They didn’t make it to the lobby until half an hour later, which Marcus was not happy about. So angry, actually, that he didn’t even say a word to either of them. He only swiveled on his heels and stalked away, leaving Michael sighing and Liz resisting the urge to snicker behind her hand.
Apparently, they had missed their flight, and would have to travel with the orchestra on the road. They went onto a large tour bus, and Liz was hit by the oddness of the situation. In all her life, she had never once thought she would be walking on to one of these—which was basically a giant, upgraded RV—but here she was. And it wasn’t even for work. It was to follow behind a man she was having sex with. The thought had her lingering at the threshold.
“Uh, Liz?” came Michael’s voice. “You have to actually go all the way into the bus or Marcus just might pop a blood vessel.”
She almost said it out loud. She almost told him what was on her mind, what had made her pause. She almost revealed to him that she was having second thoughts about this, and damn near an identity crisis, but she didn’t. Not that she couldn’t, just didn’t. Forced herself not to. Because if she did, it would mean she was starting to trust him, and trust wasn’t something Liz gave out lightly.
She forced her leaden feet to move, not bothering to answer him at all. Almost as if it was tangible, she could feel his worry and confusion rising behind her, but she didn’t turn to face it. Instead, she dumped her bag to the side, and pulled out her laptop. Michael eased himself next to her.
“Marcus, you’re being incredibly rude,” Michael said with a heavy sigh. He plopped his cheek onto his hand, glaring at his manager though Liz was sure there wasn’t an angry bone in his body. “You haven’t said a word to us since we came down.”
“You don’t deserve anything I have to say.”
“Ouch.” Michael winced. “And here I was thinking we’ve been through thick and thin together and nothing could possibly tear us apart.”
Marcus didn’t answer him this time. He was concentrating on his phone. Michael groaned aloud. “Marcus,” he began again but was cut off when Marcus held up one finger.
He put his phone to his ear. Liz, who was trying her best to ignore the both of them, nearly cracked a smile. Somehow, she got the impression they were like brothers, Michael the obviously annoying younger one, and Marcus the older one laden with responsibility.
She couldn’t believe she was actually here. It was all she could think about, and she could hardly focus on the laptop before her. She pulled it out to do some work, to try to make this eight or nine-hour trip without being completely unproductive. Just because her main task was to find Alessandro didn’t mean she couldn’t get rid of the other things she’d left on her desk before Harold had forced her into vacation. Now that that was off the table, she could get right back down to it.
Except, it was hard to focus. Marcus slid out of his chair, walking away and blatantly ignoring Michael’s attempts to get him to talk to him. Michael didn’t follow after him. He kept his seat next to her, sighing, and she knew that any second now, he would turn to her for conversation. She hated that she was waiting for him to do it, that her eyes kept darting toward him, and her body was poised to face him. She should be focusing on her work, but instead, she wanted to talk to him.
Just talk, which was even odder. If she was being governed by her uncharacteristically high sexual urges, it shouldn’t have been that bad. That was normal. That was human. That was annoying, but it was something she could deal with. And it was there, somewhere under the surface, despite the fact that they’d been together less than an hour ago. But it wasn’t what was dominating her distraction. It was just him, plain and simple. It was her weird need to talk to him.
“Don’t let Marcus bum you out, Liz,” his voice broke through. Liz tried and failed to keep her eyes focused on her laptop screen. “He knows how to hold a pretty big grudge but he’ll be over it in no time. We just have to wait him out.”
“Sounds like you’re telling yourself that more than you’re telling me,” she murmured. “He isn’t upset with me.”
“Yeah, no doubt.” Michael ran a hand down his face. “I’ll talk to him later.”
“You must stress him out pretty often.”
“I don’t know if I’d call it stress. I would say I just keep him on his toes.”
“Keep him any more on his toes and he just might topple over one day.”
“Aw, I’m not that bad.”
Liz shot him an incredulous look.
Michael’s eyes widened in surprise and betrayal. “You think I’m that bad?”
“I don’t know anything. I only just got here.”
“But…?”
She looked at him evenly. “But nothing. You know your own manager and I’m sure you aren’t so immature and insensitive to not care how your actions affect him.”
For a second, she wondered if her words were a bit too severe. But before she could even wonder why she cared when she normally didn’t, Michael said, “You have siblings, don’t you?”
“Why do you say that?”
“You scream big sister. Call it my great, big intuition but I can tell everything you just said didn’t come out of nowhere.”
She paused a bit before she answered. What harm would there in telling him the truth? “I do. I have a sister.”
“How old is she?”
“She’s only a year younger than me.” She pressed on without hesitation, leaning back. She wasn’t even going to bother with work anymore because it was no hope. “But sometimes, you wouldn’t think I’m the older one.”
“Yeah? She’s just like you? Or worse?”
“Worse?” She crooked a brow at him. “What do you mean worse?”
“Exactly what you think I mean,” he said with a grin. “Demanding, bossy, thinks she’s superior to everyone around her.”
“I don’t know where you got that nonsense from.”
Michael laughed. “If it makes you feel any better, I find all of those things very beguiling. They make you… super sexy.”
She hated how her chest flared with heat at those words. “It doesn’t matter what you think,” she declared, half to herself. “But no, she’s nothing like me. She’s more… warm-hearted.”
“Aha! So, you know you’re cold-blooded, then.”
“I can admit I can be a little harsh sometimes.”
“That’s all I wanted to hear.” Somehow satisfied, Michael leaned back. He draped his arm over the back of the seat, stretching around her head. She looked at him. He blinked innocently at her.
She was about to throw up a protest, but then he leaned closer and whispered into her ear, “The bus might look small but I’m sure we can find someplace quiet.”
Her heart trembled at his words. “Is that all you think about?”
“After having a taste of you, Liz, I’m not sure I can think about anything else.”
“That’s going to make your performance a bit difficult, don’t you think?”
“I think we can find a way around that. With your help, of course.” He reached closer and nuzzled her ear with her spine. It made her shiver.
“I think you’re developing a problem, Michael,” she murmured.
Michael laughed against her ear. “I am becoming a bit addicted, yes.”
Good. At least she wasn’t in the boat alone. “Marcus will be watching us.”
“Marcus is more preoccupied with getting everything set up before we arrive. He won’t even be looking at us. He just wants to know that I’m on the bus.”
“He might be able to hear you too. If I do my job right.”
His grin was wicked. “And if I do my job right, you’ll be screaming my name like you were last night.”
It was true. She had screamed his name. The effect of their lovemaking was still evident in the scratches on his back from nails she always tried to keep short. At the thought of it, she wasn’t turned off by having Marcus—or anyone else on the bus—hear her. She wanted to reach that peak again and knew Michael would do the job.
Did she think she was becoming insatiable? She was damn near as addicted as he was.
There weren’t many things Liz regretted in her life. She had made it this far without that mundane annoyance, having been successful in all her academic and work pursuits. She always had a knack for making the right choices and those choices rarely ever failed her. But for the first time, she was seriously wondering if this was a wise choice, or if she’d been foolishly thinking with her heart.
The bus was pulling up to Tearto Massimo, around the back to bypass the beautifully dressed people already flooding the front doors. The stab of regret hit her again as she stared out the window. This time, she wasn’t sure what the source was. At first, she thought she was regretting the fact that she hadn’t gotten to be with Michael again since Marcus had dragged him away to prep him for his performance. That should have been a good thing, since Liz now had the time and headspace to focus on her work, but she found herself waiting impatiently for his return.
Now, she regretted even agreeing to this trip in the first place.
She had nothing to wear. It wasn’t until they arrived at the theater did she realize that upsetting fact. Her bag didn’t consist of much, only overnight clothes and a few essentials. In her haste to pack this morning, she had completely forgotten that a theater was her destination. Which meant she would have to be all dolled up like everyone else.
That oversight made her both worried and angry. Liz never overlooked things like that. It just wasn’t in her nature, and something as basic as that shouldn’t have gone unnoticed.
But she was too distracted.
Her distraction was behind her, already dressed in his impeccable black tuxedo. It was a struggle not to stare at him and she instead returned her gaze to her laptop, trying to focus. Tonight, he would cast the audience under a spell, just as he had in Naples. He would weave a tale with his music and bring forth emotions with every stroke of his hand. She wanted to be there, if only to experience that again. But her distraction was making it very difficult to do the things she should, and she needed time. She needed to steady herself, regain some kind of solid footing.
“Liz.” She didn’t move at his voice, though every sense came alive. A second later, she could feel him over her shoulder. “Liz, aren’t you going to get ready?”
“I forgot to bring clothes,” she said, cocking her chin up. “I’m just going to hang out in here and finish up some work.”
“You can’t do that. You came to watch me perform, remember? It doesn’t matter what you wear. You look beautiful in anything.”
Liz merely stared at him. God, he was so handsome. “I can’t go to an orchestra in jeans, Michael.”
“Who says? Who made that a rule around here?”
“The same people who’ll turn me away when I try to walk through those doors. No dress, no service.”
Michael slid into the seat before her. “You’ll be coming backstage with me. No one will see you.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he took her hand. The action shocked her into silence. “You have to be there, Liz. I want you to be there.”
Any other time, any other person, she would have continued saying no. And the word was right on the tip of her tongue too, because she wanted to refuse. She needed to. But she knew she couldn’t, and she swallowed it, meeting his eyes with a nod. “Fine. If it’ll get you to stop whining.”
“Great!” He leapt to his feet, planting a kiss on her cheek before she could react. “I have to get going before Marcus drags me out by my ear. The show starts in fifteen minutes, are you coming?”
She put down her laptop. His kiss burned her cheek. She could stress about that later. For now, she just got to her feet and followed him outside.