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remind me of any cologne either. Most guys I’d had a chance to sniff wore cooler scents.

Maybe his aftershave? If I didn’t find out what that smell was I’d go crazy.

“For getting me out of there.”

He shrugged, which caused his shoulder to rub against mine. I willed myself not to

shudder in delight. Was this what being up close and personal with a sexy rock god felt like?

The blushing host came to mind. I didn’t even think Luka was doing it on purpose.

“It’s not the first time someone burst into tears during a performance.” For the first time

since I started showing him the photos, Luka removed his intent gaze from my camera’s

screen to settle those eyes on me again. “Did you like the song?”

Without really thinking, I said, “I was so caught up in the moment I just kept hearing the

chorus. I didn’t know you could sing.”

“Everyone in Vicious can sing.” His gaze dropped to my lips for a moment, and as if some

Pavlovian experiment was in effect, I licked my bottom lip. “We just prefer Phoenix’s voice.

The audience seems to respond well to her, too.”

“Why the sudden change then?” Tiny dots of sweat rose over my upper lip. Luka leaned in

so closely I had to ask myself when the last time I waxed up there was.

Just when I wanted him to bridge the rest of the five inches left between us, Luka leaned

back and crossed his arms. He was shutting down again, and I didn’t know how to feel about

it. Before I could open my mouth to ask him about the sudden tension, the SUV stopped and

Eli got out. He opened the door for Luka like he did at Sutcliff Center and Luka slid out. This time, he didn’t reach in for me. He just stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked away.

I scrambled out of the car after him.

We were in a small alley lined with dumpsters. Steam rose from grates on the ground.

Luka knocked on a metal back door. A rectangular peephole slid to the side then shut just as

quickly. The door opened. Luka stepped in, still not looking back at me. As I followed him

through the threshold, I got the feeling I’d said something he didn’t like. I just asked him

about the change. It seemed like a safe question. I mean, he just went on national TV and

sang in front of millions. By now Twitter must be exploding about the new Vicious single

sung by none other than the bassist.

We stepped into a long hallway covered in blood velvet wall paper with stencils of golden

dragons and chrysanthemums. Wall sconces were our only source of light. The dimness

wreaked havoc on my eyesight. I lost my balance twice, my shoulder slamming against the

wall of the narrow passage. Thankfully, the thick carpeting muffled my steps. I didn’t want

Luka knowing I couldn’t walk straight because of my iffy depth perception.

About ten more agonizing steps later, the hallway opened to an empty dining room. Tables

in neat rows lined the entire space. Some had four chairs while others had two. Semi-circle

booths occupied both walls. A long bar stretched along one end of the room. Crisp, white

table clothes covered all the tables. Dark wood paneling weighted the place down, in my

opinion. A woman in an extremely tight, extremely short black dress graced us with a red-

lipped smile. She greeted Luka and led him toward a booth without giving me a second

glance. Bitch!

Not wanting to cause a scene, I followed after them. Luka scooted into the booth and

looked up at me, waiting. I took the opposite end and set my camera at one corner of the half-

moon table. The hostess handed Luka a menu but didn’t hand me one.

I cleared my throat and said in my most saccharin tone, “Excuse me. Can you pass me a

menu as well?”

She flicked an annoyed glance my way before swaying her hips away at what I hoped was

to fetch my menu.

With no one else in the elegantly outfitted restaurant with us, I confronted Luka. “Did I

say something wrong?”

“Why would you think that?” he asked back, perusing the menu.

I leaned in and grabbed the thing out of his hands. “Because of the sudden cold shoulder.”

He blinked my way, clearly caught off guard by my menu grabbing ways. “Look, I get that

you’re used to getting what you want and you only answer when you want too, but you can’t

go around acting like a child just because you’re asked something you don’t like to answer. If you don’t want to answer then say so and I’ll drop the matter.” The words just flowed out of

my mouth without censorship. If he didn’t like it, then tough. “Childishness is such an

unattractive quality in a guy.”

Luka lifted a fist to his lips and snickered. He was fighting not to laugh so hard that his

shoulders shook from the effort. I slapped the table so hard, the tiny vase with a stem of

white orchids clattered.

“What’s so funny?”

My question broke the dam. Luka laughed in earnest now. The hostess returned with my

menu. Then when she asked if we were ready to order, Luka just ignored her and kept

laughing. I shook my head at her and she sashayed away, blatant lust in her eyes for the guy

sitting across the table from me. I guess I should get used to those stares. Luka didn’t seem to mind them.

Having had enough of his laughter, I leaned back and crossed my arms the way he did

when he shut down. “I’m serious, Luka. I’m here because I want to photograph Vicious, but if

you’re going to close yourself off just because things get uncomfortable for you then you

might as well release me from my contract. It’s not too late.”

That got him to stop. He resettled into his seat and said, “I wrote that song while on our

world tour. It didn’t seem to fit Phoenix’s voice, so I decided, what the hell, I’ll sing it.

Demitri didn’t like the idea at first but when I showed him the song he eventually agreed.”

And the surprises kept on coming. Did Luka just answer my question flat out?

“Now, was this before or after the rumored meltdown?” I meant the follow up as a joke,

but all laughter had left the building.

Luka’s expression darkened. “Don’t ruin our lunch with silly questions, Dakota.”

The finality in his statement shocked me for a second. If he really didn’t want to talk about

it, fine. I could respect that. So I went in a different direction.

Passing back his menu and lifting my own, I glanced at the food selection. “What’s good

here?”

“It’s Italian Japanese fusion, but if there’s something you want that’s not on the menu I’m

sure Kurt can cook you up anything.”

My eyebrow rose. “Kurt?”

“The chef de cuisine,” Luka said like he personally knew the guy. I got the distinct feeling

he did. Rock star, much?

Shaking my head, I returned my attention at the menu. “What’s Crunchy Kani Maki?”

“It’s a sushi roll made of rice, crabstick, and caviar sprinkled with fried tempura batter. It has shredded crabstick mixed in Japanese mayo on top.”

Not knowing what the hell half those things were, I went to a safer option. “I think I’ll

have the cream of mushroom pasta.”

This time it was Luka who raised an eyebrow at me. “And I thought you didn’t want to

eat?”

I thought so too, but now that we were in a restaurant, my stomach grumbled and

threatened to revolt if I didn’t feed it. “That and I want to try their Jasmine Iced Tea.”

Raising his hand in the air brought the return of our slut hostess. Luka made the orders

and surrendered our menus to the woman. Before she left, she pinned me again with one of

her bitch stares.
Yes, lady, he’s sitting with a girl with an eye patch. Deal with it.

“Why do I get the feeling she’ll spit on my food?” I slumped back into the upholstered

booth bench.

“Kurt wouldn’t allow that.” Luka leaned in and traced his fingertip over the lip of an empty

wine glass. “So, why photography?”

Okay and I thought my questions for him were hard. Technically, what he asked was

something quite normal. It just skated around sore territory for me. So I gave him my generic

answer.

“I have this desire to see the world through the lens of a camera.”

“Is that before or after you lost your eye?”

I let out a huff and frowned.

“Not so easy when it’s your turn isn’t it?”

Damn. I hated how right he was. So I turned the tables around. “What about you? Why a

band? I’m pretty sure you could be anything you want.”

“You’re referring to me being a student at Barinkoff?”

I nodded. I knew next to nothing about the school. “Is it really a super exclusive—”

“School where the best and the brightest in the world attend?” he finished for me. “Yes.

And to answer your question, it’s because I needed an outlet for my anger.”

Well, now, I didn’t expect that answer. “Anger?”

He shrugged as if we talked about how blue the sky was. “You see, I come from a family

where there’s a lot of expectation to succeed. Without boring you with the details, I rebelled by picking the least likely acceptable profession. I loved writing poetry so that quickly

translated into writing songs.”

“What about Demitri and the rest of the band?”

“Being my cousin, much was expected of Demitri as well. He used to have a stick up his

ass a mile long. Rocking out mellowed him a bit, if you can believe it. And all those tattoos

are recent additions. I caught him strumming a guitar and suggested forming a band to piss

off our parents. Dray soon followed. Yana used to be our lead singer, but she didn’t like the

role as much as she liked bossing us around.”

I giggled. “I can see that.”

My response coaxed a shy smile from Luka. Using quick reflexes, I captured the moment

before it disappeared. Who knows when it would happen again?

Luka chuckled. “You really treat that camera like an extra limb, don’t you?”

My gaze dropped to my constant companion. The only thing in my life that truly

understood me. I didn’t know why, but I said, “After I lost my eye, my camera became like my

window to the world. I wouldn’t trade what I see through its lens for anything else.”

“Even for your eyesight back?”

The seriousness of the question took me aback. I had to think about it for a long minute.

Would I really trade my camera for a chance to get my eye back? I shook my head.

“I can’t really change what’s happened. There’s no point in speculating,” I said, returning

my camera to its corner of the table. That was when the hostess returned with our food. The

steaming plates seemed unmolested. Luka dug into his wasabi burger just as I took a sip of

my iced tea. The sweetness of the jasmine slid down my throat and I smiled.

“God! This is
so
good.”

At my words, Luka reached over and took the glass from me. In stunned silence, I watched

his lips wrap around the straw I’d just sipped from. My throat closed, closely followed by a

deep ache from somewhere deep inside me wanting to be filled.

“You’re right,” Luka said, breaking the spell he cast. “I want one.”

But from the way he looked at me, all molten blue eyes like that, I wasn’t sure if he’d

meant the iced tea or something else.

Maybe
someone
else.

Oh God. This was gonna be a very long thirty days.

Chapter Ten

Manor

I can’t breathe. Every inhalation feels like a flash fire burning its way down my throat into

my already singed lungs. Still I keep running. And running.

Low hanging branches scratch my arms and legs, leaving a bloody trail behind me. My

dress is in tatters. Jagged rocks lacerate the underside of my bare feet. Only the adrenaline

pumping through my veins and desperation keep me going. I fight through the pain to get

away. Yet the large hands continue to grope for me.

Rugged panting from behind spurs me on. He’s getting winded.
Just a little more
. If I hold on just a little more I can definitely get away. The growing darkness in the forest makes it

hard to see. Soon, I won’t know my arms from a tree trunk.

An owl hoots in the distance. Its call echoes in the expanse of the woods.

The hands tangle into my hair. A swift yank and I’m flying back. I scream.

I opened my eye with a gasp. My cheek rested against a broad shoulder. A long-fingered

hand, the kind amazing at plucking instrument strings, squeezed my thigh. A simple silver

ring encircled each finger. My heart immediately jumped to my throat. If that hand moved a

few inches up, its thumb would enter private territory.

In my sleep haze, it took me a moment to get my bearings. The crunch of wheels on gravel

woke me further. I pushed up from the shoulder and immediately reached for my patch. Only

when I knew it remained tightly on did I let a modicum of relief escape my lungs.

“When did I pass out?” I asked, discretely checking the shoulder for any wet spots and

swiping my fingers over the corners of my mouth. Dry. Good. I hadn’t drooled on what

Rolling Stone named one of the hottest rising stars under thirty in the music industry.

“Right around the time we left Testino’s,” Luka said, keeping his gaze out the window.

“That’s the last time I’m letting you ply me with divinely creamy pasta for lunch.” I inched

away from him, but his hand on my thigh kept me from moving too far.

“I distinctly remember you enjoying yourself immensely.”

“Yeah, adding a shot of vodka to the jasmine tea will do that to a person.” I checked my

head. No hangover. Huh. I must not have drunk as much as I’d thought, and at lunch no less.