Aspen glared, unimpressed. “Are you at all interested in signing with my label, or are you simply having fun wasting my fucking time?”
“Oh, I’m interested.” In more than a record contract, too. “But my signature comes with a stipulation or two.”
“Which are?”
Presley’s short set finished, and he murmured his thanks to the scant audience and trudged off stage, followed by his band—if they could be called such. I jumped down off my stool and held out a hand to Aspen. “Let’s go and meet the kid.”
Ignoring my hand, she stood, her head tilted to one side.
“Why would I want to do that?” Shedidwant to, I could tell, but she was playing games because I asked rather than her leading the way. Definitely a woman who liked control. I’d enjoy testing her limits—or maybe I’d happily let her do anything she wanted to me.
“Because I asked nicely.”
This adorable snort broke free, and a wide grin split my face in two.
“Has anyone ever told you you’re an extremely irritating man?”
“Has anyone ever told you you’re gorgeous?”
She rolled her eyes. “Trust a man to break a woman down to nothing more than her looks.”
Ouch.
“Oh, I’ve no doubt you’re far more than your looks, Ms. Kingcaid. And I relish the chance to unearth every one of your talents.”
Her cheek bulged where she ran her tongue along the inside of her mouth, and she studied me in silence. A warmth started in my lower abdomen, spreading to my groin in mere seconds.
“Shall we go?” I gestured in front of me.
She paused, then set off walking to the side of the stage where the band had exited. I dropped my gaze, drinking in the subtle sway of her hips, and the globes of her arse, well-earned in the gym, no doubt.
“Stop looking at my ass.”
I chuckled. “Got eyes in the back of your head?”
She spared me a glance over her shoulder. “No, but you’re predictable, so I took a guess that paid off.”
Double ouch.
The band was packing up when we arrived backstage, and the second the guys spotted me, their jaws dropped and they got this look, like they were in the presence of greatness. It was a reaction I’d grown used to after being in this business for so long, but even so, it was something I’d never felt as though I deserved. I was just a guy with a talent for singing and playing guitar—one I worked hard at and made myself ready to catch the wave when it came. Even execs fawned and stroked my ego, although their motivation had always been for the money I made them rather than any interest in me, the man rather than the legend.
Maybe that was why Aspen intrigued me. Yes, she wanted to sign me to her label—she’d made no secret of that fact—but not at any price. Not if she had to bow and grovel. I respected the hell out of her for that.
“Oh, my God.” Presley’s eyes widened and his lips parted. “You’re Joz Raynor.”
I extended my hand. “Good to meet you. That’s a hell of a voice you have, kid.”
“Um, thanks. That… that means a lot coming from you.” His eyes flicked to Aspen, but before I could introduce them, she got in first.
“I’m Aspen Kingcaid, CEO of Kingcaid Music.” She produced a business card and handed it to him. “You have a unique voice, Presley, but there are many great voices out there who aren’t suitable for a record contract. That said, I’d like the chance to talk to you. Call the number on there and make an appointment.”
His fingers trembled as he took it from her and stared at it as though he expected it to burst into flames, along with his dreams. “Thanks, I will.” Glancing at his band, he grimaced. “Um, my band…”
“The invitation is for you, not the band.” Aspen flung an apologetic half smile in their direction. “No offence.”
“S’all good,” the bass player said. “We know he’s the talent and we’re the supporting act.”
She gave a crisp nod. “I’ll speak to you soon, Presley.” Turning her attention to me, she motioned for me to follow her, then disappeared through the door.
