He was waiting for her in the hallway as she walked beside Mike. The arena was emptying, but there were still a lot of people milling around. His black eyes seared through her as she read anger and disappointment. He moved toward her, reached for her hand, and pulled her into an empty room to his right. Slamming the door behind her and in Mike’s face, he grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her hard.

Instinct overruled everything else, and she yanked from his grasp. In doing so, she lost her balance and stumbled. The door helped her stay on her feet. She used it to push off and whip around so fast, he didn’t have time to react. Her hand rose, her fingers balled into a fist, and she punched him squarely in the stomach. For long seconds, neither of them spoke.

Skyler took a few steps back, her hands coming up to cover her face as his automatically went to hold his stomach. Although she was surprised by her own actions, anger ran through her, and she couldn’t stop the words from spewing out. “If you ever touch me like that again, in any way, so help me, Blaze, I’ll take that precious electric guitar of yours and stuff it so far up your butt that you’ll be tuning it with your tonsils! Do you understand me? How dare you shake me like that!” Her breath was short and rapid, her words ending when she couldn’t find the right expletive to continue.

His hand still over his gut, he said, “Shake you… I should take you over my knee and—”

“And what?” she asked, standing up taller, pushing her shoulders back and the hair from her eyes. “How dare you presume to man handle me like that and for what reason? Your behavior is completely inappropriate.” Her voice had risen, and she fought to control herself and her anger.

“My behavior? Don’t you get it? It’s dangerous to vanish like that, to go off wandering around alone. Don’t you understand there are people out there who would hurt you? I was…” Blaze pulled himself up short and stopped the rest of what he was going to say. He took several deep breaths. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shaken you, but when you disappeared and nobody could find you, my first thought was—”

“Was what? That I got lost, that I left, what?” She held his gaze, noting first anger then resentment. Her punch had taken the fight out of him and gave her a glimpse of something in his look she was almost afraid to acknowledge. He couldn’t be worried about her, could he? The passing thought ran through her that he really cared about her. Pushing the idea away, Skyler drew several deep breaths, fighting for control of her emotions. She knew she couldn’t let him see how strong her feelings for him were.

“Never mind, Skyler. I said I was sorry. I won’t ever touch you like that again.” He stared at her, and she felt he was sincerely sorry for his approach, but she was still unsure what had triggered it. In the last several days she’d often wandered the crowd before and after his performance. Why had tonight been different?

And then she knew. Without him saying a word, she knew it was because of the kiss they’d shared when he came off stage.

But that was exactly why she’d left his dressing room when the onslaught of fans and reporters came in.

“I have to finish up some interviews. Will you still be here when I’m finished?” Each word seemed difficult for him to enunciate. She realized he was holding a short leash on his temper. He looked away, and she knew she was right. The kiss had changed the tender balance they had struck between them.

“Yes, but I’ll wait here if you don’t mind, instead of going back to the party.” His hand rose toward her, and she didn’t flinch when he stroked her cheek. Dark eyes met her aqua ones, and he hesitated but didn’t speak. He only nodded as he slipped past her and out the door, shutting it behind him with just a slight bit too much force. She moved to the seating area of the empty dressing room.

Skyler tried to put perspective to what happened, and she couldn’t quite get it. Why was he so mad tonight? Why send Mike to look for her, and most of all his show of brute force was something she never expected from him. Sinking down onto the old sofa in the corner, she tried to piece together the missing information. Only one thing was different; tonight, after his performance, he’d kissed her, and she’d kissed him back. Not just a peck or an exploratory journey, the kiss they’d shared was one of passion and lust. It was also exactly why she’d left, and she suspected that kiss was the reason why he’d lost his ever-present composure.

Skyler buried her head in her hands and thought back over the past few days and accepted the bond they’d forged. It wasn’t just a kiss, she decided; it was a prelude to something more. Something she wanted more than anything else in her life. She wanted Blaze Sheridan the man, not the performer, and she wanted him for herself, not for her story or the interview. She wanted him just for herself.

The realization made her cringe and warmed her at the same time.

Blaze. The very man who grated on her nerves at every turn, the same man who tried to run rough shod over her each day, and the one man who held her close to him each night. Regardless of all that and in spite of their jobs, Skyler wanted him for herself.

Watching him kiss and joke and smile for pictures with all of the groupies after the concert had been too much for her to tolerate tonight. After that kiss they’d shared…

Wondering how it all got so out of hand so quickly, she thought back to the night she joined the tour.

Chapter One

One week earlier.

Waiting patiently beside the bus as instructed, Skyler locked her gaze with his as soon as he left the building. Voices behind her called and hollered to him, but he ignored their cries for attention. Although she’d been prepared, seen his photograph often and listened to his concert from the recesses of the arena, she wasn’t ready for the intense anger she read in his eyes. Holding his gaze for a second longer, she refused to blink first and returned his look with what she hoped came off as confidence and maybe a little defiance. His hand came up to the crowd one last time before he looked back with his famous smile, the swoon from the women behind him audible.

Skyler was all but propelled onto the bus, the man behind her nudging gently when she hesitated to let her eyes adjust to the low light. She heard a male voice grumble behind her, and she pushed forward. Seeing a sitting area to her left, she dropped into a seat and slung her computer case across her chest, tugging her large tote bag onto her lap and clearing the aisle.

Several deep breaths later, the chaos around her finally settled somewhat. Taking the opportunity to scan her new surroundings, she realized she wasn’t on just another bus but rather a mobile office that was his home while he was on tour. The interior of the private bus was maroon and beige, appointed with luxury leather club chairs and sofas, and all the newest video and audio equipment on the market. Satellites connected him to the Internet and the world. There was even a wet bar.

A partition was closed effectively blocking out the driver. Beside her, Harry spoke into his hands free cell telephone, efficiently barking out orders while reviewing the computer print out in his hands. His stocky body and compact movements matched the voice she’d spoken with before by phone. Seeing him now, she held back a smile as he reminded her of the comedian, Drew Carey. Only Harry’s sense of humor had been packed away with the rest of the equipment and luggage. She knew Harry was the reason she’d finally been given space on the tour. Whatever magic words he’d spoken to his boss, they’d ultimately worked since she’d been allowed her access.

Another man she didn’t know was stowing equipment and gear into overhead bins. Harry tossed a small plastic remote control to her and nodded toward the flat screen television hung on the wall behind the driver. She found the power and then pushed the last channel button. The all news station told her calmly what was going on in the world.

Her bag was taken from her lap and stowed in a bunk area farther toward the back of the bus. She was about to tell the second man that she needed her notebook and recorder from it but thought better after seeing the look on his face. His tired eyes implored her not to make whatever request she had begun. She figured she’d retrieve the items later. As it was, she knew she was the extra baggage on this trip. She was just along for the ride so to speak, feeling it was unfair that her interview was considered an inconvenience.

All of the arrangements had been made in advance with her editor. The contract had been signed and returned. This assignment should have been well behind her now, six months behind her to be exact, but Blaze Sheridan’s team of lawyers had kept them embroiled in months of debate about access and pre-approval of her written material. If they didn’t want her there to do this story then they shouldn’t have committed to it. It was black and white to her. She had a job to do, and she’d do it. This wasn’t the first time she’d been in a situation with people who didn’t want her around. What they didn’t understand was it only made her resolve so much stronger.

The numerous telephone calls from Blaze himself had been unexpected. He’d grilled her at first, testing the information from her background check. When he found no glitches to use as his excuse to cancel, he tried using a more personal approach, indicating that he wanted to get to know her somewhat before allowing her full access to his life. While she was forced to admit it was a reasonable request, it wasn’t the norm. Skyler used the calls to construct a base profile of him for her work. Her only problem was that he didn’t stay consistent with her. One call would be friendly and informative, the next combative. Ultimately, he’d pulled the sex card on her. He’d been brazen in his attempts to be the typical male chauvinist who couldn’t believe a woman could be a good journalist. She’d sent him copies of her award-winning articles and previous work.

In the end, he had no choice but to give her the two weeks agreed upon in the original contract. However, the sensual hints and open questions left her torn. On one hand the man was a scoundrel, suggesting alternative ways for them to spend their time. On the other, she blamed herself for playing along. She’d decided early on to play his game, openly topping each of his innuendos, but somewhere along the way, the game got out of hand, became more real. The sexual tension between them was new to her, especially since they’d never met. From a different perspective, she decided she was an adult, and if a relationship of some type did happen, it would be her choice, not his.

If the truth be told though, for the first time in a long time, Skyler Grant wanted a man. Worse yet, she wanted this man, the great and powerful Blaze Sheridan, but so did a lot of women…fans. She wasn’t cut out to be one of his millions of adoring fans. She was a professional and had to stick to business. Her only hope was to bluff her way through and not show him her true feelings. It seemed ironic to her to hide her true self because that was exactly what she was demanding from him. These feelings were new to her, and she wasn’t comfortable with the desire or the downright ache she felt after one of their talks. Vulnerable didn’t work for Skyler. She’d never been a prude, but sex just wasn’t a big deal. Deciding once she met him in person, she’d be able to conquer her wanton cravings, and her work would come naturally.

Movement caused her to glance to the side as the building got smaller in her line of vision. No going back now, she knew, unless they just dropped her off on the side of the road somewhere. It was always a possibility. It had even happened once. But that was a long time ago, and they had been very apologetic when her story came out. Mood swings were not her problem. Getting the story was. Toughing it out wouldn’t be anything new to her. She’d gone along with their one bag rule, and she’d promised to stay in the background and out from under foot as much as possible. The lights of the arena were behind her now. She knew they would take the turnpike north and travel through the night.

There was something about Blaze Sheridan that annoyed her like a bug bite you had to scratch until it bled. His dark hair and black eyes gave him a domineering allure on stage, but back stage in the harsh light, it only made him look more elusive. Here in his private space on his tour bus, she knew she had to assert herself from the start if he was going to be honest with her for the interview. If she didn’t, she might as well let herself off at the next stop. She wasn’t looking for another fluff piece about a hot shot rock and roller. She was looking to find out about the man behind rock star, the man he kept so elusive from the public.

* * * * *

Blaze ran his fingers through his long black hair, the motion natural to him.

One look at the reporter as she was boarding the bus and he acknowledged he was in trouble. Why had he let Harry talk him into this? Why hadn’t his highly paid lawyers broken the contract that Russell had arranged? Or at least got rid of the clause that allowed her into his private space?

For the two weeks!

It would be much better if she rode with the backup band or the road crew, but instead, he’d be saddled with her for weeks. If only she hadn’t had those aqua eyes, he might have been all right or been able to tune her out as just another female with an agenda.

Instead her brown hair and dark skin accentuated the lightness of her eyes. They almost seemed to look through him, as if she were staring at his very being with each glance. He hardened once again, and anger rushed through him. Why now? Why her? He’d had this all under control for three years now, and he didn’t need some reporter kicking his hormones into overdrive.

In two weeks, he’d take a break, a well deserved two weeks off before continuing with the last leg of the tour. In two weeks he’d be able to think of a lot of things to do with her and to her, but not now, not when so much depended on him.

Visions of the last time he let a woman get too close while he was touring went through him like a hot knife on warm butter. He’d almost lost everything that time, and he’d be damned if he’d let it happen again. The problem was that with one look at Skyler’s photograph, he’d been intrigued. He’d been downright enthralled with her. There was a vulnerability about her in the candid shots he’d reviewed. While her formal shots were more stoic and much the work of a glamour studio, something about her hit him on a base level when she’d been caught with her guard down.

That was when he’d started making the damn phone calls, supposedly to get to know her a little—never letting on that her image was burned into his brain or that after the first call, he’d known what the ultimate result would be. The tone of her voice was embedded within him.

Skyler wouldn’t let him push her around. She’d stood her ground and never shied away from his verbal innuendos. Hell, she’d made him squirm a few times with her suggestions. Calling his bluff wasn’t what he’d anticipated, but it was what he’d gotten.

So here he was, strapped with her for two weeks in close quarters, and her basic opinion of him was that he was a scoundrel as previously reported. While he had perpetuated the rumors and his access to women was without bounds, only he knew the women who threw themselves at him never stood a chance. Blaze would only tolerate a woman who stood up for herself, someone who kept her identity instead of feeding off of his, a woman who spoke her mind without fear of offending him. He’d seldom found anyone like that, but Skyler Grant fit the profile, and now that she was here, he suspected trouble came with her.

The idea had come to him quickly. It should be simple—let her think he was the epitome of all the stories she’d heard before, and let her write the same old things while he kept his private life to himself. He’d dismissed the plan and accepted it several times during their calls.

Somehow he sensed his scheme wouldn’t work with Skyler Grant. Tonight, after seeing her in person, a new idea brightened his eyes. She wanted him to open up and reveal his life to her for two weeks, to get the low down on the real Blaze Sheridan. Well, he decided, two could play at the same game. She wanted access, so did he.

Quid Pro Quo!

With a small laugh to himself he saw the next weeks unfolding around him, self-preservation prominent. Harry would be angry with him, but he didn’t care. He might have to have this woman glued to his side for the next leg of the tour, but he didn’t say he wouldn’t ask anything of her. Pleased with his epiphany, he was surprised when there was a light knock on his door and it opened before he had a chance to answer.