even inviting him to her hotel room.
Her mother would not be pleased.
She felt nice and loose at least, for the first time since she'd found out she was going on this tour. If only it was just a regular scouting trip, or Nick was just a regular client. Or that he'd actually needed her there, instead of just wanting her.
He did want her though. That much was certain. If he'd turned down a quick roll in the hay then he probably wanted more than she'd initially thought. Right?
Three knocks sounded on the door.
She pushed her hair out of her face and opened it, half expecting to see Nick. Marley stood there with a basket in his hands. He held it toward her.
"Special delivery."
He grinned cheekily as she took the basket. Then he tipped his hat and left.
She carried it inside and set it down on the table. There was a folded note on top. She opened it.
Good morning love. I thought you would enjoy some reading material. I expect you to join me at Galvin at Windows after the show for a late dinner so rest up, relax, and most importantly, read.
Yours,
Nick
Christ, did he think that was funny? Even she knew that Galvins was on the 28th floor of the London Hilton. He already knew she was not a fan of heights. And besides, she hadn't agreed to dinner. She shook her head at his persistence and pulled off the napkin that was covering the contents of the basket.
And froze.
There were dozens of magazines and newspapers inside the basket. From she could tell, they all had the same thing in common.
Her face was on the cover. With his.
Dear God.
She sank to the chair and flipped through the stack. Everyone had a picture of them separately, or together. There were even some in the papers of him helping her out of the limo yesterday. He had a warm look in his eyes while she looked utterly preoccupied.
Crap. Had he really been looking at her like that? He had his heart on his sleeve.
This was more worse than she could have imagined. It took her a few minutes of staring blindly at the basket before she realized that all the headlines were nearly identical. It was the same message, listed over and over again. The message was for her.
DATE NICK!
She choked back a hysterical laugh. What on earth was he playing at? And how had he pulled this off? She picked up a copy of the London Mirror. It was a rag in the true sense of the word; pure sensationalism. Not surprisingly, they had used half the front page to cover the story. After all, this was Nick's home territory.
Lord knows, they adored their prodigal son. There was a picture of a younger Nick smoking a cigarette and looking wild and rangy. Inset inside the image was a close up of her. She was staring straight forward with a slightly aggravated smile. The picture looked familiar somehow. She gasped and ran for her purse, yanking out her wallet.
She fished through it until she found it: her work ID.
My god. They must have gotten it from someone at the label. This was bad. This was very, very bad.
She walked back to the table and sat down again. She picked up the paper and read.
Who is Sabrina Newton? This lucky girl is the object of gorgeous rocker Nick Falcon's affection. Only it seems, she doesn't want him! Nick
Her mother would not be pleased.
She felt nice and loose at least, for the first time since she'd found out she was going on this tour. If only it was just a regular scouting trip, or Nick was just a regular client. Or that he'd actually needed her there, instead of just wanting her.
He did want her though. That much was certain. If he'd turned down a quick roll in the hay then he probably wanted more than she'd initially thought. Right?
Three knocks sounded on the door.
She pushed her hair out of her face and opened it, half expecting to see Nick. Marley stood there with a basket in his hands. He held it toward her.
"Special delivery."
He grinned cheekily as she took the basket. Then he tipped his hat and left.
She carried it inside and set it down on the table. There was a folded note on top. She opened it.
Good morning love. I thought you would enjoy some reading material. I expect you to join me at Galvin at Windows after the show for a late dinner so rest up, relax, and most importantly, read.
Yours,
Nick
Christ, did he think that was funny? Even she knew that Galvins was on the 28th floor of the London Hilton. He already knew she was not a fan of heights. And besides, she hadn't agreed to dinner. She shook her head at his persistence and pulled off the napkin that was covering the contents of the basket.
And froze.
There were dozens of magazines and newspapers inside the basket. From she could tell, they all had the same thing in common.
Her face was on the cover. With his.
Dear God.
She sank to the chair and flipped through the stack. Everyone had a picture of them separately, or together. There were even some in the papers of him helping her out of the limo yesterday. He had a warm look in his eyes while she looked utterly preoccupied.
Crap. Had he really been looking at her like that? He had his heart on his sleeve.
This was more worse than she could have imagined. It took her a few minutes of staring blindly at the basket before she realized that all the headlines were nearly identical. It was the same message, listed over and over again. The message was for her.
DATE NICK!
She choked back a hysterical laugh. What on earth was he playing at? And how had he pulled this off? She picked up a copy of the London Mirror. It was a rag in the true sense of the word; pure sensationalism. Not surprisingly, they had used half the front page to cover the story. After all, this was Nick's home territory.
Lord knows, they adored their prodigal son. There was a picture of a younger Nick smoking a cigarette and looking wild and rangy. Inset inside the image was a close up of her. She was staring straight forward with a slightly aggravated smile. The picture looked familiar somehow. She gasped and ran for her purse, yanking out her wallet.
She fished through it until she found it: her work ID.
My god. They must have gotten it from someone at the label. This was bad. This was very, very bad.
She walked back to the table and sat down again. She picked up the paper and read.
Who is Sabrina Newton? This lucky girl is the object of gorgeous rocker Nick Falcon's affection. Only it seems, she doesn't want him! Nick
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