Rhythms of Love

  After an hour of blow-drying and curling, her golden locks were back to their usual bounciness. She applied a light coating of makeup and slipped on her favorite gold dragon armlet. Put her small feet into her black Prada sling-back booties, grabbed her Coach bag and was out the door.

  She was more sure now than ever that there would be life after Tristan. Her world had not changed so much after all. She could put all the ugliness of that morning behind her and return to the careful existence she’d once valued so highly. Tristan was an anomaly. A once-in-a-lifetime fling, she decided, and every woman deserved one great affair. But that was all it was.

  On the cab ride to the club, she spent the time trying to come up with the right words to inform the group that Tristan was no longer a part of them.

  As of today, Optimus Five was once again Optimus Four. They’d survived without him before and they could survive without him again.

  She frowned thoughtfully as she stared out the window. Mel might be another problem. She wasn’t at all certain she could get him to sign the group without Tristan fronting it. And the guys would not be pleased if her love life ended up costing them this opportunity of a lifetime.

  She shook her head sadly. This was why she made a rule of never getting involved with her band members. At that moment, she mentally added a new rule to her list: never break my own rules.

  Later that evening, just before opening, Rayne could hear Ronnie and Dex talking as they entered the club. That meant that Steve and Toby would not be far behind.

  She stood from her desk where she’d been paying bills, smoothed her blouse and took a deep breath.

  Might as well get this over with.

  She opened the door to her office and started down the hallway toward their dressing room. As she reached the door she could hear the male laughter coming from inside.

  She knocked hard and waited until someone answered. The door was cracked and Dex stuck his head out. “Hey, Rayne, what’s up?”

  “Got a minute? I need to talk to you all together.”

  “Sure.” He opened the door wide and Rayne entered and stopped dead in her tracks to see Tristan leaning against one of the dressing tables. The other four men disappeared as her mind and eyes honed in on the only one that mattered.

  “What are you doing here?” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

  “I play here, remember?” he said casually, never breaking eye contact with her.

  She could feel the other guys watching them and shook herself free of his hypnotic stare. She glanced around at the others and knew two things instantly.

  Dex, Ronnie and Steve had no idea that anything had changed—but Toby did. The guilty expression on his face as he avoided her eyes told her that was where Tristan had landed after leaving her place that morning. She never thought Toby would sell her out like that, but who knew what sad story Tristan had given him.

  “Can I talk to you in the hall for a moment?” She returned her attention to Tristan.

  “Can it wait? We are trying to get ready for tonight.” She glanced at the men again and noticed that none of them seemed too busy, just sitting around and talking from what she could see.

  “No, it can’t.” She turned and headed out the door, never checking to see if he was following. It felt good, too, she thought, being the old Rayne. The take-control Rayne. Tristan had barely gotten a glimpse of this woman before they began their relationship, which had ended in her turning into a pile of wrecked womanhood at his feet.

  Well, she thought, it was time he got to know this Rayne better. Once in the hallway, she turned with her hands on her hips. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Her eyes widened when she realized she was talking to air; no one else was there.

  She was still standing there trying to decide if she should go back into the room and try again or just leave when Tristan finally came into the hall, pulling the door closed behind him.

  Before she could speak, he put up his hands in a defensive gesture. “Don’t do this.”

  “Do what?”

  “Ruin this band because you have a problem with me.”

  “I’m not trying to ruin the band, Tristan, but you have to admit it will be a bit awkward working together after everything.”

  “Not really.”

  Rayne stood stone still, not certain she’d heard right. “You don’t think so?”

  “No. I mean I love you, Rayne. True. But my music…my music is my soul. It’s the most important thing in the world to me.”

  Last night, you said I was the most important thing in the world to you, she thought.

  “I get it. You and me—we’re over. I get it. But the music, Rayne…the way we fit together.” He gestured to the room behind him. “This doesn’t happen every day. You know it as well as I do. Granted, I just got here, and maybe I’ve been lucky and haven’t really had to pay my dues, but these guys have worked hard for a chance, for years they’ve waited for a record deal like this. Don’t take it away from them.”

  Rayne fought the urge to lean back against the wall. Was he really able to separate the two relationships so easily? Could she? Why had it not occurred to her that they could keep the band together and end their romantic relationship?

  In her mind the two things were completely intertwined and you couldn’t have one without the other. He’d called her his muse, but apparently a muse was more easily replaceable than she realized. It hurt. It hurt like hell to hear him so easily dismiss what they’d shared. But this was what she wanted, right? No, this was better. This way she could keep access to his wonderful talent without all the emotional entanglements.

  “Can you handle that?” he asked.

  Rayne looked up into his eyes and saw nothing. That way he had of always looking at her as if she were some kind of dessert he craved was gone. Now, he was just a man discussing a business venture with his boss. She nodded. “I can handle it if you can.”

  Chapter 8

  As he strummed his guitar, checking the sound that came out of the amplifier, Tristan wasn’t at all sure he could handle this. But it was his only chance, the only way he could stay close to Rayne and fix whatever had gone wrong that morning.

  He considered returning to Albany for all of a minute before abandoning the idea. This city was now his home for no other reason than Rayne lived here. And he was determined to find a way to make it right.

  So he’d packed his bags and headed to the closest hotel only to find out that a convention in town had booked up not only that one but all the hotels in the area.

  The only people he knew in town other than Rayne were the band members, and Ronnie, Dex and Steve were all married with children, which left Toby as the only possible member who might have a spare bed.

  The older man had taken him in without so much as a question, but Tristan knew he’d already figured it out on his own, so there was nothing that needed to be said.

  But now, watching the club patrons pour in, watching Rayne do her hostess thing, seeing the way men checked out her beautiful body and knowing that for the first time in several weeks one of them might actually stand a chance with her…this was turning out to be harder than he’d originally imagined.

  But he got through it. And the next night and the next. But with every passing day he could feel Rayne pushing him further and further out of her life. And he still had no idea how to undo it. And, God, how he missed her. Her touch, her voice, everything about her. Did she miss him? The only time he seemed to be able to hold her undivided attention was when he was performing.

  Living with Toby was proving to be interesting, as well. The man was an absolute neat freak. Everything had to be in a certain spot at all times. He knew that if he continued to stay in New York he could have to consider getting his own place. It was going to be a while before he and Rayne were living together again.

  He was playing one of his original songs when Mel came into the club. Mel waved toward the stage before mo
ving through the crowd to reach Rayne. Tristan watched the slick music executive, not liking the way he put his arm around Rayne’s shoulders or the way he leaned into her when he spoke.

  Tristan continued to play, believing he never missed a beat but something must’ve happened because Rayne turned to look at him suddenly and he also noticed Toby frowning at him.

  Only then did he remember he was supposed to be singing. He quickly filled in the gap and the crowd didn’t seem to notice or mind for the most part. The song was upbeat and dancing to the music seemed to be all anyone cared about.

  After they finished the set, he quickly put his guitar down and headed down the stairs and offstage, ignoring the cluster of women gathered at the bottom of the stairs. He worked his way over to Rayne and Mel, trying to tap down the growing jealously in his mind.

  Mel saw him first. “Hey, man, what’s up—forget your lyrics?” He laughed. “Not that this crowd seems to care as long as you continue to jam that bass the way you do.”

  Tristan forced a smile. “Well, you know. These things happen.” He glanced at Rayne.

  “Got any news for us?” He heard Dex over his shoulder and realized the whole band had followed him for their own reason, information regarding the deal Mel was working out for them.

  “Not yet,” Mel said with the shake of his head. “But these things take time.”

  He glanced nervously at Tristan, and when he was sure, he made a slight head motion indicating the back hall leading to the alley.

  Tristan frowned at the man, wondering if he was being called out. But when Mel did it again, he realized he just wanted to talk in private.

  “Excuse us a moment,” Tristan said. “I need to ask Mel something.”

  He started to move toward the back of the club and saw Mel start to follow him, then pause. He saw Mel slipping Rayne a card and it took every ounce of his being not to storm back and find out what that was about.

  Soon he and Mel were close together in the hallway, right outside the kitchen. As soon as they were alone, Mel began. “We’ve run into a bit of a snag in the negotiations.”

  Tristan frowned, wondering why he was the only one being informed of this. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, the scouts, they like you—they really do. But that’s it.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “They only want to sign you, Tristan, not Optimus Five.”

  “But the demo, the audition, they were all done as a group.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Look, Tristan, I have been coming to this club for years—even before Rayne and I hooked up.”

  Tristan tightened his jaw. “Get to your point.”

  Mel looked slightly taken aback but he continued. “We’ve heard everything those four have to offer. But you…you’re new, fresh, exciting. That’s what they’re looking for. They’re has-beens, and you’re a yet-to-be. What do you say?”

  “Say? To what?”

  “Do you want the deal or not?”

  “Hang on.” Tristan shook his head in disbelief. “Are you telling me the only way I’m going to get a deal is if I stab my partners in the back?”

  “A bit over the top, but you’ve got the gist of it.” Mel quickly checked his vibrating phone and returned it to his pocket. “Look, I’ve got to go, but think about it, okay? You and I both know what this could do for you.”

  He turned to leave and paused. “By the way, what’s going on with you and Rayne?”

  “Nothing that concerns you.” Tristan could not stop the threatening tone that escaped. Tristan had never really cared for Mel because of his past relationship with Rayne, but now he was beginning to despise the man.

  Mel simply smiled. “Just asking.” He turned and headed back down the hall leading out of the club. “Oh, and welcome to the club.”

  “What club?” Tristan called back.

  “The Rayne-Phillips-broken-heart club.” At the end of the hall, he turned with a wide grin on his face. “I’ve been a member for years and thought I always would be.” He shrugged. “But then again, you just never know what tomorrow will bring.”

  And he was gone, leaving Tristan alone with nothing but that parting thought.

  Unable to stop himself, Tristan went back into the club and immediately began combing the room for Rayne.

  When he didn’t see her anywhere he started toward her office, but Steve caught his arm. “Come on, man, we’re on.”

  “Start without me,” he said, pulling free from the loose hold and continuing in the direction of Rayne’s office.

  When he reached the office he pounded on the door three times before throwing it open and finding Rayne sitting at her desk. She stood quickly. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  He took in her elegant black pantsuit and upturned do—no matter how many times he looked at her, it would always feel as if he was seeing someone wonderful and new for the first time. But in his present mood it was hard to appreciate her beauty because all he could think about was the card he’d seen Mel slip into her hand.

  “Where is it?” He stormed to the desk and began pushing things to the side trying to find the small card.

  “What are you talking about?” Rayne watched him in amazement.

  “Where is what? The card Mel gave you. What’s on it?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “None of your damn business! Now get out of my office!” She tilted her head to the side as she listened to the music coming from the main area. “Aren’t you supposed to be onstage right now?”

  Tristan continued to push aside the papers until he was satisfied it was not there. “Where is it?”

  “What is wrong with you?” She frowned thoughtfully. “What did Mel say to you?”

  “Where is the card, Rayne?” She folded her arms across her chest and simply glared at him. “I saw him give it to you. What was on it? His phone number?”

  “I already have his phone number, you dweeb! We’re business partners, remember?”

  “Did he ask you out? Did you make plans to meet him somewhere? Is that what was on the card? An address?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

  “Get used to it,” he muttered.

  “I knew this would never work.”

  Tristan took a deep breath. “I just want to see the card. Let me see it and then I’ll leave, okay?”

  “No.”

  “Woman,” he growled low in his throat, “give me the damn card!”

  He began looking around the room. His eyes came back to her face just in time to notice her guilty glance toward her purse sitting on the corner chaise.

  When their eyes met, Rayne realized she’d given herself away and they both charged at the purse at the same time.

  She reached it first, but barely.

  Rayne had spoken the truth, she’d never seen Tristan like this. He’d always been a passionate lover, but in most ways he seemed so self-contained. She would’ve never imagined him in a jealous rage and she was sure that was exactly what this was.

  The card was nothing more than a new business card for Mel. He’d moved offices and changed phone numbers and he was handing out new cards to all his acquaintances, but apparently Tristan thought it was a lot more.

  Tugging over the purse, the pair tripped and fell to the couch. Rayne had managed to get the purse beneath her but she was having a hard time holding on to it.

  Mostly because the feel of Tristan’s warm body on top of her own was far too distracting. She wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around his neck and pull his lips to hers, but he was still completely intent on the purse.

  His strong arms wrapped around her body, his muscular legs weighing her down, his hot breath on her neck, it was all so wonderful and in that moment she wanted to thank Mel for the inconsequential act that had given her this moment. A moment she thought she would never experience again, even if the true purpose of the contact was possession of her purse.

  Suddenly, he stopped squirming a
nd reaching, and Rayne was afraid he was about to give up. But instead he propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at her. His heavy breathing had changed. His eyes had darkened to a deep brown as they roamed over her heaving breast. She tried to regain control of her own erratic breathing, but it was no good with him looking at her like that. It had been so long since he’d looked at her like that.

  The room grew quiet in the wake of their struggle and Rayne had no idea what he was thinking until he spoke the thought in three words.

  “I want you.”

  Chapter 9

  Okay, Rayne thought. This was where she was supposed to remember her rule about never returning to the same metaphoric well to quench thirst. But how could she not when the water in this particular well was so damn good?

  Without a word she released her tight hold on the purse buried under her back to cup his face in her hands. Slowly, with precision and clear intent, she brought his lips to hers.

  Rayne never wanted either of them to say this just happened. Nothing between them would ever just happen. That was important, she wasn’t exactly sure why at that moment, but it was.

  She felt Tristan’s large hand wrapping around her bottom, lifting her legs over his hips. The slick fabric of her pants sliding along his thigh seemed to increase his arousal as she felt his penis growing against her stomach.

  His other hand eased up to cup her breast beneath the silk blouse, and she spontaneously arched into him. Wanting him—no, needing him as she’d never needed anything. It was such a strange revelation, Rayne thought. Like a starving man who does not know he’s starving until he tastes food. An awakening in some ways.

  Charting a path from her lips and down her neck, he replaced the hand massaging her breast with his mouth and Rayne grabbed his shoulders, trying to hang on to something resembling control as he suckled hard.