Rock God (Hearts of Metal Book 3) (7 page)

Still, his mind spun, and his nerves jumped for something to do. Besides meetings with the record company and a few interviews, there was nothing to occupy him for the next few weeks until his band joined him for work on the new album. This ennui always drove him mad. He was the kind of person who needed to be doing something all the time—which was probably why his marriage had failed, Dante reminded himself with a sneer in Rosa’s direction. Then he wandered upstairs. A wife was the last thing he needed.

Shayna’s bedroom door hung open, and the sight of the shopping bags strewn across her bed assaulted Dante’s sense of organization. He just couldn’t stand it when everything wasn’t in its place. The irony made him shake his head with a rueful smile: Last night he’d worried that
Shayna
was a clean freak. Then again, it wouldn’t be good for her to be on her feet so long to sort through all this stuff…

For the next few minutes he occupied himself putting the items away. When he got to the underwear, he shook his head and remembered standing in the intimate apparel section of the department store, stupefied at the selection. If he got her thongs, would she think he was lusting after her? If he got “granny panties,” would she be repulsed? Thankfully, the sales girl had saved him from his ignorance. And he was quite proud of his fire story!

Once everything was put away, he went downstairs and warned Shayna that it was almost time for dinner, holding back a laugh as he watched how fast she signed off. She was clearly hungry.

“I need to shower and change into my new clothes,” she said quickly. “Then I’ll be right down.”

“You took a bath yesterday,” he pointed out. “You need to stay off your feet. Besides, dinner’s not a formal affair. You don’t need to stand on ceremony. Especially since I’ve already seen you in what you’re wearing now. Really, you look fine.”

Shayna wrinkled her nose in disgust. “As much as I appreciate you loaning me your clothes—and again, thank you—I look like a little kid playing dress-up.”

Actually, he thought she looked rather adorable.

She blushed and added, “And I’d really like to put on some underwear.”

She wasn’t wearing panties…? The thought was all too enticing.

“Fine,” he said, and his voice came out husky as he imagined her naked in that marble tub. “But please, go easy on yourself.”

His lust died when she got to her feet and shambled out of the office, her face contorted with pain. His fists clenched with resolve. He
would
make her put her feet up for the rest of the evening no matter what she said.

She made it back downstairs right as Rosa set dinner on the table.

“That smells heavenly,” she said, making Rosa beam.

Despite her pronouncement, Shayna then picked at the food, darting nervous glances at him between bites. Dante was finally forced to ask, “What’s wrong? Are you mad at me for throwing away your old clothes, or hovering over you when you were checking your emails? Or are you still hung up over my celebrity status?” He frowned, suddenly worried that it was the latter. He’d so enjoyed her talking to him like he was a regular person.

To his dismay, she nodded. “A little. I’m not used to being waited upon, though Rosa is wonderful.
I
always did the cooking and cleaning.”

“Well, lots of people have housekeepers,” he pointed out. “And you shouldn’t be nervous around me. You don’t exactly look like you listen to heavy metal music. Hell, you didn’t even recognize me!”

Her eyes narrowed. “I recognized your voice outside of the concert last night. And I did listen to metal in high school. The only reason I stopped was because my husband didn’t like it.”

“Did you always go with his whims?” Dante asked, unable to stop himself. The more he learned about her marriage, the more his stomach churned with disgust at her jerk husband—and the more he longed to comfort her.

“I was trying to be a good wife. Besides,” she added defensively, “I listened to what I wanted when he wasn’t home, including some metal stations.”

For some reason the thought of her listening to his music made a warm tremor rush up Dante’s spine. He shook off the odd sensation and changed the subject.

“Your new clothes seem to fit.” It was a lame attempt at a new topic, but it was the best he could do at the moment. At least she didn’t seem so nervous anymore.

“They do. Thank you again.”

Her cheeks pinkened and Dante couldn’t help admiring how much better she looked after a night’s rest and new clothes. More than just
better
, he thought, studying her shoulder-length dark brown hair, elfin features, and the way her blue knit top clung to her breasts. A tremor of alarm crept up his spine at the growing warmth in his stomach. He would have to be careful. It really wouldn’t do to be too attracted when he was supposed to be helping her, as that would only complicate the project. And this was definitely a project.

Dante tore his gaze from her and forced his attention back to his meal. They both finished eating, and Rosa cleared their plates, firmly refusing Shayna’s offer to help clean up. Then Dante guided her into the living room and put on a movie after she took her pain medication.

He suggested
Monty Python and the Holy Grail
, since she’d said they both enjoyed all things medieval. He wanted to see her laugh, and he was well-rewarded as the movie played. He was reminded again of how young she was, that she had never seen it. Still, sharing the movie with her was a wonderful experience.

When the credits rolled, she was clearly ready for bed. He fought back unreasonable disappointment that she didn’t need him to carry her. Really, his back muscles should be sighing in relief, but his arms…well, they ached to hold her again.

Chapter Six

The next morning, Shayna fought back disappointment that she hadn’t dreamed of Dante singing to her again. Now that she knew he really was a singer, a small part of her wondered if it hadn’t been a dream after all. Then again, he didn’t look like the lullaby type. But he had been there and…

She supposed she’d never know, since she was too shy to ask.

“I have a meeting with my producer about the timeline of our next album and a bunch of marketing crap,” he announced after breakfast. “The damn thing will probably last several hours. Feel free to use my computer if you get bored.”

Dante gave her a long, unreadable look, and Shayna tried to interpret. Did he not want to leave her? Why not?

She supposed it didn’t matter. The second he left the house, Shayna limped to his office and turned on the computer, opening her email. She’d been dreading Emma’s reply to her own, and hoped her editor wasn’t mad at her.

She opened the email and sighed with relief at the understanding response:

Hey, Shayna. I’m simply glad to hear you’re okay. Just get better. Though, I hope you can get a pitch to me in two weeks and a hopeful manuscript turn-in by October. Regards, Emma.

Manuscript turn-in. The words used to fill her with excitement of rising to the challenge, but now they settled in her stomach like a lump of lead. October, though
.
She still had three months. But three months didn’t seem like very long when she hadn’t done anything since Shawn Jr. died except huddle in a ball of misery. And now, here she was in the home of a famous rock star, unable to think of anything but him! His kindness, his infuriating bossiness, his pulse-raising smile… The tantalizing glimpses of his abs when he’d yawned and stretched after that movie.

With a guilty frown, Shayna closed Emma’s email. She hadn’t exactly been honest with Dante about how far her liking to write went. But she didn’t dare tell him. Her mother’s, husband’s, and even her family doctor’s scorn had stung. If Dante mocked her for being the ultimate cliché, a housewife who wrote romance novels, she’d be mortified.

Okay, that wasn’t the complete truth. She also didn’t know if she was a writer anymore. Emma wanted a pitch? Shayna had nothing. Her well of creativity had completely dried up.

Instead of opening a Word program like a good writer, Shayna clicked off her email and Googled Dante Deity
,
unable to help her rampant curiosity. A blinding multitude of articles for her rock-star savior, interviews, and music videos popped up, and for the next few hours she studied him, growing more fascinated by the minute.

No wonder his voice was so familiar. His first band had been called Hurricane, and when the band broke up he joined Holy Wars. She’d listened to them constantly back in high school. About ten years ago, Dante started his solo career as simply Deity.

Shayna watched some music videos she found and was blown away by the power of his voice—and by how many of his songs she recognized. Dante wasn’t just famous. He was an icon. But it was the interviews that really caught her fascination. She didn’t know if it was his politeness and intense honesty with the interviewers, the cute way he fidgeted in his seat as if he was shy, or the appearance of that damn smile. Even on a computer screen, he made her belly flutter. And his performances held so much raw power that her pulse sped just watching him. She found herself wishing he performed topless like many other rock stars, wondering what those muscles she’d felt beneath his leather looked like.

She also read that he had a reputation for being an overbearing perfectionist, and could be hard to work with, as he was something of a dictator. A dry laugh escaped her lips. “At least it’s not personal,” she muttered.

Then Shayna saw something that made her go cold.

ROCKER DEITY AND COLLETTE DIVORCE SCANDAL.

Dante had been
married
? And not just married to anyone. Collette was a pop megastar. Shawn even listened to her once in a while, commenting on her “smoking hot body” every time one of her music videos came on TV. Or at least he had. She had been a big star until she suddenly decided to retreat from the spotlight around a year ago.

Shayna hadn’t even known Collette was married. Had her career ended when she and Dante got divorced? Shayna checked the date of the article. No, that news had been posted two years ago. So they’d been apart for a year before Collette’s disappearance from the public eye. But, had the divorce been the reason? And how did a metal god and a pop star end up married in the first place? Shayna would have thought that, like in the literary world, different genres steered clear of each other.

Unable to stop herself, Shayna dug deeper. Apparently Dante and Collette had met at a celebrity fundraising event three years ago. After a whirlwind courtship, including pairing for a duet that topped the billboard for months, they’d married on some tropical island that Shayna couldn’t pronounce. For the first year of their marriage, they were seen occasionally at charity events and award ceremonies, the latter of which Dante looked increasingly uncomfortable attending. To be honest, Collette’s smiles at the charity balls seemed more and more forced, too. Yet when Shayna backtracked to the article about their divorce, there was no big scandal, contrary to the headline, which must have just served as click-bait. Both parties professed that it was an amicable separation.

Though, Collette married her manager shortly afterward. That had led to speculations that she’d been cheating on Dante all along.

Shayna shook her head. How could anyone cheat on such a luscious man? Even Shawn at his most handsome couldn’t compare to Dante, who looked like sin incarnate.

Unable to help herself, Shayna clicked on a video of the famous pair singing their acclaimed duet from one of Collette’s albums. Shayna froze at the first notes. She’d had this song on her MP3 player. It was one of her favorites to listen to when she was doing housework and plotting book scenes. The longing in their voices—and now, in this video, in their eyes—was unmistakable. It was no wonder they’d gotten married.

Her stomach rolled uncomfortably. Why did this bother her so much? Was it because Shayna wanted everyone to live happily ever after and was sad whenever love didn’t work out? If so, why was it that Collette’s heart-stopping beauty and the way Dante looked at her were what made her feel ill?

Even as she scolded herself for continuing to dig, Shayna clicked link after link. Collette and Dante seemed to have quit associating after their divorce, except for an encounter shortly after she announced her retirement from music. There was a photo of him confronting Collette only last year, pointing at her, and he had the most furious snarl on his face. Shayna shuddered at the sight and prayed she’d never see him that angry. His eyes were like chips of ice.

After some searching, she found a video interview explaining the angry photo.

“I was furious that she could abandon her fans like that.”

Collette’s retirement had pissed Dante off. The anger was unmistakable in his voice, and the interviewer pushed up her glasses. “Collette didn’t tell you why she gave up music when you confronted her?”

“No.”

Dante had been really hurt by his former wife’s defection, Shayna could tell. She was outraged at Collette for causing him pain but also curious about why Collette had quit singing. So she moved the mouse to click the next link, and then the next. She couldn’t find exactly what she wanted.

A little after three o’clock, Rosa brought her a sandwich and chips, scolding her about needing to eat and rest. Shayna waved the housekeeper off and continued to read every scrap of information she could find.

Munching on the provided food, she watched more videos of Dante performing, awed once again by his powerful voice and majestic presence. Then she scrolled over to another interview, preferring the videos where she could see him smile….

“You’ve been Googling me all day?”

Dante’s voice came from behind her, making her drop a potato chip on her lap. Her face flamed as she realized it was now a quarter after four. Oh God, what if he thought she was being creepy and obsessive?
Was
she being creepy and obsessive?

“I wanted to know more about you!” She hated the defensive tone in her voice. “And it wasn’t ‘all day.’ I also answered some emails.”