Rock God (Hearts of Metal Book 3) (6 page)

Her eyes strayed to a picture of Dante on the wall. He seemed to be smiling at her, giving her strength. Memories of him carrying her and bandaging her feet, and of her dream of him holding her and singing washed over her like a healing balm.

“Who are you really?” she whispered to the photograph, and the spicy tingle of curiosity in her soul returned with magnified intensity. Thoughts of her mother wisped away, and she renewed her exploring.

Snooping,
you mean
, a sarcastic voice intruded, but Shayna brushed it away.

She left the office and passed a sliding glass door that led out to a pool and hot tub, and the shimmering water made her muscles cry out in longing. A swim would feel so good. She wished she’d packed a bathing suit. Then again, chlorine would probably sting her feet, so Shayna gave the pool a last rueful look and continued exploring.

Her feet protested the abuse, but her curiosity was rampant. And she learned much. Not only did Dante have a pool, he also had a mini movie theater, a room dedicated to listening to music, with everything from records to CDs to an iPod, and a little private bar area with a pool table. But it wasn’t the gleaming hand-carved bar or impressive collection of top-shelf vintages that made her eyes nearly burst out of her skull. It was the wall decorations. There were framed records all over the place, and they weren’t vinyl. Gold, silver, and platinum shone brightly along the room’s dark wood walls.

Shayna walked closer, her heart in her throat. Every album bore the same name: Deity.

Señor Deity.
Dante
Deity.
That
was where she’d heard the name, and it was why that song outside the concert had sounded so familiar.

The breath whooshed out of her body. This was why she’d met him outside of the concert. This was why he’d been dressed in leather and chains. Dante Deity was a rock star. And if his mansion and the awards on the wall were any indicator, he was a big one. She’d probably heard his stuff before she married Shawn, who always had the radio tuned to country.

Dante’s voice behind her made her heart stop.

“What are you doing? I’ve been looking all over for you. You’re supposed to be resting.”

Shayna whipped around and met his accusing stare with one of her own, hoping he didn’t see her knees shaking. “Why didn’t you tell me you were famous?”

His eyes narrowed. “Why? So you can freak out and act all scared—like you are now?” He frowned and shifted his grip on the many shopping bags he carried. “Besides, I did tell you, but you fell asleep.”

“But…but…,” she stammered, overwhelmed with this new revelation.

“But nothing.” He raised a hand to ward off her protests. “Since it’s still a little early for a drink, why don’t we go to the living room and look at the clothes I bought for you?”

Shayna gaped. “You bought me clothes?”

He nodded. “All your old stuff was worn out. Don’t worry, I wrote down all the sizes before I threw them away… Well, except for your shoes. Those got left on the bus. And since they were all bloody, ruined and didn’t smell good, I’m sure they were thrown out. So I bought three different sizes of shoes and slippers. I also got some other things you might need.”

“You went into my backpack?” She couldn’t keep the outrage from her voice at the thought of
him
, a famous rock star, going through her stuff. Seeing what she’d taken from her broken home. Handling her dirty underwear.

Another realization punched her in the gut. “You didn’t throw out the blanket, did you?”

“No!” he said so vehemently that she stepped back. His eyes blazed with countless emotions. For a second he even looked sad. Then his shoulders slumped and his voice softened. “I mean, it wasn’t full of holes like your clothes, so I washed it for you. And…” He broke off and shook his head. “As for my searching your backpack, you passed out in my arms outside the concert arena,” he reminded her.

Moving close, he tucked her arm over his shoulder and helped her down the hall, easing her onto the couch with aching gentleness. When he was done he asked, “How the hell else was I supposed to find out who you were?”

Mind still spinning, more from the sensation of his arm around her than anything else, Shayna forgot to bother with a response as he pulled out the clothes he’d bought and laid them on the enormous couch.

“Oh my God, that’s a gorgeous top!” A thrill of warmth spiraled in her heart at his kindness.

“Yeah, well, I can’t take credit for that,” he said with an almost shy smile. “I told the ladies working there that you’d lost everything in a fire. They practically jumped over themselves to help you, and then picked everything out.”

“Why’d you tell them that?” Her cheeks grew warm as she found a blue lacy bra.

Dante smiled. “Because I don’t think they would have believed the truth.”

Shayna conceded with a nod and went back to examining the clothes. He had bought her everything: socks, underwear, shirts, jeans, pajamas, even a swimsuit. It seemed she’d get to enjoy the pool after all. There was also a deep blue dress that was too fancy to wear anywhere. Still, that didn’t stop her from caressing the impossibly smooth fabric and longing to try it on.

The other bag contained a razor, lotions, moisturizers, makeup, and even tampons.

“This is a lot for only a week,” Shayna said, unable to hide her worry. She knew she had enough in her account to pay him back for her medical expenses, especially if the insurance covered most, but this was several hundred dollars’ worth of stuff.

“About that.” Dante cleared his throat and gave her the full force of his gaze. “I think you should stay here longer.”

His serious tone unnerved her in a way she couldn’t explain. “Why?”

“I know about the baby, Shayna.” His pewter eyes were firm and unyielding. “And I know about your husband and his affair.”

Alternate hot and cold flashes assaulted her body. “How?” she whispered, hoping she wouldn’t pass out or throw up.

“You had a nightmare. I woke you up and you told me.” Dante shook his head. “I’ve never heard anyone scream like that. I can’t imagine the pain you’ve been through.”

His gentle tone made her throat prickle with threatening tears. “I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

“You’re going to have to talk to someone eventually.” His gaze hardened. “And until you’re better, physically
and
emotionally, you’re staying here. I insist.”

The vast walls of the mansion closed in on her. “I’m fine,” Shayna lied.

“You walked over a thousand miles and messed up your feet so badly you can barely stand.” Dante crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. “You are
not
fine.”

“Why are you doing this?” Shayna cried, confused. “Why do you want me to stay with you? I mean, don’t you have more important things to do, albums to record?”
Why would someone as big as you care about someone as small as me?

“I’m finished touring until next spring, so I need something to do right now.” His tone softened. “Also, I’m doing this because I care—and because I like to help people,” he said. She could tell he was sincere.

“You called me a project last night,” she pointed out, unable to help a note of accusation. Just because he was a rock god didn’t make her any less of a person, or any less in control of her own life. She was tired of being treated like she didn’t have any say.

He shrugged. “So what if you are? Everybody is at one point or another. Even me.”

His blasé attitude was infuriating. She forced a note of challenge in her tone, but it wavered. “Well, what if I leave? You can’t stop me.”

“No, I can’t,” Dante agreed calmly. “But I really hope you will stay and let me help. Either way, I won’t try to force you. But I know you should stay.”

Shayna sighed. He was the bossiest, most autocratic man she’d ever met. Still, Dante was right in that she didn’t have anywhere else to go and could barely walk.

“Fine, I’ll stay for now. And I do appreciate your help.” She managed a smile and changed the subject. “You said I could use your computer, didn’t you? Can I see if my divorce has gone through?”

“Of course.”

When he grinned, she rolled her eyes. Of course he would smile and be gracious. He’d won.

Chapter Five

Dante helped Shayna log on to his computer but stuck around to peek at her email. He knew it was rude, but his curiosity was impossible to resist.

“Do you have to hover over my shoulder like that?”

She turned away from the computer screen to give him an exasperated look, but Dante ignored her and read her jackass husband’s reply:

If this is some kind of pity game, I’m not playing. I’m taking the house and everything else I paid for. Keep your little bank account. I filed the papers already and attached the divorce decree, so you can’t change your mind. I’ll send you the finalized papers when they come.

P.S. I would appreciate it if you did not keep my last name.

“What an asshole.” Dante was surprised at his fury. He wanted to fly up to Portland and kick the shit out of the sanctimonious son of a bitch. “Am I reading this right, Shayna? Did you really sign everything over to him?”

“I sure did,” she said, lifting her chin in what she probably hoped was a formidable manner. Really, it was just cute. Especially since he’d given her polka-dotted Band-Aids.

Shayna continued. “As he said, he paid for everything and I want nothing to do with it. Besides, my bank account isn’t so little, and if he’d been paying any attention to me instead of sleeping around he’d know it. As soon as you take me to the bank, I can pay you back for all you’ve done.”

Dante closed his eyes and struggled to gather his patience. God, this woman needed a keeper. First she turned down the chance at alimony, and now she was trying to throw away part of her nest egg on him?

“Shayna, I won’t let you pay me back,” he said in the most level voice possible.

Her eyes narrowed. “But I want to do things for myself for once.”

“If you continue to argue with me, I’ll buy you a sapphire necklace to go with your new dress.”

Her horrified look made him chuckle. In his world of greedy, entitled celebrities, she was a true novelty. No, more than a novelty. She was a miracle.

Shayna gave him a mutinous glare. “You are really weird, you know that?” she said. Then she turned and replied to her ex-husband.

Thank you for taking care of the final paperwork. I hope you and your beverage vendor find more happiness than we had,
she typed eloquently.

“You stupid jerk-off,” Dante added.

“I’m not going to say that!” But Shayna giggled, sending a tremor of warmth down his spine. “At least not out loud.”

Her smile enchanted him. It made her look ethereal and fey all at once. Once more, lust welled up within Dante.

He shook it off and looked at her long list of emails. It seemed housewives like her spent a lot of time online. No doubt she’d been lonely, and the next one she opened piqued his interest a little:
Hi, Shayna, I know that you must still be grieving, but it’s been so long since I’ve heard from you. Are you okay? Best, Emma.

“Looks like this one was worried about you,” he commented, curiosity building about her past. “Why didn’t you go to her when—?”

“Because she’s all the way in New York, for one thing,” Shayna cut him off. “For another, I’ve only met her in person once, so that would be awkward. Seriously, can you please let me have some privacy?”

No doubt her husband’s cold response had cut her deeply. There was something off in her tone, aside from her annoyance with his intrusion on her correspondence, which of course he really shouldn’t have done. A surge of guilt washed over him. “Okay, well, I’ll leave you alone for now and see what Rosa’s making for dinner.”

Leaving her side was almost a mistake. The second he entered the kitchen, Rosa treated him to one of her signature scoldings.

“She is much too skinny,” the housekeeper began, as if it were his fault. “And she would not rest like I told her. She said
you
told her she could read in the library.”

That wasn’t exactly what he’d said, but Dante knew if he told Rosa that she would mother Shayna even worse. The housekeeper might be the best he’d ever had, but damn, she could be a busybody—which was probably why she got along so well with him. They had that in common. But that didn’t mean they needed to double-team their guest.

“I want Shayna to be comfortable here, Rosa,” he said carefully. “And I will make sure that she eats a big dinner.”

“What am I to do?” the housekeeper continued. “You leave me alone with this injured woman, with only a note telling about her…and a large grocery list.”

“And a large bonus check to cover the inconvenience,” he reminded her.

“
Si
,” Rosa said with a smile and returned to the stove. It smelled like her enchiladas. She couldn’t be too upset if she was making one of her best dishes.

But then she moved on to a new topic. “She says she is divorced. Do you know why?”

“Her husband is a stupid, philandering jackass.”

He regretted the words the minute they left his mouth, for Rosa’s broad grin made him cringe almost as much as her words. “You need a new wife,
Señor
Deity. Just because your last one did not appreciate you, doesn’t mean you should give up. You do not philander. You have not had a woman here since your wife left. And
Senorita
Shayna is very pretty. Maybe—”

“She is a project, Rosa,” Dante cut her off. “She will leave when she is well…although that will be longer than a week.”

The housekeeper chuckled as he left the kitchen, and he fought off the ridiculous notion that he was fleeing her.

As he passed his office again, he heard the rapid clicking of computer keys as Shayna answered her emails. Damn, that woman could type fast. He wondered if she’d picked up any other skills while being a housewife.

Maybe he could hire her to answer his fan mail, or be something of a secretary.

Dante immediately rejected that idea with a frown. No, her aura of innocence made him want to keep her away from the music business.