Kate Hewitt - Tempted By The Rock Star

Yet what would happen when he did?

He glanced up as if aware of her gaze, smiled ruefully. ‘You’re nervous.’

For a stunned second she thought he’d guessed the nature of her thoughts, then realised with some relief that he was talking about the concert. ‘Yes, I am.’

‘You’ll be fine.’

‘You don’t know that.’

‘True.’ He stretched his legs in front of him and put the papers back in a leather case. ‘What did you do when you had all those big concerts? To warm up, I mean, and get rid of stage fright?’

Aurelie shrugged. ‘Honestly, I don’t know. I didn’t really have stage fright.’

Luke arched an eyebrow. ‘Never? Not even when you played to ten thousand people in Madison Square Garden?’

She laughed, but the sound trembled. ‘No, because it was all an act. It wasn’t really me, and so I didn’t … I didn’t really care.’

‘And now it’s you, and you care,’ he finished softly, and she nodded, stared at her hands. Luke covered her hand with his own, twined his fingers through hers. He didn’t say anything, didn’t offer false promises about how they’d all love her, and she was glad. Silence could be honest too.

Yet her nervousness came back as they landed in Singapore and took a limo to the hotel. Aurelie barely registered the sumptuous suite with its view of the bay from one balcony and the city skyline from the other. All she could think about was how in just a few hours she would walk onto that stage and bare her soul.

Why had she written the damn song, anyway? And why had she ever played it for Luke?

‘It doesn’t matter what they think, you know,’ Luke said. She turned and saw him standing in the doorway of her suite. ‘It doesn’t mean anything if they don’t like it.’

‘Doesn’t it?’

‘No. What matters is what you think of it. How you think of yourself.’

How she thought of herself? She couldn’t answer that one. Being herself still felt so new, so strange. She still wasn’t sure she even knew who she was.

‘We’d better get going,’ she said, and slipped past him out into the corridor.

Luke stayed with her as they toured the store, five floors on Orchard Road, and showed her the new café, the glittering beauty hall, the department for crafts and clothing all supplied by local artisans, clearly his brain child.

‘Don’t you have important people to see?’ she asked, half-joking, as he escorted her to the dressing room where she was to get ready. Already people were milling about the marble lobby, waiting for the official opening.

‘I’ll check in with a few people now, and come back before you go on.’

Aurelie swallowed. Luke had done a good job of distracting her with the tour, but the fear—the terror —was now coming back in full force.

‘Okay,’ she said, still trying for insouciance and failing miserably. He put his hands, strong and comforting, on her shoulders and smiled down at her.

‘Forget about the crowd,’ he said quietly. ‘Forget about me. Sing your song for yourself, Aurelie. You need that.’

Somehow, despite the tears now stinging her eyes, she dredged up a smile. ‘I knew this was pity,’ she joked, and he pressed his lips to her forehead.

‘You can do it. I know you can.’

And then he was gone, and Aurelie sagged against the door, completely spent from that small encounter.

By the time Luke returned half an hour later she was ready—or at least as ready as she’d ever be. She wore a sundress this time, in a soft, cloud-coloured lavender, and cowboy boots. Her hair fell tousled to her shoulders, and she carried her guitar.

Luke smiled. ‘You look fantastic.’

She smiled back, wobbly and watery. ‘I feel like complete crap.’

‘You can do it,’ he said, and this time it wasn’t an encouragement, it was a statement. He believed in her. More, perhaps, than she believed in herself.

A few minutes later she was miked and ready to go, and then she was on. She heard the hiss of indrawn breath as she walked onstage. Another surprised, perhaps even outraged, audience. She sat on the stool, stared into the faceless crowd. Swallowed. Her heart hammered so hard it hurt, and she felt a blind panic overwhelm her like a fog. She couldn’t do this.

Then she felt Luke’s presence on the side of the stage, just a few feet away. Strange, impossible even, to feel someone when he didn’t move or speak, yet she did. He felt warm, and his warmth melted away the fog. She glanced sideways, saw his steady gaze, his smile. She took a breath. Blinked. And started to play.

Distantly she heard the rippled murmur of confusion as she began to play a song they didn’t recognise. Her song. But then the song took over and she knew it didn’t matter what anyone in the audience thought. Luke had been right; she wasn’t doing this for them. She wasn’t doing it just for herself, either.

She was doing it for him. Because he was the one person who had believed in her, more than she’d been able to believe in herself. Already he’d given her back her soul; he’d shown her how to reclaim it. She played the song for him, for her, for them .

And when it was over and the last note faded away, you could have heard a pin drop on the marble floor of the lobby. You could have heard the tiniest sigh, because no one did anything. No one clapped.

They didn’t, Aurelie knew numbly, know what to do with her. How to react.

Then, from the side of the stage, she heard the sound of someone clapping. Loudly. Luke . And the sound of his clapping was like the trigger to an avalanche, and suddenly everyone was clapping. Aurelie sat there, her guitar held loosely in one hand, blinking in the bright lights and smiling like crazy. And crying too, at least she was as she walked offstage and straight into Luke’s arms.

He enveloped her in a tight hug, his lips against her hair. ‘You did it. I knew you could.’

She tried to speak, but there was too much emotion lodged in a hot lump in her throat, too many tears in her eyes. So she did what she wanted to do, what she needed to do. She kissed him.

This wasn’t a tentative brush of her lips against his. She kissed him with all the passion and hope, the gratitude and joy that she felt. She dropped her guitar and wrapped her arms around him, and Luke took her kiss and made it his own, kissing her back with all he felt too.

It was, Aurelie thought dazedly, the most wonderful kiss.

The rest of the evening passed in a happy blur. Luke kept her by his side, introducing her to various officials and dignitaries, and for once in her life Aurelie didn’t feel like the pop star performing for another sceptical crowd. No, with Luke next to her, she simply felt like herself. A woman whose hand was being held by a handsome and amazing man.

She was, Aurelie thought distantly, halfway to falling in love with him. It didn’t seem possible after such a short time, and yet she felt the truth of it inside her, like a flame that had ignited to life. She never wanted it to go out.

And yet what did she want? The memory of that passionate kiss by the side of the stage had seared itself into her senses, but she still felt her insides jangle with nerves at the thought of what else could happen. What she wanted to happen … and yet was afraid of, both at the same time.

Despite her wonder and worry about what might happen later, she still enjoyed every minute of the evening spent by Luke’s side. A dinner for the VIP guests had been arranged in the conservatory on top of the store, with the lights of Singapore stretched out in a twinkling map on three sides, and the bay with its bobbing yachts and sailing boats on the other. A silver sickle moon hung above them, and she felt the warm pressure of Luke’s hand on the small of her back.