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“I think you had something to do with that.”
He wrapped his arms tighter around her and rolled her on top of him. “I think I did too. Did you like it?”
“I like everything about you Rand Mainline. I always have.”
I can live with ‘like’. I can make ‘like’ work. He said, “I loved you, Harry Young, when you were just a little smart, shy thing and I didn’t know what love was. I love you now you’re clever and worldly, and we both understand heartache. I’ll love you when you’re wrinkly and cranky too and, even when you wise up to me, take half my fortune and throw me out—I’ll still love you.”
“If I ever threw you out, Rie would put a contract out on me, so you’re safe from that one.”
He chuckled. “Rie would take you out herself.”
“I love you too, Rand.” He sucked in a breath and held it and she smoothed her hand across his brow. “I don’t understand how it’s happened, but I can’t be without you now.”
“Are you sure? Because if you’re not, it’s okay. I’ll just write lots of appalling crap about broken hearts for the rest of my life.”
“I’m sure then, because that would be a terrible waste of your talents.”
“I’m going to need reminding.”
She slid down his length so that she could plant kisses on his chest. “I’ll have it tattooed somewhere for you.”
He grinned, twitched under her searching tongue, his fingers carving into her hair, “You’ll need to find the right place.”
She said, “Mmhm,” between her nips and licks, and in his head the angel choir sang them home.
Rielle gave Stu a shove. “He’ll be here. When has he ever let us down?” Typical, Stu would be the one to complain.
“How about yesterday?” he drawled.
“Yesterday was fine. Totally optional for Rand and if you were so worried about me doing the interviews on my own you could’ve stepped in.”
“Not unless we wanted to build a reputation for the worst radio interview ever,” said Roley. That stopped the squabble, but earned Roley icy stares from both of them. He pantomimed surrender. “Sheesh, I’m just saying.”
Stu regarded Roley. “Always just doing something aren’t you.” He caught him in a headlock, resulting in a noisy scuffle in the hotel reception where they waited. He gave Roley’s gelled head a rub with his open palm, knotted his hair and released him suddenly, making him stagger backwards, almost smacking into Rand and Harry on their way in—hand in hand.
How saw it too and brok
e into song: Gaga, muscle trucks and stakes through the heart.
Rielle felt happiness flow over her like sunshine. Rand looked so pleased with himself. Harry looked so split between proud and embarrassed at the attention they were getting. The noise they’d made had half the staff and guests in the lobby clocking their antics, the singing made them the centre of attention.
“Thank you, Lady Gaga,” said Rand with a laugh.
How took an extravagant bow combining it with an Elvis Presley style “Thankyouverymuch.”
The next thing Rand said was, “Ooof,” when Rielle punched him in the solar plexus. Getting on Rand’s case was her job not Stu’s.
“That’s for leaving me with the media crap—twice.”
He straightened up and wheezed. “You do want me to be able to walk and talk for the broadcast right?”
She flipped him the bird. “I can live without it.”
Roley said, “Right, everything back to normal then.”
Seeing Rielle’s punch made Jake smile. After yesterday’s strained mood, she was back in rock diva mode and raring to go. She wore the tightest pair of blue jeans he’d ever seen, slung low on her hips with a studded belt. Getting into them must have required a contortionist’s skills, or oil, or both. The edge and straps of her red lace bra peaked out deliberately from her white fitted top which left a good portion of her concave belly on display. Her heels were dangerously high, her lips provocatively red. With sparks in her eyes and fire on her tongue, she damn near took his breath away.
He’d spent much of last night trying to solve the puzzle of Rielle. Trying to figure out his reaction to her. It was a shock to realise how harshly he’d judged her, how unfair he’d been about who she was and how she wanted the world to see her.
