Rian strode into the room, his boots smacking heavily on the glitter-dotted floor. The noise carried over the conversation, over the buzz of the stage lights, and brought everything in the room to a standstill, and made every head swivel his way. Even the goddamned bodyguards were eyeing him nervously.
Rian, though, kept his attention on Steffania. "I sure as shit hope you're not signing that."
She'd paused, too, the tip of the pen hovering uncertainly. Her heavily made-up eyes had flown up to land on him. Unlike the rest of the room, though, they weren't still.
They dragged up his chest. Across the width of his shoulders. Then over his mouth, then slid up his face. Finally, they found his own dark gaze. There, they held him for moment, and he couldn't help but wonder why the hell she felt the need to cover them up the way she did. Projecting a look? A persona? Or just hiding? Either way, Rian wanted to peel it away and have a closer look at what was underneath. More than he'd wanted anything in a long time.
He took another, smaller step forward and spoke more softly. "Don't sign that."
She answered – and god help him, it was like no one else was in the room. "Why not?"
"Because..."
Fuck.
What reason could he give? That even though he didn't know her, he was sure she wasn't right for Echo Hardman and his insane world? That she should stay a goddamned waitress in a shithole bar instead of seizing an opportunity to marry a rock star and become a TV celebrity? Yeah, no matter how he sliced up that mofo, it just didn't come out any kind of right.
She stared at him. Waiting.
Rian hesitated for a split second too long, and it gave Echo the opportunity to jump in, breaking the spell.
"Bro. You wrote the contract," he said.
"I'm aware."
"So what's the problem?"
"It's not obvious? She clearly needs a fucking lawyer."
Echo gestured – with the same arm Rian wanted to dismember – to come over to the table. "What for? You told me it was so simple a baby could understand it."
Rian lit the cigarette and stayed where he was. "Apparently I over estimated you."
"What the hell does that mean?"
"You should both flip to page three, paragraph two."
He waited with feigned patience as Steffania complied. Her eyes scanned the portion of the document for a few seconds, then lifted to meet his.
"What is this?" she asked.
"You tell me," he challenged.
"It says we can't touch each other until filming starts."
Echo laughed. "What?"
Rian nodded, but addressed Steffania. "For your protection as much as his."
She shot him as dirty a look as he'd ever seen. "Give me a break."
"I want you to understand what you're getting into. I tried to tell you that out in the hallway. Echo doesn't need another lawsuit."
"Another lawsuit?" she repeated.
"Look. The bottom line is this. Echo is a high profile commodity. He's been hit with fake paternity suits and fake assault charges and shit you don't even want to imagine."
"C'mon now," Echo interrupted.
"Scorned women do crazy things. You know it as well as I do," Rian replied. "Come to think of it, one of us should probably have that made into a plaque to hang above the fireplace."
Steffania's translucent gaze bore into him. "I wouldn't do anything like that."
"Say what you want. But my point is that the contract is there for a reason. It protects him. And you. The timeline makes sure that you know what to expect ahead of time. He won't go any further than what's written out. If you want to slow things down or make an adjustment...well. That's in there, too. Once that contract is signed, it's all clear. The steps of express consent."
"What does that mean?"
Rian helped himself to another lungful of guaranteed death. "Right. Guess I should go over it, since you obviously refuse to read it with an appropriate amount of care. Weeks one through four. Kissing. Five through eight. Ramp it up. Titillate the viewers. Nine through twelve. Third base. And when week twelve ends...well, maybe I should give you some details. Because I know that you're – "
Steffania cut him off so fast that he almost laughed. "I get it."
"You sure?"
Two spots of color formed in her cheeks. "Yes."
Echo was shaking his head, seemingly unaware of anything but his own thoughts. "Do you really expect me not to touch my fiancée until filming starts?"
"She's not your fiancée yet. And no, I don't," Rian said. "I incorporated it into the deal because the network required it. So if you want to get paid..."
Slowly, Echo lifted his arm away from Steffania. "What else?"
Rian stayed silent, watching the girl. Waiting for her to notice how self-centered the rock star was, and how money was what mattered most to him. Rian knew, better than anyone that the only time the man wasn't thinking about cash was when he was high. And he'd been sober for going on ten months.
Echo's personal trifecta. Drugs, money, and sex. Housed not-so tidily together under the very large enabler that called itself rock 'n roll.
Except Steffania's expression didn't seem to be changing at all. In fact, her irritation stayed focused on Rian. Creator of contracts. Curator of obvious vices. Kisser of goddamned lips.
It was obvious that she was already under the damned rock god's spell.
Forcing aside a growl and making himself answer as calmly as possible. "She has to look at the accommodations. See for herself just how invasive it will be."
"And me?" The question came from Lee.
Rian gave the club owner a dismissive wave. He'd all but forgotten that the creep was still there.
"I'm assuming you're willing to give this...piece of ass...the same guarantee as the others," he said, hoping the hell that the term dug at her.
Lee glanced at Steffania. "She's harmless. Barely more than a kid."
"Age and depravity aren't mutually exclusive. You're sure?"
"Standard background check when I hired, just like all the girls. Showed her as practically non-existent. No debts, no criminal activity. Always on time, doesn't touch a drop of booze and won't even let the customers cop a feel."
Rian didn't know if he was relieved or disappointed. "So I'll sign off on your payout. You'll countersign the agreement, and both she and Echo walk out of your life forever. You don't breathe a word of what you know. Deal?"
The slime ball nodded, so Rian crossed the room, stopped in front of the table, and dropped his cigarette straight into Echo's water. It wasn't a dismemberment, but the startled look on the other man's face was a little satisfying anyway. He snapped the pen from Steffania's fingers. He flipped to the last page of the contract. And he signed.
"My part's done," he said. "I'll see you back at the house."
He turned to go, and made it as far as the hall, then the backdoor before Steffania's breathless voice called out, "Wait!"
He turned slowly, bracing himself for the sight of her wide, pale eyes and skinned knees. It still hit him hard. Worse when she sucked her lower lip in between her teeth and stared up at him. He took a step away instead, and inhaled deeply. The stench of the alleyway – asphalt and stagnant water – filled his nose. Gross as all hell. But at least it was a distraction.
"What do you need, sweetpea?" he asked.
"You're coming, to the house, too?"
"Yes."
"Oh."
"Did you chase me down just to ask me that? Or was there something else?"
"So you'll be at the house?"
"I just said I would be."
"Oh," she repeated.
"Is that a problem?"
She blinked, looking truly nervous for the first time she fell at his feet. "I just..."
He refused to feel bad as her eyes dropped and she shifted from foot to foot. "Spit it out."
"You can't kiss me again."
The statement was like a jagged knife in the gut. Which was ridiculous, but somehow true anyway. Leave to Echo to pick the one girl in the bar who wasn't on the goddamned list. Leave it to himself to want her, too.
"I hadn't planned on it," Rian told her coolly.
Except the second the words were out of his mouth, he realized it was a lie. Or at least a cover up. Because fuck if he didn't want to toss her against the wall again right that second.
"I need you to promise me," she added softly.
"And if I don't?" he countered, as he released the door and moved forward.
There was only a couple of feet between him and Steffania now, and her eyes were flashing. "Then I'll..."
Another step. Less than one foot now.
"You'll do what?" Rian challenged.
His hands slid to hers, and he threaded their fingers together, then raised them above her head. He inched then back, forcing her body to curve toward his own. Her breaths were raw and ragged, each one driving their chests together – hers a voluptuous swell, his a willing plain to receive it.
He traced his thumb over the tiny, swirled tattoo on her wrist, then dropped his mouth to her bare throat and spoke into the tender skin there. "What will you do, Steffania? Walk away from a contract I don't want you to take in the first place?"
"No, not that," she gasped and arched into the attention.
"What then?"
"I'll tell Echo."
It was like having a bucket of ice dropped over his head. Rian pried free his hands and shuffled backwards.
"What do you think that'll get you?" His question came out harshly.
"At the very least, he'll do his best to keep you away from me."
"I think you'll find he can't do that very effectively at all. Considering we'll all be living under one roof."
"You live with Echo?"
"Echo lives with me," he corrected.
"What the hell's the difference?"
"The difference is that I own the goddamned house, and I'm nice enough to both let him have a room, and to let the TV studio wire it up for their show."
"Echo Hardman doesn't have his own house?"
Her forehead creased in confusion, and Rian shoved his hands into his pockets to keep from trying to physically smooth it out.
"'Fraid not," he said. "Does that cause a problem?"
"No. I just don't understand."
"Family members often live together, sweetpea. Better get used to the idea."
Her frown deepened. "I'm still not following."
"Let me spell it out for you. Once you and Echo are married, you'll wake up every day with me, too. As your brother-in-law. Waffles in the morning, and I take my coffee black. Can't fucking wait."
Her mouth worked silently, and Rian had to admit – just to himself – that he was ridiculously glad to have regained the upper hand.
But his self-satisfaction was short-lived. As he pushed his way out the back door, then stepped up the alley to the street, Steffania followed him. And he realized he had a problem.
wTB/q