Rage (3 page)

Baby Liam, he pulled out his phone and handed it to her.

“I want to know how people as svelte as Cheyenne and Scot

produced such a rotund spawn.” Phillip stated as Steph flipped

through his pictures. She cooed and carried on for a bit in her

typical exuberant manner. He was still a bit overwhelmed by her

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reaction to Liam. He’d had no idea she liked children so much.

They’d never talked about whether she wanted kids. Come to

think of it, they’d never talked about the future at all. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure Steph had even known she liked kids until

the moment she first held Liam in her arms.

She giggled and the sweet sound lightened his mood. “Look

at that chubby little pork chop! I just want to chew on that fat little leg!”

“You and your cannibalistic tendencies…” He smirked and

after she placed his phone on the dash, he was forced to grasp

ahold of her tiny hand as it wandered up his thigh driving him to distraction.

As they drew nearer to their destination, he wiped sweat

from his brow and realized his hands were shaking.

Fucking brilliant. You sing in front of hundreds of thou-

sands of people and don’t bat an eyelash, but a tiny American
ginger makes you fall apart!

When he slowed to make the turn, he saw Steph’s brows

knit. She turned to him, momentarily confused. The landscaping

was dramatically different since the last time they’d been here, and they’d approached on foot-and in the rain. The cottage had a long lane that crossed a traditional humped-back bridge over a

sparkling stream. Though it was remote-located on 6 private

acres, he’d had extra trees and shrubbery planted to make the

cottage invisible from the road. He knew it seemed paranoid, but he very much hoped that the tabloids would never discover their

secret home. As they rounded the curve, the freshly white-

washed cottage came into view. Its bright red door reminded him

of an inviting valentine. Steph sucked in a loud breath.

“Oh, my God, Phillip!” Her cheeks blushed a rosy pink. She

leaned forward, her wide eyes darting everywhere in blatant

astonishment. Then a bright smile lit up her face. “Someone

fixed it up!”

He tried to keep a poker face and his response was simple.

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TAMMY COONS & MICHELLE PACE

“Yep.”

“Wow. They ripped off the porch! That’s probably a good

thing.” She laughed, and remembering how she’d tripped over

the dilapidated boards and fallen in the mud, he joined her. He

pulled up next to the cottage and parked. When he turned off the ignition and looked at her, she was no longer laughing. She

gazed at him wordlessly, unshed tears standing in her eyes.

“I can’t believe you rented our cottage.” She took him com-

pletely off guard by scrambling onto his lap and nearly knocking the car out of gear. He gladly accepted the spoils of her happiness as she attacked him with kisses.

“It’s mine. I bought it.”

Her blue eyes widened, and he watched the wheels turning

as she processed the implications. “That’s just… so…”

“Romantic?” His breathing felt labored as she gripped his

hair and looked him in the eye. He was deeply touched by her

uncharacteristic display of vulnerability. She seemed genuinely

moved, but recovered quickly and batted her eyelashes at him

with a cheeky smile.

“I was gonna say hot. But it
is
romantic as hell.” The soft look in her eyes didn’t match her brash words. She leaned in, and her lips teased his slowly and gently. Then with a contented sigh she nuzzled into him. He inhaled deeply, the peppermint scent of her hair enveloping him like a warm blanket. Cradling her pos-sessively, he smiled, knowing that they would both remember

this trip for the rest of their lives. For a moment, he tried to simply savor her closeness rather than worry about the execution of

his plans. He was tempted to take Cheyenne and Cedric’s advice

and ask her here at the cottage, in front of the fireplace with a glass of wine. As tempting as the prospect seemed, he cast the

idea aside. He couldn’t buckle this close to the finish line. If there was one thing he was an expert on, it was showmanship.

He reached out and popped the door handle.

“Come. I want to show you the bedroom.”

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They entered through the red front door. She inhaled sharp-

ly and stopped in her tracks causing him to nearly bump into her.

He didn’t blame her; he’d had the same response when he first

set foot inside after its completion. What had once been a dusty, forgotten shack had been transformed into a quaint and cozy refuge. Polished wood floors, chalk white walls, and fresh flowers

greeted them.

“It’s perfect.” Steph said in a soft, resigned whisper. She

dropped her purse on the floor then carefully placed her camera

bag on the table. Then she was in his arms kissing him again

with all her might. Just as he was about to rip open his fly and bend her over the couch, she pulled away with a wide grin.

“I’m going to take a look around.”

It was his turn to let out a frustrated moan. She winked at

him saucily and vanished into the hall with her suitcase rolling behind her. He turned to survey the cottage for the provisions

he’d requested. The caretakers had stacked wood in the hearth

per his request, and as he lit it, he heard her footsteps on the stairs. He took some cheese, fruit and a bottle of wine from the icebox and popped the cork. Doubt wriggled in the back of his

mind. Should he pop the question here and now and have the

moment be theirs alone? He could whisk her away to the Carib-

bean for a wedding on the beach, just the two of them and the

setting sun. As appealing as this idea was to him, he quickly

dismissed the idea. Someone like Stephanie Brier required some-

thing bigger and flashier than that.

He sent a quick “thank you” text to the caretakers for their

impeccable attention to detail. Slipping his phone into his jacket, he took it off and tossed it over the arm of the closest chair. Now where the hell had she disappeared to? He was certain he’d heard her come back down the stairs, so he wandered into the master

bedroom. Her suitcase was open on the hope chest at the foot of

the bed. He heard the shower running in the bathroom, so he

kicked off his shoes and collapsed onto the king-sized bed with a 13

TAMMY COONS & MICHELLE PACE

contented sigh. Closing his eyes, he slowly felt the weight of the day lift from him. She was here. Here was perfect. The stars had aligned, and all was right with the world.

Freshly showered, Steph was blow-drying her hair upside

down, but uprighted herself as a flash of vertigo gripped her. As she steadied herself on the sink, she blinked at her reflection in the mirror. Flashing lights floated across her vision as she

watched her flaming waves fall around her shoulders. Thankful-

ly, the ninja dizziness vanished as quickly as it appeared. In the past twenty-four hours, she’d almost fell down on two separate

occasions. She scrambled to pop an Andes Mint in her mouth.

and the queasiness lessened. It was probably low blood sugar

from lack of food. Lately she’d been way too busy to eat right.

She’d been traveling a lot, including a recent laborious jaunt to Japan. She’d only been back in her New York apartment for a

couple of days when she got the call that Cheyenne’s water had

broken, so she had assumed her abdominal issues were probably

due to jet lag, exhaustion, and bad sushi.

However, since arriving in the U.K., she’d had some dull

pains in her right side. Fucking cramps. Her period wasn’t due

for another month, and the last thing she wanted was to have it

early. She glanced at her pill case. Steph had often wished she’d invested in stock in the pharmaceutical company that created her birth control pill that let women have only four periods a year. If she ever met the scientist who’d created the drug, she’d kiss him right on his geeky little mouth.

It probably didn’t help that she was experiencing a serious

lack of appetite. She knew she should have eaten something to-

day, but hospital vending machine food turned her stomach. So

at the moment her body was fueled on wretched day-old coffee,

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two crackers, and the mint she’d just had. A shower to wash

hospital germs off of her had been much higher on her list of

priorities. She suspected she looked hideous, based on Phillip’s responses to her. Lately he seemed a bit put off by her appearance, even though she’d been on a diet for the last two months.

She’d just wanted to drop ten pounds, but somehow she’d over-

shot her goal and lost 20. She figured she should just be happy

about it. Even if it was a losing battle, with a boyfriend like Phillip, she’d have to try keep up with those models who were al-

ways hanging around backstage.

Phillip had been acting distant and distracted last month

when he met her in New York and the month before that when

she’d come to his flat in London. On both occasions he seemed

totally preoccupied. If he hadn’t just bought “their cottage,” she would have thought he was prepping to break things off with her.

As she pulled a “barely there” blue nightie over her head,

she glanced around the lovely yellow bathroom and smiled. He’d

fixed up the cottage just the way she would have. Her mind was

officially blown. She never imagined she’d see this place again, let alone looking so beautiful. Thinking back on their first sexual encounter on the living room floor of this very cabin, she could feel her heart swell in her throat like it was yesterday. She still couldn’t believe that he’d actually bought it.

Phillip’s mushy side really got to her sometimes. He

seemed to have a knack for sweet gestures. If anyone would have

asked if he were capable of anything remotely sweet when

they’d first met, she would have rolled her eyes so hard that she would have given herself a concussion. Once when they’d

hooked up after a concert in San Francisco, she mentioned lov-

ing the Riesling they ordered from room service. She’d arrive

home to find a case of it on her doorstep. And when she called to thank him, his husky response had left her breathless.

“I love to make you smile, Stephanie.”

She felt her eyes growing a little misty. What the hell?

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TAMMY COONS & MICHELLE PACE

Teary eyes twice in one day? Now she knew she was exhausted

and needed a travel break. Since her mother died, she only cried when she had a migraine and when she was furious. She hadn’t

had a migraine in months and she was ecstatic. All she really

wanted was to make Phillip smile. She snatched the keys out of

her purse, and as she opened the bathroom door, it creaked

slightly.

“That hinge could definitely use some oil.” He mumbled

tiredly as he rolled to his side and rubbed his eyes with one hand.

When he opened them, he wore that damn somber expression

again. The one that made her wonder if he wished she’d get a

boob job or something.

“You don’t like it.” She glanced down at her silk nightgown

and felt like she was under a microscope. She noticed him blush

and look down at the bed.

Fuck! He’s not attracted to me anymore!

His blue eyes met hers again, and she saw raw emotion in

them.

“You look amazing.” He sounded sincere, and relief en-

gulfed her like the warm waters of a steam bath. She crept to-

ward the bed with her hands behind her back.

“I have a surprise for you.” Her coy words made his eye-

brow twitch in a naughty way that had her wondering how she

ever could have doubted him. For a moment he looked thought-

ful and then he sat up.

“I have one for you, too.” He seemed somber, but his eyes

were still warm.

“Me first.” She smiled and sprang onto the bed. He reached

out and grabbed her, swiftly pinning her to the bed.

“Right, then. Do tell.” His words were slightly muffled as

his lips traveled from her jaw to her chest. The sensations his lips created were more than a little distracting. Exhaling a ragged

breath, she pulled the keys out from behind her back and dangled them in his face.

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“I’m moving to Europe!” She beamed.

He blinked at the keys, his face frozen. “Wh…what?”

Once again, his expression could not have been interpreted

as positive. He seemed distressed and annoyed by her an-