Again, it was different from her hotel room. Not to say her accommodation wasn’t opulent. It was. Just not to the same degree as this.
For the umpteenth time she found herself shaking her head, stunned she stood in Zachary’s suite, stunned she had become—at least for now—a part of his life.
The band wasn’t performing on the Gold Coast, just staying in the hotel here. Tomorrow afternoon they’d be driven through to Brisbane, where they’d hold their fourth Aussie concert at the Suncorp Stadium. Just one show there, then off to Adelaide the next day.
Eve was quickly learning what life on the road was all about. Which meant she was quickly starting to appreciate the offerings of a luxury hotel. Traveling every two or three days could become exhausting very quickly.
But she wasn’t complaining. Not when she stood in Zachary’s room with him.
After the drama of the morning, the day had passed uneventfully. She and Zachary had ordered breakfast in her room and fed each other pieces of fruit and warm pastries while sitting naked on her bed.
She didn’t even contemplate going out. The flurry of the press around her when she’d arrived back in Australia eleven years ago had been enough media attention to last a lifetime.
The trip to the airport had been easy enough. She’d been ushered into the hotel car park by Jake. He’d turned out to be a giant of a man who spoke little, interfered only when necessary and did things his way.
Zachary grinned at her when she was finally nestled into his side in the back of a plush Mercedes. “You’ll get used to it,” he promised. “By this time tomorrow you won’t even notice you have a bodyguard.”
Eve had turned to peer out the back window of the Merc as they’d driven off. Sure enough, a horde of photographers, reporters and press vans were gathered across the road from the hotel entrance, and a helicopter circled overhead. She breathed a sigh of relief when they turned the corner and she lost sight of the chaos—although the constant chop, chop, chop of the helicopter blades filtered through the air for a few more blocks.
She’d sat beside Zachary on the plane too, a private jet which she learned was being used to fly only the band members and their significant others from city to city while in Australia. Zachary introduced her to Seth and Nathan, to Sophie as well, and to the other three other band members—Bill, who played the synthesizer, Arnie on saxophone and Tim, Speed’s bass guitarist.
Yep, Luke had given them all a cursory introduction back in Sydney, but it hadn’t been personal, like today.
During the flight, Delilah and Devine chatted with her at length, insisting Sophie and Eve come up to Devine’s room later so they could introduce Sophie to the delights of Eve’s makeup case and skills. They’d agreed to meet at six thirty, before dinner, which had been scheduled in the hotel’s private dining room.
What amazed Eve was how normal all these people were. Apart from Sophie, who’d told her she’d just quit her job as a cleaner to join Nathan on tour, none of them lived a life at all similar to Eve’s. They lived in the world of superstardom. Yet they were all so nice.
Seth sat beside Luke, a faraway look in his blue eyes, as if he were lost to a wonderful dream. Luke, his hands now bandaged, worked on some papers, every now and again pausing to glance at Seth.
Nathan did not take his gaze off Sophie the entire time.
Eve watched him for a while. He was ridiculously good-looking, with flawless, model-like features. Perfectly beautiful, his eyes were similar to Zachary’s. Brown, with hints of green and black woven through them. Interesting eyes. Stunning eyes.
The Paces had a similar look about them. One glance would tell a stranger they were brothers. They were all gorgeous, no two ways about it. However, Seth, with his blue eyes, was smaller than the older two. A little more feminine even, although his lean strength and unshaven cheeks made him all man. And while Nathan had that picture-perfect look going for him, Zachary was broader and damn, he smoldered sexuality. It radiated off him in waves.
She’d noticed hotel and airport staff alike had similar reactions to the three brothers. They smiled at Seth, instantly beguiled by his dreaminess. They stared, entranced, at Nathan, and became flustered around Zachary. More than one person had tugged at the collar of their shirts around him, as if they wanted nothing more than to strip those shirts off.
Oh, yeah, Eve understood. She’d experienced just that. And then had stripped off her shirt, exposing her scars and her heart.
She turned to look at him now, leaning over the set of drums that stood in the foyer of the suite, adjusting something.
How easy it would be to fall in love with him. To just hand him her heart, knowing she’d never be able to take it back. How careful would she have to be to ensure she didn’t?
She already suspected it was too late to take those precautions. Which made her dumb as shit, because she could never have him in the long term. While it was fine to live in the here and now, to enjoy the time they had together, Zachary’s future belonged to another. And even if it didn’t, there was no way he would ever give his heart to a woman whose face had been permanently scarred by an exploding window while she was on holiday.
Zachary sat on his throne, sticks in hand, and tapped out a tune on his drums.
Eve froze.
He drummed a little more energetically.
Her heart began to pound.
Zachary closed his eyes and seemed to merge with his drums. He rapped with fluid movements, his muscles flexing in time with his beat, his actions so sure, so sexy it was like he’d been born playing drums. As if the instruments were a natural extension of the man.
The beat became a song, one she recognized. He played the underlying cadence of “Thunder ’n Rain”.
He was brilliant. Enthralling. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. She was trapped in the rhythm of his drums, trapped in the incredible music he made.
The tempo vibrated through the rooms, echoed across the floors and reverberated up her legs, down her spine.
This wasn’t Zachary. This was Jonah, master musician and professional percussionist. And she had the pleasure of watching him play in a private performance.
Weak-kneed, Eve pressed herself against the archway to the foyer, listening to him, watching him and throbbing inside. His music was sheer magic, his appearance breathtaking. She ached inside, touched by something unfathomable as he performed. He was masterful, brilliant, and she was overwhelmed by her conflicting emotions.
She could spend the rest of her life standing here, content to watch him perform. At the same time she knew this would never be enough for her. Because now that she’d experienced his music in person, she wanted more from Zachary.
She wanted everything. His music, his tempo, his dedication… His heart. She wanted him with a compulsion that shook her to the core.
Her heart pounded so hard it took a few seconds to realize it was the only beat she now heard. Zachary sat on his throne, drumsticks in hand, staring at her.
“Th-that was stunning.” Words could never adequately describe how his playing affected her.
He shrugged. “Just messing around.” His words were light, his eyes were not. They were heavy-lidded and dark, and his gaze was hungry.
“Feel free to continue messing around. Don’t stop for me.”
He turned his attention back to playing and rapped on a drum again, just once. “Can’t do it, Tiny.”
“Can’t do what?”
“Play when you’re looking at me like that.”
She couldn’t help it, couldn’t not look at him like she was. She closed her eyes. “That better?”
“No. I have a massive erection, and playing my drums is not going to help me lose it.”