Page 4 of Only for the Moment
Chapter Two
He was drowning. The salt water filled his nose, his mouth, his lungs. It burned, the pain a roaring companion to his overwhelming need to breathe, but all he sucked in was more water, more pain.
His only escape.
“Ike!”
Isaac jerked awake, a sick wheeze cutting the air as he dragged a ragged breath into his laboring lungs. Heavy hands landed on his shoulders, startling him,skyrocketing his already quick pulse until Nick’s face swam into view and reality righted itself once more.
Nick. A nightmare. Oliver.
He was always Oliver in the dreams, sinking beneath the surface, the water consuming him, taking him away from a life he could no longer bear. A life he desperately wanted to end.
“That’s the third one this week,” Nick was saying, “and the week’s not even halfover yet.”
Isaac pulled himself up to sitting and ran a hand over his eyes. This morning’s massage had left him too relaxed, sent him into a deep sleep once he’d returned to the penthouse suite. Too deep for his conscious mind to control.
“What the fuck, dude? When are you gonna do something about this?”
They’d been together a long time, since Isaac’s first top-ten hit single. Long enough thatNick Lewis held nothing back when they were alone. Nick was the best bodyguard Isaac had ever known, and growing up with the kind of money his family’d had, he’d known more than a few. He’d never been friends with any of them, though. Unfortunately, Nick was close enough to know exactly how fucked up Isaac was right now—and had no qualms about pointing it out.
Isaac grunted, the sound hoarse,his throat raw from the dream seawater and memories. Bad enough that Nick knew. The last think Isaac needed was the record label finding out their star musician was unstable. Needinghelp. “I’ll get right on that,” he croaked.
No, he wouldn’t. Nick knew that as well as he did; his friend’s glare said as much. He could glare all he wanted, though; Isaac didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’twant to think about it. He sure as fuck didn’t want to dream about it, but that part he couldn’t control. His jaw ached as he clenched his teeth together.
Nick hovered over him, his face serious, his own jaw a stubborn line. “You’re going through a rough time; everyone does. If you don’t want to talk to a pro, you can at least tell me what’s going through that head of yours.”
Isaac stood abruptly.“I haven’t grown a vagina yet.” His chest ached as he walked toward the bar. The water bottle he retrieved from the fridge cooled the rasp in his throat and hid his expression. He couldn’t talk about this, even if he wanted to. The nightmares were too private, too painful. They’d pass once the anniversary was over.
Nick shook his head, frustration evident as he walked toward the door. “Fine.Sit up here and sook.”
A snort escaped, threatening to choke Isaac on his last swallow. “What?”
“You know, sulking.” The faintest glimmer of amusement lit the man’s eyes as he glanced over his shoulder. Lightening the mood. The tight knot in Isaac’s gut eased the slightest bit.
“No, I’m nothaving a sook.” His friend might never get the hang of Aussie slang, but then if he could, he wouldn’tprovide the entertainment he did now. Isaac hid a wry smile as he leaned his elbows on the bar. “I’m not the whinger around here; you are.”
That one Nick was familiar with—Isaac accused him of whining often enough. He shot Isaac a bird from where he stood next to the door. “You’re meeting with Mr. Seaberg in an hour. Want me to order something to eat in the meantime?”
Who knew when they’d getback from their tour of the concert space later today. Isaac had no appetite, but knowing Nick wouldn’t eat if he didn’t, he nodded. “Sure.”
Nick already had his phone in hand, finger hovering over the buttons. “Last chance,mate. I may not offer again. You sure you don’t wanna talk about it?”
It was Isaac’s turn for an obscene gesture. “Rack off, mate. I’m already mad you turned down the offerof your own massage this morning.”
Nick shrugged and started punching buttons. “Just keepin’ it real, is all. I’ve got a job to do, which is to make sure you get what you need unmolested.”
Except Isaac hadn’t been unmolested this morning, had he?
The thought of his redhead—when she had becomehis, he didn’t know, but it was there all the same—brushed the remaining shadows from his mind. Christ,she’d been lovely.
While Nick placed their order, Isaac headed for the shower. The hot water pounding onto his shoulders and neck reminded him of this morning’s massage. His masseuse had done the impossible: worked the permanent kinks from his neck and shoulders into painlessly smooth motion. The relief was exquisite, like the untying of a rope after being bound too long. But it wasn’t the talentedbrunette he focused on as the water caressed his naked skin; it was the briefest glimpse of long red hair and a delicate frame wrapped in a thick white robe.
His mystery woman had been just as naked as he was under that robe. She’d taken advantage of his sleepiness and lack of sight to tempt him, tantalize him with her husky voice, her light scent. And then she’d teased him. Isaac Anschau, rockstar, the man who hadn’t been teased in far too long to remember except by his smart-ass bodyguard. But the sexy redhead had dared to play with him. He should be furious—he guarded his rare moments of privacy fiercely after so many years in the spotlight—but she hadn’t tried to touch him, had shown no sign of recognition. Just enough well-meaning torture to make him laugh.
He couldn’t forgether, and neither could his body. A glance down assured him he’d get to live with her torture for a while yet, likely every time she came to mind. The ache was a welcome distraction; so was finding her. He’d start at his meeting with the Sovereign CEO. Surely the man would have some idea where he could start his search.
An hour later the elevator whisked them to the ground floor of the hotel.They arrived at the executive offices at twelve thirty on the dot and were promptly shown into the one belonging to Sovereign’s owner, Jerry Seaberg. He was everything Isaac had expected, a dignified man whose aura of authority and money matched the massive mahogany desk he was currently circling, charismatic smile in place. “Mr. Anschau, welcome!”
