Page 97 of Stormswept Colorado

Gah. Shivers of desire made me rub my thighs together.

While we spoke every day and flirted and teased one another, we hadn’t done more on our calls. Teller could say such dirty things in that commanding tone of his, but he also had a gentlemanly streak. It seemed like he wanted to wait for more sexy times until we could see one another in person again.

Just one more form of delicious torture. As soon as we could find a few days to get together, I planned to jump him and spend the whole time naked.

Why couldn’t I be doing that tonight instead of this stupid party?

The gatehouse at the edge of my neighborhood called ahead to my security guys, letting them know that Paul had entered the neighborhood.

I heard the loud rumble of an engine before I stepped out my front door. Paul was in his bright orange Lamborghini.

I’d dressed in a wide-legged jumpsuit, sliding my feet into a pair of Jimmy Choo heels. The event was a pre-release party for another artist on my same label. Not even an actual release party. It was being held at a fancy restaurant in Beverly Hills. And because Paul insisted on escorting me, he was driving.

Bryan opened the passenger door for me. “Let us know if you need anything tonight,” he murmured.

He would be following separately and parking down the street from the venue, just in case. I’d agreed to ride with Paul to the event so we could step straight onto the red carpet together, but I wasn’t going to be stranded with the man.

“Thank you,” I whispered to Bryan, then slid into the low leather seat.

“You look gorgeous,” Paul said as I got in, his eyes roving.

Teller said that to me all the time. How did Paul manage to sound infinitely sleazier?

He smirked. “Ouch, no compliment for me in return? Tough crowd.”

I hid my eye roll. “You look nice too.” He was wearing the same designer clothes as usual. And too much cologne.

“That’s more like it.” The engine roared as we pulled away from my house. “I’ve been looking forward to tonight. I’ve hardly seen you lately. It’s like you’ve been hiding from me.”

Cheryl’s voice intoned in my head.Be nice.

“We were at that business dinner just the other night,” I pointed out. “And I’ve seen you at the Santa Monica studio.”

He’d been inviting himself to my sessions with my collaborators. It was his job to show up and monitor how I was doing, offering advice and smoothing the process. But I didn’t have to do whatever he said.

Or accept his suggestions of grabbing a private dinner or drinks after my recording sessions.

“Yes, but that’s work.” Paul’s smarmy grin inched up his face. “This is much better. You’re my date tonight. We can finally get to know each other on a personal level.”

I almost choked.

I’d been thinking a lot about what Teller said that last day in Hartley, after he met Paul.It’s like he owns you. I remained under contract with this label for another year.

But playing nice didn’t mean rolling over and playing dead.

“Tonight is business, not personal,” I said. “I have a boyfriend. Just so you know.”

Paul’s smile froze. Turned ice cold.

He blasted music for the rest of the drive. When we reached the red carpet, I stepped out to shutters snapping and cameras flashing. Paul raced around the side of the car to put a hand on my back as we walked. I smiled for the posed pictures and video segments and entertainment reporter questions.

This was publicity for my upcoming album. It would be worth it. Or that was what I kept telling myself.

But as soon as we got inside the restaurant, I slipped away from him. After weaving through the crowd, I dove into a conversation with some musicians I knew and liked.

There were more cameras and reporters here, so I posed. Performing for the audience like I always did. But there was no way I’d pretend to be Paul’s date.

Hellno.

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