Rock Steady (12 page)

Bryan lifted an eyebrow.

“Just fine,” she sputtered before realizing he hadn’t asked the question. “I mean—” She’d started to lift her coffee but put it back on the table. She so didn’t need any caffeine at the moment.

“Thank you for the help,” she managed to get out in a tone that was somewhat collected. “I shouldn’t have needed it.”

Bryan offered her a soft smile, the sort you gave a child when you knew they had no fucking clue. “If I might be so bold, Ms. Ryan, your life has changed dramatically in the last few days. I suspected you might be unaware of that fact when you departed the Hyatt alone. On a bicycle.”

He was wearing a kind expression, but all that did was drive home the feeling that she’d acted like a Twinkie-brain. Fresh from a backwater, three-horse town in North Dakota.

“Morcant Industries can take you to the top of the art world. Mr. Morcant has a unique interest in your talents,” Bryan continued. “Mr. Morcant is committed to signing you as an exclusive artist.”

“Except that she’s under contract with Toxsin.”

Jewel jumped. Ramsey was suddenly there, his expression dark. “Tell Morcant to back off.”

“Toxsin was a good launching pad, but they can’t do for your career what Morcant Industries can,” Bryan went on. He pushed his business card right under her hand resting on the tabletop.

“She’s mine,” Ramsey declared. His tone was hard, and more than one female in the store glanced their way. When they took in Ramsey, they sent her withering looks.

“Take a meeting with us, Ms. Ryan. You won’t regret it.”

Ramsey hooked her bicep and pulled her out of the booth. She let him, only because Bryan had stalked her. Talk about being between a rock and a hard place. The camera jockeys lifted their hardware when she neared the door of the coffee shop, surrounding her with flashes as the reporter moved in.

“Ramsey, could you tell us more about your fight with Taz?”

“That’s Toxsin-style play,” Ramsey replied smoothly. “My bandmates are my brothers.”

“Is that why Syon Braden was on top of your new girlfriend?” The woman followed them toward the curb and the car that was sliding up smoothly. “Brotherly love? Sharing all around?”

Taz opened the door of the car for her as Ramsey turned and blocked her with his body, shielding her from the paparazzi.

“Wait…the bike…I have to return it.” Jewel pointed at the bike where it was leaning against the coffee shop. Without missing a beat, the man in the passenger-side front seat was out and striding toward the bike. He hopped onto it and started away.

“That’s not a good idea—” she called out to him.

The damaged front wheel wobbled, and he ended up crashing into a tree.

“How did you ride that thing?” Ramsey demanded.

“It worked fine until she almost hit me with her van,” Jewel defended herself. Ramsey had turned to look at her. His expression darkened, rage flickering in his eyes. He spun around, but the reporter was scrambling backward, stumbling into people who had stopped to watch.

“It was an accident,” she claimed.

The two police officers had taken notice of the bike hitting the tree. They frowned at the reporter as Jewel reached out to stop Ramsey.

“Let’s just go,” she said. “It’s only a bike. I’ll pay for it.”

Ramsey snapped his attention back to her. “I don’t give a shit about the bike.”

That much was true. She slid into the car, mostly in an effort to get away from the smoldering glare coming from him. Ramsey ended up following her, but not before Taz gave him a shove. The door slammed shut before she realized Taz had taken up a seat in the front with the driver and copilot. There was a soft whine as a privacy window slid up to seal her in the back with Ramsey.

“You don’t fucking need this…” He reached out and plucked the business card from her fingers. He crushed it in one hard motion before chucking it across the car.

“That’s not for you to decide,” she countered. “I thought the idea was for me to find another position.”

Her words brought him up short. She watched them sink in as he bit back a word of profanity.

“Not with Morcant. He’s looking to use you against us.”

“Why would he do something like that?” she asked.

Ramsey looked like he didn’t want to tell her but his resolve weakened under her glare. “Because we didn’t sign with him.” He blew out a breath and shook his head. “Look, I know I sound like a colossal jerk.”

“You’re acting like one too. Why are you so hot on my tail? Did I miss clock-in time or something?”

“I forgot to tell you about the paparazzi,” he answered her sharply. “There are pictures of you and Syon all over the tabloids today. I should have warned you last night about them. Why did you go out so early? And what’s up with your cell phone? The location chip doesn’t work.”

“It was noon,” she said. “And what do you mean about my cell phone?”

He gave her a bored expression. “EOD. I can hack a civilian phone in moments.”

The information was unsettling. Hell, it should have pissed her off, except she discovered herself battling that respect she’d felt for him on the night of the concert.

Get a grip, Jewel!

“I wanted to find Voodoo Doughnut. They’re a Portland-area highlight.”

Jewel realized her head was spinning. She lifted her hand and suddenly felt like her right hip was on fire. Obviously her landing had left a mark.

“Shit.” He shot to the end of the bench seat they were on and turned so he was facing her. Her chin was suddenly cradled in his hand as he held her head level and studied her. “They ran you off the road? And Bryan sat there pushing Morcant’s offer on you instead of getting you checked out?”

There was raw fury in his tone.

“I’m fine,” she said as she tried to lift her chin out of his grip.

“Your eyes are dilated,” he said as he reached down and clasped her hands. “And your hands are like ice. You’re in shock.”

He leaned forward and banged on the privacy window. It lowered instantly. “Those pricks ran her off the road. She needs treatment.”

“I do not,” Jewel protested. “I just landed hard.”

“You hit something too,” Ramsey said. “Or the bike wouldn’t have been damaged.”

His tone was softer now. Caring. That freaked her out when she coupled it with the mental image of the bike as the Toxsin crew member tried to ride it.

“I don’t remember hitting anything.” But she did feel like she was ready to hurl. The few sips of coffee she’d swallowed felt like they were ripping the lining of her stomach off. “This is stupid. I was fine. Just…really…fine.”

Ramsey still had her hands. He was rubbing them, the heat from his fingers making her sigh.

Taz held up his cell phone for the driver to see.

“I’m not going to an emergency room,” Jewel insisted.

Taz cast a look over his shoulder, but at Ramsey, not her. She pulled her hands from his grip. “I mean it.”

“Private clinic,” Ramsey countered.

“Voodoo Doughnut,” she demanded.

Ramsey’s lips twitched, betraying how much he enjoyed her stubbornness. She pointed at him. “You smiled. I win.”

She leaned back against the seat. She was still cold, but her thin jacket was already zipped up. She tucked her hands into the pockets and tried to will herself to warm up.

“Come here.”

Ramsey, Metal Rock God, was suddenly folding her into his embrace as though she were a fragile baby bird. He had on a T-shirt to cover up his tattoo, the thin jersey warm from his body.

“Put your hands between us,” he whispered from where he was resting his chin against her head. She thought she heard him inhale against her hair, his solid frame shuddering.

“On my chest…”

She wiggled as she pulled her hands free of her pockets and flattened them on his chest. Her senses were full of him, setting off the mind-numbing intoxication he always seemed to knock her into.

Heck, bike accidents were a breeze compared to being in contact with Ramsey.

And that was what scared her.

Really, really bad.

* * *

There was more work to do than Jewel would have given rock stars credit for doing. Their arrival back at the hotel was brief, because the Toxsin crew was in full swing, preparing to depart for the arena. There was a neat line of black SUVs lined up to ferry the crew. Syon and Drake were waiting inside the lobby as hotel security stood in front of the huge revolving doors to keep the paparazzi outside. They were camped out on the sidewalk like a flock of pigeons.

Actually…they were far more aggressive than pigeons, Jewel decided. More like the flocks of sulphur-crested cockatoos in Australia. Brenton slid up as they climbed out of the car.

“Everything alright?” he asked.

“No,” Ramsey said.

“Stellar,” Jewel replied at the same time. Ramsey scowled at her, but Taz snorted behind her. Ramsey gave his bandmate an open-hand gesture that Jewel was pretty sure meant “What the fuck?”

“Can you make the sound check?” Brenton asked.

There was a definite business demeanor in the air. Ramsey looked at her. He felt responsible for her, and she could see that it wasn’t sitting too well.

“I’ll be here…when you’re finished,” she offered, not entirely sure why she was feeling the need to smooth out the road. The impulse was just there, and the words passed her lips before she realized what she intended to do.

Ramsey nodded. “Stay inside the hotel. I need to clue you in on how we roll. So you don’t walk into trouble.”

“Got it.”

The line of SUVs had been making steady progress. Pulling up, filling, and departing. Ramsey whistled at Syon, Taz, and Drake before the four of them fell into step together and left the lobby. They were lean and covered in leather. Even without their eyeliner, their personas were raw and over the top. The flock of waiting paparazzi surged forward, lifting their cameras and recording devices. Some of them were even perched on top of their parked cars to get a better camera angle. Questions were shouted out, the hotel security pushing people back who tried to step into Toxsin’s path. Private security held open the doors of the SUV as the band members climbed in.

“Now that is the way to go to work.” She turned, making her way to the elevators.

But she stopped two steps inside her room. There was an easel set up with a chair and a spotlight. Her sketch pad was resting on it, the unfinished piece just begging for attention.

She didn’t ignore the call. It was like it was bottled up inside her, trapped behind her fascination with Ramsey. Only today, things were slightly different; she felt everything shifting and merging. She flipped the page and started a new piece, letting the extreme passion Ramsey triggered in her flow through her hand and onto the page.

* * *

“That’s a wrap, mates!”

Ramsey set his guitar down, but not before he wiped the face of it off. The one-of-a-kind instrument was his prized possession, his drug of choice.

The arena was full of union workers, securing the seats as others hung curtains around the walls for better sound acoustics. There was a team above them in the lighting, taking notes on the rehearsal.

Ramsey let out a whistle. Syon did an about-face and came back toward him, Taz following. Drake crawled out from behind his drums to join them.

“Quinn Morcant is already trying to contract Jewel.”

Syon snorted. “He doesn’t waste any time.”

“Is that who ran her off the road?” Taz demanded.

“What the fuck?” Drake exclaimed.

Ramsey shook his head. “Morcant’s a lot of things, but he knows business. He wouldn’t take a risk on Jewel being injured in something like that. Artists need their fingers. But the man’s reputation as an iron fist tends to drive those attempting to impress him to extreme lengths.”

“You can bet he’s made good use of the time we’ve been here,” Syon said. “Bet he’s had a proposal delivered to her room.”

Ramsey scowled. Brenton had joined them. “We should think about getting that art copyrighted. As it stands, Jewel has the rights to sell it. I’ll get Carl Pearson on it.”

Brenton stepped back and pulled out his phone. It was the wise thing to do. The business-minded one. Logical.

Jewel wasn’t going to like it.

Ramsey tried to brush the thought aside, but it clung like static electricity, crackling when he tried to wipe it free and shocking him. But he got it, deep in his gut. The dragon was her baby, her creation. He knew what it felt like to push something out of his soul and see other businessmen like Morcant try and lock it up in legal mumbo jumbo.

“You good with that?”

Ramsey had to look at Syon for a moment before he shifted gears enough to respond to the question.

“Yeah. Makes sense,” he replied. Not liking it didn’t mean he was going to let the dragon go. She’d made it for him. It was going to stay between them. She’d have to agree to joint custody. Because there was no way he was letting her do another one of them for anyone else. The thought pissed him off.

“You look a little unsure,” Syon pressed.

Ramsey shrugged. It was a habit, shrugging off inquiries he didn’t want to answer. His bandmates knew him well enough to recognize it.

That served only to make him feel unmasked. It was unexpected. His gaze shifted back toward his guitar as he polished it to avoid the knowing looks of his buddies.

Hell, they were so much more. They were the only ones on the face of the planet who understood him.

And then, there was Jewel. With her desire to see him as something more than who he put out to the masses. It should have been pathetically simple to dismiss her ideas. Hell, he should be immune to caring about what people thought of him. His entire childhood had been an ongoing litany of lectures on his shortcomings. Tossing in the towel on giving a shit had saved what was left of his sanity and likely kept him out of a psychiatric ward.

“It’s interview time, lads.”

Brenton was back, the road manager performing his function of keeping them all on task.

“Just enough time for a little makeup before the local stations get a crack at you for preshow publicity.”