Rock Steady (11 page)

He didn’t want Jewel near them.

As soon as the thought passed his mind, he grinned. Seeing Jewel hold her own against those balding, pudgy bastards, who thought they owned the world, would make his day.

She’d do it, too. Keep them in their place or refuse to share her art with them. She had grit and spunk. A spirit that wasn’t going to surrender to being shackled, no matter how hard life became as a result.

He fucking loved that about her.

And it scared the shit out of him, too.

He transmitted his emotions into his music as he thought, tipping his head back as he dissolved into the notes. Syon backed him up, letting him take the lead. It was like letting a piece of himself be ripped off his chest. It stung, and that just made him feel more alive.

Like Jewel did.

The thought refused to be pushed aside. It sat on his mind, lingering as he and Syon played. Sometime in the early hours of the morning, Kate appeared, her hair clipped on top of her head as she came in from checking on their wardrobe. She cast a look toward her husband, one that Ramsey was certain warmed Syon. The connection between the two was palpable. Syon set his guitar down and followed her into the other side of the suite, where their bedroom was.

It was far from the first time he’d watched them retire for the night.

Tonight, it was different.

He ignored the sensation, refusing to name it as he wandered down the hallway. Drake was entertaining. Music spilled out of his suite, mixed with the sound of laughter. There was a top lying on the floor of the hallway, making it clear Drake was partying.

His cock didn’t even stir.

Ramsey gritted his teeth and made his way to his suite. It was huge, as well as decked out. The cost for one night equaled Jewel’s monthly rent on the armpit loft. There had been times when he’d just enjoyed the extravagance, for the sake of knowing he could afford it. Tonight, he felt hollow. Like a rich kid with a pile of toys and no one to play with.

Syon was right; he wasn’t happy.

Normally, he ignored it. Popped the top off a beer and numbed his wits enough to enjoy being played with by the fans who wanted to score with Ramsey of Toxsin. Tonight, he fell asleep, convinced he could smell the scent of Jewel’s hair lingering in the bedroom. His cock stirred at that, keeping him from true oblivion.

* * *

Before noon was considered early on a concert tour. The top floor of the Hyatt wasn’t really stirring when Ramsey reached over and plucked his cell phone off the bedside table. He was tired but not really sleeping. He slipped his fingertip across the screen to unlock it. The display filled with emails, but he tapped on an alert that had come in. He kept tabs on his name being used on the Internet. Even if most of it was wildly exaggerated gossip, he wanted to know who was talking trash about him. It made life so much more interesting when those same people tried to kiss up to him in person. They were just trying to use him to get their twenty seconds of fame and they’d never think twice about playing him for a fool if he didn’t watch his back. So yeah, he wanted to know who was talking smack about him. Becoming famous had taught him to be very careful about whom he considered a friend.

And that really stank.

The normal websites appeared. Road Kill was boasting a fuzzy photo of his new tattoo. He scrolled through the images of him on stage, sitting up when he found one of him fighting with Taz. What snared his complete attention was the headline attached to it.

The romance is over for Syon of Toxsin… Band members brawling in Portland over lead singer’s infidelity.

There was a full-color shot of Syon on top of Jewel.

He reached over, grabbed the hotel phone, punched in Jewel’s room number. It rang and rang before going to voice mail.

“Shit.” He dropped the phone and tried her cell from his. Her voice mail picked up.

Ramsey rolled out of bed, landing on his feet as he typed in a line of commands on his phone. He cursed again when the tracking chip on Jewel’s phone came back as nonfunctioning.

She had no idea the paparazzi were hunting her.

It was his fault for not cluing her in, too. He’d been too distracted to focus on the business and personal details of having her on tour. In short, he’d dropped the ball the second his cock got hard. He dressed and went down the hall in the hopes she was still in the hotel. He pounded on her door, but there was no response. He laid his fist on it again, and kept at it long enough that a couple of doors farther down the hall opened to investigate the racket.

“Come on, Jewel,” he said.

Brenton appeared in the hallway, a little less polished looking than normal. He’d clearly rolled straight out of his rack. “Problem?”

“A picture of Syon on top of Jewel is plastered across the Internet,” Ramsey said.

Brenton stared at Ramsey in disbelief.

“They will eat her alive,” Ramsey growled. “Give me that override key.”

Brenton was already digging into his pocket before he decided what he wanted to say. “I can handle this.”

“As soon as I find her, I expect you to.” Ramsey pushed past Brenton when the door to Jewel’s room was open. It took him exactly thirty seconds to confirm she wasn’t inside. He paused for a moment, distracted by the sketch pad on the table. Damn, her art was spellbinding, just like her, and he needed to find her fast, before some of their more unstable fans cornered her. It had been a hell of a long time since he’d cared about anyone except his teammates. Sure, they were bandmates now, but they’d forged a bond in Afghanistan; that was the foundation of their relationship.

Jewel was merging across that line, doing something no one else ever had, and he wasn’t sure what he thought about it.

Bullshit. It’s got you off balance.

Fine, whatever.

Brenton was waiting for him at the door, his expression blank, but Ramsey caught the hint of disgruntlement in the man’s eyes.

“Sorry,” Ramsey said. “I’m a little charged. When I find her, let’s discuss security details.”

Brenton nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

Taz was leaning against the wall in the hallway when Ramsey started toward the elevators. There was a look on his face that stung when Ramsey passed him. But Ramsey only made it a couple of steps before he turned on his bandmate.

“I just don’t want the paparazzi to rattle her,” he said. “I haven’t explained their piranha personality to her yet.”

Ramsey flipped his phone up, showing off a snapshot of Syon lying on top of Jewel in the hotel entrance. Taz straightened.

“That’s not good,” Taz said. “Did you try calling her?”

Ramsey rolled his eyes as he walked into an elevator and Taz followed. “No, I decided to try the bloodhound approach first, because I’ve always wanted to be a hound dog.”

“You do act like a dog…sometimes…well…to be honest…a lot of the time.” Taz shrugged when Ramsey flipped him the bird.

The elevator doors opened, and Ramsey headed toward the security desk. The manager stood up inside the glass-enclosed office and came out when he recognized the hotel’s VIPs. Ramsey changed the picture on his phone to one of Jewel. “She left sometime in the last few hours…give me details.”

* * *

Portland was a lot like San Francisco. Jewel stopped at a corner and considered the gray clouds keeping the city wet with a soft sprinkle of rain. Instead of a bay, there were hills covered in tall trees. What helped make the city seem like San Francisco was all the bicycles. People were happily pedaling their way through the streets, making the cars stick to the center lanes. All along the inner-city sidewalks were bike racks. The hotel even had bikes for their guests, an amenity she’d happily taken advantage of.

A distraction was a distraction. Besides, life was short. Any day, she might have to pack it in and start toeing the line in a more…stable career. The nine-to-five grind, complete with boring wardrobe and a nice little cubicle. She cringed at the mental image. Until then, she was going to enjoy every moment of her wild, carefree days. Or at least she’d decided that the opportunity to see Portland was one she wasn’t going to squander. Ramsey might wake up and decide she was way more trouble than she was worth.

You’re totally worth it.

She smiled at her own comment. At least her confidence was still holding up. Considering the guy reeked sex appeal, she was going to score a point for herself for not folding under the pressure of being in contact with his very decadent body.

Contact? He’d been naked…

Yeah, he had been, and honestly, worthy of being in the buff. So, make that two points. He was an extreme circumstance. She deserved bonus points for not jumping his oh-so-delectable bones.

Her cheeks heated, but she enjoyed the sting. If nothing else, it warmed her face. Her nose felt like an ice cube.

Jewel looked at the street signs at the intersection and waited for the light to change. When it was green, she pushed off the curb and joined the bike traffic. A car buzzed by too close, spraying her with water. She recoiled, her grip on the handlebars of the bike tightening as she tried to control it. The wet conditions of the road made it impossible. The bike slipped and tilted, dumping her. At least she landed on the sidewalk. It was a hard landing, sending a jolt of pain through her hip, but it beat becoming roadkill.

The car pulled over, skidding to a halt in front of her.

“Are you okay?”

Jewel struggled to her feet, feeling clumsy while trying to pull the bike off the street as other bikes rang their bells and shouted at the car blocking the way.

“Stellar,” Jewel said. “Better move your car before—”

A flash went off about a foot from her face. It was so bright, it blinded her. She blinked as another couple of flashes went off.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“How long have you been Syon Braden’s lover?” the driver of the car asked, holding a recording device in her face. “The fans want to know if his wife is letting him have an open marriage.”

“You’re…wrong…” Jewel said. She wanted to say “sick” but dug deep for professionalism. She stepped around her bike and used it as a barricade. “Leave me alone, please.”

The woman only pressed forward, the bike little protection as she shoved the recording device closer to Jewel’s lips.

“Tell us about the tattoo you did. Does Ramsey have a mega cock?”

The hell with polite, politically correct comments, she needed space.

“Get away.” Jewel released the bike in favor of scrambling back across the sidewalk. There were cars in the road and businesses open all around her, but no one seemed to notice she was being attacked. It was surreal and more than a little frightening. The camera was still flashing away, two of them circling her, caging her between them and the woman asking questions.

“Please…leave me alone…” Jewel said.

“You heard the lady.” A man slid up to her and pointed her toward an open coffeehouse door.

Jewel went for it, letting out a sigh of relief as she stepped into the warm air of the shop and heard her rescuer warning the camera crew that he’d call the cops if they didn’t clear out.

The shop smelled like rich, fresh coffee and scones. She drew in a deep breath and turned to watch the camera crew crawling back into their car and taking off. She was a hairbreadth away from panic, and gulped down a bunch of deep breaths as she tried to regain her composure.

“Coffee?” her rescuer asked kindly. “Looks like you could use a cup. Me too.”

The guy was middle-aged, with silver hair that had only hints of black left in it. When he smiled, there were wrinkles around his eyes, making him look like her grandfather. He took off his glasses and wiped the lenses with a napkin before putting them back on.

“Actually, I think I should be offering to buy you coffee,” Jewel said. “Thanks for the rescue.”

He extended a card. “Bryan Thompson.” He gestured toward the counter where a young woman was waiting to take their order. Jewel tried to pay, but Bryan had cash in hand, and the woman made change before Jewel finished protesting. Her hand was shaking anyway, so she stuffed it into her jacket pocket.

“Let’s have a seat. Your friends are back.” Bryan gestured toward a booth on the other side of the store, away from the window. Through the front of the store, Jewel gained a glimpse of the camera-wielding dude and his driver/reporter. They were eyeing the door of the coffee shop, but a pair of uniformed police officers stood on the sidewalk, sipping hot java as they talked.

Jewel slid into the booth. The espresso machine was going in the background, and a moment later, a woman delivered their coffees.

“Thank you, Ronda,” Bryan said.

“Thank you,” Jewel said before she took a sip from her coffee.

Bryan left his on the table. “I’m glad we could meet today, Ms. Ryan. My employer is interested in making you an offer for exclusive rights to your artwork.” He pushed something across the table to her. “A very lucrative offer.”

She’d been taking another sip from her cappuccino, and it went down the wrong tube. She ended up sputtering as she put the cup back on the table.

“What kind of setup is this?” Jewel demanded. Her cheeks turned red as she gestured with her thumb toward the two paparazzi on the street. “Did you arrange for them?”

He shook his head.

“Then how are you here?” she asked, feeling like the seat she was on had just turned to stone.

“I was waiting in the lobby of the Hyatt for you to come down.”

Her mouth went dry. It was a surreal moment that froze her brain, because things like being sought and stalked just didn’t happen to her.

Except that the camera dudes and the reporter were still eyeing her from outside the shop.

“When I noticed you leaving without an escort, I decided to follow. I hope you’ll consider it a good thing,” Bryan said smoothly. He took a moment to lift his coffee up and take a sip. At least it gave her time to grab her composure.

“Okay,” Jewel said. Her heart felt like it was going to burst through her breastbone. “Okay…”