“So, what’d you think?”
She jumped, grabbing the armrests of the movie theater–style chair. Her eyes popped open wide, and her belly did a triple flip when she found Syon watching her.
“Ah…” Her tongue suddenly felt like a wad of cotton in her mouth as she scrambled to stand up and turn around to face him. “It was fantastic…”
He grinned at her, a huge, arrogantly pleased expression that showed off his perfect teeth.
God, she wondered if he knew how to bite…
There was a curtain in the doorway that she’d never closed. Syon reached over and tugged it off the hook that held it back. The velvet shimmered as it swung down to give them privacy, adding a dose of intimacy that was spine tingling.
“Why did you do that?” she asked.
He shrugged, drawing her attention to the tightly corded muscles of his forearms. “I don’t want to get jumped.”
“Oh.” She took a quick look down at the fans still crowded into the seating below. Now that the house lights were on, she could see people sitting in the private boxes that lined the second and third stories of the arena. Syon was hanging back, staying behind the seats where there was still some shadow.
“Shouldn’t you be backstage somewhere…with those security guys?” Kate asked.
He bared his teeth at her. “Maybe in forty years. Their job is to protect the fans from me.”
“Yeah, I can see that side of your personality.” Hell, she could have sworn she could feel it.
“I earned it,” he answered with a confidence that was admirable.
He opened his arms. “Want to take a measurement? So you can make me a pair that fit…perfectly?”
“I get a hard-on when I play…”
“Oh…” Damn it. That was the third time she’d done nothing but answer in monosyllables.
She wasn’t sure it was healthy for her to be taking a good look at him, but her costumer’s eye switched on as she scanned his groin, tracing the bulge straining the leather.
Oh…yeah…serious package.
“It’s Giles’s account. I just stepped in because of the timing issue.” There. At last. A perfect, professional deflection.
Syon’s grin widened.
“Giles is in New York. You’re here. I can’t play ‘Insatiable Craving’ without this pair pinching.”
She had to swallow the lump forming in her throat. “Insatiable Craving” was one hot song.
And she looked back down to find the leather straining.
Kate’s breath froze for an instant as a bolt of excitement tore through her. “We’re not going there. I’m not measuring you.”
He looked down at her left hand and raised one of his perfectly groomed eyebrows. “Husband?”
“No,” she admitted. He was stripping away her defenses like a kid pulling the petals off a daisy.
His attention returned to her face. There was a flash of determination in his eyes that made her quiver.
“Boyfriend?” He stepped toward her. “Girlfriend?”
She shook her head, the feeling of being overly exposed trying to drown her. “Just not going there. I’m way past the age of impulsive behavior. Got a business to run.”
He bared his teeth again and moved in closer. “But it feels like it would be so much fun if you…came…”
She lifted her hands to ward him off and felt ridiculous, because what she really wanted to do was grab a handful of his chest hair. He smelled male, and some part of her was insanely turned-on by it. She was ready to claw him. His eyes were slightly dilated, like he was on the edge, and it excited her wildly.
Well, he was hard.
And she was wet.
“I have rules,” she sputtered. “You don’t look like the type who follows rules. So, good night. Nice to meet you and all. I doubt you’ll miss me. Giles is likely working up more wardrobe for you as we speak. You’re his premier account.”
She expected him to recoil from the mention of rules. Instead he crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head to one side. “Lay ’em on me.”
“Excuse me?” she asked.
He flashed a grin at her. “The rules. Let’s hear them.”
She was back to feeling like her personal space was being invaded. “I’m not interested in amusing you. I’m sure you won’t have to go far to find that sort of companionship though.”
“I won’t,” he confirmed, his tone deeper, serious. “And I’m standing here. You have discipline. So do I.”
Of course he did. Beneath the makeup and the lights, there had still been some serious music. No one got that good without self-control.
“Your rules, Kate.” She was pretty sure he wasn’t asking. There was a flicker in his eyes that looked a lot more like a demand.
Well, he’d asked for it. Part of her wanted to see what he did when she laid it down. Straight out. Her fingers were closed into fists with anticipation, her head spinning just a bit at the idea of someone like him being willing to please her.
“No married men, no rock stars or celebrities, no drugs, no kissing on the first date, and no men still living with their parents.”
She finished in a rush, feeling like she was trying to hold him off with a slingshot and a marshmallow instead of the well-thought-out rules she lived by. He was going to eat her ammo and lick his lips afterward.
“I rank below drugs?” he growled. “That’s harsh. I’ve been studying guitar since I was four.”
That was impressive. But she couldn’t say so, because then she’d be right back to thinking about getting her hands on him. He smelled hot and ultra-male.
“It’s just that I’ve done my share of movie costumes, and rock stars and celebrities, well, they don’t really”—she found herself searching for some way to put it that wouldn’t offend him—“do relationships.”
“I don’t do anything in half measures,” he assured her.
“You asked,” she said, trying to swallow her disappointment. Like there had been a chance in hell of them ever connecting beyond impulsive sex. “And now you know why I’m telling you to call Giles. It’s been great meeting you.”
“You haven’t given me a chance to meet your demands.” Syon chuckled softly, menacingly, and closed the last pace between them.
“You rejected them,” she said.
“Relationships require negotiation. I can’t change what I am, so number two needs to be struck from the list,” he said.
“Maybe I don’t negotiate.”
“Maybe you need incentive,” he offered in a raspy whisper.
They were toe to toe, the scent of his skin wrapping around her. He reached up and opened the clip she had holding her hair back. She heard it drop to the floor as he threaded his fingers through the strands, sending a torrent of sensation through her. It was bold and aggressive and presumptuous. She should have protested, but her eyes closed as waves of enjoyment rushed through her. All she wanted to do was arch and purr.
“You’re ginger.” He leaned over and buried his face in her hair. She heard him draw in a deep breath before exhaling next to her ear. “Spicy and sweet… I wanted to know what you tasted like the moment I saw you.”
“Really?”
He closed his hand in her hair, pulling it tight but stopping shy of hurting her. “Yeah…really.”
The hold sent her over the edge into some alternate dimension, where instinct ruled.
He hovered over her lips, almost touching them until she stretched toward him.
“Wait for it…” he growled softly, holding her back.
“Like hell.” She smoothed her hands back until she found the opening of his vest. He’d never closed more than a few buttons, just enough to cover his navel. She slid her hands inside, needing to touch his bare skin.
But she closed her fingers, trapping a handful of his chest hair.
He stiffened, surprised. His chest rumbled with something that sounded a lot like a growl.