American Diva (13 page)

Good God, she had much bigger things on her plate right now, like the tour, and her missing brother, and the
I’m going to kill you
note, of course, not to mention the awful review that she could not seem to get off her mind. There was no time for a lot of ridiculous
Jack
thinking. He was just a sexy guy, that was all, a sexy guy who somehow seemed to understand her better than anyone else on this tour, and it didn’t help that he went down on his haunches on the water’s edge and looked about as sexy as any man she had ever seen.

But then he ruined everything by asking, in that sultry, husky voice tinged with a slight drawl, “Why do you let him talk to you like that?”

“Oh, great,” she said irritably. “Just great. Now you’re going to critique my relationship. Let’s see, what else can I add to this day? What about bird flu? I haven’t had bird flu. Maybe I should just heap that right on top.”

He laughed and put his hand on Bruno’s head when the dog nuzzled him. “I’m not critiquing anything. I just wonder how this ever got twisted around to where the dude thinks he is the star instead of you.”

“He doesn’t think he is the star,” she said curtly. “He knows I am, but he . . .” Her voice trailed off as she struggled to think of the words that would explain Lucas. “I don’t even know why I am having this conversation,” she said irritably. “You wouldn’t understand it anyway.”

Instead of being insulted, Jack smiled. “Try me.”

“Suit yourself. But I’m here if you ever want to talk.” He stood up, folded his arms over his chest, and smiled so warmly that Audrey felt that melting thing again. “So are you going to walk? There is a lagoon just down the way. Your furry little rat friend can run around a little and you can count the ducks.”

“
Ducks?
” As if ducks would somehow make her feel better. It was insane—she suddenly had the strong urge to explain everything to Jack. “You don’t know where I came from, Jack,” she blurted, drawing his attention back to her. “Just two years ago I was packing Lucas’s boxers for a gig in Luckenbach, of all places, and now I am playing to sold-out audiences. Do you realize there were twelve thousand people in that arena last night? Twelve thousand! I owe that all to Lucas—if it wasn’t for him, I would not be here today. So just cut him a little slack, will you?”

“I am sure he’s been a big help,” Jack admitted. “But if you think for one minute that you were playing to twelve thousand people last night for any other reason than your talent, he’s really done a number on you.”

Audrey snorted. “And now you’re an expert on how a pop star hits it big. Well, news flash—I wasn’t voted to be a pop star on
American Idol
. It took a lot of work and a lot of people for me to get where I am today.”

“I’m no expert, but I’m not deaf, and I know talent when I hear it. This tour is about
your
talent. You’re on tour because of your
talent
and not because Bonner had a great idea once. Believe me, if you had stuck with the music you used to play, you would still be playing to an audience this size. It might have taken you a little longer to get here, but you would have made it.”

“The music I
used
to play?” she said, turning to face him fully. “And how would you know about that?”

Something changed in his expression that gave Audrey a shiver. “I know,” he said, his gaze sliding over her body like silk. “You aren’t the only one from Texas here. It so happens I caught a couple of your shows in Austin a few years ago.”

“You’re kidding,” Audrey said flatly.

He lifted his gaze. “Swear to God I did.”

“
Really?
” she demanded, trying to read him.

He leaned forward, so that they were almost nose to nose. “
Really.
”

He’d
heard
her? He’d heard the music she loved? There was an obvious question, one she absolutely did not want to ask because she did not care what his opinion was, but somehow, her mouth got ahead of her brain and she said, “So . . . what did you think?”

“What did I think?” His gaze dipped to her lips. “I
loved
it. I loved
you
.”

She smiled with unabashed pleasure. “You did?”

“I thought you were the best sound in Austin.”

The best sound in Austin
. There was a time when that was all she aspired to. He’d known about her in Austin, and then. . . . “Wait, wait,” she said, shaking her head. “Wait just a minute. If you had heard me in Austin, then what was that whole
never heard of you
thing in Costa Rica?”

With a chuckle, Jack carelessly brushed a curl of her hair from her cheek. “Well, now, sweetheart, if you hadn’t come off like such a diva that night, I wouldn’t have felt so compelled to turn that ego of yours down a notch.”

“
Diva!
” Audrey insisted angrily. “I don’t have an ego!”

“Oh no? You seem to have a pretty healthy one to me.”

“How would you know?”

He cocked a dubious brow. “Well, for starters, you bite a lot of heads off around you. You’re not very polite, as we have discussed.”

Was that true? Did they
all
think she was a diva? But she wasn’t, not even close! She was really very nice—Wait. What was she doing? “Oh my
God
,” Audrey said, and with one arm, shoved him aside as she began marching down the path again. “I am not going to try and explain myself to you!” she shouted over her shoulder.

“Fine. But don’t go far—we didn’t budget for me to follow you around like your dog when you’re having a tantrum.”

“I’m not having a tantrum! I just want some time alone without you telling me what a diva I am, or without anyone threatening me or . . . or whatever!” she exclaimed, her hands wildly punctuating the air around her. “Is that asking too much? Is a little alone time asking too much?”

“Of course not,” he said congenially. “This is your show. If you want some time alone, you need only ask for it. You don’t have to stomp off like a PMS-ing fourteen-year-old when you don’t instantly get your way. Just let me know when you want me to arrange it.”

She seethed at his insolence. “All right. I am letting you know that I want you to
arrange
it, Rambo. I want you to arrange it
right now
.”

He grinned in that sexy, lopsided way he had of smiling and Audrey suddenly needed to be away from him and those blue eyes. She turned and ran.

She knew how stupid and immature she must look, and okay, probably a little diva-ish. But at least she felt in control of whatever it was that was happening inside her.

When she had put sufficient distance between them and was nearing the walk down to the lagoon, she whipped her head around to see where Rambo was—right behind her, of course—and missed the jogger who was running up the incline from the lagoon altogether. Their shoulders collided, and it startled Audrey so badly that she shrieked.

“
Sorry
,” the man said breathlessly as he ran by.

In that split moment of the collision, Audrey feared the worst—she feared the freak had found her and her heart stopped. She gasped, clamped a hand over her heart as the man ran by; at almost the same moment, Jack grabbed her, clamping an arm securely around her shoulders. “See? Yet another reason not to stomp off in anger—you don’t watch where you are going,” he said soothingly.

He was making light of it, but he knew what she’d thought—she could hear it in his deep voice, which wafted over her like a protective blanket, and Audrey lost it. Her frayed nerves and the tangled emotions Jack evoked in her—the small truths he uttered seemed to unravel her perceptions of reality. She had no idea how he did it, but she somehow turned into him and blindly managed to put her hands on his face.

She kissed him.

But Jack suddenly grabbed her arms and held her away from him. “
Don’t
,” he said, his blue eyes full of warning. “Don’t do that. Because if you do it again, I am going to give it right back and a whole lot more. Do you understand me?”

She didn’t speak, just panted as she gazed at his lips.

His eyes narrowed. “I mean it, Audrey. Don’t start something you can’t or won’t finish.”

She still didn’t know how it happened—whether she grabbed him or he grabbed her—but she was kissing him, again, and it was no small kiss. She was devouring him, trying to eat him up, swallow him whole. It was a monumental moment, a jarring wake-up call to all her senses, and suddenly her entire body felt more alive than she’d felt in weeks, months, maybe even years. Desire raged through her like a wildfire, spreading quickly and with deadly consequences. Every protest, every reason her mind conjured up to stop her, Audrey tossed aside like so many bits of bread for the ducks.

Jack responded by twirling her around and pushing her up against the trunk of a tree. His lips began to press more urgently against hers; his hands swept down her arms, to her waist, and then up again, to either side of her breasts. She plunged her tongue wildly into his mouth, relishing his guttural moans of approval, and the feel of him pressed hard against her.

The fingers of one hand splayed against her breast while the other swept around to her back, down to her hip, pressing her against him, against the hard ridge of his arousal.

Audrey pushed her hands through his hair, caressed his ears and the breadth of his shoulders. She moved seductively against him. Her blood was pounding in her veins; her pulse was racing and making her breathless. She had never felt such massive, consuming desire, had never wanted so badly to throw a man to the ground and ride him.

It was, thank God, the sound of an approaching jogger, the sound of hard breathing that was not hers or Jack’s, that brought her to her senses. It took all of her willpower to turn her mouth from his, to push against his chest and her unconscionable lapse of judgment.

But he still had his arm around her and a lustful look in his eye. He discreetly caressed the peak of her breast with the palm of his hand.

“
Stop
,” she whispered, and closed her eyes. “We have to
stop
. I’m sorry. I . . . this is insanity.”

“Is it?”

“Yes! I don’t
want
. . . I mean, this isn’t what you think.”

He leaned in, trapping her with his arms and his eyes against that tree. “I think it’s
exactly
what I think,” he said huskily, and nipped at her lips.

“What?”

“I think you need to be with a man, Audrey. I think you need it worse than any woman I have ever met. You don’t need pills, sweetheart, you need—”

“
No!
” she exclaimed, and shoved hard against him.

His arms fell away. His eyes roamed over her face, and he pushed a curl behind her ear, then reluctantly dropped his hands altogether. “I will tell you this once,” he said, shoving his hands in his pocket. “Don’t. Do. That.
Again
.”

“No, of course not,” she said weakly, and turned away from him, pressing a hand to her forehead, where she felt a sudden and searing pain. “I don’t know what came over me,” she muttered, playing back in her mind how she had practically attacked him, almost thrown him to the ground and ripped off his clothes in a public park in Omaha. What was she thinking? “I just
lost
it,” she said. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye.

Jack was watching her closely, his expression still hungry, his body still hard.

“Look,” she said, stepping away from him and skittishly pushing a hand through her hair, “I apologize. That . . . that
definitely
will not happen again,” she said, pointing to the space where they had just been standing. “I mean, I’m not
that
whacked out.”

A wry smile tipped the corner of Jack’s mouth.

“Okay, wait. I obviously don’t mean that like it sounded,” she said instantly. “But I will never do that again. I can’t believe I just did that. I mean, you’re really not—”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” he said, and turned around, whistling for Bruno. The dog instantly came running from a stand of bushes. “We need to get back . . . unless you want more time to look at the ducks.”

“Ducks?” She snorted and shook her head. “No. No, I really need to get back.” She moved forward, anxious to get back, to put some distance between her and Jack. When she paused and looked over her shoulder, he was walking behind her, holding Bruno like a football again. “I . . . that really was just a reaction to stress,” she said, feeling a desperation to explain. Or perhaps to convince herself—she wasn’t certain. “It didn’t mean anything. I don’t want you to think—”

“Audrey,” he said, looking ahead on the path. “You don’t need to say more. I get it. Let’s go.”

“Right,” she said, and began to walk, head down, her heart spinning in her chest.

Critic Picks for the Week

(
Minneapolis Star Tribune
) Whether or not you buy into Audrey LaRue as the next great American pop star—particularly without benefit of
American Idol
to propel her into that superstardom—it’s hard not to get caught up in the buzz over her first national tour. The American Diva puts on a show with everything the public wants: pyrotechnics, sensual dancing, and the chops that have the tone of greatness behind them. Don’t miss this show—it’s guaranteed to rock you. (7:30 p.m. Fri. $33-$58. Northrop Auditorium, University of Minnesota)

 

 

 

BLOGGING CRITICS Your Source for All Music

 

CD Review: Audrey LaRue—
Frantic
Frantic
, Audrey LaRue’s third pop album, made its debut in July and had the firepower to go platinum in the first two weeks. But it is a jumbled bag of emotions delivered in a confusing mix of rock and pop that leaves the listener wondering if LaRue knows what she’s singing. “Take Me” is either LaRue’s attempt to sing a pleading balled or to head bang her way through a successful tour. She alternately screeches her firepower and then breathlessly falls off in “Frantic” and “On the Wall.” She does demonstrate a depth of talent in the more sultry offerings of “Sweet Dreams” and “Without You,” whose lyrics are contemplative and show a side to LaRue’s talent not likely to be seen on tour, where sexy pop and dance are showcased. When LaRue sings a ballad, one can believe she has loved deeply and lost even deeper. But this album of pop lacks the maturity of a seasoned songwriter and performer—there is nothing to distinguish her songs from other pop artists who populate the charts, with the exception of perhaps LaRue’s age, which, at 28, is five to seven years older than most of her competition.