The Girl of Sand & Fog (31 page)

Fuck, that’s it.

If Mom finds out, next stop divorce court.

It’s suddenly very hard to breathe.

I spring from the table and head for the door.

“Where are you going?” snaps Mrs. Barton. “Back
to the table for another half hour.”

Ignoring her, I continue into the hall only to be
stopped by Graham.

“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Where are you going?” he asks,
stepping in front of me so I can’t get to the elevators.

I stare up at him, frantic. “I just want to talk
to my dad, OK? Can you call him back? Please?”

“I can’t call him back and I can’t let you go,
Kaley. No one is to leave the room. Those are my instructions until tomorrow.”

Tomorrow, great.

Tomorrow, too late.

Tomorrow none of the good of the past three weeks
will matter.

If Alan hurts Mom, I’ll never forgive him.

*  *  *

I
lie on my bed, the hotel walls closing in around me. A handful of minutes and
it feels like eternity. I’m never going to survive a full night of this
torturous uncertainty. It’s like there is a heavy rock in my stomach, turning
over and over, and I can’t stop it.

I’m so tired of hurting. So tired of the guilt.
The collapse of my life is like a slow-moving film, frame and then pause, frame
and then pause, and with each change a new misery.

Bobby dumping me.

Being dragged away from Mom to here.

And now the terrible certainty that I’m the one—after
everything my parents have survived together—to end Chrissie and Alan after more
than twenty years.

I just want to feel young and laugh, and not hurt
and worry 24/7. Guilt is a terrible thing. The aftermath of hurting people you
love is inescapable.

For one night, I want out of this smothering
cage. I want to be eighteen and not give a shit about anything like the rest of
the kids my age. A normal girl. With a normal life. Just for a little while.

I grab my bag, sneak from my bedroom and into
Alan’s. I open the walk-in closet door and find the service exit against the
back wall just like in every hotel penthouse on this tour.

Now I know why the fucking door is there.

I carefully ease it open and peek into the
hallway. Nope, just as I thought, no one there. Alan’s gone, so security is not
here.

I jog down the hall and step into the emergency
exit stairwell, and after a dozen flights I cut through the lobby and out the
front door.

Free. For the first time in nearly a month.

I blend into the people on the sidewalk and start
hurrying down the street. I pass trendy restaurants and a few clubs, but then I
spot one without a rope line and duck in there.

No cover. Not exactly an upscale place, but it
will work and hopefully no one will think to look for me here
.

The room is dark and full of strobing light, and
I settle at the bar. When the bartender comes I order a bottle of tequila and a
glass. When a guy sidles up on the stool next to me, I offer him a drink.

I want to get drunk.

I want to laugh and dance and flirt.

I want not to remember.

I want for one night to be only eighteen.

CHAPTER 27

An
hour later, I’m full of tequila shots and whooping it up on the dance floor.
The vibration from the music and the alcohol pumping through my veins makes me
feel good for the first time since I left California. The small area beneath
the DJ is hot, crowded, the lights are flashing, and the guy I’m dancing with
definitely has moves. His body rubs against me and I melt into him.

His hands tighten on my waist, pulling my ass to
brush against his cock as we bob with the beat. He kisses my neck.

I tense.

Too familiar.

I pull away from him without missing a step.

I open my eyes.

Oh shit.

Graham Carson is standing on the edge of the
floor with his tree-trunk-sized arms crossed in front of his chest. How the
hell did he find me? Delta Force training, no doubt. He looks pissed.

I wait until the song finishes. I tell my partner
I have to go, and then cut through the people on the floor. I stop in front of
my bodyguard. It’s so obvious what Graham is with his iron body neatly encased
in all black. I can feel more than a few people staring at us.

I stare up at him. “Can’t you be cool for one
night and let me have fun?”

He doesn’t even look at me, just continues to
surveil the crowd. “Being cool is not part of my job, Kaley. Making sure
nothing happens to you, that’s my job.”

I roll my eyes. Yep, he’s angry.

“How did you know where I was?” I ask,
frustrated.

His eyes bore into me. “Bin Laden was hard to
find. You’re easy. Predictable. Nearest place you’re not allowed to be where
you can do something that you shouldn’t. This club is four blocks from the
hotel. I don’t take you for a long walk kind of girl. But you’re smart. You
skipped the car service and the taxis thinking that would slow me down on
finding you. No trail. Nice touch.”

I flush.

“I just want one evening without you guys making
me feel like a total freak show. One night alone. I’m only dancing. Can’t you
cut out and pretend you didn’t find me? I won’t tell anyone.”

His gaze shifts to me. “A girl like you shouldn’t
be hanging around in clubs filled with assholes like this. Boy, your instincts
suck. This is not a place for you to be, Kaley. No, I can’t pretend I didn’t
find you. Your dad would kick my ass if I left you here.”

My temper flares.

“Oh. A girl like me? What the fuck does that
mean?”

His expression changes. It smothers my anger.

“A beautiful, intelligent, talented girl with a
rich father and every opportunity in life. You shouldn’t be risking all that to
hang around with low-life players like these. They’ll only use you. Hurt you.
Take advantage of you. You deserve better. Don’t forget that.”

I take my lower lip between my teeth. That was
really sweet.

“Do you want to dance since you’re here? Or is
dancing not Delta Force sanctioned?”

“Not sanctioned,” he says.

I make a face.

That was a little funny.

He could have given me a laugh.

I try again. “Have one shot of tequila and I’ll
go willingly.”

He gives me a pained look. “The only thing we’re
doing is going back to the hotel.”

I exhale. I wish he’d just lighten up. We’re in
Australia. How dangerous can that be?

“Nope. Not leaving without having a shot with
you. Consider that an order, solider.”

Nothing.

And why is his gaze shifting around the room that
way?

“Hey, I just want to have fun for one night—”
Something crashes in the club. All around me voices grow louder and people
start running. I turn my head to find a glass shattered against the ground only
inches from my feet.

“No bitch walks away from me,” I hear shouted
from behind me.

I look over my shoulder.

Is that the guy I’ve been dancing with?

Oh fuck, is that a knife in his hand?

The way he is charging toward me fills me with
panic.

I fling myself into Graham’s chest, wrapping my
arms around him. I tense, waiting for my bodyguard to do something. Waiting.
Waiting. Why the fuck hasn’t he sprung into action. He just stands there.
Nothing. I hear loud voices. I turn my face. My hip-hop Casanova is five feet
away arguing with another girl.

I stare up at Graham.

He shakes his head at me. “Don’t ever do that
again.”

I blush. Crap. “Which part?”

“All of it,” he instructs harshly. “You don’t
cover me with your body. Not ever. You freeze if there’s trouble. I cover you
with me. You really need to move your hand. Your fingers are where my gun is.
Please, relax your arms and step back now.”

“Gun?”

He grins. “No gun. Not in Australia. I just
thought it would get you to move your fingers from my ass faster.”

I grimace and release my hold on him.

“We’re leaving. Now, Kaley.”

The way he says that leaves me no room to argue.
But in honesty I don’t want to stay any longer. The last few minutes have
pretty much a buzzkill.

Graham is right. Galling, but right. This is not
my type of scene. Most of the guys are definitely losers. I should never have
come here.

I let him guide me out of the club. The cool air
outside sends the alcohol rocketing through me. I’m suddenly feeling
off-balance. I must have drunk more than I realized. I’m buzzed. Nope, beyond
buzzed. I’m sloshed.

Graham’s hand closes around my arm and I’m shoved
into a black SUV, the door slams behind me then he climbs in up front beside
the driver.
He won’t even sit with me, and I hate riding alone in back.

Nice touch. Message received. You’re pissed off.
Fine.

It’s a short drive to the hotel. My door is
jerked wide and I climb from the backseat to join Graham on the curb. The lobby
is nearly empty when we enter. I’m escorted into an elevator and he uses his
card in the panel so he can select the penthouse floor. The ‘P’ lights up and
it flashes in my head. Why I broke the rules and cut out tonight. Why I don’t
want to return tonight to my dad’s suite.

The doors close and the elevator starts to move.
I push the hair from my face. I lean back against the wall. Graham looks
totally disgruntled.

I stare up at him. “I don’t want to go to my
room. Can we go hang around in your room for a while?”

His eyes flash. “No way. You are not going to my
room. I like my job. I need it.”

I push off the wall and step into him. “You also
like me,” I whisper. “Don’t take me back. Not yet.”

He eases away from me and shrugs. “Not doing it.
And of course, I like you. I wouldn’t risk taking a bullet for a client unless I
liked them.”

My brows hitch up. “Bullet, my ass. You probably
haven’t carried a gun since you became a bodyguard.”

The dimples appear in his cheeks.

My eyes widen. “Busted. Can’t we just have some
fun for once.”

“Kaley—”

“I want to go to your room. Spend the night
there.”

He shakes his head and doesn’t look directly at
me. Fuck, he’s a gorgeous guy. I sink my teeth into my lower lip, then wet it
with my tongue, and his breathing changes. A thrill pulses through me.

He’s saying
no
, but wants to say
yes
.

He needs a push. “If you want to keep your job,
taking me back to my dad’s suite drunk isn’t a good move. It’s better to let me
sleep it off somewhere.”

We stare at each other wordlessly. His jaw
flexes. His muscles tense, but his gaze doesn’t lower from mine and I’m not
sure what he’s debating: the point I just made or whether he wants to risk his
job and fuck me. Then I watch as he takes me in from head to toe, and then
stopping at my eyes again.

He leans around me, his arm brushing against me
as he hits a button for a different floor.

“Just for a little while,” he groans in warning.
“And only if you promise to drink some coffee to sober up a bit.”

I ease my body into him. “Anything you say.
Coffee. I’m up for anything.”

The doors open and he jerks back from me.

He motions me out of the elevator and into the
hallway. The floor is noisy and crowded. I recognize more than a few guys,
roadies and security, traveling on tour with us. I lean against the doorframe
as he slides his card into the lock.

He looks at me. “A few cups of coffee then I’m
taking you up to the penthouse. That’s all I’m up for tonight. Are we clear?”

Graham’s eyes are serious.

Probably worried about his job again.

“Roger that, solider,” I say in a silly way.

I step around him and into the room.

Graham switches on the lights and locks the door
behind him. I start wandering around the mini-suite. It’s nicer than I thought
it would be, considering he’s just a bodyguard. I look through an open doorway.
Separate bedroom. King-size bed. Nothing like the penthouse, but it’s nice.

I drop down to sit in front of a coffee table. I
hear water in the next room. Christ, he really is making me coffee.

“The security guys. Do you work for my dad all
the time or are you contractors?” I ask.

“Contractors.” He pokes his head out of what I
assume is some sort of small kitchenette. “Your dad hired me from
mercenaries’-world-dot-com.”

My body goes cold. The way everyone takes
drive-by pokes at me over Kaley’s-World.com is past old. Worse, it reminds me
why I’m trapped on tour with my dad, what I did to both my parents, why I lost
Bobby, and why I feel so miserable all the time.

I lift my brows and struggle for a neutral
response. “Very funny. Ha, ha. Did you think that up on your own or did one of
the PR assistants write it up so you’d have that one handy to use tonight?”

His smile fades.

His gaze softens.

“I didn’t mean anything by it, Kaley. I just
wanted to make you laugh.”

I stare down at my fingers. “Well, it didn’t
work.”

“I’m sorry. How do you want your coffee?”

“Just black.

He disappears from view.

Graham comes back into the sitting room and sets
two mugs of coffee on the table.

I close my hands around mine. The warmth burns.
It feels good. I can almost not feel the tears threatening in my throat.

“So why are you a mercenary for hire? Being a
bodyguard must be a little dull after Delta Force,”
I tease
and earn for the effort the dimples back in his cheeks.

He laughs. “Dull? Hardly. You are anything but
dull, Kaley.”

My stomach flutters.

“Then why don’t you want me here with you?” I
whisper. “Why don’t you ever make a move on me? I can tell you like me, but you
don’t do it.”

Oh crap.

I didn’t intend to ask that.

Graham studies me for a moment and then climbs
from the chair. He settles on the ground near me, his posture open, accessible
and relaxed, but his body a neutral distance away from me.

“Because I’m not the right kind of guy for you,
Kaley. I know it. But more importantly, you know it.”

My cheeks burn.

I brush at my face.

Damn.

Tears.

I feel an arm slip around my shoulders. My body
is eased into his. His lips are in my hair. “It’s going to be all right, Kaley.
What happened tonight to get you upset enough to take off?”

I peek up at him.

I sniff.

The words gather in my head.

No, don’t say them.

I sink into his chest, sniffling more. The words
start fighting their way out. “My dad hates me and he should. I’ve destroyed my
mom’s happiness. I’ve ruined their marriage. My dad’s out fucking Jen tonight.
My mom won’t forgive that when she finds out and my family is a mess and it’s
all my fault. And I’m surrounded by people all day every day and I have never
felt lonelier in my life. I don’t even have anything to go home to when I’m
finally free of this tour. My boyfriend dumped me…”

He tightens his hold on me. His hand moves on my
back in comforting strokes.

“Shush, Kaley. Your dad doesn’t hate you. That’s
the first thing you’ve gotten wrong. Also, he’s not with Jen tonight. So you
can forget that worry. I can’t tell you where he is, but he’s definitely not
doing anything you should blame yourself for. Your family is here and together.
That’s more than most families are. If you don’t want to be lonely, stop
walling everyone out and try letting people in. As for your boyfriend, crap, I
don’t have anything to say about that. He’s an idiot if he dumped you—”