Page 5 of Rush of Insanity

Tank leaned against the wall in the far corner, his shoulders straight, sweat beading on his forehead. But it was Harper who stole Judd’s attention. She sat in front of the mirror bordered with lights, her head lowered, not meeting his gaze in the reflection. A vase full of flowers was to her left, the bright colors the second most beautiful thing in the room.

“I’ll take it from here.” His voice was tight. Restricted from longing.

Tank pushed from the wall, his dark eyes bleak as he made his way to the door. “She’s not happy to be here.”

Judd nodded. He would’ve been surprised if she was.

Tank stared him down as he moved closer and lowered his voice. “Take it easy on her, okay?”

Judd clenched his teeth. The two of them had worked together for years, they’d been friends even longer. No insult would’ve been intended. But it flowed through anyway. He didn’t need direction when it came to Harper. He was aware of her limits. He knew how hard he could push her before it turned from a game into something cruel.

“I said, I’ll take it from here.”

Tank inclined his head. “I’ll be waiting on the other side of the door if you need me.”

Judd stepped away and waited until the click of the latch announced they were alone. Finally. After a year flying solo, he had her back.

“Fancy seeing you here, princess.”

She grew two inches with the stiffening of her spine. The long strands of her hair fell like silk around her shoulders, tempting, oh so tempting to his fingers. She pushed back in the chair and stood, slow and graceful, entirely unlike her usual movements that it put him on edge.

He took a cautious step forward as she straightened to her full height. They shared a frozen moment. A glimpse in time where neither of them did anything. They didn’t talk, didn’t move. He didn’t even breathe. It was peaceful. Reminiscent. Until she lunged for the vase, snatched it off the counter and launched it at his head.

“Fuck!” He had one-point-five seconds to duck and weave as the projectile sailed through the air. It brushed his shoulder, flowers flying everywhere, before it hit the ground and shattered, leaving a trail of blooms in its wake.

Nowthatwas the Harper he remembered. She was all action and anger, energy and excitement. This feisty viper was the woman he’d fantasized about every night since they first met.

“God, you’re beautiful when you’re mad.”

He wouldn’t have thought those eyes could glare with more ferocity. He was wrong. She glanced at the table beside her, then scoured the rest of the room with her gaze.

“There’s nothing left to throw.”

She raised a brow as if accepting a challenge and gripped the back of the wooden chair, lifting two legs off the ground. “Why am I here?”

“I was going to ask the same thing.” He couldn’t contain his smile.Fuck, he enjoyed this woman. She revived him. Energized him. Even after a two hour performance. “I would’ve thought my concert was the last place you’d want to be on a Friday night.” His smile crept into a smirk as the devil sparked in her eyes. “I guess I’m still hard to resist.”

She huffed as she raised the chair and launched it haphazardly in his direction. All it took was a slide to the left to miss the trajectory.

The last thing any sane man would do is laugh, but this was what he loved about Harper. She didn’t take any shit. Instead, she gave it out in truckloads. She was a spark of life amongst the dreary yes-men and placating groupies he was surrounded by.

“Have you got that out of your system?”

Her gaze narrowed. “Are your goons going to let me go home?”

“Not until I tell them to.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, plumping up her breasts in the loose charcoal T-shirt. She definitely was beautiful when angry; she was also more alluring than he remembered. Her eyes were a deeper blue, vibrant and hypnotizing. And her mouth…those dark, plump lips would be the death of him.

“Well, I guess I need to find a better weapon.” She turned back to the counter, gripped it with both hands and hung her head with a sigh.

There were red marks on her wrist. Three specific impressions that looked like finger marks.

“What the hell are they?” He bridged the distance between them in four steps, and took her elbow in his hands.

She turned into him, her eyes wide. “Back off.”

“Who did this?”

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