Sweet Possession (14 page)
Authors: Maya Banks
The command snapped her gaze to him.
“This is why I’m so pissed that you took off without me,” he said, a distinct edge to his voice. “Now will you take this seriously?”
She frowned, upset and shaken by the threat but just as upset over his assumption that she didn’t take this very seriously.
But she was too tired to defend herself. Too tired to argue with his ironclad opinion of her. It wasn’t as if she’d change it.
She nodded wearily, too tired to say the words. There was no way she’d keep the bitterness out of her voice anyway. It was better to just shut up and take the path of least resistance. For once.
“It’s been a long day. It’ll be another long day tomorrow. You should get some sleep,” he said. “I need to check with the hotel to see if we can get a trace.”
As if that was going to happen. Still, she wouldn’t mind getting comfortable and laying her head on her pillow. Without a word, she got up, rummaged around in a still-packed suitcase until she found a pair of cotton pajamas and then headed for the bathroom.
Her pajamas were her comfort item. Much like a security blanket or a special stuffed animal. They were old and probably had holes, but they were soft and comfortable and they made her feel safe.
Connor would probably laugh, and she’d be lucky if he didn’t sneak photos to send to the tabloids. What a blow to her image if she were photographed in pajamas with faded smiley faces on them.
When she came out of the bathroom, she blinked in surprise to see Connor shirtless on one side of the bed. He wore a pair of sweat pants—thank goodness—because she couldn’t handle seeing him in nothing but his underwear, although it did bring up the tantalizing question of whether he wore briefs or boxers.
Or . . . boxer briefs. She’d bet money he was a boxer brief kind of guy. Or maybe she just really liked the image of him in tight cotton, butt-molding briefs that hugged those muscular upper legs.
Mmmmm.
Okay, she had to stop because this was just ridiculous.
She trudged to her side of the bed, pleased to see that he’d already erected a barrier between them using cushions from the sofa. She wouldn’t have to forfeit any of her pillows to the cause.
He watched her as she pulled back the covers. She could feel his gaze resting on her, but she refused to look up. She crawled onto the mattress and turned her back to him as she pulled the comforter up over her shoulders.
There was a pregnant silence and then, “Good night, Lyric,” he murmured. She heard the click of the lamp and the room was plunged into darkness. Only a thin beam of light from the street squeezed through a tiny gap in the room darkening curtains.
Her heart thumped in her throat and she lay there so wound up and tense that her muscles ached. She hated this. Hated that being so close to Connor—in the same bed—made her so nervous she wanted to puke.
She forced her breathing to even out because even she could hear it stuttering past her lips. She gripped the covers protectively around her and huddled there, staring at the opposite wall.
She was never going to sleep.
“Connor?”
There was a brief pause. “Yeah?”
She gripped the covers a little tighter until her fingers went numb. “Why do you hate me so much?”
There was an uncomfortable pause. Then she felt him turn toward her on his side. She lay still, her fingers wrapped tightly around the sheet she held to her chin.
“I don’t hate you, Lyric.”
“You decided before you ever met me that you despised me. Nothing I do or say is going to change that.”
He sighed. “You didn’t exactly help your case when we met.”
“You looked at me like I was scum. No one is going to react well to that kind of judgment.”
“I don’t hate you,” he said again.
“You don’t like me either,” she said softly.
“I was a jerk tonight. I’ll be honest. I didn’t want this job. And you’re right. I had my mind made up about you before we ever met. That wasn’t . . . fair.”
“You’re wrong, you know.”
“About what?”
“I do take this seriously.”
Connor shifted again, and the next thing she knew, light flooded the room as he switched the lamp back on. She glanced over her shoulder to see him sit up in bed.
“Turn over so we can talk,” he said quietly.
She rolled and clutched one of the cushions between them to her chest.
“You need to consider the possibility that someone close to you is involved in this.”
She frowned. “But no one knows I’m here. I gave my band and my crew two weeks off. I was careful, Connor. I know you don’t think I was.”
“What about Paul? And your two . . . bodyguards?”
At least he hadn’t called them her fuck-buddies again. She sighed. Her head hurt. She wasn’t sure she’d ever gotten rid of the headache she’d had earlier.
“Lyric?”
“I think Paul knew too,” she said wearily. “And Trent and R.J. too. Don’t say it. I already feel like an idiot. But no one else knows. Or rather I didn’t tell anyone.”
“And you think the cops you introduced yourself to will keep your cover?”
She flushed and hugged the pillow a little tighter. “I was angry. You humiliated me.”
“Do you always react so outrageously when someone pisses you off?”
“Do you always allow people to get under your skin so badly?”
“Touché. So we’ve both reacted badly. I’m more at fault than you. This is a job. I’m supposed to be a professional. No matter how much you irritate me, it’s my job to keep cool and protect you.”
She glanced up, watching the soft glow of the lamp slide over his muscled shoulders. He had a great chest. He was a tall man. Lean but tightly muscled. Not in a bulging Neanderthal way, nor did he look like he worked out a bazillion times a week. But his body was tight and there wasn’t a spare ounce of flesh anywhere on his waist.
He had a great jaw. Firm and determined. Already he had a shadow of a beard that only made him look sexy in a scruffy, totally male way. He wasn’t pretty and polished.
He had a quiet arrogance that suggested he was comfortable in his skin and didn’t much give a damn what others thought. He wasn’t impressed by celebrity. He thought she was a spoiled jerk. He was right, but it still bothered her.
“Do I irritate you that much?”
He cracked a grin and glanced over at her. “Yeah. You do.”
The acknowledgment was more of a dry laugh at himself and the smile took the sting out of his words.
“We’re going to work this out,” he said. “Tomorrow I’m meeting with the firm your label hired. You’ll be surrounded by security at all times and I’m going to stick to you like glue for the next two weeks. If someone wants you, they’ll have to go through me.”
She took great comfort from the vow. It didn’t come across as a boast. There was complete and utter confidence in his voice, and his eyes sparked with determination.
She bit her lips and met his gaze again. “I know I’m not . . . easy.”
“No, you’re definitely not easy,” he said in a lazy voice. “But I can handle difficult.”
He reached over to touch her hair. It was a simple brush. He didn’t even make contact with her skin, but an electric sensation snaked all the way through her body.
“You should get some rest,” he said. “You’re exhausted and you’ve had a headache all day.”
She grimaced. “I won’t sleep.”
One of his eyebrows went up in question. “Why not?”
She looked away and clutched the covers to her chin again.
“Lyric?”
His voice gentled and there was a soothing lilt to the way he said her name.
“You make me nervous. It’s not just you,” she rushed to say. “It could be anyone. I don’t like having someone so . . . close.”
When she peeked up to gauge his reaction, his brow was furrowed. “It’s my understanding you always have people around you. That you’re never alone. I’d think if that was the case, you’d be glad to have me here with you so you aren’t alone.”
“I don’t like being alone,” she admitted.
“You’re making no sense.”
She sighed and turned onto her back to stare at the ceiling. “If I have a choice between alone and being alone with one other person, I choose alone, no matter how uncomfortable it makes me.”
She could feel his stare burning over her skin, like he was trying to peel back the layers even further and see her darkest secrets.
To her surprise he sat up and threw his legs over the edge of the bed. She watched from the corner of her eye as he reached for the hotel directory on the nightstand.
He rotated back around and began flipping through the pages. “Well, if we’re going to be up all night, I’m going to order room service. I’m starving.”
She wrinkled her nose. “But you ate a huge supper. I mean, it looked like it was the entire cow. Or pig. Whatever we ate.”
“I’m a growing boy. Need food.”
“You’re really going to stay up just because I can’t sleep?”
He glanced over at her. “Yeah, sure.” He held up the menu. “You want something?”
She slowly sat up and arranged one of the cushions behind her so she was propped against the headboard. Then she smiled. “Yeah. I could eat.”
CHAPTER 12
“
H
ey,” Connor said softly.
H
ey,” Connor said softly.
His voice was a tickle in her ear and she scrunched up her nose in her sleep and batted at the offending sensation.
A husky chuckle blew a strand of her hair over her cheek.
“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. We have things to do today and Damon Roche is sending a driver to collect you in an hour. I thought you’d want to take a shower and put on something killer before he arrives.”
She cracked one eye open and stared at Connor’s face just inches from her own. For a moment she was confused and then realization pushed aside the veil of sleep.
“I slept,” she said in wonder.
Connor nodded. “Yeah, you did. You crashed around five.”
“What time is it now?”
“Eight. I would have let you sleep longer, but I’ve got to get your security squared away today and then we have to move you.”
“Okay.”
He eased back and she struggled to push herself up, her brain clouded and fuzzy. She blinked to try to clear the cobwebs and for a moment she simply stared around the room, amazed that she’d fallen asleep with him next to her in bed.
Maybe her exhaustion had finally caught up to her and she’d simply passed out. Even more surprising was the fact that she really wanted to lie back down and sleep for several more hours.
She should be jumping at the opportunity to surround herself with people for the day. Being on her own and with Connor had been a strain, and she was starting to show signs of cracking.
She rubbed at her face and then glanced over at Connor, who was sitting at the end of the bed watching her. “Are you done in the bathroom?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I’ve already showered. It’s all yours.”
“Good. I’ll need a bit to get ready.”
She threw the covers aside and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Damn, but she was tired. As she trudged toward the bathroom, Connor said, “You want breakfast? I was going to order room service. I’d rather you not go down and eat. More chance of you being recognized.”
She covered a yawn and nodded. “Yeah. Sounds good.”
“Eggs? Bacon? Pancakes? What’s your poison?”
“Yes, yes and yes.”
He laughed. “Okay, I’ll order everything they have. It’ll look like a buffet because I’m starved.”
She shook her head in amazement. “You put away a lot of food just a few hours ago. How can you possibly be starving again?”
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