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Anger rolled inside Meagan and she pulled away from Sam, charging forward. Meagan had been cautious around Kiki and her corporate connection for too long. She and her assistant were going to do a little dancing of their own.
SAM’S MEN HAD STEPPED UP to the plate, which was one piece of good in a lot of bad. He owed Josh a heck of a lot of kudos. The stage was well secured, the safety of the cast ensured as well as it could be, considering the circumstances. But there was no way to get the dancers off the stage, in the middle of a routine, without making matters worse.
Holding his position, Sam stood a few feet from Meagan, watching the heated exchange between her and Kiki, and noting the moment she broke from the argument to speak to Jensen, the show’s host, and then to one of the cameramen.
She then stood alone inside the ropes, arms crossed in front of her chest. She all but screamed annoyance, louder in Sam’s mind, than the music thrumming against every particle in the place. The dancer’s routine ended, and another started, and still Meagan didn’t move. Clearly, she’d decided to let this continue.
Sam made his way over to Josh, who’d texted his position. Sam ended up almost directly across from Meagan, who was staring at the stage.
“We breaking this up or what, boss?” Josh shouted over the music.
Sam could see the tension in Meagan’s body, despite the distance between them. Whatever had gone down between her and Kiki wasn’t good. Not that he’d expected it to be good, but he had a strong feeling that whatever had happened was worse than bad.
Suddenly, Meagan started walking toward the back of the stage. Sam cut Josh a sideways look. “Hold everyone right here. If anyone so much as breathes in another direction, I expect you to be on them.”
Josh gave him a two-finger salute, and then Sam was moving toward Meagan. He rounded the back of the stage and found a long hallway with a restroom sign, which was the only place Meagan could have gone.
He found her at the end of the narrow hallway and to the right, leaning against a wall with her head back, her eyes shut. For a moment, with her unaware of his presence, he took in the sight of her.
Petite and sexy, her long dark hair brushing her shoulders, he was so in tune with Meagan. He’d always had a connection to this woman. They had always been headed toward each other.
Everything male—hot and protective—screamed inside him, and pushed him into action. There was no hesitation, no thought of rejection, of her not needing him right now, because he knew she did.
Sam went to her, and before she knew he’d joined her, his hand gently cupped the side of her face, comforting her, while the other hand rested against the wall near her chin.
Her head lowered, eyes fixed on his, hands settling on his chest. “Sam.” She breathed out the word, and there as if relief there, like she was glad to see him.
“Talk to me, sweetheart. What happened? And why are you back here alone?”
“Just needed to think a minute. I’m handling this all wrong. Kiki and I argued. I threatened. She threatened. She won. She swears I signed a release for tonight along with some other forms I signed. She had to have snuck it in and I missed it.”
“Is that possible?”
“I don’t know. I told her I want to see the forms. But she says that if I go to Sabrina she’ll say she warned me about tonight’s potential liability ahead of time. I screwed up, Sam. I can’t even pull the dancers from the club because she said I can’t. Because she said, end of story. I okayed things in my contract I shouldn’t have. I can be removed if I’m a detriment to my own show. I can’t stop Kiki.”
“I can,” he said. “I’ll—”
She leaned in and pressed her mouth to his, the softness of her lips, the willingness of the connection, making him instantly rock hard.
“Don’t,” she whispered a moment later. “Don’t protect me, Sam. I don’t want to drag you into her line of fire. I won’t let that happen. Just…just kiss me.”
His arm slid around her. “I’ll do both.” He slanted his mouth over hers. She moaned and leaned into him, her hands gripping his shoulders. Something wild sprung to life around them—the club, the music, the desire so long bubbling between them—igniting in the seclusion of this one tiny spot, their escape in the midst of chaos. And the acknowledgment that they’d lied when they said they’d never kiss like this again.
Sam deepened the kiss, drinking her in. He knew even though she’d said “one night,” that she wanted another as badly as he did. His hands were all over her body, her hands were all over his—under his shirt, caressing his skin—scorching him to the point that he was ready to take her right here and now. And he wanted to.
He wanted to forget everything—he had forgotten everything. He should be focused on his job, but he was here, ready to rip her clothes off, damn thankful he could trust Josh to handle things elsewhere.
He stopped and pulled back to look at her. “You accuse me of wanting control,” he said. “Yet you steal it from me at every turn.”
“You can have it,” she panted. “I don’t want it.”
She reached for his jaw again, and he kissed her, tasted her, but there was something in her words, in her face, and he pulled back again, tenderness colliding with passion. “You aren’t letting her defeat you. I won’t let you.”
“Stop talking,” she ordered, sliding her hand down the front of his pants and stroking his cock. “Why are you always talking?”
Why was he talking? He palmed her backside and melded her to his shaft, claiming her mouth again, running his hand roughly over her breasts, pinching her nipples.
“Sam—” she moaned.
“Oh, yes—Sam.” The cold female voice that wasn’t Meagan’s froze both of them in place. Kiki.
“No,” Meagan whispered. “No.”
“Oh, yes. Yes, yes!” Kiki laughed. “I am here, and boy, what a show.”
Sam cursed under his breath, fully intending to handle this mess, so Meagan didn’t have to. But he should have known that Meagan’s moment of weakness when he’d found her in this hallway, was just that. And it was over now. In true Meagan form, she faced Kiki, obviously refusing to let her get the best of her. But before Meagan could say anything screams bellowed through the air. “Fight! Fight!”
Meagan took off running past Kiki, Sam behind her. They rounded the corner to discover the crowd surrounding the stage, where the dancers had been performing only minutes before. Now, a shoving match appeared to be taking place.
Meagan’s family-approved dance show was turning into a version of female fight club and that meant sponsors could be lost. And so could the show.
14
MEAGAN WAS ON the stage in a heartbeat thanks to Sam, who lifted her up and then jumped up behind her. And thanks to Sam’s staff, not only were the observers being held at bay, the fight was somewhat under control, as well.
Josh, and a female security person employed by Sam, were holding two contestants apart—Tabitha and a petite brunette dancer named Carrie White. Meagan had thought Carrie was fairly timid, but considering the clear mark down Tabitha’s face, she wasn’t so sure anymore.
Tabitha was fighting Josh, trying to get to Carrie. “You better watch your back!” Tabitha yelled at Carrie. “I’m going to make you pay for scratching me.”
“Enough!” Meagan yelled. “If either of you touches the other one again, you’re off the show.” She eyed them both. “Understood?”
Carrie quickly nodded. “I was just defending myself. She jumped on me, Meagan. She jumped on me and…I swear I was defending myself.”
Jensen, the tall, blond New Yorker, stepped forward. “It’s true. Tabitha jumped on Carrie.”
It didn’t take Meagan long to put two and two together. Tabitha and Jensen had been flirting on set. And since Jensen was defending Carrie, instead of Tabitha, it was a good bet that there was some sort of jealousy thing going on between the girls.
Kiki rushed onto the stage, conveniently after the fight had been derailed. “What happened?”
“They didn’t belong here, is what happened,” Sam said and motioned to Josh. “There’s a back door by the bathrooms. Let’s get everyone out that way, and make it snappy. As in yesterday.”
Fifteen minutes later, the dancers were heading in the direction of the hotel as Meagan and Sam followed. “You okay?” he asked, touching her arm to draw her to a halt.
“As okay as I can be considering what happened tonight.”
“I called Sabrina,” he said.
“What? When?”
“A few minutes ago.” He held up his hand. “And before you get mad—”
“I’m not,” she said. “I’m not. I know you’re trying to help, Sam. I know and I appreciate it. But I don’t want to drag you into this and endanger your career, and I feel like I already have.”
“It’s my job to protect the studio,” he said. “I’m working on a documentation trail that backs up my concerns about Kiki. I’ll handle this, but in the meantime, you have to keep her from doing any irreversible damage to the show.”
“I’m trying. I am desperately trying. What was the outcome of the call?”
“Sabrina thinks a lot of you and this show, but she has powerful people she answers to and big money at stake. I have full authority to investigate Kiki but she is well connected and she’s been praised for saving the network from several disasters. I’m fairly confident they were manufactured disasters. She’s clearly been rewarded for her actions in some way, shape or form, and she’s just as clearly after the gold now. We have to tread carefully.”
“If she’s that powerful then tonight might be the end, Sam. If that fight makes the tabloids then it could already be the death of our sponsors.”
“Then get more.”
“It’s not that easy for a new show, Sam.”
“All right. Then let’s think this through. You want the cameras rolling in the house because you want to feature the real lives of the contestants while they traveled this journey.”
“Yes, but this isn’t what I had in mind. I thought it would be kids getting nervous about performances, their dreams and desires. Their inspiration. Not threats, fights and exploding water pipes.”
“So, not real life, then.”
“Yes, real life.”
“You’re too close to this show emotionally,” he said. “Step back and think of it like you did when you were producing a news program. Surely, you were battling competitors all the time for top stories.”
“Yes,” she said. “We were.”
“Then do that now. Stop thinking about the show like it’s a dream. Save that for the celebration when it’s a hit.”
She considered him a moment and nodded. “You’re right. You are absolutely right.”
“Okay, then,” he said. “Us Special Ops guys are all about damage control. My first thought is that what happened tonight, despite Kiki’s manipulation and mishandling, was raw and very real.”
“Not in a good way,” Meagan argued.
“Reality means real—and that isn’t always pretty. That fight evolved from the pressures of competition, more than anything else. I bet you can do something with that to make it a powerful episode.”
His words sparked a few interesting ideas in Meagan’s mind. “You know, now that I’m thinking about this with some distance, I think I can. I could even do a press release and frame the fight the way I want it framed. I can send it to the sponsors and promise them some preview footage before I air a show around tonight’s events.”
“Perfect,” he said. “Hell, give Kiki credit. Praise her to your staff. If you spin tonight into something brilliant, you deflate her efforts to make you look bad. Which means tonight becomes a win for the show.”
A slow smile slid onto Meagan’s lips. “Oh my God, you are the one who’s brilliant. I love you, Sam.”
The words dropped heavily between them, out before she could stop them. She could barely breathe because…she might actually be falling in love with him.
“And here I thought I’d be lucky just to get you to like me.” His voice was soft, his gaze hot.
Meagan didn’t know what to say so she did what she always did with Sam. She picked a fight. “I won’t if you do things like tonight. You distracted me from a critical situation and had me making out in the club.”
“No, I didn’t.”
She blinked. “What? That’s all you’re going to say? No, you didn’t.”
“You were beating yourself up, and searching for a way to feel something other than defeat. You used me to do that, and I was helpless to resist, though I shouldn’t have been. I should have been focused on my job. So you distracted me.”
“You’re blaming me for distracting you from your job?”
He smiled. “Exactly.”
“You distracted me,” she said. “You distracted me, Sam.”
“Seems we have a mutually distracting impact on one another.”
“So we can’t…we have to stop doing things like tonight.”
“I want to kiss you.”
“No.”
“Yes. I do.”
“No. You can’t. We can’t, Sam.” Her chest tightened because the realization washed over her and she couldn’t selfishly ignore it at Sam’s expense. “Kiki is going—”
“I don’t care about Kiki.”
“I do. We have to.”
“Let’s walk,” he said abruptly, turning toward the hotel, clearly not happy with her.
Meagan’s stomach clenched. Her chest got even tighter. The same feelings she’d had back in the break room. She wanted him to understand, yet she didn’t want him to understand at all. She was more screwed up over Sam than ever.
“That’s it?” she asked, falling into step with him. “Let’s walk?”
“What do you want me to do besides walk?” he asked. “Pull you against the wall and kiss you again?”
Yes. Oh, yes. Please. She grabbed his arm and brought him to a standstill. “You’re making me crazy, Sam. I don’t know what to do here.”
“Right there with ya, sweetheart.”
“Sam. Please. Even Sabrina is cautious about Kiki. Sabrina! She’s powerful. She’s one of the executives. I’m afraid that I’ll drag you to the unemployment line with me if this goes badly.”
“No,” he said. “That’s not the problem. I’m trying to get through this with you. You’re trying to find a way to do it without me. There’s a difference. A big difference.” He started to walk again. She didn’t. She stared after him, all that emotion in her chest balled so tightly, she could barely breathe. She wanted to go after him, she wanted to dispute his words, make him understand. But he wouldn’t understand. She’d figured that out about Sam.
He wasn’t an arrogant jerk. He wasn’t a control freak. He had a whole lot of hero in him. He’d tell her it was okay, that he wasn’t risking his job, to be with her. And that mattered to her. He mattered to her. She had to let him go.
He was right though. Rather than using her smarts, she’d been letting her emotions get involved when dealing with Kiki, and everything to do with this show. That ended tonight.
EARLY THE NEXT MORNING, Sam was awake and thankful for the coffeemaker in the room. He might be a soldier at heart, but he’d never been a soldier who denied himself thick, black hardcore caffeine when he needed it.
He finished off a cup, with one thing on his mind. Meagan had let him walk away the night before. Again. Damn, he’d never been a glutton for punishment before. This was unfamiliar, uncomfortable territory, and he had to get some space, to get his head clear. Setting the mug aside, dressed in his jeans and a T-shirt, he was ready to finish the deal for the house and get his hands dirty securing the property.
Around the hotel, Meagan was too close for comfort. Where just knowing she was a few doors down had him climbing the walls, and right out of his skin.
He stepped into the deserted hallway, everyone still in bed, when he was surprised to hear a contestant’s door open and then quietly shut. Sam frowned and soon came face to face with Carrie.
“Oh, I…I…didn’t think anyone would be up yet.”
“I see that,” he commented, noting the rolling suitcase behind her. The kid couldn’t be more than eighteen or nineteen, maybe twenty. “Going somewhere?”
Silent tears started to stream down her cheeks, and Sam knew exactly what he had to do. “Come with me.”
A few seconds later, Meagan’s door opened. She was still wearing a pair of Mickey Mouse pajamas, with her hair sticking up wildly, and looking more sexy than he could imagine any one woman looking. And when such an appearance could not only get a guy hot, but make him smile, inside out, he was as hooked as a bee on honey. Sam knew right then, he couldn’t hide from what this woman was doing to him, no matter how he tried.
The instant Meagan saw Carrie, her eyes widened, all signs of sleep slipping away. She hugged Carrie, her eyes meeting Sam’s. She motioned them inside.
The kitten met Sam at the door, meowing loudly. Sam fed the hungry little beast, and then went for the coffeepot, knowing that Meagan was running on limited to no sleep. By the time the pot was brewing, Meagan had Carrie sitting cross-legged across from her on the bed, spilling her story.
“She hates me,” Carrie was saying. “Absolutely hates me.”
“Competition can be brutal,” Meagan said. “But everything worth having is worth fighting for. And you know what? The things you have to work the hardest for, are the ones you appreciate the most. The question is, do you want this bad enough to fight for it? Your packed bag makes me wonder.”
“I want to dance,” she said. “I don’t want to fight with Tabitha.”
“So you don’t want this.”
“That’s not what I said!”
“You aren’t willing to fight.”
“I am.”
“Just not Tabitha.”
“She’s the meanest person I’ve ever known.”
“Until you meet the next one like her,” Meagan pointed out. “There are tons of Kikis in this world.” Sam took a seat nearby, across from the bed. Meagan’s eyes found his an instant before she added, “Listen, Carrie. Real life isn’t always pretty. Everyone isn’t going to be nice to you, and everything isn’t going to come with a shiny pink bow on top. You can’t let people like Tabitha steal your dreams, make you give up.”
Sam took in those words, took in what she was telling him indirectly. She had a dream and she was scared of losing it. He knew that, but hearing it again wasn’t easy. She had baggage she had to deal with, and there wasn’t room for him inside her life until she did—if she ever did.
“I sprained my ankle last night,” Carrie announced. “It’s bad, Meagan. I hid it but it’s getting worse.” She laughed bitterly. “I’d rather the curse would have gotten anything but my ankle.”
“There is no curse,” Meagan said. “And a sprain can be wrapped and medicated. You have ten days before your first performance. Or, you can use that and Tabitha as reason to quit. Your choice.”
“I don’t want to quit. I don’t. But—”
“No buts,” Meagan warned. “I’m going to get tough with you now. In or out. Fight or give up. You choose.”
“You really think I can do this?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think,” she said. “It matters what you know. But for the record, you wouldn’t be here if I didn’t believe in you.”
Carrie flung her arms around Meagan’s neck and hugged her. The unfinished business between Meagan and him thicker than the coffee he’d made in his room.
“I’m going to fight. I’m going to beat Tabitha and win this competition.”
“Good,” Meagan said. “I can’t wait to watch it happen.”
More chatter followed, and some coddling of the kitten, before Carrie returned to her room to sleep as long as she could before rehearsals, which had been pushed back, after the nightclub incident, until noon.
Sam made to leave, as well.
“Sam, wait,” Meagan said, her hand touching his arm, heat scorching, his cock thickening as if she’d just invited him to join her in bed.
He held the door open, not about to let rumors fly any more than they probably were. He also wasn’t about to tempt himself into kissing her how he’d wanted to ever since he’d walked into the room.
His gaze met hers, and he could read her expression, read the “I can’t” in her face. “I met with my crew last night and we did a press release that also went to the sponsors. One of the sponsors called me immediately and expressed how thrilled they were with the buzz the show was getting. After that, Kiki happily took credit, and I was happy to let her.”
“Good,” he said. “I’m glad it worked out.”
“Me, too,” she said, and hesitated, as if she wanted to add something else.
Sam continued waiting, wanting to know what that something else was, his heart racing. This woman really was making him crazy.
Finally, she said, “I…I left my phone and purse in your truck.”
“Right,” he answered flatly, his pulse slowing. “Your phone and your purse. I’ll have it dropped off.” He didn’t wait for a reply. He left with absolutely no question in his mind, that once again, she had purposely let him go. It was a habit she couldn’t seem to break.
15
A WEEK LATER, MEAGAN was pacing the stage in the auditorium where the first live show would take place in two days. Two short, too quickly approaching days and too many days away from Sam. Oh, he was around, but he wasn’t really around, not for her, that was. It didn’t matter that it was for the best, that it was the right thing to do to protect him. She missed him.
She raked her hand through her hair, her stress level at its highest. There was an electronic short in the stage’s lighting system, thus sound checks had gone horribly, and the hot band that was set to perform for the big premiere had cancelled. Their lead singer had laryngitis.
The “cursed” and “nightclub” episodes of the show had run two nights in a row with huge ratings, but the live show was the true test. Could the dancing part of the equation pull in ratings? There were plenty inside the studio who doubted that, thus the contestant house had been incorporated into the concept of the show.
“We snagged Mason Montgomery,” Kiki announced, rushing down the center aisle. Mason Montgomery being a popular new singer who’d just hit the charts. “He’ll be here and he’s excited to perform.”
Meagan let out a relieved breath. “That’s great news.” To Kiki’s credit, and Sam’s for his suggestion, ever since she’d given Kiki credit for the nightclub episode, she’d actually seemed to care about the show.
“Are we moving into the house tomorrow or what?” Kiki asked, drawing to the edge of the stage, next to the judges’ table, hands on her hips. “We need to get organized.”
“Negotiations are still underway,” she said. “But I hope so. I’m expecting word any minute.”
Kiki grimaced. “Look. I know you hate the reality, club-fight stuff, but our ratings are off the charts. I want this show to make it as much as you do. We need to do something spectacular to ensure the dancing gets an audience. We don’t have time to make that happen in the house this week.”
Meagan’s cell phone rang, and she eyed the number. “That’s Josh now.” Josh. Not Sam. She’d barely seen, or talked to Sam since Carrie’s visit to her room. She was shocked at just how much she missed that banter.
She flipped open her phone. “Hey, Josh.”
“We’re a go, but Sam wants you to drive out and give us a final thumbs-up before we get everyone out here.”
Meagan ended the call, eager to see the house and move in. And yes. Eager to see Sam.
“I NEED A SCREWDRIVER,” Sam yelled to one of his men from under the kitchen cabinet of the contestant’s house.
“One screwdriver coming up.” The tool landed in his outstretched palm, and Sam went completely still. Meagan. Meagan, so close her leg was touching his. Slowly, he eased his head out from under the cabinet to find her squatting beside him. Little brown wisps of hair floating over her brow. He loved her hair—how it felt, how it smelled.