Eve shoved a hand through her wild hair. A knot of panic and unease built in her belly.
“Bree, take this one step at a time and tell me what you’re talking about. In detail.”
The air was perfumed with roses, but their sweet scent did nothing to settle her.
Roses. From Jonah. No…from Zachary. Her heart lurched.
“Okay, so I’m fast asleep, it’s still too early to wake Hannah, and Anthony walks in, newspaper in hand, and shakes me awake, right? ‘You’re gonna wanna see this, Bree,’ he says to me. ‘See what?’ I ask. His answer? ‘Your sister, getting hot and heavy with the drummer from Speed—for all the world to see’.” Bree stopped and took a breath. “And seriously, Evie, there you were. On page one and three of the Courier!”
Eve’s stomach sank. Shit. The pictures. The flashes going off. Hundreds of them. She’d forgotten about them in the aftermath of Zachary’s kiss. What with her vision and the talking and Zachary making love to her, she hadn’t even given the photos another thought.
Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Jonah had kissed her at the after party in a room crammed full of people, for all and sundry to see—and photograph.
Damn it. Maybe she should have poked Zachary in the eye after all.
Both eyes.
The last thing she wanted or needed was to be in the public eye again. Eve’s specialization was backstage theatrics, in masking the real person, not displaying herself to the whole world.
“S-so it’s in the Courier Mail?” she asked shakily.
“Uh-huh. But…that’s not all. After looking at the articles, I grabbed my iPad and searched news.com.au, and sheesh, Evie, you should see the headlines there. International rock stars Speeding through our Aussie women.”
Eve dropped her head in her hands with a loud groan.
“So it’s true? You really did kiss Jonah Speed?”
Kiss, fuck, make love to… Yeah, it was all true. Not that she said any of that out loud. “You’ve seen the pictures, Bree. You tell me.”
“Uh…”
“Uh…?”
“Not just pictures.”
“What?”
“There’s a video too. That’s how I knew for sure it was you. Someone caught the two of you in a full-on lip lock. Mouths, lips, tongues, hands tangled in hair, the whole caboodle. And after, when Jonah breaks the kiss, there’s a full frontal, of you, looking up at him.”
“Shit.” It was nothing but a whisper.
“It’s not all bad, Evie. You look stunning. I mean seriously gorgeous kind of stunning.”
Eve snorted her disbelief. If anyone knew exactly how Eve looked it was her sister. Not that Bree thought Eve was ugly. Not by a long shot. But she did see the scars for what they were: a permanent reminder of a terrible tragedy.
Although she didn’t agree with Eve, Bree had always understood her reluctance to show her real face in public. As a result, it was Bree who’d persuaded her to explore her talents with a makeup brush, who’d encourage her to experiment with different brands, colors and techniques until finally Eve had felt confident enough to be seen in public.
“Jonah also looks hot,” Bree went on, ignoring the derisive snort. “Seriously, fire-raging, inferno-burning hot. And the look’s not because he’s the hottest man on earth—which is an undisputed fact, by the way. It’s because he’s looking at you as though he’d like to eat you for freaking breakfast. His lips are swollen and pouty, his cheeks are flushed, his eyes heavy-lidded. Jeez, Eve, he looks like you’ve just given him a BJ.”
“Bree!”
“Did you?”
“Did I what?”
“Give him a BJ?”
“At a freaking after party? In front of all those people? Are you nuts?”
“Not at the party. He hauled you away from there. Ran with you. Anything could have happened then. Anything. Including a BJ.”
“Jeez, Bree. For heaven’s sake, think logically about this. I didn’t give him a BJ.” She bit her lip. At least that she could say with all honesty. Because whatever else had happened last night, the one thing that hadn’t was a blowjob.
Bree clicked her tongue. “Well, why not? Seriously, from the look on his face you could have given him anything. Anything at all, and he would have grabbed it gratefully. What stopped you?”
Eve sighed. Nothing. But she wasn’t ready to share those details yet. Not even with her sister, with whom she shared everything. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“When have I ever not believed you?”
She closed her eyes and lay back down on her pillow. “He held my hand, Bree. Took it in his as he raced us down the passageway.”
“What?”
“Yep. I made it about thirty meters before the vision hit.”
“Oh, shit.” Bree’s entire attitude changed. “Evie, I’m so sorry.”
Eve didn’t respond.
“Was it bad? A big one? Or just a passing flicker of conversation?”
“It was big, Bree. Huge. I got a huge chunk of his past. Something I never should have been privy to.”
Her sister’s sharp intake of breath told Eve she understood. “How did he take it?”
“You know, he was super nice about it. Understanding too. He carried me back to his suite and took care of me while the dizziness passed.”
And my oh my, how he’d taken care of her. He’d taken care of every single inch of her. Several times.
“He sounds like a nice guy.”
“He is. Really, really nice. Like nothing I’d ever imagined a rock star to be.” But then she’d had no idea how she’d imagined a rock star to be. Aloof, remote, arrogant. Or maybe overly confident and very sure of his abilities to seduce women.
Because, face it. Jonah Speed need only breathe and every woman in the room was instantly seduced.
“Bree?”
“Yeah?”
“He gave me flowers.” She melted at the memory.
“After your vision?”
“Before. After the concert last night.”
“I assume you’d met him before then? In Sydney?”
“Nope. I hadn’t. Then last night he just walked up to me and gave me two roses he’d picked up onstage.” Once again she struck by the craziness of his actions. Why on earth had he homed in on her? Been attracted to her? Her, of all people?
Bree squealed.
Eve quickly filled her in on the dead-and-fresh-rose saga.
“Oh, my God.” Bree’s voice was full of wonder. “Evie, is Jonah Speed falling for you?” Then she coughed. “Or…is he just trying to get my little sister into bed?”
Eve opened her mouth to answer and realized she didn’t know how.
There was no way on earth Jonah—Zachary—could be falling for her. First off, he was Jonah Speed, and world-famous rock stars—world-famous anyones for that matter—just didn’t fall for Eve Andrews.
And even if he did like her, and Eve got a very strong impression that he did, a lot, he still had his red-haired woman to look forward to.
Which logically meant that Zachary only liked Eve enough to get her into bed. And how bad a thing could that be, since Eve liked Zachary more than enough to climb into bed with him?
A mutual “like session”. That’s what she and Zachary had going on. With a ridiculously hot flare of attraction thrown into the pot. And some fantastic sex. Like off-the-charts fantastic sex.
“Can I just say I don’t know and leave it at that for now, Bree?”