Sweet Possession (Sweet #5)

Sweet Possession (Sweet #5) Page 13

“Do I irritate you that much?”

He cracked a grin and glanced over at her. “Yeah. You do.”

The acknowledgment was more of a dry laugh at himself and the smile took the sting out of his words.

“We’re going to work this out,” he said. “Tomorrow I’m meeting with the firm your label hired. You’ll be surrounded by security at all times and I’m going to stick to you like glue for the next two weeks. If someone wants you, they’ll have to go through me.”

She took great comfort from the vow. It didn’t come across as a boast. There was complete and utter confidence in his voice, and his eyes sparked with determination.

She bit her lips and met his gaze again. “I know I’m not . . . easy.”

“No, you’re definitely not easy,” he said in a lazy voice. “But I can handle difficult.”

He reached over to touch her hair. It was a simple brush. He didn’t even make contact with her skin, but an electric sensation snaked all the way through her body.

“You should get some rest,” he said. “You’re exhausted and you’ve had a headache all day.”

She grimaced. “I won’t sleep.”

One of his eyebrows went up in question. “Why not?”

She looked away and clutched the covers to her chin again.

“Lyric?”

His voice gentled and there was a soothing lilt to the way he said her name.

“You make me nervous. It’s not just you,” she rushed to say. “It could be anyone. I don’t like having someone so . . . close.”

When she peeked up to gauge his reaction, his brow was furrowed. “It’s my understanding you always have people around you. That you’re never alone. I’d think if that was the case, you’d be glad to have me here with you so you aren’t alone.”

“I don’t like being alone,” she admitted.

“You’re making no sense.”

She sighed and turned onto her back to stare at the ceiling. “If I have a choice between alone and being alone with one other person, I choose alone, no matter how uncomfortable it makes me.”

She could feel his stare burning over her skin, like he was trying to peel back the layers even further and see her darkest secrets.

To her surprise he sat up and threw his legs over the edge of the bed. She watched from the corner of her eye as he reached for the hotel directory on the nightstand.

He rotated back around and began flipping through the pages. “Well, if we’re going to be up all night, I’m going to order room service. I’m starving.”

She wrinkled her nose. “But you ate a huge supper. I mean, it looked like it was the entire cow. Or pig. Whatever we ate.”

“I’m a growing boy. Need food.”

“You’re really going to stay up just because I can’t sleep?”

He glanced over at her. “Yeah, sure.” He held up the menu. “You want something?”

She slowly sat up and arranged one of the cushions behind her so she was propped against the headboard. Then she smiled. “Yeah. I could eat.”

CHAPTER 12

“Hey,” Connor said softly.

His voice was a tickle in her ear and she scrunched up her nose in her sleep and batted at the offending sensation.

A husky chuckle blew a strand of her hair over her cheek.

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. We have things to do today and Damon Roche is sending a driver to collect you in an hour. I thought you’d want to take a shower and put on something killer before he arrives.”

She cracked one eye open and stared at Connor’s face just inches from her own. For a moment she was confused and then realization pushed aside the veil of sleep.

“I slept,” she said in wonder.

Connor nodded. “Yeah, you did. You crashed around five.”

“What time is it now?”

“Eight. I would have let you sleep longer, but I’ve got to get your security squared away today and then we have to move you.”

“Okay.”

He eased back and she struggled to push herself up, her brain clouded and fuzzy. She blinked to try to clear the cobwebs and for a moment she simply stared around the room, amazed that she’d fallen asleep with him next to her in bed.

Maybe her exhaustion had finally caught up to her and she’d simply passed out. Even more surprising was the fact that she really wanted to lie back down and sleep for several more hours.

She should be jumping at the opportunity to surround herself with people for the day. Being on her own and with Connor had been a strain, and she was starting to show signs of cracking.

She rubbed at her face and then glanced over at Connor, who was sitting at the end of the bed watching her. “Are you done in the bathroom?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I’ve already showered. It’s all yours.”

“Good. I’ll need a bit to get ready.”

She threw the covers aside and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Damn, but she was tired. As she trudged toward the bathroom, Connor said, “You want breakfast? I was going to order room service. I’d rather you not go down and eat. More chance of you being recognized.”

She covered a yawn and nodded. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

“Eggs? Bacon? Pancakes? What’s your poison?”

“Yes, yes and yes.”

He laughed. “Okay, I’ll order everything they have. It’ll look like a buffet because I’m starved.”

She shook her head in amazement. “You put away a lot of food just a few hours ago. How can you possibly be starving again?”

He ignored her and picked up the phone.

Fifteen minutes later, she stepped out of the shower feeling somewhat revived, and after drying herself, she put her hair up in a towel, pulled on one of the big, fluffy robes the hotel provided and padded back into the room to figure out what to wear.

She was back in the bathroom drying her hair and fluffing it out when Connor hollered that the food had arrived. She didn’t have makeup on yet, but she was tempted to go au naturel. She didn’t often go without full treatment, hair, nails, outfit and makeup because she literally never knew when and where she might be photographed.

Today she just wanted to be . . . normal. Unrecognized. Anonymous—and not only because she had some lunatic freaking her out. Okay, so that was the biggest reason, but the other was simply she was looking forward to being around people she could actually be herself with.

She walked back into the hotel room to see Connor putting a dent in the array of food arranged on the serving cart. If she wanted to eat, she needed to wade in and rescue something before he ate it all.

“Do you always eat so much?” she asked once she was cross-legged on the bed, her plate in front of her.

He frowned and stopped chewing for a minute. “I haven’t eaten much in the last couple of days. Been too busy with you.”

Her eyes widened. If he considered what he’d eaten “not much,” she’d hate to see what he considered a normal appetite.

“I bet you ran your parents ragged trying to keep you fed. You probably ate them out of house and home.”

He grinned. “Pop may have complained a time or two.”

Her gaze roved up and down his lean, muscled body and she shook her head. “I don’t know where you put it. I think I hate you.”

“I work out,” he defended. “Not like all I do is sit around and eat.”

She snorted. “Yeah, I bet you work out like once a week. It’s obvious you’re one of these people blessed with good genes.”

“And what about you? You aren’t exactly a delicate miss when it comes to eating and what are you, a size two?”

She nearly choked on her food. Maybe this guy didn’t have as much experience with women as she thought. “I’m a twelve. Sometimes a ten. I’ve been as high as a fourteen. No, nothing huge but not bone-thin either. I have to work hard to keep it under a ten. When I’m on tour I keep my weight down because performing almost every night keeps me fit. But when I’m not on tour and writing songs or in the recording studio, I gain weight just looking at food. I have to have a strict exercise regimen to keep it under control.”

He frowned. “I think you’re pretty damn perfect as you are. You don’t need to be any thinner.”

Then again, maybe he had plenty experience with women, because he sure knew what to say.

“I’m straining the waists of my size twelves right now,” she admitted. “I’m at the end of my tour and the shows are further apart and I’ve been stress-eating. Not the best habit in the world, but there you have it. I have a weakness for salty and sweet. Carbs. I love carbs.”

His eyes narrowed and she could feel his gaze examining her. His frown grew fiercer as he met her eyes. “You look just fine like you are.”

Warm pleasure bathed her cheeks until she was sure she glowed. In her world she was never perfect. She had fitness trainers telling her she needed to shed pounds. Her manager telling her what she could or couldn’t eat. Even her stylist waded in with her opinion and clucked at Lyric whenever her outfits got too tight.

And yet Connor was positively glowering at the idea that she needed to lose weight.

She beamed at him and polished off her breakfast, then chugged down an entire glass of orange juice. She nearly groaned with pleasure. She loved juices but had been forbidden to drink pretty much anything but water.

“Better?” Connor asked when she pushed her plate away.

“Yum. That was fantastic.”

He checked his watch. “You have a few minutes. Micah and the driver are coming up for you. I don’t want you standing around in the lobby where you’re visible while you wait.”

“Okay. I need to brush my teeth.”

She bounced off the bed feeling better than she had in days despite the fact she hadn’t caught up on her sleep. She brushed out her hair one more time and left it loose. Then she cleaned her teeth, gargled with mouthwash and checked her appearance in the mirror.

She wouldn’t stop traffic but she didn’t look all bad. And there was a lightness to her eyes she hadn’t noticed in a long time. She smiled back at her reflection, decided she’d survive being seen without makeup again and then left the bathroom.

Connor was on the phone. He turned and held a finger up to Lyric and then said, “I’ll have her right down.”

She raised an eyebrow as he shoved his cell phone back into his pocket. “I thought they were coming up?”

“Sam is parked at the side employee entrance. We’re going to go out that way. You won’t even be outside a second.”

“And you?”

“I’m going to my office to meet with the security team your label hired. I want to make damn sure they’re competent enough to do the job. I’ll come get you when I’m done. In the meantime, I’m having a few guys come in and clear out your hotel room, so if there’s anything you need, get it now.”

She scooped up her purse, looked to make sure her wallet, sunglasses and phone were still in it and then slung it over her shoulder.

“I’m ready.”

Five minutes later, Connor rushed her into the back of a Bentley and she blinked at the sumptuous leather and the obvious expense of the luxury car. She was a freaking rock star and she didn’t get to ride around in vehicles like these. Any wannabe could hitch a ride in a limo, but these wheels cost some serious cash.

The driver was a broad-shouldered boulder of a man who filled the driver’s seat. The steering wheel looked small in his hands, like it would break off if he turned it too hard. He flicked a glance at her in the rearview mirror but his eyes were covered with dark shades, and his bald head gleamed like he’d just shaved it that morning.

Micah Hudson slid into the backseat next to her and Connor slammed her door. The driver roared off down the side street and pulled into traffic.

“Everything all right?” Micah asked conversationally.

She eyed him warily, not comfortable with the fact that it was he and not Connor who was riding with her.

“Where is Angelina?”

Micah’s eyes narrowed. “No way I’d let her come along. I don’t want her anywhere near potential trouble.”

Lyric shrugged. Like she wanted to be near “potential trouble” either?

A half hour later they drove through the entrance of a sprawling estate. She glanced back to see the heavy security gate swing closed behind them. To her further surprise she caught a glimpse of a big dude who looked suspiciously like he was carrying an automatic rifle. Holy hell, was she at some compound for a crazy cult?

They pulled around the circle drive and parked directly in front of the palatial house. Micah got out and the driver opened her door and hovered protectively over her as he escorted her the few steps to the entrance.

Okay, she liked safety as much as the next person, but this seemed a little . . . overdone. It wasn’t as if she was rolling up to a concert and had thousands of fans all pushing to get a glimpse or a piece of her. There was . . . no one. The grounds were so quiet that she could hear birds chirping.