Nonexistent? Why wasn’t Brian—hot, classy, rich, talented, legendary—enjoying warm and willing job perks on a nightly basis? None of her business was why. And she had to play things cool, because he might be able to help her locate and recover the first clear crystal. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
Brian backed away from the counter and collapsed on the couch, resting both hands on the top of his head. His body slackened into the cushions, a physical language that both stirred her empathy and pleased in her in some forbidden way. Brian’s becoming unguarded in her presence, allowing her to see his search for physical comfort, did not go uncatalogued.
Helen took a seat beside him. His legs parted, enough to assert ownership over the space but not enough to convey macho disrespect in the form of the dreaded manspreading. He extended his arms over the top of the furniture. She scooted a few inches closer to his hip as if a magnet pulled her.
He cocked his head and tilted it to one side, surveying her out of the corner of one lidded eye. In that moment, Helen saw Brian’s X factor, the essence of his cool.
Brian didn’t need to flaunt his status to show off, which magnified his potency by a factor of a million. He was stately, composed, polite and kind though not quite warm. And stretched out on the couch, he communicated his prowess without uttering a word. He was the king of rock, unchallenged and free with nothing to prove.
He had a few miles on him, his lightly tanned skin was creased and a bit weathered, but that made his attractiveness that much more poignant. Model hot in his youth, present-day Brian had a mourning angel’s beauty, the look of a rock god past his prime and in full awareness of his age. A portrait of a man, not a denial-filled boy in an older body.
A puff of air, the smallest of audible gasps, broke from her lips. She sat in the presence of a god.
In an imperceptible atmospheric shift, intangible mystique fled through a crack in reality. Brian sighed, shape-shifting to a person once again. “I want to talk to you about these stones. What they are, where you got them, and why you gave two of them to me.”
Comporting herself made for a borderline laughable challenge given the circumstances, but she managed. “A situation with my business kicked the whole thing into motion.”
He lifted one eyebrow in a supreme gesture of British dryness. “What on earth do you do?” Cautious curiosity lifted his speech.
“I’m a yoga teacher. I own a studio with Lisa, the woman I asked you to put on the guest list.” Helen played with her hair, staving off the compulsion to slouch. “Owned, maybe. Not sure if we’re in past or present tense.”
“What happened?” he asked with petal softness, fingers twitching as his eyes roamed from her face to the piece of hair in her hand.
Helen let herself smile in response to his considerate question, though her heart clenched. “I did something stupid.”
“Ouch. I doubt that.”
“Why?” Unintended, her question flew out as a barb. She wrapped her arms over her midsection as if the dart would boomerang back and lodge in her underbelly.
He leaned in an inch closer. “You seem too thoughtful to be stupid.”
Her rogue smile spread. The air thickened to a pleasant perfume, supportive and cocooning. Easy on the eyes, Brian was easy to be around, to talk to. He knew how to listen and wasn’t one of those guys trying to mess with her mind, manipulate, or take advantage. He’d proven his goodness. The spikes on her armor retracted.
“Thank you. I made a mistake, for which I take full responsibility. And then in trying to fix the mistake, I seem to have made another one.”
A rumble stirred in his throat. His Adam’s apple bobbed. A traitorous flush spread between her legs at the sight of his neck captured in movement. How effortless it would be to kiss that inviting column of flesh, kiss her way up to his cut jaw, brush her mouth against masculine lips just plush enough to invite sensual thoughts.
“Which is why you asked me to return that clear crystal.”
The mere mention nullified her lust. “Yes.”
“Tell me they aren’t stolen or trafficked.”
“No. I’m no jewel thief.”
“What’s the gist?”
If he booted her out for the truth, he booted her out for the truth. “I visited a local mystic for help saving my business. Rumor has it she’s a witch, and she gave me a book and told me to drink a potion. She also gave me the crystals to give away to others and, I guess in a moment of impulsiveness, I saw you standing there with Joe and I thought you needed some positive energy.”
Helen masked her wince, waiting for Brian to stand up and show her to the door. Instead, his movement seeming to slow time, he slid the piece of hair she’d toyed with between two of his fingers. Her scalp throbbed with pleasurable awareness, registering his gentle tug.
Particles seemed to vibrate in the inches of space separating his hand from her neck. The promise of his touch on her skin, the absolute slightest of sensory thrills, proved enough to ignite her sex. She was more attracted to him than she’d been to anyone in years. Not that it mattered. Seducing him would escalate a problem into an utter fiasco.
“Your gift worked. I’ve been in a bad way for awhile now, unable to write or make new music. But I don’t know if the power of suggestion kicked in or if I awakened again after realizing someone else cared, or what, but when I was up on that stage tonight, I felt my potential returning. My passion, my breath, my reason. And I’m so sorry I lost your crystal. I looked everywhere, because I wanted that reminder of you up there with me. Wanted to feel it in my
