The Masters of Falcon's Fantasies [BDSM Menage Fantasies 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (21 page)

She just laughed and said, “I’d better go pack.” But her fingers trailed down his arm as she turned toward the porch.

He and Allie exchanged a look as they followed the rest back into the house. “Are you sure about this?” Allie asked softly, pausing outside the door which closed behind Karl.

He shrugged again. “Why not? It should be okay, and I don’t have anything else going on.”

She twisted the dish
towel she still held in her hands. “You were going to leave today, weren’t you?”

“Yes. But it can wait.”

They looked out over the vista at the setting sun. It was turning the sky and the ocean into a beautiful pink
-
and
-
purple mosaic, reminding Decker suddenly of how much Sharon loved the ocean and sunsets in particular. He sighed.

“Are you running away to keep from getting involved?”

He desperately wanted to turn away from the view and the memories it was bringing up. But he also didn’t want to meet Allie’s gaze, especially when she wanted to talk about his feelings for Daphne. He stared stubbornly to the west, willing her to stop asking questions and go back to whatever peculiar thing she was planning for dinner.

She was silent, probably giving him time to gather his thoughts. Decker knew what his thoughts were. He just didn’t particularly want to share them. It was confusing, and he had the feeling that things were coming up around Sharon’s death that he hadn’t dealt with yet. How could he enter a new relationship, especially with someone as high
maintenance as Daphne obviously would be, when he still had issues to work through? Maybe if he just turned on his Dom personality, he could intimidate her.

“I don’t know,” he finally said when it became apparent that Allie wasn’t going to leave without an answer. “I don’t see how it could work with her—them.”

“Well, that’s your decision. But remember there are no coincidences in life. Everything happens for a reason,” Allie said. He didn’t realize she had left until the screen door shut behind her.

It really couldn’t work. Daphne was beautiful and fun and sexy as hell, but it just wouldn’t work. They were too different
,
and he wasn’t ready.

So why did he have this uncontrollable need to take her to LA?

The television station was a whirlwind of activity at six. Finn, Decker
,
and Daphne arrived and were shown into a small room, where people came and went periodically, bringing them coffee, verifying facts and data, and finally fixing Daphne’s makeup and telling her to be ready to go on in ten minutes. Decker watched her calmly chatting and lightly flirting with the station employees. She looked ravishing, in a black leather vest over a lace top with shoulder cut-outs, a black bra, tight leather pants
,
and high-heeled boots. She was a true performer, he thought. Easy with everyone, confident, comfortable in her own skin. At least she certainly gave that impression. Finn, on the other hand, looked like he was at his first job interview.

“Okay, Daph, let’s go over the things you want to talk about,” Finn said, nervously clutching his stack of papers.

Daphne laughed and took his face in her hands for a kiss. “I don’t think I’m going to get much say in what we talk about. But I’ll try, I promise. There’s the new CD, the music video, the tour we’re planning for next year—”

“Knock on wood,” Finn put in, looking around for an appropriate surface to act out his words.

Daphne smiled and reached over to tap on his head. “Okay. There. Now please calm down so you don’t have a stroke
,
and let’s go get this done.” She smiled at Decker. “He’s so cute when he’s nervous.”

They got up and went out into the hallway, where a waiting assistant led them to the interview room. Daphne shook hands with the reporter, Ken Standish, who then turned to Decker, hand outstretched.

“You’re Daphne’s manager, is that correct?”

“Actually, no.” Decker nodded at Finn, who was fussing over Daphne’s outfit, straightening the vest and lace sleeves. “He is.”

“Ah. Of course.” The reporter waited until Finn was done with his last-minute instructions then stuck out his hand and introduced himself again. “Would you like to be included in the interview as well?”

“Me?” Finn stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights of a semi as they shook hands. “I don’t—”

“That would be wonderful!” Daphne cut in, taking Finn’s other arm. “You can keep me from saying something stupid—won’t you, Sir?”

Finn turned his head to her, and gradually his shoulders and chest lifted. “Of course,” he said, seeming to recall his role. “That would be great.”

More makeup people came then and prepared Finn
.
He, Daphne, and Ken
took places in what Decker considered “talk-show chairs” to wait for their cue. Daphne’s eyes were closed while they waited, and Decker suspected she was going through a private ritual to access her public persona. Nobody could be that intensely alive all day long. He watched in fascination as her face went from calm sleepiness to sensational rock star.

When Ken leaned over to ask anxiously, “Is she okay?” Daphne’s eyes flew open
,
and she gave him a dazzling smile, straightening her spine and shaking her hair back. Her personality seemed to expand until it filled the entire room, making even the generic plastic furniture appear exotic and exciting.

Ken blinked a bit then turned to the camera as the beginning of the interview was announced.

“Good morning,” he said with a practiced cheerfulness. His own professional personality switched on, but was completely overpowered by the celebrity sitting across the little coffee table from him. Finn, in the middle, looked from one to the other, apparently overwhelmed by the collision of charisma that was going on around him. As he talked, Ken seemed to become aware that he was no longer the brightest light in the room.

“Today we have Daphne Monroe
from the band Dark Epiphany
in the studio with us, along with her manager, Finn Scott.” Ken’s eyes flickered for a half
second to the teleprompter. Then he turned to Daphne with a steely friendliness. “Welcome, Daphne. How are you today?”

“I’m totally fantastic, Ken.” Daphne smiled in a way that seemed to include Ken, the camera crew, the audience, and anybody else in a ten-mile radius. “How are you doing?”

“I’m just fine, thanks.” Ken’s chuckle suggested that he was humoring a small but amusing child. “Thanks for being here today. I understand you have some new projects going on. When are we going to see the results? Weren’t you expecting to release your new CD before now?”

Decker thought that Ken’s voice was taking on a distinctly confrontational tone. He felt his hands ball up into fists
,
and he forced himself to relax. It was probably his imagination.

Daphne gave a light laugh. “You know how these things go. We wanted to make sure it was absolutely perfect.”

“So you’re working hard?”

“Oh, yes.” Daphne reached over and squeezed Finn’s knee. “My manager here is a real slave driver.”

Finn sat forward. “There are a couple new songs that we want to make sure get included. Genius just can’t be rushed sometimes.” His smile looked a little forced to Decker.

“No doubt,” Ken said. His lips turned upward, but it wasn’t exactly a smile. “I understand you’re staying at a small guesthouse in Grandpointe. Can you tell us how you’re finding the area?”

Daphne leaned forward, her expression suggesting she couldn’t imagine a more exciting place on the planet than the sleepy little town. “It’s wonderful. We’re at Clifftop Fantasies. It’s the nicest place I think I’ve ever stayed. There’s so much to do in the area! I just love it there.”

“Certainly not as exciting as being in Los Angeles or, say, Sacramento,” Ken suggested. “I understand you kind of make your own excitement wherever you go.”

Daphne blinked at him, but her smile didn’t falter. She let out another musical laugh. “I like to have fun. And I’ve met lots of really friendly people.”

Ken turned to Finn. “Is it fair to say you’re in charge of keeping Miss Monroe’s more exuberant tendencies in check?”

Finn seemed to be taking stock of the reporter before he answered. “Daphne is a high-spirited girl. It gives her music and dancing a quality that has to be seen to be believed. In fact, next year we’re working on a tour—”

“That’s great,” Ken cut in. “So you got her out of the city to keep her away from other elements—”

“We’re working there,” Finn firmly interrupted in his turn, “because it’s a great location,
has
hospitable hosts, and allows us to focus on the projects we’ve got going. The music video we’re working on should be completed in the next week
,
and it’s fantastic. Daphne is writing one more song—”

“Mm-hmm. It’s very convenient to Sacramento, isn’t it, Miss Monroe?”

Daphne’s expression froze, but she cocked her head as if he’d said something half-witted and she was debating how to be tactful in answering.

“I love being near the ocean,” she said. “I get my best ideas when I can smell the salt air and stare out over the endless expanse of water. It’s inspirational. I really envy people who grew up in that kind of environment.”

Ken’s smile took on a harder edge. “But isn’t it true that you’ve been taking lots of trips to the capital?”

Daphne frowned. Decker felt his body stiffen, like an animal that has scented danger. Something odd was going on here. He wasn’t sure what the reporter was up to, but his instincts told him he needed to be alert. He watched the two, Daphne and Ken, staring at each other while Finn’s face went through a series of expressions, ending up in anger. He controlled himself, though, and cut into the conversation with a professional laugh.

“Of course we’ve had to take some side trips to take care of business matters. But work on the new CD is really coming along well. The video—”

“Side trips
,
such as to a local sex club?”

Finn stared at him. “A sex club?”

“And to visit Senator McFarland in Sacramento?”

Daphne’s face was red, but she forced herself to laugh. “I’ve met Senator McFarland, yes,” she said. “But—”

“And isn’t it true that you’re the cause of the Senator’s divorce?”

“Divorce?” Her voice little more than a whisper. Ken sat, letting his statement sink in, leering triumphantly at her.

Finn came to life. “That’s ridiculous. The Senator is a fan, I believe, and has attended some of the same events as Daphne. But to suggest that anything else is going on—”

“Oh, I’m not the one suggesting it.” Ken took a paper from the small stack he’d brought in with him. “Mrs. McFarland issued a statement yesterday morning that they are getting divorced due to his affair with Miss Monroe. Do you have a comment on that?”

Finn suddenly stood, almost knocking over the small table in front of them, and pulled Ken to his feet. “That’s enough, you hyena. This interview is over. Now, if you don’t want—”

Decker was behind him by then, ready to grab Finn’s arm if it started swinging. Several people in the background were yelling and Ken was scrambling out of punching range. Daphne was standing still, her face completely drained of color, like a wax statue of herself. Decker looked back and forth between the two, debating if it was more urgent to keep Finn from pursuing and attacking the reporter or to make sure Daphne wasn’t going to faint.

But she was tougher than that. She clenched her fists and strode over to the door that Ken was just about to escape from. She grabbed the lapels of his jacket and thrust her face to within an inch of his. “If you
ever
—” she began.

Ken stammered and stumbled backward. Decker was next to her in a half second, his arms around her. Daphne stopped, releasing her grip on Ken and became very still.

Finn took his place on her other side, looking more warlike than Decker had ever seen him. They both put a hand on Daphne’s back, supporting but ready to stop her if she pursued the reporter. Ken got through the door as quickly as he could, saying in an odd, squeaky voice, “Stop! I’ll have you arrested!”

Finn took a menacing step forward, shouting, “Bring it on, you pussy!”

Decker knew that none of the three of them would hesitate to attack the reporter, given the opportunity. But, as much as his protective instincts were engaged, he knew it wouldn’t achieve anything useful, other than getting one or all of them thrown in jail. He had to wonder as he glanced at Daphne’s white face how much of the accusation was true. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have a reputation for wildness and promiscuity.

* * * *

Allie went running to the front door when she heard Decker’s car pull in. They had stopped halfway down the driveway, and Decker was getting out of the driver’s side, yelling at someone in the bushes beyond. Damn paparazzi again, Allie thought with a sigh. Probably the same one. He seemed to be obsessed with Daphne. Decker got back in and drove the rest of the way. The small group got out of the car and walked toward the house as if they’d just survived a battle. Daphne’s face was white and drawn, and she looked much older than Allie had ever seen her look before.