A knock sounded on the window between the driver’s seat and the passenger compartment before it slid down with a mechanical whir. Nikki, who was now wearing the chauffer’s black cap, faced backwards and leaned over the seat, waving both hands. She had a killer smile affixed to her face, and her blue eyes were wide. She really was a beautiful woman. Stunning. Gabe was sure most men tripped over their dicks trying to get in her pants. He was not one of them. Why would any man settle for superficial beauty when he could have someone like Melanie, who had brains, sensuality, and good looks?

“This is so exciting!” Nikki said, and instantly Gabe understood why Melanie put up with her. Why she loved her. Nikki was vividly alive, the kind of woman who would still be young when she was ninety-five. That sort of vigor was addictive to be around, though it could be exhausting. “Why aren’t you two humping yet?”

Gabe chuckled. He’d been wondering the same thing himself.

“Because someone keeps interrupting,” Melanie said.

“It’s okay,” Gabe said. “We have three whole days in which to get our hump on. Let’s get you some food and cruise down Bourbon Street. We can hump later.” He winked at Melanie, and she released a long sigh. Was she relieved or disappointed? He couldn’t tell.

“Can we get bourbon on Bourbon Street?” Nikki asked. “I’m thirsty.”

“Alcohol makes her lose her pants,” Melanie warned.

“I know a great place to get bourbon,” the driver said.

Nikki hugged him around the neck. “I knew I liked you, my handsome penguin.” She pecked a kiss on his temple.

A strange sound came from Melanie—like a suppressed snort. Confused, Gabe glanced at her just in time to see her burst into laughter.

“I can’t…” She was laughing too hard to breathe, much less speak clearly. “I can’t believe…” She gasped for air. “…you called him… …that to… …his f-face…”

“Well, I don’t know his name. What’s your name, handsome?” Nikki asked and brushed a lock of hair from the driver’s forehead. He reminded Gabe of a young John Travolta. Dark hair. Blue eyes. Cleft in his strong chin.

The driver pointed to a slender gold name tag on his chest. “Parker.”

“Parker the penguin?” Melanie sniggered and then snorted before bursting into delighted laughter again.

“You okay?” Gabe asked her. He was pretty sure she was turning blue from lack of air.

Melanie clutched her stomach and nodded, blinking tears from her eyes as she struggled to get a handle on her case of the giggles.

“She gets like that when she gets wound up too tight,” Nikki said. “Eventually she explodes into a fit of laughter. It’s best to set her off as early as possible. No telling what kind of fit she’d have if she was allowed to keep winding.” Nikki made circles in the air with one fingertip.

“I’m not wound too tight.”

“Really?” Nikki said, her eyebrows arched high on her forehead. “I still have about fifty eye-daggers in my back from the plane trip. Care to take them back?”

“You should be glad they don’t allow real weapons on flights. I’m still pissed at you, Nicole Evelyn Swanson,” Melanie assured her, but the tension she’d drawn into the limo with her had vanished. “Now close the damned window so I can greet my sexy rock star properly.”

Nikki grinned. “Better hurry. I’ll be interrupting you again when we stop for food. And bourbon.” The window slid upward, giving Gabe and Melanie privacy and Gabe a strange case of nerves.

Chapter Five

Gabe wiped his suddenly damp palms on his thighs and stared at his embarrassingly large feet. He wanted so much to pull Melanie into his arms and show her how much he missed her, but he still wasn’t sure if she wanted him to. Her signals were mixed and terribly confusing. He hadn’t expected these feelings of uncertainty when he’d invited her for the weekend. They always interacted so naturally with each other. What if they spent the entire time sitting in awkward silence? Perhaps this rendezvous was a tad premature.

When Melanie turned to him and rested the fingertips of one hand against his jaw, his nervousness vanished in an instant, replaced with excitement and anticipation. The connection between them wasn’t gone. Thank God.

“Are you going to kiss me now, or do I have to make the first move?” she whispered, her gorgeous hazel eyes staring intently at his lips.

He removed her glasses carefully, which caused her to lift her eyes to meet his. He got lost in her gaze and warmth spread throughout his body—in his groin, yes, that was reassuring and familiar, but also in his chest, where his heart began to thud a rapid staccato.

“I was wondering if you were as perfect in person as I’d made you out to be in my memory,” he said.

“You see me every day,” she reminded him.

“It’s not the same,” he whispered. “I can’t feel your warmth. Smell the sweet scent of your perfume. See little details like those pale freckles on the bridge of your nose and the blue and green flecks in your eyes. I can’t touch your smooth skin, your soft hair.” He did that now. It felt just as glorious against his fingertips as it looked. Even better than he remembered.

“So you’re not disappointed?”

“Disappointed? How could I possibly be disappointed?”

He leaned in close, lost in Melanie’s eyes. When his lips brushed hers, a familiar longing stirred deep inside him. He rubbed his lips over hers once, twice, and then angled his head to take the kiss deeper. Melanie opened her mouth to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her fingers brushed the row of spiked hair down the center of his head, and she froze. He tugged back to look at her and found her eyebrows drawn together.

“I’m still not used to this,” she said, pressing a hand down on his spiked mohawk and watching it spring back up.

“You don’t like it?” he asked, hoping it didn’t become an issue for her, because it was a trademark of his stage persona, and he was currently on tour. When he wasn’t on tour, he let the sides grow and cut off some of the length so he looked halfway tame, but he’d never gone to what most people would consider a normal haircut when he was out on the road. He knew the dragon tattoos on either side of his scalp didn’t tame his look any, but those would be there for the rest of his life. If she was going to dump him for his appearance, she should probably do it soon.

“I like it,” she said. “I’m just not sure what to cling to when you kiss me. Last time you didn’t have it spiked like this, so I had some soft hair to hold on to.”

Oh, was that all?

“I’ll wash it after the show,” he said. “You can run your fingers through it then.”

“I didn’t mean for you to stop kissing me,” she said. “I’ll just cling to your shoulders for now so I don’t prick my fingers.”

He chuckled at her expression. She looked as if she had solved some mystery.

“I shouldn’t do that,” she said.

“You can cling to my shoulders as much as you want,” he assured her.

“I mean I shouldn’t analyze everything. The night we met, I was thrown off guard. I tossed caution to the wind, but now that I’m here with you and you’re more familiar, I feel sort of…”

“Uptight.”

She flushed. “Yeah. Exactly.”

“I have just the thing to loosen you up,” he said.

He reached behind his hip and pulled the slim package free from where it had been lodged against the seat.

He held it out to her.

“What’s this?” she asked, glancing from the paper-wrapped package to his face and then back to the package again.

“A prototype.”

Her flush intensified. “Oh,” she gasped. “One of your kinky inventions?”

She looked up at him again, and he nodded, a bit nervous about sharing it with her but mostly excited to try it out.

“Is it new?”

“I’ve been working on this one for a while,” he said, “but I do have another project I started on the day we parted in Tulsa. I hope to reveal that later if I can get the kinks out.”