Weren’t women supposed to be the emotional creatures who couldn’t separate sex from love?

He was fucked. So fucked.

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He glanced down to see her eyes closed and her chest rising and falling as she cuddled against him. With a resigned sigh, he made the mental effort to shut his brain off. One should never make life-altering decisions when holding a naked woman in his arms.

For a long moment they lay there, silent and unmoving. He was about to drift into sleep himself, content that she hadn’t hauled ass, when she stirred against him and started to push away.

The alarm went off in his brain as she started to roll. He reached for her but she slipped from his grasp.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” she whispered, just as she’d done the first night they’d made love.

And he knew, just as he’d known then, that she wouldn’t be back.

CHAPTER 26

It was somehow fitting that during the night a cold front moved through and brought with it raw, rainy temperatures. In a lot of ways, it suited Lyric’s mood.

Fear was cold. Fear had icy fingers that gripped your heart and spread its chill through your soul.

Connor scared her. Not him, but what he represented. No matter what she did, she couldn’t rid herself of the panicky, tight feeling in her chest.

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How could she face him after what she’d done? He’d been . . . perfect. Just perfect. More than perfect. She didn’t even have words to describe it simply because she’d never had a man look at her, touch her . . . love her as Connor had done.

And her response? Run like hell.

She rubbed tiredly at her forehead as she stood shivering in the rain. She hadn’t slept. She’d spent the entire night secluded in the small library off the living room. Now she stood staring over the front lawn, taking in nothing and everything all at once as the rain fell softly around her.

A warm hand slid over her bare shoulder and squeezed. She knew instantly it was Connor, and she went still, dreading what he’d say or do. He surprised her.

“Come inside, Lyric,” he said gently. “It’s cold and you have a performance tonight. Have you slept at all?”

She shook her head mutely as he pulled her into his side and shielded her from the rain with his big body.

She wanted to say she was sorry but the words hung painfully in her throat. She wanted to tell him that she’d never felt this way about another man and that she was scared shitless. She wanted to turn into him and hold on for dear life. Take what he offered and never let go.

But the fear wouldn’t thaw. She was cold and frozen. Unable to move. Unable to reach out. And so she went quietly back inside and stood in front of the fireplace while he rubbed a towel through her hair.

Would he say something now? Would he ask her for explanations she couldn’t provide? Ask her to reveal things long hidden?

But all he did was wrap a robe around her and pull the ends snug so she’d be warm. He rubbed his hands up and down her shoulders several times and then said, “You have a few hours yet. You should try to sleep. I’ll wake you in time to get to the arena.”

She nodded and stood there a moment longer. She couldn’t meet his gaze because she knew he’d see too much. Then he leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead. She closed her eyes and tilted into his embrace, but he didn’t touch her. Didn’t hold her. Just one simple kiss and then he was gone.

She didn’t want to go back up to her bedroom. The fire crackled and sparked behind her and she turned to warm her hands. Warmth seeped into her bones and made her heavy with lethargy. She glanced over her shoulder to the couch. It was as good a place as any and she knew the security guys would be in and out, as would Connor and Kane, so she wouldn’t be alone.

With a sigh she stepped over and then crawled onto the couch. She turned to face the back and pulled her knees to her chest until she felt safe, warm and secure.

On the ride to Reliant Stadium, Lyric was tense and jittery. Connor rode in the back of the car while Kane remained up front. A car carrying the rest of her detail followed and another team had already gone ahead to set up for the show.

“Can you make sure that the girls got the tickets I arranged for them?” she asked anxiously.

Connor slid a hand over hers. “They got them. Don’t worry. They’re going to have a blast.”

She fell silent again and watched out the window as they approached the stadium. She wasn’t sure why she was so nervous. It was like any other show. She’d done it a million times. She wasn’t the type to suffer stage fright. Singing was what she loved. It brought her peace. It was the one thing she did for herself. That others liked it and paid for the privilege of hearing it was just added bonus.

The car rolled to a stop outside the entrance to the myriad of rooms on the lower level of the stadium. The area was roped off and security was heavy, but there was still a crowd of fans who screamed the moment Lyric stepped from the vehicle.

Despite Connor urging her forward, she paused and turned to wave. She smiled broadly, blew kisses and then allowed Connor to pull her inside the building.

Almost immediately her shoulders relaxed as she stepped back into her world. The hustle and bustle backstage was something she was familiar with and embraced. She was back in her element.

Connor stopped at her dressing room. Kane and four of his men stood to the side. She started to open her door but Connor put his hand on her wrist.

“Stay here while I check it out.”

She stepped back and Connor opened the door. To her surprise, R.J. and Trent were both sprawled on couches in the room. They both bolted up when Connor stepped into the room, but when she tried to follow, Kane stepped in front of her and blocked her entrance.

“You asked him for help,” Kane said in a low voice. “He’ll handle it.”

The sounds of R.J. and Trent arguing had her taking a step back. Kane moved with her, shielding her, careful to keep his body between her and the men at all times. Two of his men flanked her. One of them pulled out a handgun and stood alert while two others went into the room to give Connor help.

“Send her a bill,” she heard Connor say. “Or don’t. Either way your employment has been terminated. You’ll be escorted from the premises, and if you step foot on or around her tour again, I’ll have you arrested.”

Her eyes widened when a thump sounded. And then a crash. Then she heard what sounded like something or someone hitting the wall.

She took a step forward but Kane pressed in close and maneuvered her farther away until she was against the far wall in the hall. She was surrounded by male bodies, and it drove her crazy that she couldn’t see what was going on.

A few moments later, Kane stepped back just in time for her to see R.J. and Trent being manhandled down the hall by Kane’s men. Blood smeared Trent’s nose and R.J. was sporting a swollen eye.

“Oh my God, Connor!” she exclaimed as she rushed into the room.

He turned and she saw he was fine. In fact, he looked cool and calm, like he hadn’t just taken on men larger than himself. Her only sign that he had in fact mixed it up with them was the curling and uncurling of his hand. The knuckles looked bruised and there was a smear of blood over the top of his hand.

“Are you okay?” she asked anxiously as she reached for his hand.

He cracked a smile. “I think your boyfriends fared the worst.”

She scowled. “They aren’t my boyfriends.”

“You don’t have to worry about them anymore. I told them if they had anything to say to you at all, to contact your label and they’d provide the name of your new manager whenever you get around to hiring one.”

“Thank you,” she murmured. “I suppose that was cowardly of me but I didn’t want to have a confrontation with them.”

“Lyric?”

She turned to see Kane holding a piece of paper in his hand. His face was dark with a frown as he concentrated on the note. Then he turned and stared at Connor.

“I think you need to go after those two and bring them back. This was hanging on her mirror.”

He held out the note and Connor yanked it from him before Lyric could reach for it.

“Son of a bitch,” Connor muttered. “I knew it was them. Those bastards.”

“Connor, what does it say?”

He held it out to her. She took it and glanced down at the colored cutout letters in varying fonts and sizes.

You won’t be safe.

Her brows came together and unease skittered down her spine.

“Run them down,” Connor ordered Kane. “Detain them and I’ll call the cops. We’ll turn the matter over to them. Our priority is Lyric’s safety.”

Kane nodded, then motioned to his men. They disappeared from the room a few moments later, leaving Connor and Lyric alone.

“I’ll leave you to dress. Your people should be here any moment now to help you get ready.”

“Don’t go,” she said, reaching for his arm. “I mean, it’ll be boring. They’ll do my hair and makeup and arrange my clothing, but it won’t take long. There aren’t any wardrobe changes for tonight’s show. It’s really like a miniconcert. Just eight songs total.”

A knock sounded at the door, interrupting them. “I’ll get that,” he said as he turned to open it.

Moments later, the room was filled with people. Chatter rose. Lyric was poked, prodded and made up until she barely recognized the woman staring back at her. For several days she’d lived a normal existence. No makeup. No outrageous clothes. Would Connor be repelled by the role Lyric played?

She glanced into the mirror to see him leaning against the back of the couch, hands shoved into his pockets as he watched her stylist put the finishing touches on her makeup.

Lyric couldn’t make out the expression on his face. She had no idea what he was thinking.

“You look great, Lyric,” the stylist said with a bright smile.

“Thank you, Stacy. You did a great job.”

Another knock sounded and Kane stuck his head in. “Five minutes, Lyric. They need you outside.”

Lyric rose, smoothed her tight jeans down her body and checked her appearance. It was a good costume choice for the rodeo. Though she didn’t sing country music, her outfit would appeal to the more conservative types, and what was the saying? When in Rome?

She pulled on her boots, slapped the sassy straw cowboy hat over her hair and grinned at Connor. “Showtime.”

Connor saw the light reenter Lyric’s eyes. Her confidence was back in spades and he was so relieved he nearly keeled over. She strutted into the hallway where he and Kane’s men surrounded her. Kane led the way and they stopped at a black Ford jacked-up pickup that bore the performers to the stage in the middle of the dirt-packed rodeo arena.

The lights were dimmed and the crowd buzzed with excitement.

Connor helped Lyric inside, then crawled in behind her. Kane’s men started ahead of the truck, even though the arena had security positioned at intervals around the stage.

Kane’s men positioned themselves between the area where the fans who had chute seats were allowed from the stands close to the stage and the stage itself.

It seemed the entire stadium was electrically charged and waiting for Lyric to arrive.

With a roar, the truck lurched forward and drove toward the stage just as it lit up and the stadium came alive with laser lights. The huge LCD screen that wrapped the back of the stage flashed Lyric’s sassy face and smile. The crowd went wild as she stepped from the truck and ran up the ramp to the stage.

Lyric yelled a greeting to the Houston fans and immediately launched into one of her upbeat songs.

The stands thumped and rocked along with her. Cameras flashed a repeating staccato of light, peppered throughout the thousands of people gathered for the rodeo.

Connor gained a new appreciation of what it took to get out and perform the way she did. She threw herself into it. She held nothing back. It was loud. It was raucous, and the fans loved every second of it.

She was sassy, cute, seductive and endearing. Her fans loved her and she clearly loved them.

At one point during the show, a mechanical bull rose from underneath the stage through an opening in the floor and Lyric climbed on and proceeded to ride like a champ. She waved and rotated and threw her hat into the crowd of fans assembled near the stage.

The bull sped up and she was tossed several feet into the air. His heart pumped into his throat and he was about to leap onto the stage to see about her when she popped up, laughing uproariously.

Then she slowed things down and sang the ballad that Connor had liked so much. “Going Home.” The crowd sang and swayed with her, and when she finished, the lights dimmed for a moment and then blazed back on as she led into her last song choice of the evening.

The show had lasted only a little more than an hour, but sweat gleamed on her face. Her hair was damp and her shirt clung to her like a second skin.

But she wore a smile and waved enthusiastically as she headed down the ramp toward the truck. Connor and Kane met her at the bottom, ushered her into the back, and she stood, holding on to the roll bars as they drove across the dirt. They circled once while she waved to the cheering crowd and then they disappeared behind the gate to the backstage area once more.

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