Page 13 of Her Ruthless Protector

Kane laughedas Asher told him about the last family get-together with his parents and his Delta Force brothers, Lawrence and Xavier Thorne. “We need to all get together again when we get back to the states,” Kane said as he shook his head. Lawrence had always been one of his favorite people.

“He’s planning on taking retirement next year, so he won’t have any excuses for not getting his butt to Virginia,” Asher said. They walked companionably through the tunnel that led into the Sultan Qaboos Sports Complex.

“Shit, how big is this?” Kane asked as they continued to walk.

“It needs to be big; this contest has had up to thirty-four thousand attendees in the past.”

Kane stopped walking and stared at Asher. “I You-tubed previous years’ performances. You can’t convince me that many people want to watch this freak show.”

“Not only did that many people show up in person, but they had over one hundred and eighty million viewers.”

“What did I do to Max to deserve this assignment? You, I understand,” Kane said. “You probably want to get autographs for your mom, but I’ve been a good boy. Cullen should have been the one stuck with this assignment,” Kane groused.

“Quit your bitching and start walking,” Asher said with a laugh. “Cullen wouldn’t have been able to stop looking at all the women and Max knew it. The reason I think you’re stuck is your communication and business background. You can hobnob with all kinds of people.”

“So can Cullen,” Kane protested.

“He’d be focused on anything in skirts,” Asher said as they walked into the bright sunshine of the stadium. Both whipped out their sunglasses and put them on. Kane stopped moving again.

“This can’t possibly be right,” Kane looked around the field then looked back at Asher.

Had he been hit by a mortar and not realized it?

“Nope, this is it,” Asher grinned and strode toward the melee with Kane following behind. They had to step around and over cables, stage props and elaborately decorated sets for the various performances. There were a few high-end trailers that peppered the perimeter, but there had been far more outside the stadium.

Only a quarter of the field had been set up for rehearsals, which made sense, considering just how big the field was. Even at that, there were three stages set up.

“Check it out,” Asher pointed at five women who were hurtling themselves through the air between poles that had to be twenty meters apart. They were dressed, to use the term loosely, in barely their leotards. Kane did a double-take before he saw the wires. No wonder they were wearing clothing to make themselves look naked, the performance would be done, and you would never have noticed the thin cables.

A loud caterwauling commenced, there was no other way to describe it. Kane looked to his right and saw three beautiful women dressed up like angels screeching the worst heavy metal song he’d ever heard.

“Stop! Stop! Stop! Nyet! Nyet! Nyet!” A man who hadn’t seen his toes in over thirty years waddled up to the stage where the three women were singing. He bellowed out the lyrics and Kane recognized his voice from a classic Eighties’ hair band. He had to squint, but he finally realized it was Python Sexton who was shouting at the beauties.

“You’re doing it all wrong,” Sexton continued to shout. “Come to my trailer, it’s time for more personal training.” The three women immediately melted around the washed-up star as if he were in his prime. They cooed and clung and followed his weeble wobble body as he squeezed himself into the door of a trailer.

“What the hell was that?” Kane asked Asher.

“Python has directed four acts to the finals of the Eurovision Song Contest in the last six years. At this point he doesn’t need to do this for the money.” Asher’s voice trailed off.

“Got it, he’s doing it for the perks. Let me guess he only takes on girl acts.” Kane guessed.

“According to my mom, Sexton isn’t ruled by such narrow-minded conventions. His last act was a boy band.”

Kane bristled. “How young?”

“Down, boy. They were in their early twenties,” Asher assured him.

A choir began singing over to his left at the same time he heard somebody yodeling above him.

What the fuck?

The whole thing was a menagerie of epic proportions. Not only were his eardrums about to burst, the amount of color dripping from different sets was making his eyes water. Was that the scene from his cousin’s Enchantment Under the Sea prom night? For God’s sake, there was an actual aquarium. Was that a shark?

Trombones started playing, then the wail of a saxophone joined in, for once something good flowed into his consciousness, but two more yodelers and a set of bagpipes crushed his moment of hope.

“Did you see that?” Asher asked, his voice edged with excitement. “It’s Clear Glass, they’re good. They’re also from Belgium. Mom’s been backstage at one of their concerts.”

Kane prayed Asher wasn’t talking about the yodelers or the floozies who followed Old Sex Snake into his trailer.