discomfort intensified.
“Hey—” the casual way Dalton said the word alerted Hollie to the fact that there was nothing casual about what was coming next “—I may be able to get us tickets to see Beast. Some guy I know has contacts. Not quite front row, but not bad.”
Not quite front row. It summed up her feelings about Dalton. She hadn’t realized it until now, but she wanted front row. Actually, she wanted center stage. The thought coincided with the sound of a car pulling into the drive. “I’m not sure when I’ll be back, but thanks for the thought.”
She ended the call with that familiar feeling of guilt tugging at the center of her chest. It didn’t matter how often she told herself Dalton was a grown man—he’s five years older than me—with a successful career, and a wide circle of friends. He always managed to make her feel as if she had blighted his life.
Six months. That’s how long we were together. It was fun, but it didn’t set my world on fire. Speaking of which...
She turned her head as Torque walked into the kitchen carrying a variety of bags. He wore a sweatshirt she had seen him wearing in dozens of photographs. It was copied by fans around the world. Black and red, with an oversize hood, it had an image of a burning guitar on the back.
“I have food and clothes.” He nodded at the phone in her hand. “Was your overprotective friend reassured?”
“I couldn’t get in touch with her.”
He stepped onto the terrace. “What will you do now?”
“I don’t know.” Her voice sounded hollow as she tilted her head to look up at him. She had come here to investigate him, had known him barely a day, so why did keeping secrets from him suddenly feel all wrong? And why did the thought of leaving him feel worse?
“In a few days, I need to join the rest of the band for the start of our tour.”
Hollie bit her lip. “I understand—”
“I don’t think you do.” His lips curved into a smile, the one that warmed her insides and left her feeling slightly breathless. “How would you like to come with me?”
Hollie looked tired and confused as she sat at the kitchen counter sipping coffee and nibbling at a pastry. She had showered and her blond hair was still slightly damp. Torque had done a good job of estimating her size, so at least she now wore sweatpants that stayed up and a pale gray sweater that suited her coloring and clung deliciously to her curves. Despite her pallor and the dark circles under her eyes, he couldn’t drag his gaze away from her face.
“I can’t just tag along on your tour.” Ever since he had made the offer, there had been an underlying emotion about her that he didn’t understand. It was like she was being torn in two different directions. He wished she’d just tell him the truth about who she was.
“Why not?” He leaned against the counter, just close enough to breathe in her warm, soapy scent.
“Because...” She flapped a helpless hand. “What would people think? They would assume I was a groupie, or something.”
“But you’re not. Anyway, why does it matter what other people think?”
She laughed. “That’s so you.”
He shrugged. “Can’t help being me.”
“Torque, I don’t want to seem ungrateful—”
He cut abruptly across her protests. “Where else will you go?”
Hollie hesitated and he got the feeling there was a lot she wasn’t telling him. He wanted to explain to her that he didn’t care. No matter what secrets she was keeping from him, he would fulfill his duty. She was his mate and that meant he had an obligation to keep her safe. But if he told her that, he would have to reveal a whole lot more. Like how he knew she wasn’t safe. And how he had the ability to protect her. From anything.
“I don’t know.” The words were barely a whisper...and clearly a lie.
“Would you feel better if you had a job to do?”
“What do you mean?” Her brow furrowed, but he could see a glimmer of interest in the green depths of her eyes.
“My manager is forever telling me to get myself a personal assistant. I’m offering you the position.”
“But you don’t know if I’m qualified.” Hollie appeared torn between laughter and incredulity. “And do all your bandmates take their PAs on tour? Because that sounds to me like one crowded tour bus...if that’s still how you get around.”
“My job offer, my rules. And yes. We use a bus. It gets a bit crazy, but I’ll be there to look after you. Do you want the position or not?” He leaned over and took one of the pastries, biting into it as he watched her face.
Laughter shook her slender body as she gazed up at him. “I’ll take the job. Although I can’t help thinking you made it up just to give me something to do.”
“You won’t say that when you see my emails and letters.”
Hollie shook her head. “Touring with Beast? This was my wildest fantasy when I was in college.”
Before Torque could answer, the intercom for the electronic gates buzzed and he went to answer it. He pressed a button and an image of a man in uniform filled the screen. “Yes?”
“Jackson Kirk, Fire Investigation. I was told by the paramedics who treated Ms. Brown that she was here. I’d like to speak with her.”
“She is here. But the decision about whether she’s ready to speak with you is hers.” He looked over his shoulder at Hollie, who sat up straighter, nodding her agreement.
Torque pressed the release button on the gates. When he opened the front door, Kirk was striding up the path. Torque got the impression the guy’s shrewd, dark eyes were assessing him, the house and the grounds as he approached. Kirk held out an ID badge and Torque stepped aside to let him pass. He led Kirk through to the kitchen and introduced him to Hollie.
“The fire was started deliberately.” It wasn’t a question. She calmly stated it as a fact.
“How did you reach that conclusion?” Kirk asked.
“Because you’re here.”
Torque watched Hollie carefully as he made more coffee. Where she was concerned, his senses were finely tuned and his protective instincts were razor-sharp. He didn’t need intuition to tell him her behavior was...unexpected. Until now, he’d had no dealings with victims of fire, but he didn’t imagine they were the ones who usually led the conversation with a fire investigator.
“Was the point of ignition at the turn on the staircase?”
Kirk blinked. “Uh...yeah. Looks that way.” He reached into his top pocket, drawing out a small notebook. “Although there were two other ignition points. One inside
