Song Without Words Page 6

  'Jamie—'

  'I promise you'll have a good time. It's the first concert of the tour. You'll bring us luck, just like Friday night,' he coaxed.

  Lord, she certainly hoped nothing would ever be like Friday night!

  'I have to work.'

  'No problem. The concert doesn't start until eight, and with our opening act, it'll be at least nine before we get on. You finish work about four-thirty, right? I'll get a limo to pick you up and drive you—'

  'A limo! Jamie, you're crazy. There are trains—'

  'Ah-ha! Then you'll come!' He pounced on her words triumphantly.

  'Well—' She could feel herself weakening, even though this was not the sort of thing she did. She wondered how Aunt Margaret would have reacted to the notion of her niece going off for the weekend with a group of touring rock musicians. The idea was both alarming and exhilarating.

  'We'll get a hotel room for you,' he promised. His tone had become wheedling. 'You can stay over Friday, hang out with us Saturday and catch the concert that night. Then you can come back to New York Sunday. Meanwhile, Tempest heads on its merry way to—uh—Springfield, Massachusetts, I think.'

  'It does sound like fun,' she admitted.

  'It'll be terrific. Come on, say you'll do it. The other guys will be let down if you don't. They think you're really something after that scene in the studio.'

  Shauna flushed. 'About that—'

  Jamie didn't seem to notice her discomfort. 'It was pretty amazing. One minute's Michael's kissing you, the next minute you've hauled off and—'

  'Jamie, I remember what happened,' Shauna cut in desperately. She'd suddenly realised that her visitor and his comments were arousing quite a bit of interest in the office. His appearance, on top of the news about her job with Michael Sebastian, was bound to generate plenty of speculation. The last thing in the world she wanted was for the department gossips to learn what had happened on Friday night.

  'It's pretty hard to forget,' he went on blithely. 'I mean, that's not usually the way women react to my big brother. But then, he doesn't usually react to them the way he reacted to you, either.' He seemed to reflect on the situation before shaking his head, refocusing on the matter at hand. 'So, will you come? Please?'

  Why not? she asked herself suddenly. What harm could it do?

  'All right,' she said. 'I'll do it.'

  'Great! Now, about your getting up there—'

  'I'll take the train,' she said firmly. 'Where exactly is your concert?'

  He told her. 'You could catch a cab from the train station—'

  'No problem. The auditorium is within walking distance if worst comes to worst.'

  'How do you know that?'

  'I grew up near Hartford.'

  'No kidding! Is your family still there?'

  Shauna shook her head. 'They're all dead,' she replied simply, hoping he wouldn't press her to elaborate.

  He didn't. After giving her a sympathetic look, he went on. 'You're sure, now? About coming up? I don't want you to feel like you're being forced into doing something… like the other night.'

  Somehow, it all kept coming back to that!

  'Jamie, there's no comparison between my deciding to accept your invitation and what happened last Friday.'

  He grinned. 'You mean, I said "please" and Michael didn't?'

  'Something like that.' She was beginning to like Jamie very much. 'There is one major similarity between the two of you. Neither seems willing to take "no" for an answer.'

  'True,' he agreed. 'Look, I'll leave your name with the box office and the security people so you won't have any trouble getting in, OK?'

  'Thank you.'

  Jamie hesitated. 'There is one more thing. It's just that—well, um, we're all pretty casual, you know? Concerts like ours, they're nothing to get really dressed up about.' He gestured awkwardly, obviously not want­ing to offend her.

  Shauna smiled wryly. Although Jamie wasn't as blunt as his half-brother, the message came through loud and clear. He, too, thought she looked like somebody's stodgy maiden aunt.

  'Don't worry,' she reassured him mildly. 'I won't show up looking like your mother.'

  Unexpectedly, his expression hardened. 'God, I hope not,' he said flatly. 'The last time I saw her, she was running around in designer jeans trying to reclaim her lost youth.'

  'Oh.' Shauna didn't know what to say. 'I—I'm sorry.'

  His face cleared. 'No, I'm the one who's sorry for being so touchy. It's just that my mother isn't very maternal. Still, I shouldn't complain. At least she didn't dump me the way she dumped Mi—' he stopped abruptly.

  At least she hadn't dumped him the way she'd dumped Michael, Shauna completed silently with a stirring of compassion. She kept quiet, realising that Jamie had said more than he intended.

  'Never mind,' he muttered finally. 'Forget I said anything. Michael keeps telling me I have a ten-speed mouth and a half-speed mind.' He gave her a lopsided smile and jammed his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket as he got off her desk. 'Anyway. Friday in Hartford, Connecticut, right?'

  Shauna nodded, responding to the hurt she sensed with a warm, sweet smile. 'Friday in Hartford.'

  Despite a good many second thoughts, Shauna caught a train from Penn Station in New York to Hartford after work on Friday as she'd promised. The last time she'd been on the train had been the day she'd moved to Manhattan. She'd had a good many second thoughts on that trip, too.

  To her astonishment, she was approached by a husky, long-haired young man wearing jeans, a down-filled jacket, and a single earring, almost as soon as she got off the train.

  'Shauna Whitney, right?' he asked, grinning at her in a disarming manner.

  'I—' She glanced around at the other passengers who were jostling by, all intent on their own affairs. 'Who—?'

  'It's OK,' he assured her. 'Jamie sent me to pick you up. He wanted to make sure you got to the concert safely.'

  'But he didn't know which train—'

  'There aren't that many New York to Hartford trains this time of night,' he said cheerfully. 'I got here a while ago and just hung around.'

  'Thank you. But it really wasn't necessary.'

  'Always my pleasure to pick up a good-looking lady,' he chuckled. 'I'm Kyle, by the way.'

  'Kyle. How did you know who to—pick up?'

  'Easy. Jamie said to watch for a tall, classy chick with reddish-brown hair who looked like the poetry type.' He relieved her of her overnight bag.

  'Poetry type?' she repeated thinly.

  'Yeah, you know. Not the type of lady you'd expect to go on the road with a rock band. A symphony orchestra, maybe, but not a rock group.'

  Shauna couldn't help but laugh. Then she glanced down at herself. Keeping Jamie's hint about her appear­ance in mind, she'd changed clothes in the ladies' room at the office before catching the train. She had on a pair of beige pinwhale corduroy jeans tucked into her brown boots and topped with a toning beige and rust sweater. She'd unpinned her hair from its customary confining knot and let it fall loose, clipping it off her face with tortoiseshell combs.

  'Jamie hinted that I might not be "with it",' she confessed ruefully.

  'You look fine to me,' Kyle told her warmly, giving her a friendly wink. 'C'mon. The car's out front.'

  'What do you do for Tempest?' Shauna asked once they'd got into the car.

  'You mean, besides picking up incoming ladies? I'm your basic roadie. Strong back, weak mind.' He laughed amiably. 'Seriously, though, I handle equipment: set it up, check it out, break it down.'

  'Have you worked with Tempest before?'

  He started the engine. 'Not exactly. They did a tour before this one as the warm-up act for a band I used to work for, though, so I know what to expect. In any case, they've got a good reputation.'

  'Do you like touring?'

  'Going on the road is like getting married, I guess. If it works, there's nothing like it. If it doesn't—' He grimaced eloquently as he released the hand
brake.

  'If it doesn't—?' Shauna prompted curiously.

  'In marriage, you can get divorced. If things go on the rocks on the road, either the tour goes down the drain and a bunch of people get fired, or everybody starts going crazy.'

  'Does it go crazy very often?' she asked, adopting his phrase in an effort not to sound critical or naïve.

  He pulled out. 'It depends. There's always booze, drugs, girls—if that's your scene. Some groups go wild on the road. It's a different city every other night and you lose track of normal life. Plus, there's the pressure of keeping up your energy level for the performance. It can get rough. SEE's known for keeping its tours pretty straight. Michael Sebastian doesn't stand for any kind of star trips from anybody. He comes down hard on troublemakers.'

  'You sound as though you admire him.'

  Kyle nodded. 'Absolutely.'

  The drive from the station was quick thanks to a couple of hair-raising manoeuvres on Kyle's part as he navigated through the predictable Friday night traffic. Shauna felt a stab of nostalgia as she sighted a number of familiar landmarks, including the great, gold-domed state capitol building. Bathed in light, the building's remarkable potpourri of architectural periods and styles stood out against the night sky.

  'Do you want me to let you out in front or are you coming backstage?' Kyle asked as they reached their destination.

  'Out front is fine, Kyle. Jamie said he was leaving my name at the box office.'

  'OK. When the show's over, duck around to the stage door in the back and tell the security guard who you are. He'll let you in.'

  'Thank you.'

  'My pleasure. Nice to have met you, Shauna. Enjoy the concert.'

  As it turned out, Shauna did precisely that, finding herself caught up in the all-out, exhilarating show put on by Tempest. She was particularly surprised and touched when the group ended their final encore of the evening by dedicating to her a rendition of the song they'd been recording the previous Friday. To judge by the crowd's wildly enthusiastic reception, Tempest was going to have another hit on its hands.

  'You deserved it,' Jamie declared afterwards as they all piled into the rented limousine that was to take them to their hotel. Despite the hour and the obvious drain of the performance, the band members were wound up tight and electric with energy.

  'All I did was sit there in the studio,' Shauna laughed. She was wedged in between Jamie and Griz.

  'It was the way you sat around,' Griz told her. He took a healthy swallow from the bottle of beer he was holding, then raised it in salute. 'To Shauna.'

  The guitarists, Hank and Frank, were balanced on the jump seats in the back, slurping down cans of soda. They joined in the toast.

  Sam Gleason, who was sitting in the front next to the driver, shifted himself around. 'That was a high compliment, Shauna,' he said. 'If anybody knows the finer points of sitting around, it's good old Griz.'

  'Hey, watch it, drummer boy. My artistic genius makes me very sensitive.'

  This remark was greeted by hoots of good-natured laughter. Shauna smiled, marvelling at their easy cama­raderie. 'Well, I think you're all artistic geniuses,' she said. 'You were wonderful tonight and I had a marvellous time.'

  'Our pleasure, ma'am,' Jamie returned with exagger­ated gallantry.

  The hotel they were staying at was a surprise to Shauna. She'd subconsciously associated rock tours with cut-rate highway motels. Tempest was booked into one of the priciest facilities in Hartford.

  'Nice, huh?' Jamie said with a grin as the uniformed doorman assisted Shauna out of the car.

  'Very impressive,' she agreed. The heavy plate-glass doors to the blue and beige lobby parted with a soft electronic hiss.

  'We were lucky to get in here, actually. Besides the fact that this kind of place isn't crazy about having rock musicians as guests, there's some kind of medical con­vention going on and the place is totally jammed.'

  Shauna was about to comment on the contrast be­tween Tempest's very casual attire and the posh decor of the hotel when she remembered something. 'Oh, Jamie—my suitcase! Kyle took it when he met me at the train and I completely forgot about it.'

  'Don't worry. Somebody brought it over here earlier. It's in your room. Speaking of which, you're all checked in. Just let me get your key from registration. I'll meet you at the elevator.' Before she could say anything, he had loped off towards the front desk. Shauna walked slowly over to the bank of lifts, joining the other mem­bers of the band. They were engrossed in a dissection of the evening's performance.

  Jamie was back in under a minute, dangling a key between two fingers. He handed it to Shauna. 'Here you go. Look, are you sure you don't want to come out with us for something to eat?' he asked her.

  The band had discussed the matter in the limousine. From what Shauna had gathered, Tempest made it a habit to eat out together after every performance.

  'I appreciate the invitation,' Shauna said sincerely. 'But, really, it's been a long week for me and I'd like to get a good night's sleep.' She hadn't slept well since the previous weekend. 'I don't mean to be a wet blanket,' she added.

  'We understand,' Jamie said with a grin. He glanced at the other four musicians. 'Twenty minutes down here in the lobby?'

  'Let's synchronise our watches,' Griz suggested face­tiously as the lift arrived with a soft chiming sound.

  Shauna, to her surprise, was not staying on the same floor as the band. Her room was located on the top level. She let herself in with the key Jamie had given her and flicked on the light inside the door in an automatic gesture. What she saw left her momentarily speechless.

  The room was a suite. Stylishly furnished in cream, blue and gold, it came complete with a small kitchenette and bar. The living room-sitting area of the place was larger than her entire apartment back in Manhattan.

  If it hadn't been for the fact that her trim brown case had been placed just inside the door, she would have thought there'd been some kind of mistake made at the registration desk. She was considering this possibility when the phone rang.

  The phone was located on a chrome and glass end-table that was part of a conversational grouping of furniture in the middle of the room. Crossing the blue wall-to-wall carpet, she sat down on the cream and gold patterned sofa and picked up the receiver.

  'Shauna?' It was Jamie.

  'Yes?'

  'Just wanted to make sure you found your way. Do you like the room?'

  'Like it? Jamie, you could hold a mass rally in here! It's absolutely gorgeous, but I don't need anything this elaborate.'

  'It's all they had available. Like I said, the place is packed because of the medical convention. Still, I promised you a room, didn't I?'

  'But something like this?' She shuddered as she im­agined the nightly rate on this sort of accommodation. 'Jamie, I had no idea—'

  'You deserve the best,' he said quickly. 'Tempest owes you. Besides—' he chuckled, 'SEE's picking up the tab.'

  'SEE? Oh, no!' That upset her.

  'Shauna, Shauna, it's OK, believe me. Just forget your worries and enjoy yourself. Please.'

  'Well…' She nibbled her lower lip. Trying to find another room at this time of night would be awkward to say the least. And she had the feeling Tempest would be offended if she rejected their gesture of hospitality. Still, she was uncomfortable with the idea of staying any­where this elaborate—especially when the company she worked for was paying the bill.

  'Shauna?' He sounded both coaxing and anxious.

  'It's a beautiful room,' she said finally. 'If this is a sample of life on the road, I could get to like it,' she added, resolutely shutting her mind to her misgivings. She could always find some discreet way of reimbursing SEE…

  'Great. Sleep tight. If you want anything, I'm in Room 912.'

  'Good night, Jamie. And thank you.'

  Fighting back a yawn, Shauna stood up and retrieved her suitcase. With an almost overwhelming sense of weariness tugging at her, she carried the bag into
the bedroom. It was on the same elegantly enormous scale as the rest of the suite. The bed itself, already invitingly turned down for the night, was huge.

  She hummed as she prepared for bed, breaking off once with an uneasy start as she realised she'd begun singing the tune Michael Sebastian had played for her at his apartment. She wanted to forget she'd ever heard that piece of music. She also wanted to forget she'd heard Carla Decker say she wanted to sing it. The head of Sebastian Entertainment Enterprises was free to give his mistress the melody, but she was never going to get the words! Those belonged to Shauna, and they weren't meant to be shared.

  Clad in her nightgown, her hair flowing in chestnut waves over her shoulders and her pale face cleansed and moisturised, Shauna went back out into the living room and turned out the lights. Returning to the bedroom, she drew the heavy curtains on the window shut. She got into the enormous bed and, stifling another yawn, reached over and switched off the bedside lamp. Pulling the bed linen over her, she snuggled down with an exhausted sigh.

  Ten minutes later, her face very innocent in the darkness, she was sound asleep.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Shauna was dreaming. It was a vivid, strangely pleasur­able dream. She felt so soft and yielding… so pro­tected and cherished. She was being held, cocooned in an erotic but seductively secure cradle of warmth.

  It was like being enchanted back to the embraces of her early childhood, with one heady difference: this embrace stirred her awareness of her body and its femininity—its needs.

  She made a throaty, yearning little sound and shifted, wanting to move closer to the source of this voluptuous comfort.

  And then she wasn't dreaming anymore. But some­thing—someone!—was still holding her.

  Her pleasure dissolved in the onslaught of two in­tensely contradictory emotions: white-hot fury and cold, heart-clutching fear. Someone was in bed with her!

  Shauna went rigid. She drew a shaky breath, intend­ing to scream, but in the split second before she could force the sound out, there was a muttered curse and an abrupt movement beside her. The bedside lamp flared on.