ANOTHER SUNNY DAY (16 page)

"Yeah, all it took was one compliment and peeling six hundred thousand potatoes," she joked, addi
ng a dramatic moan for effect.

"That should do it, all right," Tyler agreed, looking down on her fondly. "You've got ever
yone eating out of your hand."

"And you complained about paper plates!" she shot back, her eyes dancing in the firelight as they approached the
chuckwagon.

As expected, they had barely filled their plates and sat down at one of the folding tables when people started sidling up to Sarah. It was a replay of what had happened earlier in the week, and she took it all in stride. Her food got cold, and still there was one more CD to autograph or one more picture to sign. The night before, when they were in town, several of the original riders had purchased fan magazines that had
Sunny's face plastered from cover to cover. Sarah didn't take the time to read the articles, which appeared to contain the usual speculations about Sunny's latest conquest. She played her role perfectly, coquettishly refusing to name any names or admit to any dalliances but tossing out enough non-information to keep everyone guessing.

Suddenly someone thrust a magazine in front of her face with a particularly unflattering picture of Sunny leaning heavily against an unidentified man, as if she were either very drunk or very sick. The headlines jumped out at Sarah, causing her stomach to tighten in fear as she quickly read, "
TOO MUCH BOOZE AND TOO LITTLE TALENT PUSH SUNNY DAY INTO A COMPLETE NERVOUS BREAKDOWN.
"

CHAPTER TEN

Shocked, Sarah scanned the article, picking out key phrases such as "
wild erratic behavior
," "
inconsistent quality,
" "
a has-been at twenty-four
," "
unstable and irresponsible
," "
too many late nights
," and "
numerous performances canceled at the last minute make her a bad risk
." Had something awful happened to Sunny after they had parted last weekend? Had Sarah been so out of touch that she hadn't known that Sunny was lying in a hospital room right now? Her hands were shaking as she checked the date on the magazine's cover.

It was two months old. Not only was the magazine out of date, but the author had dug up a few of
Sunny's past mistakes and expanded them into a slanderous character assassination. Sarah's fear turned into a fierce, protective anger. Some of the accusations were partially true, but that didn't give anyone the right to pass judgment on Sunny. She was trying to straighten out her life, and this magazine had no right printing this damaging trumped up story.

"These are filthy lies," she snapped as she pushed abruptly away from the table. "You shouldn't waste your money on trash like this." And with a flick of her wrist she tossed the magazine into the campfire. "If you will remind me tomorrow, I've got some autographed pictures in the trailer that I'd be happy to give you," she said to the astonished owner of the magazine that was now being greedily consumed by the
flames. "If you will excuse me, I'm going to my camper." Stiffly, her hands clenched into fists, she stalked away from the dumbstruck group.

She knew she shouldn't let some glory-seeking author upset her like this, but no one else realized how hard Sunny worked or how difficult the life of an entertainer was. Possibly it wouldn't be so bad if Sunny had achieved the status of Dolly Parton or Loretta Lynn. But even these big-time stars had spent many years performing on the road. And no matter how famous you got, you never stopped being a target for every vicious reporter who didn't have anything better to write about. The bigger you got, the bigger the lies that were printed about you.

The publicity about Sunny's questionable love life usually contained only a small percentage of truth, but the public expected and applauded outrageous behavior. These stories could be ignored or encouraged, depending on what kind of coverage Sunny needed at the time. But when doubts were cast on her mental stability or her professional ability, important people began to pay attention. These were the people who set up the bookings and negotiated the contracts. There was a big difference between singing at a major rodeo and singing at a high school prom. It had taken Sunny too many years of hard work to pull herself up to where she was today for a few half-truths and cruel accusations to send it all crashing down around her.

Sarah wondered if Mack had seen this article. He probably had, or he wouldn't have come down so hard on Sunny for trying to back out of her commitment to appear on this trail ride and in Houston. Mack was an excellent manager, always arranging for Sunny to get top dollar for her shows. And he really did have her best interests at heart, never finalizing a booking until Sunny gave her approval.

The whole problem was that Sunny didn't realize that being young and beautiful with more than her share of talent did not mean that her career couldn't be ruined by her careless behavior. She must learn to discipline herself if she intended to stay in this business for a long time.

Helpless tears rolled down Sarah's cheeks. She longed for the comfort and strength of Tyler's arms, but he was one of the reasons she was crying. Even though there was a basis in truth for several of the accusations about Sunny, it was imperative that no one else know that.
Sunny's career could not survive the blow, and for Sunny her career was her life. Sarah would do anything in her power to help Sunny, and that included sacrificing her relationship with Tyler if there was even a remote possibility that he would become infuriated at her admission and tell the press. It would be like throwing Sunny to the wolves.

Sarah showered and dressed for bed. She didn't know if Tyler would stop by to see her after everyone else left the area. More importantly, she didn't know if she wanted him to. Despondently she sat in her darkened trailer, listening to the shouts of laughter and burst of song from the other riders. Still sitting on the sofa, her feet tucked under the full skirt of her gown, she fell into an exhausted sleep.

A muffled knock woke her, and she glanced at her watch. Even without seeing the time she knew from the quiet outside that it must be fairly late. Rubbing and stretching a crick in her neck, she reached for a light switch.

It's me, Tyler. Are you okay?" he whispered loudly.

With a relieved sigh she opened the door. Regardless of how she should feel, she was glad that he was here. "Come in," she invited, suddenly shy as she saw him standing on her doorstep, his hat held in his hands and his face boyishly handsome in the soft moonlight.

"I didn't know whether to come by tonight or not," His normally self-assured voice held a note of uncertainty. "You were so upset that I thought you might need to talk to someone."

"Not just someone," she said softly as she shut the door behind him. "I need you." For several seconds they stood apart, neither speaking as their eyes feasted on each other. It had been a long hard day, made worse by their separation, and although neither appeared to make the first move, they were suddenly in each other's arms.

Carelessly he tossed his hat on the sofa, following it up with his heavy coat. Eagerly he crushed her slim warm body against him, his hands savoring the stimulating sensation of slick silk sliding over her smooth, soft skin. Her feminine figure snuggled next to him, fitting perfectly against his hardened male physique. Sensing her need to be comforted, he just held her tightly, crooning gentle words of consolation while she clung to him.

"You didn't believe any of those lies, did you?" she murmured anxiously, tilting her head back so she could see his expression.

"Of course not," he was quick to reassure her. "The person I've gotten to know in the last few days bears no resemblance to the person in that article. You're one of the most decent, kindhearted ladies I've ever had the pleasure to meet. I have no questions about your sanity or stability."

"I never feel very sane when I'm in your arms," she breathed against his approaching lips, unable to worry about Sunny's problems when she could feel the accelerated thumping of his heart against her breast.

"You've been driving me crazy too," he answered as he tenderly took possession of her mouth before showering her eyes, forehead, cheeks, and even the tip of her small nose with ardent kisses.

"Do you want me to stop?" she asked, pulling the tails of his shirt out of his pants with seductive slowness. It pleased her to know that she drove him beyond reason, because he had the same disturbing effect on her. When he held her, she lost all awareness of time or place; of right and wrong.

"No," be returned to the intoxicating sweetness of her lips. "I just want you to make it a short trip." His hands eased the gown off her shoulders, helping it glide down the long line of her body to lie in a shiny puddle of fabric on the carpet.

Her own eager fingers pulled apart the line of snaps that ran down the front of his shirt before sliding around to stroke the taut muscles of his broad shoulders. She shuddered in delight as his hand found one breast, kneading it gently as he cradled it in his work-roughened palm.

Desire raced through her body like fire, melting her bones until she leaned limply against him. He hugged her tightly, possessively while his lips became more demanding.

His voice deepened hoarsely as he asked, "'Are we going to fight over the sofa and the bed again tonight?"

"I'm a lover, not a fighter." She smiled coquettishly. "Forget the sofa! I'll race you to the bed."

"Oh, no, you won't. I'm not letting go of you until daylight," he promised, lifting her easily and carrying her into the bedroom.

As she lay back against the pillows she watched him shed his clothes with surprising speed, the classic beauty of his rippling muscles and tapered masculine build filling her with a pulsing warmth that could be satisfied only by him.

Returning the compliment, his eyes studied her as if trying to memorize every lovely inch of her body. She could feel the caress of his eyes as vividly as if he were stroking her with his hands. Their gray softness followed her graceful curves from the top of her firm full breasts down into the shadowy valley of her femininity. Restlessly she writhed beneath his gaze in a primitive plea for relief from the building tension as he prepared for their lovemaking. She looked at him with gratitude shining in her eyes for his thoughtfulness in wanting to protect her.

"God, you're incredible," be murmured as his body covered hers, his flesh throbbing against her softness. The driving passion of his kiss parted her lips, allowing him access to plunder the moist sweetness of her mouth. His hands touched and teased, tuning her body as tightly as the strings of a guitar until they came together in nature's perfect harmony. Their symphony climbed to a frenzied crescendo, then faded slowly into a gentle lullaby.

A languor born of complete contentment kept them entwined together for several quiet minutes after their passions had been temporarily sated. At last Tyler spoke, his words muffled by her cloud of hair, which pillowed his head.

"I don't see why you were so worried about those lies in that magazine article," he commented huskily. "Last night you proved to me that I shouldn't believe everything I read about you."

"What do you mean?" She shifted slightly so she could see his face, which rested only inches from hers.

"I meant that after everything I had heard about your active sex life, you can imagine my surprise when I found out the truth."

"Oh, that," she muttered, a pink flush staining her cheeks as she tried to think of a believable explanation. "It isn't exactly a subject you want debated by the press," she hedged.

"Well, as soon as I get home, I'm going to cancel all my magazine subscriptions," he teased before adding seriously, "but I'm glad I was the one to find out the truth."

This conversation was entirely too personal and becoming more dangerous by the moment. It was peculiar how her own lack of experience and Sunny's unjustly publicized overabundance of it had chosen this moment to surface. Embarrassed and unsure of how she should react to this touchy situation, Sarah turned away from him.

"Hey, I didn't mean to embarrass you," he soothed. "I'm proud to be your first lover, and I'm sorry I brought the subject up at all. It was just that everything about you is so different from the way I thought it would be."

Sarah caught her breath in alarm. She knew she had let her emotions carry her too far. She had always prided herself on her self-control, but that was before she had met Tyler. There was an animal magnetism between them that she was helpless to resist. But, she comforted herself, as long as he never learned the whole truth, how could she possibly regret this time spent in his arms?

"Don't get me wrong," he hastened to add. "The surprises have all been terrific. I think I'll volunteer for this job every year." Laughing, he dodged her playful punch, which landed harmlessly against the rock-hard muscle of his bicep.

"I hope they get Willie Nelson next year," she retorted with an innocent flutter of her thick, dark eyelashes. "His hair is almost as long as mine."

"Somehow I don't think it would be as much fun," he teased as he leaned over her, one hand tracing the graceful curve of her jaw. "Speaking of Willie Nelson, have you ever noticed how many country and western singers have names that end with that
ee sound? Is it some sort of unwritten rule that to be successful, you must be named Johnny, Charlie, Kenny, Mickey, or Bobby?"