Kitabı oku: «Come Undone», sayfa 2
Dani’s lips parted in a gasp. For the first time in her life, she understood what it meant to melt, too feel so drawn to another human being that she lost control of even the most basic functions. All at once she was too jittery and hot; molten with arousal and terrified and ashamed too.
Oh, man – he smelled fab too, of good old-fashioned body scent, liberally mixed with a spritz of something expensive for men. Now it made sense why women like Ginny went to such effort to meet him, and why they were prepared to throw their morals to the wind and romp like wild things with a total stranger.
She could even picture herself sprawled across some hotel bed with him, having crazy sex.
‘Are you all right? Lost?’ He sounded pissed off, something his brittle smile corroborated. Yet Dani’s brain only processed the fact that his speaking voice was much softer than she’d anticipated, and lacked any hint of his trademark growl.
Realising she was still gaping at him, she took a moment to close her mouth. She wasn’t lost, just dazzled.
The painful bite of Xane’s claw rings restored her sanity. She coughed and straightened herself.
Xane kept his hand on her shoulder. ‘Sally?’ he said, as he lifted the backstage pass to read her name. Even hidden by opaque contact lenses, his eyes were still shrewdly intelligent as he gave her face and body a quick, appreciative sweep. ‘Were you looking for me?’ His eyebrows arched meaningfully.
‘Yes. I mean, no. I was trying to get through to the arena so I could watch the show.’
They maintained eye contact, because Dani couldn’t wrench her gaze away.
For a split second Xane’s scowl transformed into a smile. ‘The show’s over, honey. I don’t think you want to go out there.’
‘I don’t? Already?’
He rubbed his thumb across the part of her ID that said PR. ‘I’d stay back here. Safer, until you’ve a statement worked out.’
A statement! What was she supposed to give a statement about? And how was it she’d managed to miss the entire show? It wasn’t supposed to be over yet. Although now she thought about it, the roadies did appear to be packing up. ‘W–what happened?’ If she’d been an actual PR person she’d have been in full-on flap right about now. The woman whose pass she wore probably was. Ginny ought never to have taken her card.
Xane shook his head. ‘Sally.’ He snagged hold of the lanyard again, forcing her to meet his gaze. This was it. She was busted. He was going to yell for security and have her unceremoniously dumped out back. ‘Do you drive?’
‘A car, you mean?’ Why was this important? ‘Yes. I drove to the show.’
His lips quirked up at one corner, forming a rehearsed smile, which nevertheless had her creaming her knickers.
‘Good. Then you can get me out of here.’
Chapter 4
‘Xane. Hold up, man.’ Ash stopped him just before he hit the tarmac, by making a starfish impersonation across the exit. His original intention might have been noble – Ash, like Xane, only had one commitment in life and that was the band – but his best intentions went bye-bye as he checked out the girl.
Hell knows who she really was. For definite she wasn’t Sally Kettering, prize battle-axe and PR fiend extraordinaire. Sally had never looked half so hot. Most of the time she barely looked human, and in her case that primarily wasn’t down to stage make-up. He’d made sure Sally had plenty of work to do tonight, a fact she’d no doubt fry him for later.
This girl, now – she was exactly the right mix of hot, indecisive and innocent to get Ash completely jacked up. Pretty oval face, with big wide-set brown eyes and a slightly top-heavy figure, coupled with a fearfully delicate smile. Admittedly, pretty much anything that moved and was ostensibly female captured Ash’s interest. The lead guitarist got laid more often than the rest of the group put together, and none of them went short in that respect. The others weren’t quite such bastards about it, though. Ash liked to get his kink on, turn them out and move straight on to the next one. He consumed women in the same way he consumed booze. He’d take whatever was on offer, as long as it went down well.
The reason Xane insisted on individual hotel suites and his own tour bus wasn’t just because he needed solitude in order to compose. It saved him from being irate at Ash twenty-four seven. Patting Ash’s rejects on the back and seeing them on their way got horribly tedious. Nor did he care for the constant reminder of what his life had once been like. It wasn’t so very long ago that he’d shown similarly indiscriminate tastes. That’d changed in recent times. Having found himself a comfortable arrangement, he hadn’t felt the need to wander.
‘Hadn’t’ – the word rang in his head like a leper’s bell. He tried to shut down the thought before it doubled him over, but failed miserably. His relationship was in tatters, and what he needed right now was a hell of a lot of something to deaden the pain.
When the hell would he learn his lesson? Just because someone whispered words of love into your ear after they fucked you didn’t mean they meant it. It didn’t mean you could trust them. People said one thing and then did another all the time. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know that. It just hurt like fuck to accept it.
Xane kept his fists curled tight. It wasn’t very manly, but curling into a ball and sobbing until he was hoarse really appealed right now. Except he was too damned angry to cry, and he refused to shed a tear over that bastard and bitch.
Not that it was purely the Steve-and-Elspeth situation riling him. It was the contempt too. The fact that the rest of the band valued him so little they thought it was no big deal for him to be treated like this.
Well, it was time people started accepting that their actions had repercussions. If you pissed on the same fire often enough it went out. And right now he felt thoroughly pissed on.
‘Where you headed?’ Ash enquired nonchalantly, as though there were nothing amiss.
Xane put his arm around the girl’s shoulders. Beneath her skin, her pulse raced excitedly. She probably thought she’d won herself a grand old prize, when she couldn’t have been more wrong.
‘Sally and I are going for a drive.’
That got him a response. Ash raised both beetle-black brows in disbelief. The girl stiffened too, so much so that Xane almost withdrew his hold. It seemed the idea of getting lewd and crude with him hadn’t actually been front and centre in her thoughts. She looked up at him in stunned disbelief.
‘Really?’ Ash raked his gaze over the girl’s body from her tits to the hem of her very short skirt. ‘I know I’m always on at you to branch out more, but is now really the best time? Shouldn’t you be hashing it out with them?’
Xane flicked the tip of his tongue against the silver ring through his lip. ‘To what purpose? Everything that needs saying has already been said.’
Ash hunched his shoulders so high he was in danger of piercing his ears with the spikes on his jacket. ‘Dammit, Xane, nothing’s been said at all! It was a dumb situation to get yourself in, and it’s even dumber now. You ought to be glad you’re out of it.’
‘’Cause you’d know all about what’s best for me.’
‘I know you should have waited until the gig was over before you started your pity party.’
Yeah, and Elspeth should have held her bloody tongue until the show was done, but he didn’t suppose Ash had bothered to yell at her.
Xane moved closer to the door. His public image might be as a hard man of rock, but not even he could perform a death growl with his throat choked up and a six-foot incision in his chest.
Ash shifted to one side but slouched against the doorframe, forcing them to step over his legs to get out. ‘I’ll be in touch tomorrow. We need to talk things through.’
They didn’t need to talk about jack. Black Halo was done in its current form. ‘Whatever.’ Xane pulled his saviour into the rain.
After the heat of the arena, the cold outside came as a surprise. Xane kept hold of the girl as much for warmth as to maintain the façade that he intended to get laid. Sex was not what he needed right now. With his soul already flayed he didn’t need someone else’s expectations and emotions complicating things. And the thing about fans – which is what he gathered she was – was that they all thought they knew him, having memorised a few bits of trivia. Not only that, but they assumed, because they ‘knew’ him and loved him, he’d feel the same way in return.
He never did. They weren’t people he’d call friends. They had no life experiences in common with him. The only commonality was the music, and even then they didn’t experience it in the same way. To them it was a product; something packaged, shiny and complete. Whereas he birthed the damn stuff, taking lyrics either he or Spook had written and then scratching out the chords and rhythms that filled his head. He worked at it, transformed and nurtured it, until he had something good.
‘How far are we going?’ he asked, growing tired of the cold.
Ahead of them the car park formed a vast dark stain on the horizon, relieved only by the rainbow hues of oil-slicked puddles. Xane lifted his hand to his face to brush back his hair, whereupon streaks of kohl ran into the grooves between his fingers. ‘Where did you say you were parked?’
‘I didn’t.’ She gave him a tight smile. ‘It’s this way. I’m not in the main car park. It was full. I had to settle for a side street.’
He followed the clack of her heels for what felt like miles, while watching the sway of her butt. He’d lay money on her only dressing like this for special occasions. The clothes didn’t sit easily on her back. She was so knotted with tension she seemed in danger of snapping something. Her hemline especially was giving her issues. Her small hands constantly smoothed the cloth.
Jeans and T’s, he predicted as her usual attire. Maybe the occasional floral dress that turned her into a frump.
Xane almost fed her a corny line about how great she looked in order to get her to relax, and because even in his piss-poor mood he could acknowledge she was a knockout. The dark colours suited her peaches-and-cream complexion, while the tight cut emphasised her natural hourglass curves.
Of course, he also considered the possibility that he and not the outfit was the source of her distress. She wouldn’t be the first woman who’d landed lovely foul-mouthed him instead of kinkmeister Spook or everyone’s sweetheart, Paul.
He caught her looking back at the lights of the stadium and decided it was definitely a case of wrong-guy syndrome. Well, she was going to be doubly pissed off when she realised that not only had she landed the booby prize, but he wasn’t interested in making out. His only plan for the night was to get home and get blotto.
If that made him a bastard, then so be it.
At least he’d saved her from being screwed by Ash. Not that she’d ever thank him for it.
‘This is it.’ She stopped under a street lamp, part way along the sort of side road he’d think twice about traversing in daylight.
The wind chased the strands of her now dripping dark-brown hair across her face, giving her a solemn, slight ethereal look. She was different from the sort of girls who normally offered to take him places, but then she hadn’t actually offered, only gone along with what he’d suggested – so far.
‘This is yours?’ He’d expected her to drive a girly city runabout, not a bloody enormous sedan. Maybe she wasn’t quite as inexperienced as she looked. Her whole image might be a sham to lure guys in. Half a mile down the road, she’d probably transform into some vampire bitch queen and suck him dry.
No matter, he’d take that chance just to be away from here.
Xane settled himself into the passenger seat, from where he checked her out for fangs. No evidence of them: she had small, neat white teeth.
She nervously fussed, making multiple checks before turning on the ignition.
A powerful rumble filled the vehicle.
‘Sorry.’ She slapped a finger across the CD power button, cutting his death growl off midway through one of the band’s earliest tracks. ‘I’m sorry.’ She backed up the car and proceeded to perform the slowest turn out of a parking space he’d ever experienced, but then he was used to Rock Giant slaloming the tour bus as though it were an Aston Martin and not a converted double-decker.
‘Been driving long?’
‘Six months. How about you?’
‘I can, but I don’t very often.’
‘I don’t suppose there’s much need when you’ve people to ferry you about.’
Was that a dig? He thought it might be.
‘Where are we headed?’ she asked as they approached the first junction. ‘You’re staying at the Whyteleaf, right?’
Wrong. He might have a room booked there, but he’d never intended to occupy it. Not when he had a bolthole within an hour’s drive.
‘May I?’ He pulled his phone from his pocket and jacked it into the port on her dashboard. It was the work of moments to feed his postcode into the satnav app and have it start bleating instructions. The grating female voice made him want to cut off his ears, but it beat him having to give directions. All he wanted to do was switch off and forget.
‘Is that thing reliable?’ she asked, casting it a dubious glance. ‘It’s not likely to direct me into a ditch, or get me to do U-turns in the middle of the motorway?’
‘That’s where common sense comes in,’ he said, ticking a finger against his head. ‘You have some, right?’ Though evidently very little if she was prepared to put up with him.
‘Not sure.’ She cast him a dark look. ‘I just agreed to give a lift to a guy who looks like an axe-murderer.’
Chapter 5
Dani tried to keep her eyes on the road, but her attention kept slipping sideward. Xane Geist was in her car.
Xane Geist, for Christ’s sake!
Insane.
She’d never imagined Ginny’s plan for them to meet the band would actually amount to anything. Of course, her friend would probably kill her the next time they met for running off with Xane. Dani rather wished her friend were here. Ginny would know what to do. Ginny wouldn’t have been driving at 50mph on the motorway because she was shit-scared of what came next. She’d probably have had the shirt off his back by now, and be well on the way to an orgasm.
Dani wasn’t nearly so bold. There’d been few men of any significance in her life. However, she knew enough about rock stars to guess where driving off with one was likely to go. The frightening bit being her apparent willingness to go along with it. She knew it wouldn’t mean anything to him. He probably had a different girl at each stop on the tour. For one night he’d get wicked with her, have his fun and then be on his way. Come morning, he probably wouldn’t even remember her name. Not that he knew her real name now.
Her experience would be very different. She’d remember tonight for ever, whatever happened. And there would be repercussions. She could already hear Sister Anna’s voice in her head pleading for her soul, like that batshit-crazy mom out of Carrie.
If the possibility of them discovering she’d attended the gig wasn’t bad enough – Black Halo were the devil’s own spawn – then confessing to sleeping with a band member would probably see her subjected to an exorcism.
She rubbed her right wrist against her thigh, and fought not to grimace over that very real possibility.
Dani sneaked a look at Xane, which instantly replaced her frown with a goofy grin. She still couldn’t believe it was him.
Xane was busy removing his cat’s-eye contact lenses. She’d always wondered what colour his eyes really were. She guessed she’d finally find out.
He turned, and caught her staring. Amusement flickered at the centre of two storm-grey eyes.
Dani hastily turned away.
‘Do you have any water?’
‘Um, yeah. In the footwell behind you. I don’t know if you’ll be able to reach.’ They both stretched to get it at the same time, bringing them into unexpectedly close contact. For a split second, his lips were level with hers and a mere inch away.
And, oh, my God, her libido abruptly revved up and started painting lewd pictures of what she’d like to do to the guy across the inside of her brain; like kissing him for starters, and tasting those crooked devil’s lips. Maybe peeling his clothes off or digging her fingernails into the pert cheeks of his butt.
Xane flicked the tip of his tongue against the ring in his lip. ‘Road,’ he reminded her. ‘I got it.’ He leaned back against the headrest, holding the bottle.
Yeah, road! She jerked upright in time to avoid drifting into the traffic occupying the middle lane. One guy beeped her, so Xane gave him the finger.
OK. She needed to concentrate. She didn’t want to be known as the girl who killed Xane Geist.
Xane popped the cap off the bottle and took a swig. He pulled a blister pack of pills from his jacket pocket and pressed out two white tabs.
‘Hey!’ she objected, as they went into his mouth, followed by another slug of water. ‘What are you doing? What are you taking?’
‘Calm down, Mum,’ he retaliated. ‘It’s legal. Here.’ He chucked the blister strip onto her lap. ‘There, you can check ’em out for yourself, make sure I’m being a good boy.’
Somehow, Dani managed to convince her fingers to uncurl from around the steering wheel to allow her to pick up the packet. ‘What is this?’ An unfamiliar brand name was embossed on the foil. ‘Are they painkillers or something?’
‘Nap time,’ he explained with a shrug and a yawn. He turned partly away from her and sank deeper into the seat with his knees drawn up. ‘Prod me when we arrive.’
‘You’re – you’re going to sleep?’ How far was he expecting her to drive?
‘Shh, don’t talk. I need to switch off.’
OK. This was one weird-ass evening. It certainly didn’t conform to any of her rock-star fantasies, which primarily involved lush beaches and eating canapés with champagne at midnight.
Maybe the backstage pass was to blame. If Xane believed her to be a member of staff, that would explain the arrogant assumption that she was available to ferry him home.
Damn, she thought, biting her lip. She’d never expected him to love her, but now she had him within her grasp, she’d hoped the whole lust thing would at least be mutual. So far, it really didn’t look as if that were so.
Chapter 6
‘You have reached your destination.’
Dani cut the engine, thankful that the whiny woman had bleated her last. She unbuckled her seatbelt before turning to Xane, who hadn’t moved for the last forty minutes. He faced the door, with his knees drawn up towards his body. A shroud of black hair masked what little she could see of his profile.
Lucky for him Dani wasn’t the sort to molest a sleeping man. That was assuming he was actually asleep and not merely avoiding conversation.
Based on the fact he’d taken pills to switch off, she generously supposed the former.
Actually, thinking on those lines, it seemed a shame to wake him. Maybe exhaustion accounted for the gig being cut short, although that didn’t explain Ash Gore’s remarks as they’d left. It sounded as though the band had had a bust-up. She hoped it wasn’t serious.
Dani tentatively prodded Xane’s shoulder, hardly daring to make physical contact with him, half convinced the resulting feedback would zap through her synapses causing her to spontaneously combust. He didn’t stir, not even to grunt.
‘Xane.’ Dani risked a second jab into his shoulder. This time he yawned and stretched, so that the muscles flexed beneath his shirt, reinvigorating Dani’s pulse. Would he freak, she wondered, if she leaned over and licked the back of his neck?
What was she doing even contemplating such an act?
‘We’re here. I think.’
Xane glanced at his phone, which currently displayed an image of their current location, overlaid with the words ‘Destination Reached’.
‘Back up, and swing us round. Then take the first left. It’s just behind the rise.’
‘All right.’ Good to know their destination wasn’t actually a field. Dani restarted the car and followed his instructions.
Xane unplugged his phone from the car charger. ‘Now, turn in here. Just pull up in front of the house.’
‘House’? If you were being super-kind, maybe. The building she drew alongside could more accurately be described as a brick shed. Weren’t rock stars supposed to own swish penthouses, not ten-by-ten cattle barns?
‘What is this place?
Xane mumbled something that might have been ‘bolthole’ as he clambered out of the car.
Dani tentatively climbed out too. The night wind whipped across the open countryside and nipped her bare arms. Mud underfoot sucked at her shoes. Only the sight of Xane leaping about beneath the orange glow of the security light convinced her not to get straight back into the car.
‘Keys,’ he muttered, before launching himself towards the eaves again. His T-shirt rose as he stretched, giving her a tantalising glimpse of his torso. No doubt about it, Xane hit the gym on a regular basis. He was ripped to perfection, the muscles clearly defined. Rather intriguingly, a faint trace of hair led down from his navel, under the waistband of his leathers, and probably all the way to his loins.
OK, she was not pursuing that thought. Thinking about the package he had hidden there only raised her blood pressure.
‘Gotcha!’ Xane finally snagged the key from its hidden hook. He blew off the cobwebs before applying it to the lock.
‘Come in if you dare,’ he remarked before stepping inside, leaving her alone in the dark.
She wasn’t sure if that was a challenge or merely an invitation. Either way, she accepted.
Besides, it wasn’t as if he was welcoming her to a vampire dungeon. At worst, this would turn out to be his shagging shack, home to two thousand scented candles, an iron rack and an oversized four-poster bed. And crossing the threshold would automatically grant him licence to debauch her in whatever manner he fancied. That didn’t seem so bad, although she intended to have a nice long chat with him before any shagging took place.
If any shagging took place.
Gah – why did her brain fog up at the mere thought of him naked?
A light flickered on inside the building. Dani squelched forward onto the raised porch. She kicked off her shoes before entering.
Curiously, the interior didn’t reek of incense, nor were the walls painted black. There was no rack, or iron maiden, and no cobwebby alcoves harbouring human skulls.
A single twisted ironwork candelabrum was the only significant nod to the gothic horror genre, otherwise the place looked more like a forester’s hut, all reclaimed wood and earth tones. Maybe he hadn’t been clear on his vision when he’d spoken to the designer, or hadn’t owned the place very long.
A collection of photographic prints covered the back wall of the single-roomed building. Dani wandered over to take a closer look. The images more than made up for the general lack of demonic accoutrements. Goth porn, she supposed you’d call them: all blood, skulls and depravity.
She turned away quickly as heat infused her cheeks. It seemed Xane enjoyed some pretty extreme stuff.
‘My cousin’s a photographer,’ Xane explained, confirming her suspicion the images were of him.
He was leaning against an age-blackened cabinet. The jacket and the collar he’d worn around his neck now lay in a heap beside him. ‘I commissioned those as a photo-book accompaniment to our second album. Sadly the record company vetoed the lot – something about them being pornographic, and it being bad practice for me to get my kit off if we wanted to be taken seriously. Of course, it would have been a different story if I’d been a girl.’ He scowled. ‘Anyway, enjoy. I think my cock’s out in most of them.’
‘What makes you think I want to see it?’
Oh, God, she sounded so prudish. Ginny would laugh. Her friend would have made a detailed study of every image and then insisted on a real life comparison, and would probably have taken a few extra snaps of her own.
Xane did laugh, be it somewhat humourlessly. ‘Oh, right! You mean you’re here to enjoy my riveting company and not so that I can bang you into oblivion?’
Dani planted her hands on her hips. ‘I’m not easy.’ None of this had been her idea. Yeah, she was attracted to him, but he was being exceptionally obnoxious making such assumptions and she was tempted to call him a dick. The Xane in her head wasn’t nearly so crass. He was a gentleman, even if he looked like a scary beast. Sadly, reality wasn’t quite matching up. ‘You wanted a lift,’ she reminded him. ‘I drove you. We never discussed anything else.’ He probably didn’t need to. Likely enough he took it as read that if he went home with a girl, he’d pulled.
‘Yeah – and why is it you did that, if you’re not interested in my ass?’ He turned slightly, and probably deliberately, so that he presented her with a damn good view of his rear inside his black leather jeans. Now he was plain teasing her in addition to being an ass. And was it really necessary for him to sound so scathing?
‘What would I do with it?’
She’d curl her fingers into it. Squeeze all that tight, firm muscle, that’s what. And then maybe lick him for good measure.
‘I’m sure I can’t imagine.’ Xane eyed her thoughtfully from over his shoulder. ‘Well, now,’ he said, his tone softening. ‘If you’re really not interested, that makes you a whole lot more interesting.’ He rubbed his lower jaw, smearing the remains of the make-up the rain had already wrecked. ‘Are you staying for a drink?’
Given that her heart had already suffered one too many shocks, she’d gratefully accept a nice cup of tea.
Xane reached up and cracked open a cupboard. When he again turned to face her, he was clutching a bottle of vodka by the neck. ‘Just so you know. I intend to get completely wankered.’ He waved the bottle in her direction, before gesturing to the sofa to indicate she should sit.
Dani frowned.
One glass of vodka would get her tipsy; two would likely have her flat on her back with her thighs apart. With the exception of an occasional glass of wine with a meal, she was virtually teetotal.
Meanwhile, Xane knocked back several shots. After the fourth or fifth, when she still hadn’t replied, he poured another and offered it to her.
Dani closed her hand around the glass, already anticipating fire in her throat and Xane inside of her. The vision was so real she gave an actual gasp, as the flesh between her thighs became warm and damp.
Everything ached.
Xane smirked. ‘And that’s before you swallow.’
Dani shot him an angry glance.
He raised his hands in surrender. ‘I’m just saying, maybe you shouldn’t be on the hard stuff.’
Still vexed, Dani gulped a mouthful of vodka. The fluid ignited her taste buds, burned as it flowed down her throat bringing tears to her eyes. No matter, she refused to let them fall. ‘Don’t you have any mixers?’
Xane groped around in the cupboard and produced a bottle of cola. ‘This do? Say when.’
She gripped the glass tightly with both hands to keep it steady as he poured. Of course, he had to come closer to do so. Close enough that he was at least partially in her space, and wafting his delicious scent in her direction. It raised the hairs on the back of her neck, while further excitement pulsed between her thighs. If he touched her again, as he’d done earlier, she’d probably pass out – that or crack the goddamned glass with her grip.
‘So, Sally.’ Xane reached out, and claimed the all-access pass from around her neck. After a swift glance, he cast it into the wastepaper basket. ‘Who are you really? Give me a name. I like to know who I’m talking to.’
So he knew the pass was stolen. The realisation that she’d been caught sobered her a moment. It was hardly a surprise. Of course Xane knew his own staff. Regardless, Dani contemplated maintaining the façade. Given that Sally Kettering hung out with the band, she was probably a whole lot worldlier than Dani, and more assertive too. Sally had probably slept with most of the band three times over and didn’t see anything wrong with that. She was free, like Xane, and like Ginny. Not hung up on morality and what people thought of her, nor so scared of what might happen that she was figuring out a host of different excuses for why she might have to leave at short notice.
‘You know she has a moustache, don’t you?’
Dani blinked at him in surprise. She’d never got a proper glimpse of Sally before the theft. All she remembered was a woman in black, a description which probably described three-quarters of the women at the gig.
Xane shook his head. ‘She doesn’t really. I just made that up. She’s got at least ten years on you, though. What are you, about eighteen?’
‘Twenty,’ she replied indignantly. ‘And I’m Daniella … Dani.’ Out of habit she stuck out her hand for him to shake.
‘Hi, Daniella.’ Xane accepted her hand. His grip was pleasantly firm, although the bite of his numerous claw rings made it faintly disturbing. ‘I’m –’
‘– Xane Geist,’ she finished for him. ‘Lead singer and mastermind behind Black Halo.’
A flash of something – not appreciation, pain perhaps – swept across the surface of his eyes. He blinked, and it was gone. ‘– Alex. My real name is Alexander.’
She’d read that in an interview. ‘So do I call you Xane or Alex?’
‘Whichever.’ He released her hand. ‘I can’t say that I much care for either at the minute. Call me what the hell you like. Dickhead, was it, you were thinking a minute ago?’
‘I’ll stick with Xane.’ It’s what popped into her head complete with an exclamation mark every time she looked at him. How could one man be so bloody scrumptious? Despite him sitting close enough to touch her, he still seemed a fraction unreal.
Ücretsiz ön izlemeyi tamamladınız.
