Cause For Scandal (Dynasties: The Elliotts #3)(5)
Author: Anna DePalo

He sobered. “I’m kidding. You know all the stuff that’s in there about making love under the palm trees?” At her nod, he said, “It seems to make a lot of people think about sex.”

When she broke into a smile, he sank fast.

“No,” she said slowly, “it makes me think about holding tight to one special person—the person you want to cling to on the darkest days.”

Lord, she surprised him. Most people stopped at the sex part, but then most people weren’t straight out of his fantasies.

“Do you usually let strange women into your dressing room?” she asked suddenly, then looked horrified the minute the words had left her mouth.

He fought a smile. “Sometimes,” he admitted. “My manager seems to think my being accessible to fans to some extent is good for PR.”

“Is that why you’re here now?”

He shrugged. “It’s part of the job. I flirt and play nice. Usually the women will turn around afterward and gush about meeting Zeke Woodlow. It keeps a nice, positive buzz going out there among the public and the press.”

She nodded.

He couldn’t believe he was being this honest with her, but she had the type of face—classically beautiful and innocent—that spoke to him. He just found it easy to tell her things. Marty, he knew, would be wincing right now.

“Which part of your job do you like the most?” she asked.

“The songwriting.”

Her eyes widened a fraction. “Not the performing?”

“No,” he said curtly. She had a knack for homing in on sensitive subjects, he’d give her that.

Clearing his throat, he nodded at her beer. “Drink up.”

She took another sip.

He took another swig himself before offering a small explanation. “The concerts are just icing on the cake.”

“Isn’t it a little unusual for singers to write their own songs these days?”

“Rare,” he concurred.

She looked around. “What about the parties? Don’t you have an after-party to go to right now?”

“Yeah, but I prefer hiding out in here with you.”

Her head swung back toward him. “Oh.”

It was true, he realized. She radiated an aura of sweetness and purity that was all too rare in his world. “Sometimes I skip the parties, especially when I’ve got a busy schedule the next day.”

“What do you do when there aren’t any parties?”

There was always a party somewhere for someone like him, he wanted to say. Instead, he admitted, “Finagle an invitation from some staff member to a family dinner.”

Her answering smile lit up her face.

They stared at each other until her smile slowly faded.

He felt the urge to kiss her rise again.

He started to lift his hand to her face when a knock sounded at the door.

Damn.

“Who is it?” he demanded.

One of the tech guys for the band stuck his head around the door. “Car’s here. Marty wanted me to let you know. He’s already left for the hotel.”

He stood. “Right. Ten minutes.”

With a quick look from him to Caitlin and back, the tech guy said, “Great” and then shut the door.

Zeke reached for Caitlin’s beer while she stood up. Their fingers brushed as he took the bottle from her, sending a bolt of awareness shooting through him. From the look in her eyes, she felt it, too.

“Do you want to leave with me?” he asked.

Tell him, tell him. Tell him that you’re here to get an interview.

Instead, Summer heard herself say, “Okay.”

He looked satisfied. “Great.”

When she’d walked into the room, some instinct that it was too early to blurt her true purpose had made her give him her middle name—Caitlin—when he’d asked. After that, it had been a quick and easy slide to the point of no return. He obviously thought she was a fan, and the more time passed, the harder it got for her to correct his misinterpretation.

Since she’d walked into the dressing room, she’d been hit with an awareness of him that was powerful and overwhelming. At first, she’d been nervous and jittery, then they’d slid into the type of personal conversation that happened between people who’d known each other forever and a day.

But the strange thing was, she did feel as if she knew him. Maybe that feeling was due to all the research that she’d done on him, or maybe it was due to going to his concerts.

Nevertheless, looking at him now—at his blue, blue eyes, chiseled features, broad shoulders and muscled physique—she couldn’t stop her heart from thudding or the shivers that chased over her skin.

She might feel as if she’d known him forever and a day, but her body still clamored for a carnal knowledge that was more than the illusion of remembrances.

Zeke picked up her coat and bag from the sofa. After giving her the handbag, he held her coat for her.

The gesture both surprised and pleased her. Who’d have thought a rock sensation like him would have manners worthy of Ms. Donaldson’s comportment school class?

Turning, she slid her arms into the coat sleeves. When he released his hold on the collar, his hand brushed her neck, and heat zipped through her. He had an intoxicating effect on her, and she found that she didn’t want it to stop.

Turning back to him, she gave him a bright smile.

“Ready?” he asked, reaching over to pull a leather jacket off a hook.

She nodded. At some point—soon, very soon—she knew she’d have to tell him that she was a reporter looking for an interview. In the meantime, though, she could buy herself some time to find the right opening for that revelation.

Zeke led the way down a corridor and to an area behind the concert stage. Bodyguards and handlers soon joined them, one of them opening a door that led outside, where she was hit by a blast of March cold air.

Looking around, she realized they were still in an enclosed area, though the driveway sloped down to the street. “Where are we?” she asked.

He must have noticed her shivering, because he asked, “Cold?” He put an arm around her as a limo pulled up.

She shivered again, though not just from the cold.

As he glanced down at her, the corners of his lips tilted upward. “To answer your question, this is the ‘secret’ exit out of here. The driveway leads down to a parking area for loading and unloading equipment. Both the driveway and the parking area have limited public access.”

“It’s not the way you left last night,” she blurted, then felt her face turn hot with embarrassment.