Sex, Gossip and Rock & Roll

CHAPTER THREE

CHARLI cranked up the stereo as they left the city traffic behind, hoping Luca would get the hint. She’d tried telling him to his face; it had done nothing. Maybe the subtle approach would work better?

Yeah, and maybe he’d shut up for the duration of the tour. Absolutely no chance.

Ever since he’d kissed her she’d avoided looking at him; couldn’t look at him, really, not without staring at his mouth. And if she did that. She could verbally flay him all she liked but her eyes couldn’t lie. One look and he’d know exactly how his kiss affected her: rattled beyond belief.

Forget the fact she hadn’t had a date in nine months let alone a hint of a smooch. Abstinence couldn’t explain her irrational, overwhelming urge to keep kissing him until they were breathless, the urge to run her hands all over him, the urge to tear her clothes off and straddle him and let him prove to her if half of what she’d read about his playboy reputation was true.

A car overtook them on the freeway, the four-wheel-drive’s tail-lights seeming to wink at her and she blinked. Even damn inanimate objects were laughing at her expense.

How stupid could she be? The kiss meant nothing, was more of the same teasing he’d been doing ever since she’d had the misfortune to knock on his hotel door.

For some unknown reason he’d wanted to rile her the second he’d opened the door to her wearing a towel and that infuriatingly cocky smile. So far, he’d done a good job of it. He’d flirted with her, insulted her and kissed her, all within the first hour. Didn’t bode well for the rest of the fortnight.

‘We nearly there yet?’

‘What are you? Four?’

Slowing to let a truck pass, she smirked. ‘Silly me, that’s just your IQ.’

He chuckled, a low, throaty sound that rippled over her like soft velvet.

‘I love it when you’re feisty.’

‘I love it when you’re silent.’

She turned up the music, unconsciously humming along with her favourite pop ballad. Of course he had to go one better, singing along in perfect tune, the lyrics sounding like erotic pillow talk tripping from his lips.

She gulped, her hands clenching the steering wheel so tight her knuckles stood out. A hot flush started somewhere in the vicinity of her belly and spread upwards and outwards, burning her up from the inside out as he crooned about touching and pleasure and all night long.

‘Interesting taste in music,’ he said when the song thankfully ended and she sighed in relief.

‘I like pop. Didn’t peg you for a fan, though.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘Don’t guys go in for heavier stuff?’

She jumped when he reached across and squeezed her hand on the gear stick.

‘Thought you’d have figured out by now, I’m not your average guy.’

‘No, you’re more annoying than most.’

Though that was a lie. Sure, he’d done his best to wind her up when they first met, was still doing it in fact, but he wasn’t annoying so much as intriguing. And that was what made her mad; that she’d been all set to dislike him, and every time he opened his mouth only reinforced the fact, but she couldn’t.

He was the first guy in ages to pique her interest, to make her want to retaliate. The first guy to make her body tingle from top to toe, to make her skin prickle with awareness, to make her yearn for more than a teasing brush of his lips.

‘Why don’t you admit it?’

Grateful she had to focus on the freeway, she didn’t need to look his way to hear the laughter in his voice.

‘Admit what?’

‘That I’m growing on you.’

‘Yeah, like fungus.’

‘Now who’s the child? Didn’t that one get used around third grade?’

‘Should be about your level, then.’

She saw him recline his seat out of the corner of her eye and wriggle around to get comfortable before clasping his hands behind his head.

‘You know, I’ve been around the block a few times. Dated princesses, movie stars, models. But you, you’re something else.’

She didn’t know if he’d just complimented or insulted her but the thought of him being with all those women served as a wake-up call. He’d said it himself. He’d been around and no way was she foolish enough to become another string on his guitar.

‘So you’ve slept around a lot. Doesn’t make you a good judge of women.’

‘Who said anything about sleeping around?’

She blushed, hating how she’d have to dig herself out of this one.

‘You did—’

‘I said dating. Not the same thing. Do you sleep with all the guys you date?’

‘‘Course not!’

Besides, she’d have to date to have a chance at sleeping with them and she’d been so busy these past few years, proving herself, proving to Hector he hadn’t made a mistake taking in a scruff like her, she’d had limited down time. When she had dated she’d chosen guys so removed from her past that once they got beyond the first few dates she found they had nothing in common.

Ironic, the cool musos who once held so much appeal left her dead now. She’d seen what that world could do, the havoc it wrought if you got caught up in the glamour and the rush, and thankfully she’d never been inclined to date Landry’s clientele.

‘You seeing anyone?’

‘Like that’d stop you,’ she muttered, shooting him a withering glance as he held up his hands in surrender.

‘Hey, I like a challenge but I don’t poach.’

‘What’s it to you anyway?’

Her heart stuttered when he leaned across, their shoulders brushing, and it took all her concentration to focus on the freeway and not land them in a ditch.

‘We’re both single. We’re stuck together for this tour. We’re attracted to each other. You do the math.’

‘One plus one equals a bit fat zero?’

Disappointingly he didn’t retaliate, the loaded silence only serving to notch up the intimacy, and she silently swore. This car was her pride and joy, a symbol of how hard she’d worked, how far she’d come but right now the interior she usually found comfortingly cosy seemed stifling.

It was him, of course, with his big chest and big shoulders and big head.

‘Care to lay a wager on that?’

She bit back her first response of where he could stick his wager.

‘Because from where I’m sitting, the two of us getting together by the end of this tour is inevitable.’

This time, her cursing wasn’t so silent and she clenched the steering wheel, not risking a glance in his direction and catching the smug grin that had to be plastered across his too-handsome face.

The guy was infuriating.

The guy was annoying.

The guy was only verbalising what she’d already envisaged in her mixed-up head, making her mad as hell.

She cranked up the music and he wisely shut up. If only he’d stay mute for the rest of the tour.

The road trip from hell got worse the moment Charli approached the front desk of the apartments where they were staying.

‘Welcome to Ballarat, Miss Chambers.’

‘Thanks. Do you have our room keys?’

The receptionist’s smile faded. ‘We do but there’s been a problem.’

Charli didn’t need any more problems. Bad enough she had one big problem tagging along for the tour.

‘What’s up?’

The receptionist’s eyes widened and her jaw sagged as Luca strode into the small reception area.

The woman had to be fiftysomething but she had a pulse and any woman would’ve drooled over Luca—including her, sadly, considering she couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss the entire drive.

‘I thought I told you to wait in the car,’ she muttered, shooting him a frown that only served to widen his permanent grin.

Leaning down, he murmured in her ear, ‘Heads-up. I’m a big boy now. I don’t always do as I’m told.’

She gulped at the hint of danger tinged with promise in his smoother-than-honey tone, grateful when the receptionist held out a pair of key cards.

‘Management’s apologies, but due to the construction work next door and burst water mains we’ve had to put you both in the same apartment. It’s a two-bedroom, far end of the corridor. If you need anything—’

‘But I made this booking a month ago. You must have another apartment.’

Her voice had risen to an embarrassing squeak and she clamped her lips shut as the receptionist shook her head.

‘I’m sorry, Miss Chambers, this is all we’ve got.’

Her brusque tone held a distinct undercurrent of ‘take it or leave it’ and, considering this had been her last resort due to some folk festival coinciding with Storm’s first gig in town booking up every last room, she had no choice.

‘We’ll take it,’ Luca said, swiping the key cards from the receptionist with a dazzling smile that had the older woman practically purring. ‘Thanks.’

‘You’re welcome, sir.’

Charli slumped, her heart sinking as Luca draped an arm over her shoulders and drawled, ‘Let’s go, roomie. I’m looking forward to bunking down.’

She elbowed him in the ribs, hard.

As Luca opened the door to their apartment and gestured her in Charli realised things could be worse. The apartment complex might’ve shoved them into a one-bedroom. But as she stepped into the apartment, only slightly larger than a shoebox, her relief was short-lived.

In a place this size she’d be forced to interact with Luca whether she liked it or not.

Either that or spend every spare second when she wasn’t working in her bedroom and, considering that consisted of a narrow bed and little else, it’d get mighty uncomfortable mighty fast.

With her blood pressure spiking along with her temper, she snatched up her overnight bag and strode into the closest bedroom, flinging it onto the bed and bumping her elbow on the door in the process.

Luca watching her in silent amusement didn’t help and she stalked towards him, every step bringing her closer to slugging him. He must’ve caught the maniacal gleam in her eyes for he quickly shut the door and held up his hands in surrender.

‘Hey, I’m not the bad guy here. You made the bookings. I’m just tagging along as your new finance manager, remember?’

‘How could I forget? ‘

She stood toe to toe with him, wanting to hit him for no other reason than he was convenient and she had to take her temper out on someone. She wasn’t the fiery type usually, had learned to master her emotions and hide them beneath a veneer of indifference, the only way to cope with her manic mother’s mood swings and total disregard for her only child.

But her temper had been building the entire trip and she had to find a release before she exploded. Temper or something else? She banished the thought in an instant, not willing to acknowledge that this wild, out-of-control feeling had more to do with sexual tension than anger.

But it was there, simmering between them, and when she locked gazes with his the air between them shimmered and coalesced into something bigger than the both of them.

Her heart stalled when he reached for her, the crackle of electricity zapping her into reality.

She had a job to do, he had his. That was it.

She’d manage Storm, he’d manage the money. Co-workers, that was what they were for the next fortnight. That was all. And if her momentary reality flash wasn’t enough, the fact he was Hector’s grandson, the man she owed everything to, should be enough of a wake-up call.

Dragging in several shaky breaths, she placed a hand on his chest to stall him.

‘Ignoring this isn’t going to make it go away,’ he said, his heat burning her through the cotton of his shirt.

‘Maybe not, but I have to try.’

With a reluctant sigh, she patted his chest and walked away, his gaze burning her back until she shut the door on her stupidity and quite possibly the best offer she’d had in a long time.

Charli was going stir crazy.

She’d holed up in her room for half an hour: unpacking, unravelling, unhinged.

If she couldn’t spend two nights in the same apartment as Luca what chance did she have surviving the rest of the week? Storm had several gigs scattered through country Victoria over the next seven days, a warm-up for his big Melbourne debut in a fortnight.

She’d co-ordinated his itinerary to within an inch and then he’d thrown a spanner in the works, announcing his kid would be tagging along. From what she’d seen, rock tours were the last place for kids but in true Landry Records style she’d adjusted the itinerary to include fun kid stuff in Storm’s down time.

It had all been running smoothly since that slight hiccup until Hector had fired Klaus and Luca had taken his place on tour. From what she’d learned with a few discreet inquiries, the guy could handle money. Sadly, she feared he could handle her as easily.

She paced the postage-stamp-size room, tossing around different scenarios in her head of how this could pan out.

She could avoid him other than the work stuff scheduled. She could feign politeness and spend the least amount of time with him possible. Or she could go out there and face Luca as she’d faced every other challenge in her life: with head held high, with bravado, with the confidence she could handle whatever he dished up and more.

Besides, since when had she run from a challenge? Her job presented challenges on a daily basis, from placating irate fans who couldn’t get VIP tickets to ego stroking the latest chart topper and everything in between.

So what was one cocky, charming playboy? She should be able to handle him with her eyes closed. Therein lay the problem: if she closed her eyes, she could envision exactly how she’d like to handle him and it sure as hell wasn’t in a professional manner.

How could she have the hots for someone she seriously wanted to strangle? He’d done nothing but goad her, tease her and throw her off balance since they’d met. And she still had no idea what he was doing here: back in Melbourne, doing Pop a favour when he’d practically ignored his existence until now?

What would a hotshot playboy want with filling in a temp job in the music industry?

Unless Pop was grooming him to take over.

Her eyes flew open as horror lodged in her gut.

No way.

Hector was at the top of his game, a fit seventy and showing no sign of slowing. Dynamic, knowledgeable, an entrepreneur with brains and morals, Hector could rule the music industry in Australia for the next decade. But once the thought had taken form it blossomed into a nasty suspicion that wouldn’t go away.

Luca Petrelli as her boss? She’d rather work for her illustrious charge Storm Varth, Australia’s oldest, crankiest rock star who went through personal assistants as fast as girlfriends.

She had to know why Luca was really here. Now.

Flinging her bedroom door open, she marched out into the lounge room, ready to take him on. And promptly deflated when she caught sight of the meal he’d laid out on the coffee table.

While she’d alternated between fuming and sulking in her room, he’d ducked out to the shops and bought a gourmet picnic, the staggering array of cheeses, cold meats and grilled vegetables making her mouth water.

Her stomach rumbled as the tantalising aroma of garlic-infused Turkish bread and chilli olives wafted over her and she realised how long it had been since she’d last eaten. Breakfast, eight hours ago? She’d been too wound up since then: picking up Luca, the drive here, getting a grip on her crazy behaviour—like allowing him to kiss her.

Unable to resist the lure of food she plopped onto one of the sofas just as Luca stepped out of his bedroom, and she could’ve sworn she salivated more at the sight of him than the antipasto platter.

He’d changed into running shorts that revealed long, muscular legs, and a white T-shirt that set off his tan, and all she could think about was how hungry she was. But not for food.

‘Going for a run?’

His mouth quirked into a crooked smile that made her heart flutter wildly.

‘Yeah, thought I’d leave you to eat in peace.’

She swallowed her disappointment. Probably for the best. She’d confront him better on a full stomach.

‘Okay.’

He stalked towards her and she held her breath as he squatted next to her, his forearm brushing her thigh. ‘Unless you want me to stay?’

She should fob him off, get rid of him so she could strategise how she’d confront him later.

Instead, she found herself nodding. ‘There’s an awful lot of food here, shame to let it go to waste.’

His knowing grin had her wiggling in discomfort. He knew exactly what her concession meant: she wanted him to share this meal with her for no other reason than she liked him. Liked sparring with him, liked his flirting, liked how he made her feel alive.

Letting her hair slide forward to hide her blush, she grabbed a plate and filled it with a selection of olives, salami, Brie and Turkish bread.

‘Thanks for this. It looks great.’

‘You’re welcome.’

Folding his frame into the chair next to her, he helped himself, slathered hummus onto bread and piled it high with semi-dried tomatoes, grilled eggplant and roasted capsicum.

‘Beryl at Reception pointed me in the right direction of a local deli within walking distance.’

‘Bet you smiled and she fell all over you.’

He shrugged, his modest grin endearing. ‘Pity this legendary charm you attribute to me doesn’t work on you.’

Oh, it was working all right. She’d only met him a few hours ago yet she felt strangely comfortable sitting here sharing an impromptu indoor picnic.

She didn’t trust easily, never let anyone get too close, so the fact she’d invited Luca to join her spoke volumes.

‘I’m immune,’ she said, forking olives into her mouth, almost choking when he patted her knee.

‘That’s what they all say.’

‘I bet.’

Her wry smile made him laugh and she joined in, some of her animosity towards him fading. It wasn’t any secret the guy was a world-renowned playboy. Pick up a glossy magazine and Luca’s picture would be in it: strutting the red carpet with an Oscar nominee on his arm, frolicking in the Caribbean ocean, driving a fast car in Monte Carlo.

He never hid who he was. Pity she couldn’t say the same.

‘So what are you doing here?’

‘Thought that would’ve been obvious.’

The corners of his eyes crinkled adorably as he winked. ‘Having dinner with a beautiful woman.’

She snorted. ‘Why are you in Melbourne, filling in on the tour?’

When his smile faded, she pushed. ‘Helping Hector when you haven’t seen him in ten years?’

‘That’s none of your business.’

If he thought his cold, clipped tone would shut her up, he could think again.

‘Actually, it is. Hector’s a friend as well as my boss and I don’t want anyone taking advantage of him.’

‘Funny, that’s what I thought about you when we first met.’

Hating that she had to justify herself to him, she toyed with the food on her plate.

‘Hector’s my mentor. He gave me my first break when I was a teenager looking for a job.’

And a home and a life off the streets, where she’d had to live for a horrific fortnight that haunted her for years afterwards. But Luca was on a need-to-know basis and the depth of her caring for Hector had nothing to do with him.

‘I respect him more than anyone, would never take advantage of him.’

He pinned her with an intimidating glare. ‘And you think I would?’

‘Would you?’ She shrugged, ‘I wouldn’t know, considering you haven’t visited your grandfather in all the years I’ve been around.’

An emotion she couldn’t fathom flickered in his eyes—regret?—before he sat back and draped an arm across the back of the sofa, his forced casualness not fooling her for a second.

‘You’re not going to give up, are you?’

‘Nope.’

He ruffled the back of his hair, the strands curling around his fingers like caramel swirls, making her own fingers ache to delve in.

‘He called me, said he was in a bind, so here I am. Satisfied?’

Not by a long shot. His trite answer hid a truth he wouldn’t divulge to her: she could see it in the tense shoulders, in the rigid neck muscles, the pinch behind his smile.

There was more to him being here and if he had some nefarious plan … The food she’d just consumed roiled in her stomach. If Luca had lied to her, she’d lied to him too. Hector meant more to her than a friend and boss.

He was the man who’d taken a chance on a homeless kid when no one else had given a flying fig. He’d seen past her quick temper and resistance and resentment and opened his home, his heart and his life to her. He’d trusted her and she’d never let him down, so the thought he might not have trusted her with this …

‘What’s wrong?’

Luca was beside her in an instant, his concerned expression warming her heart and showing her there was more to him than lazy smiles and practised charm. She couldn’t tell him the truth, that she didn’t believe a word he said, so she blurted the first thing that popped into her head.

‘Indigestion.’

She rubbed her chest to add authenticity and his eyes narrowed, shrewd, assessing, disbelieving.

Luca knew how to call a bluff. He’d been doing it his entire life.

‘Anything I can do?’