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1ST CHAPTER - MATCHMAKING THE SINGER AND THE WARRIOR
Chapter One
Gray Denizen, Smokey G to most of the world, sat in the steaming hot tub on the deck of his Wengen rental home overlooking the picturesque, snow-covered Lauterbrunnen Valley in the Swiss Alps. The sun had set while he marinated in the water and the valley of seventy waterfalls, the real home of the Hobbit, was now just some twinkling lights far below. He loved it here. He wanted to come back in the summer and hike, bike, and soar down the mountain slopes with a parasail, see it green and flowering instead of covered with mounds of snow. It was insanely beautiful with its blanket of snow, he could only imagine the mystical beauty of this area lush and green.
The snow skiing for Christmas had been insane, but all of his friends had gone back to “real life”. They loved to tease him that his life was a vacation, but Gray’s life was his work. He loved composing songs and recording them. He didn’t love the endless travel, performing in front of huge and raucous crowds, or all the details involved with social media, media, and being afraid any word he spoke might get misconstrued.
He’d finished his European tour right before Christmas and sent his staff and assistant, Janie, home for the holidays. Instead of going to his house on the Fort Lauderdale intercoastal he’d decided to beg some friends to come here. Janie had found this unreal mountainside village, only accessible by train or helicopter. He’d had to opt for the helicopter simply to keep a fan from seeing him and letting it slip where he was. Apparently he was in danger. He was always in danger, had been since childhood so it didn’t bother him much.
The few single friends, who hadn’t bit the marriage bullet, and he trusted not to post on social media or brag about spending Christmas with him, had met him here. They’d skied the famed Wengen, Grindelwald, and Jungfrau resorts. Incredible. And he’d been able to stay incognito with helmet, goggles, and a face shield on. No Russian mafia busting through the door to ruin the holidays.
But now he was semi-alone. He was used to his assistant Janie, his cook Liam, his personal trainer Joseph, his two incredible housekeepers Quincy and Nellie, plus millions of fans looking for any opportunity to talk to, stare at, or touch him. It was odd to have true peace and quiet. His security guys were still here, led and trained by his trusted stepdad, Russ.
The four tough men claimed they had to stay with him. There’d been some backlash about him helping a beautiful woman escape her Russian mafia-affiliated boyfriend so now his security team refused to leave his side. Apparently even if you were a famous billionaire singer you didn’t mess with the Russian mafia. What was the good of being famous and wealthy if you couldn’t right some wrongs in the world?
He swirled the hot water between his fingers. He should get out, fix himself something to eat, read, and go to bed. In a few days he’d fly to Grand Cayman and his staff would meet him there. They’d have two weeks to relax on the beach, which usually meant beach runs, lifting weights, and long hours working on new song lyrics. He’d start a short five-stop tour of the Caribbean Islands after that. He thought he wanted these few days after Christmas to decompress, but peace and quiet alone wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
He liked all his security guards but with twelve hour shifts of either monitoring the cameras they’d set up in the basement or doing their rounds inside and outside the house they only had twelve hours off to exercise, run get groceries or supplies, or have a tiny bit of free time. He tried not to bug them during their moments off, unless they’d spar or lift with him.
Great guys, most especially his stepdad Captain Russell Brown. He loved and respected Russ above anyone in this world. He knew retired Marine felt the same, but he wasn’t exactly a profuse or friendly person. Tim, Kaden, and Cameron were each twenty years younger than Russ give or take a few years. They were all willing to go pickup dinner, help keep things clean without the housekeepers here, have a conversation with him, or work out with him, but none of them were big on brainstorming song lyrics, or discussing the latest clean romance novel he was reading. He smiled to himself, not that he’d admit he read clean romance to anyone.
A thud came from around the side of the house. Gray straightened, staring that direction, but with the low lights glowing through the three-story windows behind him he couldn’t see anything. A dart of apprehension made the hot tub feel even hotter. Had the Russian mafia somehow found out where he was? The house had been rented in an umbrella company’s name that wasn’t affiliated with his name at all, and he hadn’t so much as gone to dinner or anywhere besides skiing, where his face was completely covered.
He’d waved to Tim a few minutes ago as he’d walked by the side of the massive patio through one of the trails he and the guys had dug into the deep snow. The backside of the patio dropped off into nothingness so at least there was one angle that couldn’t be approached.
Scrambling out of the hot tub, his bare feet hit the cold patio and steam rose from his body. His body temperature was high enough from his soak and the quickening of his pulse that he welcomed the piercing cold air.
Not bothering with the stack of towels, he hurried to the edge of the patio where Tim should be, and tried to peer into the darkness. If there was trouble, more of his men would come running, but Gray knew he was way around a fight. He’d been raised in East L.A. and he’d learned young how to keep him and his mom safe from thugs, and his own father.
“Tim?” he questioned.
A small person sprang out of the darkness and knocked him flat on his back. Gray bucked his body and rolled, holding onto the person’s arms and pinning his assailant underneath his much larger frame.
His attacker was a … woman. His eyes widened. An exquisitely beautiful woman. He could only stare in shock as she smiled sweetly up at him, her blue eyes lit with mischief and her smooth skin crinkling at the edges or her lips and her eyes. Her gorgeous smile conveyed she was ecstatic he was pinning her down.
He felt a rush of desire fill him that was completely out of line for the situation. This woman had attacked him. He should be afraid, or at least annoyed. Was she an ultra-fan, affiliated with someone who was targeting him, or a completely different kind of danger to him? There were sparks swirling between them and her small frame underneath him felt really, really nice. He listened for other sounds, but the night was still. Was she alone? Where were his men? Even if she’d bested Tim, which was highly unlikely, someone would’ve seen on the cameras this woman knocking Gray down. They should be bursting out the patio door with guns drawn.
“Well, hello handsome,” she was slightly out of breath, probably because he was twice her size and pinning her down, but he liked the sound of her voice and the breathlessness of it. “I liked the reversal. Don’t tell anyone I let you get away with that. I do have a reputation of ruthlessness to uphold.”
He almost laughed at her smart-aleck response, but he realized immediately … This woman wasn’t a fan or dangerous to him. He knew this woman and he really shouldn’t be feeling sparks of desire, or pinning down this famous and very happily married woman. Why was Scarlett Lily sneaking onto his back patio and knocking him down when she should be in California with her husband and son? It was out of character for her to flirt with or tease anyone besides her husband.
“Scarlett?” he questioned, easing off of her, standing, and offering a hand up. She took his hand and stood easily, still grinning at him.
