Desert Heat
Sitting there staring at her, with her eyes locked on him the entire time, it felt as if she were singing the song to him.
Will you still love me tomorrow?
He’d been way off about her not being good. Her voice was silky smooth—soulful, with such a unique richness about it that he sat there glued to his seat feeling every word profoundly. It wasn’t until after the third or fourth song that he began to wonder just how much Jerry had paid for that table. The owners of this place had to have told her to pay special attention to whoever sat in it, because nearly the entire time she’d sung to him, her eyes reaching deep into his; he felt her words touch his soul. What he was feeling was so fucking ridiculous he almost had to laugh! But he wasn’t laughing, and no amount of rationalizing that this was just a performance could snap him out of it.
A few times she’d sashayed away to sing in the direction of another member of the audience, leaving him sitting on the edge of his seat in almost childlike anticipation of her return. Each time he’d feel an illogical but very real heat begin to build inside him at the sight of her singing to another guy. Then she’d spin slowly and come right back to him, turning his heated insides instantly into putty. It was insane, and he continually had to remind his delusional and way too easily convinced heart that she had to come back. Right? The mic stand was right in front of him, but the way she gazed deep into his eyes as she belted out the songs left him completely breathless.
Then, to his surprise and utter annoyance, especially because the poster out in the lobby did read one woman, a guy joined her onstage to do another soulful, unique rendition of a song he didn’t even recognize at first, because he was so caught up watching how the guy played with her hand as he held it.
Fortunately, the guy was only onstage with her for the one infuriating song. But he did kiss her. It was one of those seemingly platonic kisses that, even though she’d turned her head, caused the guy to come way too close to her mouth. That’s how closely Damian watched them, clenching his jaw and feeling a heat he had no business feeling.
Not only was her show anything but cheesy, but as the show continued, each song she sang was unexpected. Because of her attire and because of the looks of the place, he’d anticipated a shoddy, forties, cabaret-type show, with mediocre singing at best. She’d gone from opening with a classic sixties song to eighties classics to a Celine–Bocelli duet to Beatles songs and ended it with a Joss Stone song, all of which she made completely her own. Most were arrangements that sounded even better than the originals.
It’d been intermission now for a few minutes, and Damian still sat there awestruck. He hadn’t even touched his dinner. He couldn’t during the show. It would’ve meant taking his eyes off her, and from the moment she walked out from behind that curtain that had been impossible. And now he couldn’t even think of eating, he was still so lost in thoughts of Bethany and her phenomenal performance. But he knew better. It was more than her performance. It’s what her performance had done to him, and that was what had him still so rapt.
Needing to get some air—snap himself out of the unreasonable stupor he still couldn’t get out of—he got up and walked to the crowded lobby.
Chapter 4
“I’m fine,” Bethany insisted, taking a seat in her dressing room before Simon or Amos could notice just how lightheaded she really was. “I’m just a little winded, but I’ll be okay, really.”
Amos shook his head adamantly. “I knew it. I knew it!” Amos turned to Simon with a scowl. “Didn’t I tell you this was going to be too much for her?”
“No! It’s not too much for me.” She sat up, immediately feeling the dizzy spell, and had to grab hold of the chair’s arm. If only she’d had time to grab something, anything to eat before the show. But she’d barely made it there on time as it was. “I just need a little water and a breather, and I’ll be good to go back on for the second half of the show.”
“Not happening,” Amos said, crossing his arms.
Michele, one of the other performers at the theater, walked in the dressing room at that most opportune moment. “Anything I can do for you, Bethany?” she asked sweetly.
Bethany didn’t even get a chance to respond before Amos was already ordering Michele to get something together and finish out Bethany’s show for her. “But Amos—”
“But nothing,” he said, cutting Bethany off with uncompromising finality. “Michele’s finishing the show, and you’re going home and getting some rest.”
“It really is for the best, Bethany,” Simon agreed with a reassuring smile. “You’ve been working yourself into the ground without a break all week.”
Amos didn’t have to ask Michele twice. “Sure thing, Amos.” She nodded at Bethany and flashed her one of the fakest sympathetic smiles she’d ever seen. “Feel better, Bethany.” She practically flew out the door and squealed just outside of it, then she giggled, apologizing to someone profusely.
Amos stuck his head out the door; his already cross expression went even more dire. “You there.” He called out to someone in the hallway. “What are you doing back here? No one but performers or employees are supposed to be back here.”
Bethany slumped into the chair as whoever it was began to explain himself. The disappointment was sinking in fast at not getting the chance to go back out and continue her love affair with the guy in the front row. Even if it was imaginary, it had been incredibly thrilling. Sure it was a little irresponsible of her to lay it on so thick and send out the wrong signal, but that was the best part. She’d been drawn to him the moment she laid eyes on him and could swear she knew him from somewhere. At first she’d been a little nervous, thinking maybe it was someone from back home. But as the show went on, the more her concentration became focused on him, the more convinced she was that he posed no danger to her. She couldn’t explain it, but there was just something about him, and that’s exactly why that had been the best part about being able to behave the way she had. As alarmingly drawn to him as she’d felt, she could always blame the show for how uncharacteristically she responded to him. It was all just part of her act.
“I just need to relay something to Bethany,” she heard the guy in the hallway say.
Immediately she sat up a bit. Simon was now at the door as well, and they exchanged curious glances. Amos was already being his usual cantankerous self, letting the guy know he couldn’t just walk back there to meet the star of the show.
“But I did,” the guy argued. “There was no one watching the door. Anybody can just walk back here. You really should consider getting a security guard or at the very least a door that locks.”
His voice rang familiar, but just as with the guy in the front row, she couldn’t place it. Just as she leaned over to try to steal a peek, her eyes met his. He was doing the same thing she was, stretching his neck to peek into her room. She realized it was the guy in the front row, and her heart suddenly fluttered. Especially because he was holding the roses that had sat on his table the whole time she sang to him. All through her performance, she’d wondered how long it would be before whoever he had bought the roses for would join him at that table—forcing her to tone down the titillating act she’d been enjoying so much.
“Hey,” he said with a sweet smile, squeezing in between Amos and Simon.
A single word from him, and the seductress in her vanished. That one word and the smile attached to it coupled with the twinkle in his eyes had her melting already. “Hey,” she responded, not sure if she should feel alarmed about her insides going wild so quickly.
Amos stepped in front of him, blocking their eye contact. “She’s not feeling well, and I already told you, you can’t just—”
“Amos,” she said, worried that her grumpy boss might succeed in chasing away this guy she was now dying to talk to. “It’s okay. I know him.”
Simon turned to her, his brows pinched ever so slightly. “You do?”
All three men were staring at her now. “Yes,” she said, hoping she wouldn?
??t be asked what the guy’s name was.
“Yeah.” The guy stepped forward with the roses and held them out to her. “These are for you. You were incredible out there, by the way. The audience was completely captivated by your performance.”
She smiled, feeling like a giddy schoolgirl suddenly, as if she’d never been complimented on her performance. Trying not to let her excitement bubble over, she reached out for the flowers. Both Simon and Amos stepped grudgingly out of the way.
“I’m gonna get you more water,” Simon said, lifting a brow again as he took her visitor in from top to bottom.
“Make it fast,” Amos instructed as Simon walked past him. “I’m gonna need you onstage with Michele for the second half of the show. The audience won’t be too happy that Bethany won’t be back out. Maybe if they see you out there again it’ll lighten them up some.”
Simon nodded but kept walking, without saying more. Amos turned to Damian now with his ever-present puckered brow. “You make it fast, too. She needs to get home.”
The guy nodded, then reached his hand out to her. “I’m Damian, by the way.”
“I thought you said you knew him,” Amos said with a scowl.
Bethany took Damian’s big, strong hand in hers and shook it, peering into those breathtaking bedroom eyes of his. “I do. From somewhere . . .”
His smile brightened and, oh, what a smile it was. Having gazed into his seriously penetrating eyes for nearly an hour during her show, the way his eyes now shone brightly at her made her insides liquid. “The speed date,” he said.
Tilting her head a bit, she continued to peer at him, confused, then it hit her. Sitting up straighter now, she had to smile. “That’s where I remember you from.”
Her eyes went immediately to the cleft in his chin. She’d been so enthralled by the relentlessness of his gaze that his eyes had her complete attention during the show, and she hadn’t even noticed the sexy cleft, a surefire sign that would’ve given him away. But there was something else different about him now. He was clean-shaven and in a button-down, long-sleeved shirt and slacks, unlike the carefree look he’d worn to the speed date. The look that said the very thing he’d confirmed that night—he did not need to be there.
She gave Amos a reassuring look as someone out in the hall called out for him. Giving her one last chastising look and doing another suspicious once-over of Damian, he walked away grudgingly.
As soon as he was gone, Bethany dug her teeth into her bottom lip to keep herself from smiling as hugely as she really wanted to. Had Damian really sought her out and come here tonight to see her? “I remember now,” she said with a playful arch of her brow. “You were the one who didn’t seem too interested in making a connection with anyone that night.”
Leaning his big shoulder against the door frame now, Damian crossed his arms, a sexy smirk replacing his smile. “No, I believe I said I didn’t think four minutes was long enough to get to know someone. Not that I wasn’t interested in making a connection.”
She eyed him, remembering the riveting connection she’d felt with him during the show, and surprisingly feeling even more playful now. “Hmm, so is that why you’re here now, Damian? To make a connection?”
Just like that, his smirk was gone. “Actually those,” he pointed at the roses in her hands, “are from Jerry.”
Looking down at the roses and feeling stupid now for jumping to conclusions too quickly, not to mention incredibly disappointed, Bethany thought about it. “Jerry?”
“My friend, you met him at the speed date,” he offered. “He’s why I’m here. He asked me to come with him tonight to see your show, but just before it started he called to say something came up and had to cancel. He wanted me to let you know he was sorry.” Uncrossing his arms, he ran one hand through his hair, looking a little unsure now. “You did know he was coming, right?”
Bethany brought her hand to her mouth, her eyes going wide. “Yes, yes, Jerry. Well,” she said, pausing and feeling terrible that her mind had been so wrapped up in Damian that she’d completely forgotten his friend Jerry. “Not exactly. I mean he mentioned he’d have to check out the show sometime, but he never confirmed a date or anything.”
Damian seemed put off for a moment, maybe even annoyed by that. “Why doesn’t that surprise me,” he muttered, so low she wasn’t sure she heard him right.
“What was that?”
Before Damian could answer, Simon walked in with a bottle of water. He handed it to her, glancing at Damian, then turned to her again. “You really should go home and get some rest.”
“I plan to,” she assured him, taking the water and thanking him.
“Well then get moving,” Amos said, walking into the room. “I gave you the rest of the night off so you can go refuel, not so you can socialize.”
Bethany took a drink of the water, trying not to roll her eyes.
“I gotta stay for the rest of the show,” Simon reminded her. “How you getting home?”
Finishing up her long drink of the much-needed water, she exhaled slowly. “I’m walking.”
“What?” All three men said at once.
Both Simon and Amos turned to Damian, then back to her. “I’ve done it before. I’m only a few blocks away from here.”
“Yeah, but it’s dark out now,” Simon insisted. “You can’t walk home in the dark. This neighborhood’s dangerous.”
“Sure I can,” she countered. “It’s not a big deal, really. I’ve walked farther.”
With a frown, Amos shook his head. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll throw you over my shoulder and stick you in a cab before I let you—”
“I’ll drive her home,” Damian said to Amos.
Simon and Amos both turned to him suspiciously. Damian pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, opening it and showing it to them. “I’m Damian Santiago, a detective for LVPD. That’s my badge number and ID. You can write it down if you want. I’ll make sure she gets home okay.”
Amos took it from him, examined it closely, then looked at Damian with a suddenly big, goofy smile. “Well I’ll be. You should’ve said something, son. I wouldn’t have hassled you like that.” He handed the wallet back to Damian, patting him on the back, then turned to Bethany. “Looks like you got a ride home with one of Vegas’s finest.”
There was no way. No way she was going with him. He was a cop, for Christ’s sake! “But—”
“Take the ride,” Simon agreed, though he didn’t seem nearly as impressed with Damian as Amos was.
Not wanting to make her panic too obvious, Bethany looked at Simon, then back at Damian, who gave her a playful smile, lifting his eyebrows with a shrug.
Slumping back in her chair, realizing she wasn’t going to be given a choice, she conceded. “Okay,” she finally said. “Just give me a minute to change.”
The relief she felt in the room at that moment was almost a tangible thing. She forced a laugh to mask the dread she was suddenly feeling as they all filed out of the room. Amos placed his hand on Damian’s arm, already telling him about the recent vandalism they’d had at the theater.
Even while her head screamed that letting anyone in law enforcement into her life was a very bad idea, before the door even closed behind them her insides were bubbling with a very inappropriate excitement. She got up, reminding herself that Damian was there tonight only because of Jerry. So why was the girl looking back at her in the mirror grinning like the Cheshire cat?
No matter how crazy one word from this man had made her heart, she had to remind herself the last thing she had time for was romance, especially with a cop. She’d nearly passed out from exhaustion, because she was working so much she’d hardly made time to eat lately.
Besides, even if she did have time and even if they did get past the fact that she was his friend’s interest, not his, getting involved with anyone right now was out of the question.
Changing quickly into a pair of jeans and a simple cotton top, Bethany also decided the amount of makeup she w
ore for the show looked ridiculous now that she was dressed down, so she washed it off. She forced her heart to slow as she took deep breaths, pulling her hair up into a clip.
As she gathered her things, her heart began to race again, but for an altogether different reason. The text indicator light on her phone was blinking. Shit!
Putting everything down on the dresser, she pulled her phone out of her bag just as someone knocked on her door. “You coming out any time soon?” Simon asked. “I’ll need to be onstage in a few minutes and I was hoping to say good-bye to you before you left.”
“I’ll be just a little bit longer,” Bethany said, clicking on the envelope. She could already see who it was from, and she braced herself for it.
“Don’t forget your ride is waiting for you, too,” Simon added.
Within seconds she heard the sound of Damian’s voice near the door. “Take your time, Bethany. I’m in no hurry.”
She thanked him and let him know she’d be out soon, as she read the text.
I know you’re probably working right now and I know I’m supposed to wait for the weekend to contact you but you’ve been so stressed about the money I wanted to give you SOME good news. We got the paperwork in today. I’ll fax it to you tomorrow! Love you!
The news made Bethany nearly choke up. This was really happening. Finally. Knowing she’d already made Damian wait long enough and she didn’t have time for what she knew would be a long conversation, she texted back quickly that she’d be calling later tonight.
She threw the phone into her bag, looked back in the mirror at her freshly washed face, and headed out to meet Damian in a much better mood than she had been just moments before.
* * *
“Wow, is this your ride?” Bethany asked, her eyes staring at the rear of his Camaro as they walked up behind it.
Damian smiled, with a nod, surprised that his older-model car would excite her. Even though it was a classic, typically, in his experience anyway, most girls wouldn’t know that.