“Merely doing my job.”

He downed half the water. “I’m tired, but I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me, neither.”

The plane dropped so suddenly it sent her stomach into her throat and made the seatbelt bite into her hips.

“Hey.” He took her hand. “You look about ready to lose it.”

“We’re going to crash.” Her blood pounded in her ears.

“Listen,” he said in a low, calm voice. “Hear the engines revving?”

She swallowed hard but managed to nod.

“The pilot’s changing altitude. He’s going to get us out of this.”

The airliner shook so hard she felt it to her bones. “It’s not working. Oh, God.”

“Come here.” He gave her hand a tug.

“I can’t.”

“Remove your restraint. I’ve got you. Trust me.” He loosened his belt enough to turn.

As he slid a leg along the seat creases, she realized he didn’t wear shoes. He shifted her pillow behind him then held an arm wide in invitation, and she’d never wanted to be in a man’s comforting arms more.

Kendel shed her buckle and shot into his embrace as the plane trembled. Clamping her arms around his hard body, she rested her head on his chest and held on for her life. “Are you sure we’re going to be okay?”

The engines screamed. The airliner crackled amidst another teeth-jarring shudder. Somehow, in his arms, it frightened her less. He tightened his embrace and rested his chin atop her head.

She sighed. “It’s not fair.”

In a quiet, sleepy voice, he asked, “What’s not fair?”

“You’re allowed to tell me to trust you, but I’m not allowed to tell you to trust me.”

“Mmm. Sorry about the shower thing. Disaster.”

She smiled. “Thanks for apologizing.”

“It’s only right.”

“I like listening to you speak. What is it about a British accent that’s so appealing?”

“I can’t say I agree. Personally, I prefer listening to a Frenchman speak English. They can even make German sound good.”

She smiled bigger. “I wish we could be like this all the time.”

“I’m a pathetic mess, I’m afraid.”

“I didn’t ask to work for an egocentric misogynist.”

“Well, bad luck.”

She laughed.

“I haven’t always been so buggered. I’d always been a nerdy bloke. Women are a mystery. For me, you see, FlameSmith’s to do with the music. Falling in love was a dreadful error. And I’m such a wanker, I went and did it twice. I deserved what I got.”

“That’s a cynical view.”

“Perhaps, but it’s my truth. Marty said you’re a graduate student.”

The engines evened in tone and the plane stilled. She made to pull away, but he held her close.

“Don’t go. I’m more relaxed than I’d hoped. Let’s stay this way for a while longer.”

The seatbelt signs blinked out, the lights dimmed, and she closed her eyes. Relaxing completely against his firm strength, she said, “I graduated. I’m finished with school.”

“What is poking me in the back?” he asked, shifting slightly and pulling her passport from her jacket pocket behind him. He opened it and studied her information.

“I’ll take that, thank you,” she said, plucking it from his hand and tucking it into her back pocket.

Spreading her blanket over her, he said, “She said you went to a good school.”

“Mm-hmm. Notre Dame. I’ll be able to take my degree and get a position about anywhere I want. It’s not Yale or Harvard, but it’s one of the best.”

“I’ve heard of it. What’s your degree?”

“I earned an MBA.”

“Indeed? Well done you. If you’re so brilliant, why are you working for me?”

“Long story.”

“Perfect. It’s a long plane ride.”

She considered brushing it aside and changing the subject, but she enjoyed this rare openness he shared. If she wanted him to answer her questions truthfully, she had to answer his in a forthright manner.

“I’d like to say it’s my dad’s fault, but I have to own that the flaw is mine. I’ve hungered for adventure and travel for a few years now. I tried to ignore it so I could finish school, but it’s time for me to scratch this itch so I can settle into a normal life.” She snuggled into his warmth.

He sighed softly, a contented sound. “What’s a normal life?”

“A day job with weekends and holidays off. A house in a quiet neighborhood. A husband. A couple kids. Maybe a dog. A home to raise a family where my children can feel secure.”

“It sounds quite sensible and deadly dull. Why is this your ideal?”

She winced. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because I’m interested. Don’t ask me why, but you interest me.”

Kendel let a long, slow breath buy her a moment to find words. “My father was a gypsy at heart. He never kept a job longer than a year, and we never lived in a place longer than three. I got so weary of saying goodbye to friends that, at some point, I just stopped making them. We never had enough money. Never had any place to call home. It’s not the life I wanted, and it’s not the life I want for my children.”

“So you’re using me.” His voice rasped on a sleepy note rather than an angry one.

“You make me sound sordid.”

“You’re a woman aren’t you?”

She let him go and pushed, but he refused to lighten his hold. “Why do you have to be so nasty?”

He chuckled. “This isn’t nasty. You haven’t seen nasty from me, and I’m determined you won’t.”

Tensing, she asked, “Are you flirting with me?”

He barked a laugh.

“Hey,” said Marty a few rows back. “Some of us are trying to sleep.”

“If I flirted with you,” Burn said in a near whisper, “you’d know it without a doubt.”

Reluctantly, she relaxed.

“Tell me more about your family,” he said.

She sighed, picturing her mother in kitchen after kitchen. “I thought my mom was a doormat until I got older and realized she loved my dad enough to put up with his nonsense. She was the only steady part of my life, especially when my father became a cargo driver and left for weeks at a time.”

“She was a good parent?”

“The best. I hoped I’d turn out like her. I still do. I just need to feed this travel bug I got from my dad, I guess. Then I can be free of this restlessness.” She closed her eyes. Even if Burn was an ass, he was a handsome ass who felt comfortable under her.

“What if you can’t set your travel bug free? Or rather, what if it refuses to go?”

“I can’t consider that.”

His chin rested once more atop her head. “What if you’re a bit of both? In the small time you’ve worked for me, I can already see you take excellent care of me. Surely you inherit this from your mother. Would it be so tragic if you also inherited your father’s wanderer’s spirit?”

“Maybe not bad for me, but I can’t imagine any family enjoying a nomad’s life.” The weight of slumber began to settle upon her, and she snuggled onto him.

“My father was a highly successful musician. We had a home in Manchester but traveled quite often. I rather liked it. So did my brother. Now my da’s retired, and they still live in the house. It’s home. Wanting travel and adventure doesn’t have to be a curse.”

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Tell me about you. How come you hate women? You don’t hate your mother, do you?”

He took a deep breath and slowly released it. “No, I don’t hate my mum. She’s the best of women. I’ve come to realize she was cut from a different pattern.”

“Not all women are bad,” said Kendel. “In fact, most of the women I know are pretty great.”

“To you, maybe. But then, you’re one of them, aren’t you? Partner one with a man and see how she schemes and manipulates. It’s a travesty.”

“All women?”

“Well, not my mum.”

She smiled weakly. “Not mine, either. And not me.”