The Gypsy Ribbon. Shannon MacLeod
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Название: The Gypsy Ribbon
Автор: Shannon MacLeod
Издательство: Ingram
Жанр: Короткие любовные романы
Серия: Arcana Love Series
isbn: 9781616504991
isbn:
The band played for two hours straight and when they left the stage, the lighters came out in force. They did one encore, left and returned for a second, launching into one of their biggest hits, “Let Me Be The One.” The song began as a sultry power ballad then crescendoed to a driving tempo when the melody took flight on the wings of the electric guitar solo. On the final chorus the lights came up and James flashed the triumphant grin of a conquering hero as he swaggered up and down, singing a line then holding the microphone out for the rapturous crowd to sing the next.
For Beth, time came to a complete and grinding halt. One moment, she was singing along with thousands of people and the next she was staring straight into the emerald green eyes of James Kelly, his gaze locked on her. Was he looking at her? She shivered, but dismissed the ridiculous notion when he abruptly shook his head and moved to the other side of the stage. The song ended with a loud fanfare as he yelled out, “Thank you, Tampa. Good night!” and ran from the stage.
Lily grabbed her arm and said, “Let’s get out of here before we get stuck in traffic.” The two women made a break for the exit, climbing over seats and getting swept away by the current of people bound for the same destination. Once in the car–and stuck in all the traffic trying to leave the parking lot anyway–Lily asked, “You never said…did you pull a Tarot card for today?”
“Yeah,” Beth laughed. “The Ace of Cups. Beginnings of love, my ass. I thought it meant I was going to meet someone tonight.” And for a second there, she thought she had.
* * * *
Backstage and behind the scenes, traffic was flowing smoothly as the roadies bustled around efficiently packing up the stage and equipment. Security set to work clearing the amphitheater, pushing the stragglers toward the door and discouraging those diehards trying to sweet talk themselves into the backstage area. Behind the stage, the band and their ever-present bodyguards passed through the halls crammed full of applauding well-wishers. James’s personal bodyguard and all-around go-to guy Kevin Bellamy walked next to him as they headed back to the dressing rooms. The muscular Army veteran, who went by the unlikely moniker Spiderman, had been with the band since their first tour. James both liked and trusted the soft-spoken Southerner.
“Are you sure, Kev?” James asked for the third time, “I mean, she was right there. She can’t have gotten out that fast. She was left of center stage a dozen rows back or so. Curly red hair, black t-shirt. She had on one of them glowing necklace things. You can’t find her?”
Kevin shook his head. “I looked everywhere. I even radioed up to the exits as soon as you asked about her.” The bodyguard shot a dubious glance at his charge. “You’ve never asked me to go out and hunt down a specific woman for you before. They always line up and you load your plate like you’re in some kinda chick cafeteria. She must have been seriously hot.”
James’s eyes went unfocused for a moment. He didn’t know if she was hot or not. The second he saw her, it was like everything just stopped. Weird, like he knew her. Or he was supposed to. An unexplainable sense of loss crept over him and he quivered in response, shaking his head at the strange feelings.
“Guess I’ll never know.”
1
Ontario, Canada–Three years later– the third week of December
Closing the door behind him with the stealth of a hunting cat, James didn’t turn on the lights of his high-rise hotel room. “Free at last.” He exhaled with a relieved sigh. His relief lasted only a moment, however. Without warning, the lights suddenly blazed on and a low, sexy voice purred, “Surprise!”
Startled, he jumped even though he had halfway expected his uninvited and unwelcome visitor. “What th’ feckin’ hell are ye doing in my room?” he demanded, his accent becoming more pronounced in his anger. He cringed, unable to escape the thought that the groupies seemed to get younger every year.
The leggy blonde sauntered toward him, discarding her clothing piece by piece. “Now is that any way to talk to the woman who’s going to keep you up the rest of the night?” she cooed.
Her suggestive words scraped his nerves like fingernails on a chalkboard. Raising his hands palms up, he backed away from her and said, “That’s it. I’m callin’ security.” He reached for the phone and she immediately closed the distance between them, running her hands all over his body in an obvious attempt to dissuade him.
“Don’t. Please. Let me show you how good I can be,” she begged, tugging at the zipper on his jeans.
He took a deep, calming breath and pushed her away as gently as he could. “If you get dressed and leave–and I mean right this minute, darlin’–I won’t call. I’ll give you to the count of ten.”
The young woman stared back at him, saucer-eyed in disbelief.
“Ten, nine…best get moving, love…” James stood with legs braced apart and his arms folded across his chest.
With a choked noise somewhere between anger and anguish, she snatched up her discarded clothes and began yanking them back on.
“…eight, seven…”
“All right, all right,” she snapped, “I get it.” Pulling her strategically ripped tank top over her head she mumbled through the thin fabric, “I thought maybe…that we...sorry I bothered you.”
James took pity on the disappointed groupie. With his most disarming smile he captured her hand and pressed a light kiss to her knuckles. “Darlin’, I’m sure I’ll be regrettin’ this moment for the rest of my life, because I know without a doubt we would have been wonderful together. I’m just out of sorts tonight. It’s me, sweetheart, certainly not you, lovely as you are.” He walked to the door and held it open for her as a broad hint. The young woman managed to summon the tiniest bit of dignity as she stalked past him, chin raised. He closed the door behind her and locked it securely.
After scouring the room to ensure no more unwelcome surprises, he cracked the balcony door open for some fresh air. Replacing his jeans with a pair of soft cotton sweats and tugging off his t-shirt, he turned off the lights again. He collapsed onto the bed and had nearly dozed off when the phone rang.
“Seamus! Did I catch you at a bad time?” a familiar voice asked.
James sat up, elated to hear his older brother on the other end of the line. “Nope, sorry. This room belongs to James Kelly, beloved and adored by millions the world over.”
“Seamus…”
“James–I mean, if you’re after calling me and all, the least you could do is use my name proper like…”
“My brother’s name is Seamus. That’s the name Ma sewed into his bloomers so that he’d know which way they went on.”
“You’re such an arsehole, Ian. I never…”
James could hear the grin in Ian’s voice. “No, СКАЧАТЬ