Sweet Possession s-5 Page 4

  “Please have a seat,” Faith said. “Can I get you some coffee?”

  Lyric shook her head but managed a smile since Faith was being so . . . nice.

  “Lyric, glad you made it,” Phillip said as he stood.

  There was surprise in his voice. He’d expected her to be late. A quick glance at Connor told her nothing about what he thought or didn’t think. She wasn’t going to admit that she was disappointed. She’d wanted a reaction of some type. Even if it wasn’t a good one. This seeming indifference he showed toward her irritated her.

  The older man who’d been sitting next to Phillip also stood, and he made his way to where Lyric stood.

  “I’m Pop Malone, Connor’s father,” he said. “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Jones.”

  “It’s nice to meet you too, Mr. Malone,” she said smoothly as she extended her hand.

  “I want you to meet the rest of my staff,” Pop said as he turned in the direction of the seated men. “You’ve already met my daughter, Faith. That’s her husband, Gray Montgomery. Next to him is Nathan Tucker and sitting by Connor is Micah Hudson.”

  “Are they going to be my security team?” she asked sweetly.

  “Their women would chew you up and spit you out,” Connor said dryly as he stood.

  She raised an eyebrow. “Then why are they all here?”

  “To see me suffer.”

  Color rose in her cheeks. She couldn’t think of a single comeback for that one. She was used to being a veritable circus act. It shouldn’t surprise her that Connor’s coworkers had come to see the train wreck.

  She took a seat at the very end of the table so she’d be as far from the others as possible. To her surprise, Connor moved to the chair next to her.

  He was way too close and she fidgeted nervously in her seat. He glanced her way once and lifted a brow. Damn, but the man was sexy in a disdainful, you-annoy-me kind of way. She had to be a masochist. It was the only explanation for her bizarre attraction to him. Rejection wasn’t her thing. Neither was hooking up with someone who looked at her like he would dirt on his shoe.

  But the truth was, she’d thought a lot about that kiss. It had kept her up the previous night—that and the fact that she was alone, and she hated being alone.

  There was some serious chemistry between her and Connor

  Malone, and it was a pity, because they could barely stand the sight of each other. He was probably the only man on earth who’d turn her down flat anyway.

  “Would you care to offer your opinion, Ms. Jones?” Connor asked dryly.

  She blinked and realized that the entire table was looking at her, obviously waiting for her response. She faked a yawn, adopted a bored look and studied her nails.

  “Sorry, I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  Connor’s eyes narrowed and she gazed at him with wide eyes, a look she knew to be successful on most men. But then, Connor wasn’t most men. He didn’t look impressed even if the other men at the table looked a little gobsmacked.

  “If you’re through wasting our time,” Connor began.

  “I’m paying for your time, so it’s mine to do with what I want,” she drawled.

  Connor stood and looked down the table at the others. “Would you all excuse us? I believe Ms. Jones and I have things we need to discuss. Privately.”

  “The hell—”

  The look he gave her stopped the protest before it could be fully launched. For the first time, she felt herself backing down. The man made her nervous, and that pissed her off. Didn’t just piss her off. It made her furious.

  When everyone had left, Connor turned and planted his palms on the table in front of her. “Let me get something straight. You didn’t hire me. You can’t fire me. You have nothing I want or need. I don’t give a shit if you like me. I don’t particularly like you. It’s my job to keep you safe, and I’m going to do just that. Which means you’re going to listen to everything I tell you.”

  How utterly ridiculous that she flinched when he’d baldly said he didn’t like her. Like that should come as a surprise? Nobody liked her. People tolerated her. They used her. But they didn’t like her. Why should Connor Malone be any different? Why did she want him to be?

  “What your idiot of a record label executive hasn’t told you is that they’ve been monitoring threats over your last five shows. Some asshole is leaving you notes in places he shouldn’t have access to.”

  Lyric curled her fingers into fists and stared up at Connor. “What are you talking about?”

  “Just what I said. They’ve found notes on your bus, in your dressing room, on your guitar case. Whoever’s doing it is getting way too close to you.”

  She forced her hands to relax and then wiped her palms down the soft suede of her skirt. “Why didn’t they tell me?”

  “They didn’t trust you not to do something stupid.”

  She blew out her breath in frustration. “Nice.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Do they have reason to believe any other way?”

  “Whether or not they thought they knew how I’d react, I had a right to know.”

  Connor nodded. “On that point we agree, which is why I’m telling you now. Maybe now you’ll see that this isn’t some fucking game. This is your life, and it’s my job to make sure you stay alive. Now, are you going to help me or are you going to do everything you can to make my job harder?”

  Slowly she shook her head.

  “Which is it?”

  “I’ll . . .” She swallowed and then turned her gaze up to meet his once more. “I’ll cooperate. I’ll try.”

  He folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the edge of the table. “You’ll do more than try.”

  She held her hands up in surrender. “Whatever. You’re the boss.”

  He smiled and it made him look so arrogant she was tempted to haul him down and kiss him senseless again.

  “Glad you recognize that fact. We’ll get along just fine as long as you remember that little tidbit.”

  Slowly she got to her feet. “Are we finished now?”

  He nodded.

  She reached into her bag for her keys and walked toward the door, unsure of what the hell had just happened. She was a little shell-shocked and off balance. She needed a little time to process the storm that was Connor Malone.

  Connor fell into step behind her but she paid him little attention. She walked into the reception area where the others were all standing around talking. She didn’t miss the way conversation stopped or the way they all stared at her as she went by.

  “Bye, Ms. Jones. It was nice meeting you,” Faith called.

  Lyric looked up and smiled, because really, not smiling at the really nice blond woman was like kicking a puppy. You just didn’t do it. And the truth was, there was something about Faith that just made a person a little warm on the inside.

  Clearly Lyric needed a drink to get over that little burst of poetry. She could get drunk and write a song about sunshine and dedicate it to Faith.

  She bit her lip to call back the laughter and offered a wave to everyone as she left the building.

  Ah, freedom. Not that she liked being alone, but somehow, right now it was preferable to being cooped up in a room full of people who made her feel vastly inferior. She was the famous superstar, and yet a group of good ole boys and Miss Sunshine made her feel not good enough.

  It wasn’t until she reached her car that she realized Connor had followed her out. She frowned as she unlocked her doors. He was taking his job a little too seriously for her liking.

  Determined to ignore him, she slid into the driver’s seat just as he opened the passenger door and got in beside her.

  She paused after she put the key in the ignition and looked questioningly at him. “What are you doing?”

  He looked at her like she was a moron for asking the obvious. “I believe we’ve been over this. You’re in danger. I’ve been hired to keep you safe. Therefore, for the next two weeks, where you go, I go.”

  Her mouth gaped open. “Are you serious?”

  He gazed coolly at her. “Does it look like I’m joking?”

  “But I’m just going back to my hotel.”

  “Hope you have a double, because I’m not sleeping on the floor.”

  CHAPTER 5

  L yric flexed her hands as she navigated the busy streets back to her downtown hotel. Connor rode in silence next to her, his gaze fixed out of his window as if he found her company tedious.

  She frowned. She did not want him in her hotel room. He wouldn’t fit! He was too big. Too overbearing. Maybe she could inquire about an adjoining room and he’d be satisfied with having access. Then if she forgot and locked the door, she could say oops and he wouldn’t be invading her space.

  She hadn’t reserved a suite. Too much empty space with no people to fill it up and make her feel less lonely and . . . panicked. She’d taken a ridiculously small room and then filled it with all the stuff she’d brought with her because it had made her feel like she wasn’t alone.

  No way she wanted Connor Malone intruding. The mere idea had her breaking out in a cold sweat. She embraced a crowd. But being one-on-one? Especially with someone like Connor?

  God.

  She drove up to the front entrance and the valet opened her door for her. She dropped the keys into his hand and strode around to the revolving doors that led into the lobby.

  Connor was waiting and walked in practically attached to her hip. The man was tall and muscled and he took over her space to the point that with every inhale, his scent was permanently imprinted on her.

  He frowned when she resisted him herding her to the elevator and headed to the front desk instead.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Seeing if they have another room for you,” Lyric muttered. She put on her widest smile when the desk clerk asked if her if he could help.

  Connor put his hand over hers and squeezed. A warning. “There’ll be no separate room.”

  The clerk raised his eyebrows and glanced between Connor and Lyric with undisguised interest.

  Lyric tried to wrest her hand from his grip but he tightened his fingers over hers.

  “There isn’t room for you,” she hissed. “Not even on the floor! I have a single. It’s barely a shoe box.”

  “Since you’re only spending tonight here, we can deal.”

  “But my reservations are for two weeks!”

  Connor turned to the clerk and smiled. “She’s had a change in itinerary. We’ll be checking out in the morning.”

  Before she could utter another word, Connor took her elbow and propelled her toward the elevator. She had to hoof it to keep up with his pace, and the heels she wore weren’t conducive to a footrace. It was hard to look sexy and elegant when she was worried about tripping over her own feet.

  “Damn it, Malone,” she huffed when the elevator doors closed. “I don’t care what you were hired to do. You aren’t staying in my room.”

  “The name is Connor. Use it. And get over it. We’re going to be up close and personal for the next two weeks. My advice is to quit bitching and resign yourself to the inevitable.”

  She closed her eyes and bumped her head against the back of the elevator. She knew she sounded petulant and unreasonable, but the idea of him being in her personal space was seriously freaking her out.

  Her breath huffed out in jerky little spurts until her vision blurred and she grew light-headed. She was dimly aware of Connor’s frown and a muttered curse, but then, that shouldn’t surprise her. It seemed it was all he did around her.

  The elevator doors opened but that didn’t relieve the tightness in her chest. She stood helpless against the wall, unable to make her legs cooperate.

  Black spots danced in front of her eyes and the world seemed to get smaller and dimmer with each passing second.

  Connor yanked her from the elevator and she found herself plopped onto one of the leather couches in the small sitting area on her floor.

  “Breathe, Lyric. Look at me.”

  When she didn’t immediately do as he’d demanded, he coaxed her chin upward with gentle fingers. “Look at me,” he said again. “That’s it. Focus. Now breathe with me. Just like this.”

  She watched as he inhaled deeply and then exhaled in one smooth motion.

  “Think about what you’re doing. Watch me. Do what I do. I won’t let anything hurt you. You can trust me.”

  If she could manage the breath, she’d laugh. Trust him? He had no idea what he was asking. Trust was as foreign to her as the things most people took for granted. Love. Friendship. Companionship.

  His fingers stroked soothingly over her cheek and it was all she could do not to lean into his touch and rub like a cat. It shocked her how good it felt to be comforted, to be touched by someone who didn’t want something from her she wasn’t willing to give.

  She sighed and closed her eyes as some of the awful pressure in her chest eased. She could literally feel her lungs open up and shudder with relief as fresh air rushed in.

  Her hands shook and her knees were so wobbly she’d never make it down the hall to her room. How humiliating to fall apart all because she was faced with the prospect of sharing her space with Connor Malone. Wouldn’t the tabloids have a field day with this? Superstar suffers panic attack and passes out in hotel elevator.

  “Where’s your room key?” Connor asked quietly.

  Her fingers trembled so much she nearly dumped her clutch on her feet.

  He took the purse, and, after a moment of digging, he flashed the room card. He handed her back the bag. “We need to get you to your room. Can you make it if I help you?”

  She nodded, furious with herself for allowing this to happen. Embarrassed. Gutted for making such an idiot of herself.

  Gritting her teeth, she clutched at his arm as she rose from the couch.

  “What room number?”

  “All the way to the end,” she whispered. “Last one on the left.”

  “Okay, take it nice and slow. Hold on to my arm and don’t get in a hurry.”

  With each step, she regained more of her strength and some of the panic abated. By the time they reached her room, her knees had stopped shaking. Connor slid the card into the slot and opened her door. A rush of cool air blasted her in the face and gave her a much-needed shock.

  “Christ, it’s like a meat locker in here,” Connor said as he ushered her inside.

  “I like sleeping in the cold,” she mumbled. “With the covers up to my ears.”

  Connor sat her on the edge of the bed. “Do you have anything to drink in here?”

  “There’s water in the fridge.”

  “You need something a little stronger than water.”

  “I don’t drink,” she said defensively. “No matter what you might read about me.”

  “I wasn’t suggesting alcohol,” he said dryly. “If anyone will be drinking, it’ll be me. I was thinking more along the lines of something with caffeine in it for you.”

  “Caffeine makes me jittery and I don’t sleep well.”

  He went over to the fridge and returned with a bottle of cold water. He opened it and shoved it toward her. “Drink.”

  She sipped at the refreshing liquid and took in several steadying breaths. “I’m fine now. Really. I’m sorry. I feel like an idiot for losing it like that.”

  He sat beside her on the bed and was silent for a long moment. He seemed to be studying her—or the issue—she wasn’t sure which. The idea of him analyzing her made her twitch. Enough shrinks had done that to last her a lifetime.

  “Why did you lose it, Lyric?”

  She frowned. She hadn’t expected him to be so . . . blunt. Most people danced around her. The few times she’d ever had a panic attack in front of someone else, they’d pretended it didn’t happen, and she was more than happy to do the same.

  He cocked his head sideways, and she could feel his gaze boring into her. Lifting and peeling back layers that she was helpless to defend against.

  “Does my being in your room scare you that badly?” he asked softly.

  Her nostrils flared and it was on the tip of her tongue to deny that anything scared her. But that would be pretty stupid, and Connor Malone wasn’t stupid.

  “I’ll deal,” she said. “I won’t like it. I doubt you’ll like it. But I get it. My record label thinks I’m in danger and they hired you to babysit me. I’m not the idiot you think I am. I have no desire to die at the hands of some lunatic. Or be kidnapped and forced to live in a basement somewhere as a sex slave.”

  Connor let out a chuckle. “You have a vivid imagination. That’s good. The more hideous a fate you can imagine if this guy gets his hands on you, the easier you’ll make my job because you’ll stick like glue to me.”

  She turned so that their gazes met. “I thought you were supposed to stick to me like glue.”

  “That too. If we stick to each other, then we won’t have to worry, now, will we?”

  Coming from him, in his sexier-than-sin voice, the innocent words sounded like seduction. She’d never been wooed and seduced in her life and damn if he didn’t make her want to be.

  She’d be willing to bet he was one of those rare males who took his time with his lover. Coaxing, pleasuring. Unselfish. She’d bet money he’d give a woman complete and total satisfaction.

  Chill bumps danced down her arms, raising the tiny hairs on her skin. She could feel the heat radiating off him and it made her want to burrow against his broad chest and absorb him.

  What would it be like to lie in his arms? To have him hold her. Nothing else. Just . . . be.

  It was a ridiculous fantasy given the fact she didn’t want to be that close to anyone. The only thing worse than being alone was being one-on-one. Allowing someone to see inside her. To see the truth.

  Connor stood, shaking her from her reverie. “You were right about this room. It’s barely bigger than a closet. I wouldn’t have thought you’d be caught dead in anything smaller than a suite. You have so much stuff stacked up in here that you can barely take a piss in the toilet.”

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