Chapter 12
Sienna
There’s no way in hell I’m leaving the city. My lawyer-lover doesn’t get it. My gig isn’t a job, it’s every musician’s dream come true. If I blow it, I may never get another opportunity.
Andy really pisses me off. I should never have slept with him. What was I thinking?
I wasn’t, obviously.
Guys like him need to marry debutante soccer moms, women who went to the right colleges, smart but not too smart. They say all the right things. They cut off crusts from sandwiches and know how to make three bean casseroles. Honestly, I’m not even sure what a casserole is. Hell, I even dripped water onto his hardwood floors this morning and didn’t put the cover on the toothpaste straight. Every time I made a mess, I made him crazy. We could never be together long term.
I probably should tidy up the living room and plump pillows. After, I’m getting the hell out of here. Damn it all. My throat gets tight at the thought of never seeing my handsome suit again. I know, I know. It was just one night and we were running hot from all the shit that went on during the day. It was just, sex, dammit. Trouble is, my brain is wired all wrong. Other people have sex.
I make love.
Shit.This is exactly how I got into trouble with Peter. I thought when we did the nasty, it meant something. He didn’t. Why he married me, I may never know.
I press the green arrow on my cell phone to start my tunes, mostly old jazz favorites. Inhaling I start to sing along with my band. “Don’t know why…” I channel Ethel Waters and get lost inStormy Weather,one of my favorite songs. I choke up when I think about how it rains on her life all the time. Mine, too.
When I wipe my wet lashes, Andy’s standing in his stairwell, staring at me. His beautiful body is framed by the dark wood of the door, no doubt hand-rubbed by him into perfection.
Why does he have to look at me with all that heat?
He strides across the kitchen and pulls out my earbuds. “Do you have to do that?”
“Do what?” I jut out my chin and frown. How could he have made such beautiful love with me last night and be such a jerk this afternoon?
“Sing? You make a hole where my soul used to be. You’re part goddess, part siren. I want to throw you over my shoulder, take you to my bed, and fuck you into silence. Either that or gag your gorgeous mouth so you can’t sing when I’m supposed to be guarding you. One of the biggest crime families in the city is after you and all I can think is how good it feels inside you.”
I note how he doesn’t use the phrase,make love.Men never do. I hate how I feel so defensive, how his offer of sex thrills me. I hate everything about Andy Quinn, especially how I crave his touch.
“You can’t assume they’re after me because of Peter.” Better to change the subject and argue something I can win.
The few feet separating us might as well be a mile. Just last night we were wrapped in each other, making passionate love. Now, we’re enemies.
Sex, S E X. I spell it in my head. Sex is not equal to love.
He looms over me, his tone far too calm for the dark, brooding look he’s firing at me. “Honey, you threw some kind of wrench into a hundred-million-dollar deal, over two years in the making. C’mon now, you’re not stupid. You’ve got to see where that might piss someone off. Peter’s brother is dead. Who’s to say you’re not next? Why play Russian Roulette with your life? Please. Just come to North Carolina for a few days. When we’re sure the coast is clear, we’ll come back.”
He opens his arms, waiting for me to step forward, and God help me, I do. His logic is sound but it still makes me mad as hell. I married Peter for all the wrong reasons and now, I may be doing it again.
“Can we at least stop and get my clothes? My guitar?”Did my weak, pathetic, voice just crack?If it did, it’s because the man holds me captive, in more ways than one.
His sexy voice is right by my ear, lips touching while he speaks. “I’m so, so, sorry, Sienna. I just called the police. Your apartment is part of their murder investigation. You won’t be able to get anything back for a while.”
“No way. How do they figure that?” Completely freaked, I step out of his warm embrace but he pulls me back into his broad chest, strong arms around me, chin on my head.
“They found some of Peter’s fingerprints. The good news is you’re no longer a suspect in Adrian’s murder.”
“Oh my God. Like Cain and Abel, Peter murdered his own brother?” A vision of my teddy bear with the stuffing pulled out makes chills run up and down my spine. “Do you think he was sending me a message?”
“You tell me.” He cups my cheeks, dark eyes forcing me to face the truth and for the first time since hearing Peter’s voice in the woods, this shit-show becomes very real.
My eyes leave his to stare at the grain in his antique floorboards. “Every time I get close to getting free of Peter, something bad happens. I didn’t want to believe…”
“You don’t have to explain. I understand.” Andy tucks a hair behind my ear and kisses my forehead but I push his muscled chest away.
“You can’t possibly know what it’s like. I got no one to rely on, understand? If I don’t get jobs, me, my brother, his girlfriend, the band, we’re all on the street. Have you ever wondered where your next meal might be coming from?”
