In For Keeps / Under His Touch

“Just waiting, that’s all. There’s something else you’re not telling me.”

“My God, you’re a pain in the ass.” Kiki sighed deeply. “Okay. This is kind of crazy, but Dev offered me a job today. His tour assistant just quit and he needs a new one. Would you please stop fucking smiling?” Kiki threw her hands up in annoyance. “I said no, of course. But here’s the crazy part. His tour will take him to Sydney. And I—I really can’t afford to go otherwise. I mean, to spend that kind of money to go and check out a remote possibility? It’s just not going to happen on my bartending tips.”

“So it’s a sign!” Nicola said, clapping her hands together. “Come on—you have to accept!”

“But I can’t! It’s—it’s Dev! We had a...a thing, and that messes everything up. I mean, watching him get swarmed by groupies for weeks on end? No thank you. And besides, I have a life here...” she ended weakly, thinking that did have a life here felt more accurate right now.

“Listen, sweetie. I know it might not be the perfect scenario, but this is a lifetime opportunity. Eventually you have to get back to the real world anyway, and this is your chance to start a new career. Remember—the Kiki I met in LA was a go-getter with big career goals! But more important, this is a chance to find your mother, and you can’t pass that up. No matter what may or may not happen between you and Dev,” she added when she saw the protest forming on Kiki’s face.

Oh, God. Nicola was right, Kiki knew, but just the thought of it—leaving the safety of her island world and her easygoing job, working side by side with Dev, confronting the woman who had abandoned her as a child—was enough to tie her stomach in knots.

“You are a survivor,” Nicola went on, her voice strong with emotion. “And you’ve never been one to take the safe route. Even if I don’t know the details of what happened between you and Jack, I know that by moving here and shaking your life up, you took a huge risk to find happiness. This might scare you more than anything you’ve ever done, but fear won’t stop you. It never has.”

“Thanks for the pep talk, Brené Brown.” Kiki smiled weakly as a knock sounded at the door. Knowing it was Alex back from the store, she quickly flicked her tears away and ran a hand over her hair. Nicola rose to greet him, but though the aqua eyes belonging to the man on the landing were identical to Alex’s, this man had a power over Kiki that his brother didn’t have.

Dev.

“Hi there,” he said, transferring the Beats he was wearing on his ears to around his neck. His gaze rested on Kiki, making her belly flop over. “I hope I’m not...?”

“No, it’s fine,” Kiki said. Nicola stepped aside, and Dev walked over the threshold. There was a rock star in her house. Kiki almost laughed aloud as she cast a glance around, comparing her tiny combined kitchen, living and dining area to his sprawling beachside home.

“Listen,” he said. “I just—there was something I didn’t say to you today, and I couldn’t leave without being honest.”

“I think you were pretty damned honest,” Kiki said as she stood. “If I recall.”

Nicola grabbed her handbag from the coffee table. “I’ll just—”

“No,” Dev said quickly. “You’re her best friend, and I’m fine for you to hear this. Just...” He took a breath. “A tour is a really intense experience, and I need the right people to get me through it. I know I’ve just sprung this on you out of nowhere, but I want you to know that the real reason I want you with me is because I trust you. And that’s hard for me to come by.”

Kiki absorbed his words. “But...you don’t know me well enough to trust me.”

“I know, and that’s the crazy thing. I can’t explain it, but I felt it the moment I met you.” He shook his head. “I’m making this weird for you. I don’t want you to accept because you feel obligated to. But if you do, it’s your terms, okay? Business only—if that’s what you want.”

Kiki swallowed hard. There were so many reasons to accept and only one reason not to. But that reason was huge, because it was Dev. It would take every bit of her strength to make it to the end of six weeks with her virtue intact, not to mention her heart. The only way this would work would be for her to develop a resolve of steel.

Dev was looking at her with something close to pleading in his eyes. It’s still a no, she opened her mouth to say, but it didn’t come out. “I, uh...”

“—accept your offer, for double my regular salary,” Nicola coached her with a mischievous grin. “Right, Kiki?”

Kiki nodded slowly as Dev’s mouth turned upward into a grin. Holy shit—was she actually going to do this? “I guess so,” she said hesitantly. “But I’ll have to meet up with you in a week or so. I have to tie things up here, make sure my boss can get someone to cover for me...” She stopped when she saw the sheepish expression on Dev’s face. “What is it?”

He squeezed his eyes shut as if he were in pain, and then he directed them at the floor. “I might have just come from talking to him. And I might have also arranged to cover your portion of the rent while you’re away. Which means you can theoretically fly out with me on Tuesday...” He finally lifted his eyes to Kiki, cringing as if he expected her to hit him.

Which was exactly what she should do. She jumped up furiously. “You have got some nerve. Let’s make one thing perfectly clear, okay? You are not in charge in my life. And if you ever pull something like this again, I’ll be on the first flight back here—no matter where in the world we are.”

“Of course,” Dev agreed. “I’m sorry, I just, um...so this means I’ll see you on Tues—?”

Kiki made an exasperated sound in her throat and marched toward her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Then she leaned against it, trying to process what she’d just committed to. A new job. The possibility of finding her mother. And Dev...oh, God.

Just breathe. You’ll be fine. Just breathe.

Dev repeated the mantra in his head as he stood in the bathroom of the private Learjet 40 en route to London. But the familiar feeling of panic was setting in even earlier than it usually did. He hadn’t even begun rehearsals and he was already a mess. A month ago he’d entertained the idea that he might get through this tour drug-free, but the futility of that thought was now all too obvious. In his whole career, he hadn’t made it through a single performance without some kind of helper.

No point in suffering with relief so close at hand, Dev thought. Reaching into his jeans pocket, he pulled out the bottle of pills. He spilled them onto his hand and counted five. This batch was left over from his last tour, and the label informed him that the tablets had expired a month ago. But they would do until Bix gave him a new supply in a few days. Dev could always count on Bix to take care of the details. Sure, he could have gone to a doctor for the prescription himself, but that was how secrets got out—and this was one he planned on taking to the grave.

He dropped four pills back into the bottle and held one in his hand. Xanax. His little helper for the past three years, ever since he’d built up enough tolerance to Valium to make it lose its effect. On show night he’d mix it with two propranolol to get himself onstage, and more often than not he’d need to take an Ambien to come down afterward—the classic combo for anxiety-ridden housewives and celebrities that more often than not led to addiction.

But Dev couldn’t worry about that right now.

He knew that as long as he kept his helpers under control he’d be fine. He always got off the stuff as soon as his tours ended, and it wasn’t like he was doing real drugs. His were legal, regulated, doctor prescribed. He even avoided alcohol when he was on them like the label said. He was nothing like many of his peers, who combined booze with the hard stuff night after night. He may have done some of that indulging in his early days, but now he couldn’t imagine taking anything like that before a show—the drugs revved him up enough to keep him awake for hours afterward. That’s where the Ambien came in, and when he didn’t take it he paid the price. The dead of night was when the dark monster of his reality came crashing into his bed. Other musicians can handle the stage, so why can’t you? How long do you think you can go on like this before you’re hooked? the monster asked him with its ember eyes. Having a warm body in his bed had always helped keep the monster away—until about a year ago, when the emptiness he felt each morning when he awoke to women with names long forgotten was worse than any empty bed.

And then she’d come along. Kiki. Not only the hottest fuck of his life, but gorgeous, independent, totally unaffected and unimpressed by his career. Offering her the job had probably been a mistake. He’d be up close with her day after day, which meant his secret was in danger—and she was the last person on earth he wanted to discover it. He hadn’t been thinking straight that day in the bar, when he’d been overtaken with lust at the sight of her. And then he’d laid all that shit on her about trust. All of it was true, but it was a wonder she hadn’t run away screaming. People didn’t just come out and say things like that when they barely knew each other, but it was like she’d messed with all of his wires to turn him into a raging, sex-starved honesty machine. And the real hell of it was that she hadn’t said no to his strictly business proposal. All the same, he promised himself, he would leave it up to her—no matter how wild she drove him.

Dev left the bathroom, slipped the bottle of pills into his carry-on and walked back to his seat. Kiki was sitting exactly where he’d left her, deeply engrossed in her notes. God, but she was something. He knew she had to be at least a little dazzled by the private plane, but she hadn’t even commented on it. She may have been fiery, but she was also down-to-earth. Grounded. The exact opposite of him.

“It’s still four hours to London,” he said, sliding into the leather seat across from her. “It wouldn’t kill you to take a break.”

“I have a lot to learn to get up to speed,” she replied without looking up. “Now, where were we?”

“I was telling you about Bix. He’ll meet us for the first show on Sunday night,” Dev said, tapping two fingers on his armrest. They were seated across from each other with a small fold-down table between them. His legs were long enough that his knees would touch Kiki’s if they both faced forward, but she had angled hers away from him into the aisle. She was wearing a simple black dress that screamed First day on the new job, but its conservative cut was hopeless at hiding her sexiness. She still had her eyes aimed at her notebook, so he let his eyes drift down to her bare legs.

The crazy thing was that Kiki wasn’t even his regular type—he normally preferred his women tall and willowy. But Dev loved her tiny frame, the curve of her hips, the way her small breasts strained beneath her modest neckline. The way their bodies had moved that night had proven how perfect they were together. And now she was close enough to touch, not to mention all alone with him. When he thought about what they could be doing right now, what use they could make of the sleeping quarters—it was killing him.

“...road crew?”

He jerked his eyes up to find her looking at him expectantly, pen poised. Those wide blue eyes under delicately arched brows. That long hair falling over her breasts in a smooth curtain. The crease in her dress right between her legs.

Focus.

“Uh, yeah. You’ll meet them in London,” Dev said. “Scotty—my bassist—is flying in from Chicago today. He and Stuart will—”

“Stuart?” Kiki interrupted.

“My drummer. He’s flying into London from Brussels.”

“Got it. Speaking of which...” She lifted a sheet of paper up from the small table between them. “According to this itinerary, you’re staying at The Connaught with the rest of the band. Is that a mistake? I’d imagine you’d want to stay at home while you’re in town.”

Damn—she didn’t miss a thing. Dev had moved from LA to London a decade ago, but his Kings Cross penthouse felt less and less like home since he’d bought the house on Moretta. His flat screamed of the bachelor days and rock star nights of his twenties, and that just wasn’t where his head was anymore. “It’s just easier if the band is all together,” he said, which also happened to be the truth. “I’ll pop by at some point to make sure the place is still standing, pick up some clothes. By the way, we’re only staying in hotels in London and Paris. After the Paris show we move to tour buses for the remainder of the European leg. Once we’re in Australia we’ll be in hotels again.”

“I know. I’ve already confirmed all the bookings,” she said, glancing down at her notes. “What about rehearsals? I don’t see anything about that.”

“The three of us will spend the rest of the week rehearsing at Ryder Studios. We already put in a good round a month ago, so we’re pretty tight.”

Tight. Good God, could he really not say such a banal word without thinking about how Kiki’s pussy had felt around his cock? How old was he, fifteen? He seriously needed to get a grip, but now that the door had been opened, his cock was all in. All he could think about was stripping her down and fucking her until she screamed, flight crew be damned. He shifted in his seat to hide his raging erection. This line of thinking wasn’t going to help anything.

The drone of the engine filled the silence as a flight attendant entered the cabin. “Something to drink, Mr. Stone?” she asked, holding out a cheese board.

“A club soda, please,” Dev said, plucking a cracker and a wedge of Brie from the platter.

“What, no champagne?” Kiki asked without looking up. “Pretty impressive for a rock star.”

If you only knew, Dev thought. “Would you please stop calling me that?”

“What? Impressive?” She looked up at him under long lashes, uncrossing and recrossing her legs. He caught a brief glimpse of zebra-print panties.

He was going to fucking lose it. He hit a button on his armrest, filling the cabin with the sound of Coldplay.

Kiki tilted her head at him. “You don’t like silence, do you?”

Dev started. Didn’t he? He’d never thought about it before. “I’m a musician. I think it makes sense that I enjoy listening to music.”

Kiki gazed back at him until he felt like squirming. Her eyes held a knowing look, as if she could see all of his secrets. Like she knew shit about him that he didn’t even know himself. No one had ever known him like that, and it was unnerving.

Suddenly she stood up and stretched her arms to the sides. “I didn’t get much sleep last night. I’m going to try out my bed.”

And with that she walked away, leaving Dev alone with his club soda and his tortured imagination.

CHAPTER THREE

BY THE TIME the night of the first show rolled around, Kiki was regretting the day she accepted her new job. The work was more demanding than she’d expected, but that wasn’t the reason. She’d assumed Dev would slip into a different persona when he was in celebrity mode—high-maintenance, egotistical, absent, no longer interested in her. She was wrong. Dev was exactly the same guy he’d been on Moretta: fun, relaxed, kind to his staff, a natural leader. It seemed like he was everywhere she was, and he always had that heart-stopping sexy smile for her. In the hotel elevator. At the catering table. At the rehearsal studio. And now backstage, where he’d winked at her as he passed her in the hallway. Every time his eyes met hers she felt like she’d been electrified—which made keeping her boundaries in place even more important. She couldn’t afford to weaken, especially now that she was on the road with him. Like it or not, Dev was a man she was willing to break her rules for, and Kiki knew exactly what would happen if she got involved with him—he’d leave her when he found out the truth about her, just like her ex-husband had.

So why hadn’t she made this arrangement strictly business when she had the chance? He’d put it out there—your terms—but she’d left it alone. Dev was a man of his word, and she had to admit that a part of her hadn’t wanted to shut that door completely.

She walked along the side of the hallway, trying to stay out of the human traffic jam. She knew Dev was in his dressing room. Her pulse quickened as she thought about the stage outfit she’d laid out for him an hour ago: a white button-down Armani shirt and black leather pants. The thought of seeing him onstage had her nerves on edge. But was it because she was about to witness the hottest performance on Earth, or because of what she was afraid might happen after it? Everyone knew that was when the groupies showed up. Dev might not flaunt them in her face, but she wasn’t naive enough to think that one night with her had changed his ways forever.

She reached the main artery of the backstage area, which was controlled chaos. Roadies shouted orders to each other, organizers zipped around with clipboards and iPads in hand, a bored-looking caterer tapped away on her phone behind a table laden with food. A heavyset man shouted loudly into his cell phone while he paced inches from Kiki’s toes. Scotty lounged on a nearby sofa, tossing Skittles into his mouth one by one while Stuart walked the floor in front of him, tapping a beat out on an invisible drum set. And above it all was the roar of the twenty thousand fans filing into London’s largest concert venue, O2 Arena.

Kiki was good at hiding her intimidation. Sinking down into a plastic chair, she took her phone out to tick the day’s tasks off: meals organized; media interviews booked for the following day; assorted shopping trips done; fan mail answered; backstage photos posted to Instagram and Twitter; a Snapchat story of the band warming up for the show made; water, towels and snacks set out for the band.

She was about to click her phone off when it rang in her hand. Laina Rose. Kiki grinned. Laina was her best friend from high school, and the whole reason she’d moved to Moretta in the first place. Her friend had grown up spending her vacations on the island with her super-wealthy family, so when Kiki called her in tears after Jack left her, Laina had come to her rescue by offering her the guesthouse on her parents’ estate. Kiki had thought she’d spend a few weeks there recovering, but instead she’d found herself getting a job at Pablo’s and renting a staff cottage. Laina had visited her several times over the years, always staying with Kiki instead of at her family estate. Laina was one of those rare people who chose to separate herself from her family’s wealth, but Kiki knew there was more to the story than that.

Standing up, she glanced around for a quiet place to talk. She hadn’t spoken with her friend since she’d announced her engagement, one that Kiki proudly took credit for because it was she who’d introduced the pair back in Atlanta. Wedding chatter wasn’t number one on Kiki’s list right now, but a little girl talk might get her mind off things...like Dev.

Kiki dashed into an empty bathroom and closed the door behind her, dulling the sound of the mayhem. “Banger!” she said when she picked up, using Laina’s old high school nickname.

“Mash,” Laina replied dully.

Kiki gripped the phone. “What’s wrong?”

A sniffle, and then she blurted, “He fucked another girl in our bed, Kiki.”

Kiki’s blood froze in her veins. “What?” she gasped.

“I caught them. And then he tried to blame it on me.” Laina let out a choked sob.

Kiki slapped her hand down on the sink. “Oh, my God. The fucking prick! I am so, so sorry, honey.”

“Me, too.”

“And I introduced—”

“Stop. It’s not your fault. It’s—it’s better this way. He said I was boring in bed, Kiki. It’s better that I found out what a cocksucker he is now.”

Kiki inhaled deeply to settle her boiling blood. What Jack had done to her had been scathing, but she couldn’t imagine the intensity of what Laina had just experienced.

“Tell me what I can do for you, Laina. I’m not on Moretta right now, but I’m here for you. Do you need anything?”

“You mean besides something to castrate Ward with? No, I’m good. Just—I need to get away. Are you up for a visit?”

“Of course! Except that I’m away for another five weeks,” she added guiltily. Laina had been a rock-solid friend to her when she desperately needed one, and it bothered her that she couldn’t reciprocate in the same way.

There was a pause on Laina’s end. “Five weeks? Where are you?”

Not now. Revealing where she was would lead to a conversation about Dev and/or her mother, and this wasn’t the time or place. “Long story. This is about you, honey. Can you come in late November?”

“I’ll have to check with my boss. She’s a bit of a bitch.”

At least her sense of humor was intact; Laina had started her own architecture firm two years ago. “That’s not what I’ve heard about her,” Kiki replied. Then she fell silent, wishing there was a sure way to convince her friend that everything would turn out fine. But she remembered what it was like to be in her shoes, and she knew that the only real cure was time.

And that as soon as she got over him, the next complication would enter her life.

“Ten minutes,” a male voice crackled in Kiki’s back pocket. Damn it—she’d forgotten about her walkie-talkie, and part of her job was to keep Dev on schedule. She killed the volume and turned her attention back to Laina.

“It’s going to be alright, okay? I promise. And you are not boring in bed.”

Laina managed a laugh. “How would you know?”

“Because Ward seems pretty damned boring himself, if you ask me. Someday you’ll meet a real man, and...” Dev’s face filled her head. That’s what he was, wasn’t he? One of only a few real men out there. Or maybe that was just what she wanted him to be.

“And what?”

“Nothing. You just focus on you right now, okay?”

“Okay,” Laina sniffed.

After she hung up, Kiki made her way to Dev’s door, preparing herself for the onslaught on her senses. And sure enough, her breath caught in her throat when he appeared. He looked every inch the rock god he was and more. His dark hair was mussed and his shirt was left open at the top, revealing a hint of his muscled chest. She could smell his aftershave, that ever-present reminder of the traces he’d left on her skin. Against her will, her eyes dropped to his leather pants. She felt a jolt shoot straight to her pussy at the sight of his generous bulge.

Stop it.

But her face was already flushed. Damn, but being a redhead was an unfair disadvantage.

Through the walls, the crowd had reached a fever pitch. “Twitch! Twitch!”

“It sounds like they’re ready for you,” Kiki managed. “What’s that all about?”

Dev leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. “Just a nickname. Maybe because I like to play my guitar hard and fast.”

His aqua eyes caressed her body, telling her exactly how he’d rather be applying those two adverbs. She could feel the heat creep down from her cheeks to her breasts.

Cool it.

She tried for a casual stance, hands in front pockets. “So, uh...you good to go? I mean, do you have a routine you like to do before you go onstage or anything? I’ve heard some musicians like to do scales, tai chi, snort a few lines, whatever...” She cringed as she trailed off. Did she really just say that? She was nervous as hell, and she always babbled and said stupid shit when she was nervous.

And yet Dev, the person who should be nervous, seemed perfectly calm. “Never readier,” he replied with a wink—the same two words she’d spoken right before he drove his cock inside her for the first time. Jesus. He wasn’t making this easy.