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The luggage arrived, and the boys settled into their suites. The band’s creative team, including stylists for hair and makeup, had arrived prior to us. Harlow was acting PR on the trip, so he was already on his phone, preparing for the days ahead.
Everyone had a couple of hours to nap, eat, and then change.
The band and all security were situated on the penthouse level, with Iain and I at the end of the hallway, near the stairwell and the elevators. Brodie and Van were next to me, and Ronin and Faise were at the other end of the floor, with my team sharing the surrounding rooms.
By five that evening, rested and recharged, we were on our way into the heart of the city for a TV interview at a major French news station.
But Iain still looked pale and quieter than his usual self.
Instead of sitting up front, I switched with Lennie and sat beside Iain.
It was only a ten-minute car ride to our first stop.
I pulled a brand-new phone out of my jacket pocket and offered it to Iain.
“Your new cell. We’ve already programmed the numbers for our entourage and transferred data and photos. Don’t give this number out to anyone outside of our group. No one unless I vet them first. Understood?”
“Yup.”
Iain’s terse reply and lack of eye contact chafed, but I ignored it.
He was unhappy with our connecting rooms, but there was nothing to be done.
Regan agreed with my plan, and we’d started investigating those text messages. How this unknown person got Iain’s number, I had no idea. I could only assume it was eithersomeone in his inner circle, which was highly disturbing, or a past lover. So far, there were no direct threats against Iain—or anyone close to him—so it was pointless to go to the police.
We’d need his full cooperation to review everyone in his life, and I couldn’t see that conversation going well either.
He could sulk all he wanted. What did I care? I had a job to do.
I wasn’t here as his friend.
And that painful knot in my stomach was back.
Truthfully, even though Iain drove me nuts, there was something about him that I was drawn to. I was sure that Iain felt more deeply than even his friends realized.
And people with sensitive hearts were the ones I wanted to protect the most.
Iain slowly took the phone from me and placed it in the pocket of his black leather jacket. He had on dark baggy jeans that rode low on his hips. Black patent cowboy booties and a ripped T-shirt completed the look, along with several silver bracelets and earrings. His hair was loose, but the band’s stylist had done something different to it. The waves were bigger, tousled, you know, kinda messy. Sexy as hell is what he was. Like he’d just rolled out of bed after a long night of fucking…
I had to stop that line of thinking right now.
Iain sighed. “You’re staring.”
“You’re hot.”
Every conversation in the vehicle came to a sudden silence.
“I mean, it’s hot. In here. It’s hot in here,” I stammered.
Thank God I wore black because I was starting to sweat through my T-shirt and jacket.
Jesus, Daws.Get a hold of yourself.
“Len, turn the heat down,” I barked.
“It’s not on,” Lennie replied with barely restrained laughter in his voice.
I was never gonna live this down.
