“Are they going to be my security team?” she asked sweetly.
“Their women would chew you up and spit you out,” Connor said dryly as he stood.
She raised an eyebrow. “Then why are they all here?”
“To see me suffer.”
Color rose in her cheeks. She couldn’t think of a single comeback for that one. She was used to being a veritable circus act. It shouldn’t surprise her that Connor’s coworkers had come to see the train wreck.
She took a seat at the very end of the table so she’d be as far from the others as possible. To her surprise, Connor moved to the chair next to her.
He was way too close and she fidgeted nervously in her seat. He glanced her way once and lifted a brow. Damn, but the man was sexy in a disdainful, you-annoy-me kind of way. She had to be a masochist. It was the only explanation for her bizarre attraction to him. Rejection wasn’t her thing. Neither was hooking up with someone who looked at her like he would dirt on his shoe.
But the truth was, she’d thought a lot about that kiss. It had kept her up the previous night—that and the fact that she was alone, and she hated being alone.
There was some serious chemistry between her and Connor
Malone, and it was a pity, because they could barely stand the sight of each other. He was probably the only man on earth who’d turn her down flat anyway.
“Would you care to offer your opinion, Ms. Jones?” Connor asked dryly.
She blinked and realized that the entire table was looking at her, obviously waiting for her response. She faked a yawn, adopted a bored look and studied her nails.
“Sorry, I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
Connor’s eyes narrowed and she gazed at him with wide eyes, a look she knew to be successful on most men. But then, Connor wasn’t most men. He didn’t look impressed even if the other men at the table looked a little gobsmacked.
“If you’re through wasting our time,” Connor began.
“I’m paying for your time, so it’s mine to do with what I want,” she drawled.
Connor stood and looked down the table at the others. “Would you all excuse us? I believe Ms. Jones and I have things we need to discuss. Privately.”
“The hell—”
The look he gave her stopped the protest before it could be fully launched. For the first time, she felt herself backing down. The man made her nervous, and that pissed her off. Didn’t just piss her off. It made her furious.
When everyone had left, Connor turned and planted his palms on the table in front of her. “Let me get something straight. You didn’t hire me. You can’t fire me. You have nothing I want or need. I don’t give a shit if you like me. I don’t particularly like you. It’s my job to keep you safe, and I’m going to do just that. Which means you’re going to listen to everything I tell you.”
How utterly ridiculous that she flinched when he’d baldly said he didn’t like her. Like that should come as a surprise? Nobody liked her. People tolerated her. They used her. But they didn’t like her. Why should Connor Malone be any different? Why did she want him to be?
“What your idiot of a record label executive hasn’t told you is that they’ve been monitoring threats over your last five shows. Some asshole is leaving you notes in places he shouldn’t have access to.”
Lyric curled her fingers into fists and stared up at Connor. “What are you talking about?”
“Just what I said. They’ve found notes on your bus, in your dressing room, on your guitar case. Whoever’s doing it is getting way too close to you.”
She forced her hands to relax and then wiped her palms down the soft suede of her skirt. “Why didn’t they tell me?”
“They didn’t trust you not to do something stupid.”
She blew out her breath in frustration. “Nice.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Do they have reason to believe any other way?”
“Whether or not they thought they knew how I’d react, I had a right to know.”
Connor nodded. “On that point we agree, which is why I’m telling you now. Maybe now you’ll see that this isn’t some fucking game. This is your life, and it’s my job to make sure you stay alive. Now, are you going to help me or are you going to do everything you can to make my job harder?”
Slowly she shook her head.
“Which is it?”
“I’ll . . .” She swallowed and then turned her gaze up to meet his once more. “I’ll cooperate. I’ll try.”
He folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the edge of the table. “You’ll do more than try.”
She held her hands up in surrender. “Whatever. You’re the boss.”
He smiled and it made him look so arrogant she was tempted to haul him down and kiss him senseless again.
“Glad you recognize that fact. We’ll get along just fine as long as you remember that little tidbit.”
Slowly she got to her feet. “Are we finished now?”
He nodded.
She reached into her bag for her keys and walked toward the door, unsure of what the hell had just happened. She was a little shell-shocked and off balance. She needed a little time to process the storm that was Connor Malone.
Connor fell into step behind her but she paid him little attention. She walked into the reception area where the others were all standing around talking. She didn’t miss the way conversation stopped or the way they all stared at her as she went by.
“Bye, Ms. Jones. It was nice meeting you,” Faith called.
Lyric looked up and smiled, because really, not smiling at the really nice blond woman was like kicking a puppy. You just didn’t do it. And the truth was, there was something about Faith that just made a person a little warm on the inside.
Clearly Lyric needed a drink to get over that little burst of poetry. She could get drunk and write a song about sunshine and dedicate it to Faith.
She bit her lip to call back the laughter and offered a wave to everyone as she left the building.
Ah, freedom. Not that she liked being alone, but somehow, right now it was preferable to being cooped up in a room full of people who made her feel vastly inferior. She was the famous superstar, and yet a group of good ole boys and Miss Sunshine made her feel not good enough.
It wasn’t until she reached her car that she realized Connor had followed her out. She frowned as she unlocked her doors. He was taking his job a little too seriously for her liking.
Determined to ignore him, she slid into the driver’s seat just as he opened the passenger door and got in beside her.
She paused after she put the key in the ignition and looked questioningly at him. “What are you doing?”
He looked at her like she was a moron for asking the obvious. “I believe we’ve been over this. You’re in danger. I’ve been hired to keep you safe. Therefore, for the next two weeks, where you go, I go.”
Her mouth gaped open. “Are you serious?”
He gazed coolly at her. “Does it look like I’m joking?”
“But I’m just going back to my hotel.”
“Hope you have a double, because I’m not sleeping on the floor.”
CHAPTER 5
Lyric flexed her hands as she navigated the busy streets back to her downtown hotel. Connor rode in silence next to her, his gaze fixed out of his window as if he found her company tedious.
She frowned. She did not want him in her hotel room. He wouldn’t fit! He was too big. Too overbearing. Maybe she could inquire about an adjoining room and he’d be satisfied with having access. Then if she forgot and locked the door, she could say oops and he wouldn’t be invading her space.
She hadn’t reserved a suite. Too much empty space with no people to fill it up and make her feel less lonely and . . . panicked. She’d taken a ridiculously small room and then filled it with all the stuff she’d brought with her because it had made her feel like she wasn’t alone.