Tempted By The Rock Star. Кейт Хьюит
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was such obvious bravado that Luke almost laughed. ‘Then why write a different kind of song? Why ask to sing it? Why accept the Bryant’s booking when you haven’t performed publicly in years?’
Her mouth twisted. ‘Done a little Internet stalking, have you?’
‘I didn’t need to look on the Internet to know that.’ She shook her head, said nothing. ‘Anyway,’ he continued in a brisker voice, ‘the point is, I’ve been trying to reinvent Bryant’s for years and—’
‘What’s been stopping you?’
Luke hesitated. He didn’t want to bring up Aaron and his constant quest for control. ‘Change doesn’t happen overnight,’ he finally said. ‘And Bryant’s has a century-old reputation. There’s been resistance.’
‘There always is.’
‘So see? We have something else in common.’
‘You want to reinvent a store and I want to reinvent myself.’
Luke didn’t answer, because there was an edge to her voice that made him think a simple agreement was not the right choice here. He waited, wondered why it mattered to him so much.
He didn’t need Aurelie. He didn’t need her to open a store or sing a damn song. He didn’t need her at all.
Yet as she gazed at him with those rain-washed eyes he felt a tug deep inside that he couldn’t begin to understand. More than lust, deeper than need. Despite having had three long-term satisfying relationships, he’d never felt this whirlpool of emotion before, as if he were being dragged under by the force of his own feelings. Never mind her being scared. He was terrified.
The smart thing to do right now would be to get out of this chair, out of this house. Walk away from Aurelie and all her crazy complications and go about his business, his life, the way he always had. Calm and in control, getting things done, never going too deep.
He didn’t move.
Aurelie drew a deep breath, let it out slowly. ‘Let me play you my song,’ she finally said and, surprised and even touched, Luke nodded.
‘I’d like that.’
She smiled faintly, that whisper of a promise, and wordlessly Luke followed her out of the room.
AURELIE LED LUKE into the music room at the front of the house, her heart thudding, her skin turning clammy. She felt dizzy with nerves, and silently prayed that she wouldn’t pass out. The last thing she needed was Luke Bryant to think she’d ODed again.
She paused in front of the piano, half-regretting her suggestion already. No, not even half—totally. Why was she opening herself up to this? She didn’t need money. She didn’t need to sing in public again. She didn’t need any of this.
But she wanted it. She actually wanted to share something that was important to her, share it with this man, never mind the public, even as it scared her near witless.
‘Aurelie?’
There was something about the way he said her name, so quietly, so gently, that made her ache deep inside. She swallowed, her face turned away from him. ‘It sounds better with guitar.’
‘Okay.’
She reached for her acoustic guitar, the one her grandmother had bought her just before she’d died. Don’t forget who you really are, Aurie. Don’t let them turn your head. But she had let them. She’d forgotten completely. Her fingers curled around the neck of the guitar and, unable to look at Luke—afraid to see the expression on his face—she bent her head and busied herself with tuning the instrument. Needlessly, since she’d played it that afternoon.
After a few taut minutes she knew she couldn’t wait any longer. Yet she was terrified to play the song, terrified to have Luke reject it. Her. He’d let her down easily because, no matter what he said, she knew he did feel sorry for her. But it would still hurt.
‘So has this song got some kind of long silent intro or what?’
She let out a little huff of laughter, glad he’d jolted her out of her ridiculous stage fright. ‘Patience.’ And taking a deep breath, she began. The first few melancholy chords seemed to flow through her, out into the room. And then she began to sing, not one of the belt-it-out numbers of her pop star days, but something low and intimate and tender. ‘Winter came so early, it caught me by surprise. I stand alone till the cold wind blows the tears into my eyes.’ She hesitated for a tiny second, trying to gauge Luke’s reaction, but the song seemed to take up all the space. ‘I turn my face into the wind and listen to the sound. Never give your heart away. It will only bring you down.’ And then she forgot about Luke, and just sang. The song took over everything.
Yet when the last chord died away and the room seemed to bristle with silence, she felt her heart thud again and she couldn’t look at him. Staring down at her guitar, she idly picked a few strings. ‘It’s kind of a downer of a song, isn’t it?’ she said with an unsteady little laugh. ‘Probably not the best number to open a store with.’
‘That doesn’t matter.’ She couldn’t tell a thing from his tone, and she still couldn’t look at him. ‘Of course, if you had another one, maybe a bit more hopeful, you could sing that one too.’
Something leapt inside her, a mongrel beast of hope and fear. A dangerous animal. She looked up, saw him gazing at her steadily, yet without any expression she could define. ‘I could?’
‘Yes.’
‘So …’ She swallowed. ‘What did you think? Of the song?’
‘I thought,’ Luke said quietly, with obvious and utter sincerity, ‘it was amazing.’
‘Oh.’ She looked back down at her guitar, felt tears sting her eyes and blinked hard to keep them back. Damn it, she was not going to cry in front of this man. Not now. Not ever. ‘Well … good.’ She kept her head lowered, and then she felt Luke shift. He’d been sitting across from her, but now he leaned forward, his knee almost nudging hers.
‘I can understand why you’re scared.’
Instinct kicked in. ‘I never actually said I was scared.’ And then she sniffed, loudly, which basically blew her cover.
‘You didn’t have to.’ He placed one hand on her knee, and she gazed down at it, large, brown, strong. Comforting. ‘That song is very personal.’
Which was why she felt so … naked right now, every protective layer peeled away. She swallowed, stared at his hand, mesmerised by the long, lean fingers curled unconsciously around her knee. ‘It’s just a song.’
‘Is it?’
And then she looked up at him, and knew she was in trouble. He was gazing at her with such gentle understanding, such tender compassion, that she felt completely exposed and accepted at the same time. It was such a weird feeling, such an overwhelming feeling, that it was almost painful. She swallowed. ‘Luke …’ Her voice came out husky, and she saw his pupils flare. Felt the very air tauten. This tender moment was turning into something else, something Aurelie knew and understood.
This was about sex. It was always about sex. And while part of her felt disappointed, another part flared to life.
Luke straightened, taking his hand from her knee. ‘I should go. It’s late.’
‘You can’t drive all the way back to New York tonight.’
‘I’ll find a place to stay.’ He made to rise from his chair, and Aurelie felt panic flutter like a trapped, desperate bird inside her.
‘You could stay here.’
He