Jasmine (Kings of Guardian Book 6) Page 8

  “Yeah, sorry, a slip of the tongue, but damn it, Chad, right now isn’t a great time to be out and about. Not with that threat against you. Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

  “Yeah, let the team from Guardian do their job. By the way, this shit falling down on me has made me take a hard look at where I am. I’ve had a bit of an epiphany. I think I’m done with it all, Kirk. This life is a fucking three-ring circus, and it isn’t what I want. Not anymore. I’m taking my life back. I’m meeting Jasmine, finishing my obligations to the label and I’m punching my time card.”

  “Say what?”

  “You heard me.”

  “No… just hang on a minute. You’re quitting? You can’t be serious.”

  “The big top is coming down, my friend.”

  “Dude, really, you need to slow your roll and think about this. The bullshit happening now, it’s temporary. It will pass. Music is your life.”

  “I deserve more than this.”

  “More than this?” Kirk held his arms out and spun around in the grand music room of Chad’s forty-thousand-square-foot mansion. “Dude, you are the fucking king of country music. Your smallest, most insignificant wish is fulfilled in a heartbeat! What in the hell more could you possibly want?”

  The pleasure of waking up with the woman he loved. A home, not a freaking motel-slash-showplace, and maybe children someday. A life that didn’t include sleeping in strange hotel rooms or on the tour bus at least two hundred fifty days a year. The ability to walk down the street or have dinner at a restaurant without being mobbed. Holidays at home with a Christmas tree that he helped decorate instead of a thirty-foot monstrosity that cost a fortune to have someone stage. Hell, those things barely scratched the surface of the more he wanted. Getting his life back was his starting point, though. The rest would follow.

  Chad shrugged and kept his mouth shut. Millicent’s betrayal still stung, fresh, raw and painful. It was like he’d told Kirk. He was done, and he was pretty damn good with that decision, too.

  Kirk must have understood he wasn’t going to get an answer. He let out a huge sigh. “Whatever, dude. Just don’t do anything stupid while you’re upset.”

  Chad waited for the door to close and sent Jasmine the pre-arranged text message. Can’t wait to see you, pick you up at 3:30.

  Chapter Eight

  The plane touched down with a jolt. The immediate air brake pushed everyone in the cabin forward with a lurch. Jasmine closed her eyes and said a prayer of thanks. If her brother or one of the Wonder Twins weren’t piloting the aircraft she was flying on, she rarely made it to takeoff without a prayer or two sent upstairs. The brakes stuttered as the pilot slowed rapidly to make the cross ramp off the active taxiway. Jasmine turned on her phone and texted Chad.

  Just landed.

  She received an immediate text.

  At baggage claim. Large crowd.

  Jasmine had no doubt. It wasn’t the norm for her to do her job on center stage; she was usually behind the scenes. When the aircraft finally parked, Jasmine stood in her four-inch heels and towered over the man in the row in front of her. His eyes were dead level with her breasts. He flushed wildly and tried to move, but was pinned by the people filling the aisles. Jasmine schooled her expression, trying desperately not to laugh. She was jostled from behind and leaned forward, bringing herself just a bit closer. The man made a mewling noise and tried to move out of her way, but only managed a couple of inches. Jasmine cringed inwardly as she retrieved her handbag from above his head in the overhead luggage compartment, hoping the little guy didn’t have a coronary.

  Once the door opened, she followed the rapid pace of the passengers flowing off the aircraft and the signs for baggage claim. She could hear the commotion before she got to the escalator. Somebody below her on the baggage claim floor yelled, “It’s Chad Nelson!” Jasmine smiled and wondered how he was going to play it. However it rolled, she would keep up her end.

  As the escalator lowered, she saw him in his jeans, mirrored sunglasses and ball cap. His broad, muscled shoulders pulled his black t-shirt tightly against his chest. The man was stunning. He smiled hugely as he walked away from a bank of fans that he’d been signing autographs for and moved to the escalator to wait for her. As she walked off the apparatus, he took her hand and pulled her close. The electric shock she’d felt in the office ran through her body again. Chad smiled and slowly lowered his face, taking possession of her lips. His taste and smell swamped her senses. The fans exploded, cheering and screaming his name. She exploded on the inside. Her nerves jolted with the instantaneous chemistry of the kiss. Jasmine took off his hat and ran her fingers through his hair as the crowd of women went crazy. She hadn’t done it for the crowd, but no one needed to know that. Lifting his head, he smiled down at her and loosened his hold. “Hi, baby, you look fantastic.” There were a series of blinding flashes. How the paparazzi had gotten to the airport so quickly was beyond her.

  She reached up and kissed him on the lips softly. “Hi back, stranger. I could say the same.”

  “Where are your luggage claim tickets?” Jasmine reached into her purse for them and handed them to him. Chad waved over a man and handed him the tickets. “Would you please make sure these get to the house?” The man nodded and departed immediately.

  Chad stopped and grabbed her again. He bent her backward, taking her weight in his arms and holding her off the ground as he kissed her deeply in an old-time movie leading-man swoop. The crowd broke into wild screams and applause again.

  With an effort, she relaxed in his strong arms and whispered against his lips, “Aren’t you overplaying this?” Flashes of light illuminated his chiseled features and his eyes. They were cobalt blue and rimmed with the longest, darkest lashes she’d ever seen. God, the man was drop-dead sexy. Chad squeezed her tight, straightened, smiled and winked. He put his arm around her and headed towards the line of his security that was keeping the fans at bay. Jasmine looked over at the little man who had almost face planted in her chest. He blushed fiercely when she winked at him. Jasmine waved and laughed as she linked her arm in Chad’s.

  “Who was that?”

  Jasmine leaned into him and channeled her inner Jade. She shimmied her breasts ever so lightly against his arm. “Somebody who has the exact stature to meet the girls up close and personal. I think he may have had an aneurysm.”

  Chad caught Jasmine by the waist, pulling her forward and past the crowd that was being held back by security. “Damn, right now I’m wishing I was four foot nothing, too.”

  ~~

  The mansion was full of people and Chad introduced Jasmine to everyone. Names blurred, but the faces she tried to catalog. She’d notice a detail or two about each person to peg them into her mind’s eye. The mental flashcards helped to keep known people sorted from unknowns. Chad rolled through band members, backup singers, a chef, housekeepers, and security, most of whom she recognized from Guardian. The introductions droned on through his manager and his manager’s assistant and maybe an assistant to the assistant’s assistant, all while he pulled her through the house and up the grand stairway. She could see no way to protect him from anyone wanting access. The entire situation was unacceptable. Chad led her to his private wing of rooms. She mapped the house and counted steps. He closed the door behind them and grabbed her, pulling her close.

  Jasmine stiffened immediately. Chad lowered his head and whispered in her ear. “Terry will undoubtedly be here with some major concern, scheduling conflict, or drama that he has to talk to me about. He hates not being in the loop, and I sent him into a tailspin when I told him about you this morning. Trust me. He’ll be here, and he needs to see us together.”

  “No respect for your personal space or time?”

  Chad shook his head as he started dancing with her.

  “Umm… excuse me, but aren’t we missing music?”

  Chad smiled and tapped a finger to his temple. “It is always playing in here—notes, tunes, melodies. Sometimes
I can’t get them down on paper fast enough.”

  He led her across the floor and twirled her, pulling her back to him. His eyes closed and he stopped dancing. Jasmine froze, not sure what he was doing. He opened his eyes and beamed a huge smile at her. “That is an awesome riff.”

  He walked to the couch and picked up the guitar, playing several chords and notes, writing them down in one of several spiral notebooks scattered across the huge granite-topped coffee table.

  Okay, note to self, the man is ADD on top of everything else. Jasmine surveyed the windows, noted the adjoining doors, and examined the great room, looking for egress points. The music hall was lined with musical instruments. Guitars were scattered in stands around the seating area. A grand piano was tucked into the far corner. A drum kit behind a Plexiglas shield jutted out from the opposite side of the room. Several electronic keyboards flanked the towering drum set.

  The massive expanse of the room gave a softness to the notes coming from Chad’s guitar. The acoustics sent a shiver down her spine. Ornate decorations caught her attention and reminded her of a turn of the century ballroom. Huge wall sconces dotted the dark hunter green walls. Three gold and crystal chandeliers dangled from ornate ceiling medallions, all of which were outlined by dark wood crown molding joining the walls to the ceiling.

  The double doors opened, and a little bald man burst into the room with his head buried in a folder full of papers. He glanced up, gave Jasmine a dismissive look and returned his attention to the folders. “Chad, we need to work the interview schedules for the CMAs you are scheduled to perform. Additionally, you will be presenting the award for the Breakout Artist of the Year category with Francine Young.”

  Chad put down his guitar and patted the couch next to him. He grabbed her hand as she sat down. He kissed her cheek and covered her hand with his, forcibly pulling her fist apart as he intertwined his fingers with hers. She consciously relaxed her muscles and schooled her features as she watched the little man. The one thing she hated seeing while acting as a personal security officer was the way her primaries were treated by those who were supposed to take care of them. If this man’s disregard for Chad’s personal time and space was any indication, he had a problem.

  “Now, we are scheduled for two after parties, one at Sony, the other at Red Cliff. We have you with Millicent for the red carpet walk and the appearances…”

  “Millicent? Wait, as in my PR manager Millicent?” Chad quizzed the man.

  Terry nodded tentatively.

  “Hell no, I’m not escorting Millicent. Why would I? I’ve never taken her to any events. Cancel that. I’ll be escorting Jasmine to all future engagements.”

  Terry looked up and switched his gaze from Chad to her and back again. Finally, he ended up staring at her and gaping. The little man’s face flushed crimson red. “Listen, no disrespect, Chad, I have had this scheduled with Millicent and Francine’s manager since the schedule came out months ago. I told you when you and Kirk were on that damn video call from Phoenix during the dust storm. You can’t change it now.”

  The singer picked up the guitar and started strumming. “I’ve found that when people preface a sentence with ‘no disrespect’ that is exactly what they mean, Terry. I can change it, and I am. If you said anything about it, I don’t remember it. Jasmine is the only woman I will be seen with in public.”

  The little man’s eyes bulged as he sputtered, “Chad, really, I don’t see how this… this… person… can…”

  Jasmine had to give it to the singer; his reaction was immediate. He stood and spoke with controlled venom. Jasmine took note of that fact. Chad Nelson wasn’t a pushover by any stretch of the imagination.

  “You are walking a thin line, Terry. Listen to me clearly and hear what I say to you, because I will not repeat it. Jasmine is mine. She will be my escort to all functions we are currently obligated to attend. After that, either she or I will decide which ones we will attend. I will not hesitate to find a manager who understands. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Crystal clear, but do you have any idea how much work will go into changing all this? You’ve never cared before. Why would I suspect anything had changed? Until this morning I had no idea she existed. Threatening to fire me because I didn’t know about your friend and doing my job is bullshit, Chad.”

  “No, thinking that I’d ever take Millicent to an event is bullshit, Terry. Telling me who I’ll escort is bullshit. Running my life without any regard for what I want is bullshit. It stops, and it stops now.”

  The little man nodded and trembled with whatever emotion he was suppressing. Jasmine reached out a hand and placed it on Terry’s shaking arm. “I understand my sudden appearance is making things difficult. I told Chad I should have waited to come down, but… perhaps we should all take a break and relax? Can your scheduling wait until tomorrow? I’m positive you could make sure Chad and I are left alone for the rest of the evening so he can relax? We’d appreciate it.” Jasmine watched the cogs click in the little man’s mind. He weighed the options and knew where he needed to land.

  “Of course. I will ensure you are not disturbed for the rest of the evening. We can discuss the schedule tomorrow. Perhaps over lunch?”

  Jasmine smiled sweetly at him and nodded. “That would be wonderful. Thank you so much for being so protective of our private time. It means so much to us.”

  The little man beamed. She could bet he was working the angles in his mind. It was confirmed when a brilliant smile plastered across his face. “Of course, no problem at all. I will see you both for lunch.” He nearly skipped out of the room.

  Chad lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. “Very well played, Ms. Cousins.”

  She leaned back into the couch and sighed. “Most people are easily manipulated.” He pulled her over, and she lay, albeit stiffly, against his chest for a moment. The delicious warmth of his body and his scent surrounded her. Aaannnddd that was enough of that. She pushed away and sat up. “Where’s my room?”

  Chad stroked the back of her arm with a finger. “We’re sharing my room.”

  Jasmine shifted so she could stare at him. “Excuse me?”

  “It is a king sized bed. You can have half of it, and I promise not to ravage you unless you want me to, but if we didn’t share my bed, the love story would be kinda weak, don’t you think?”

  Jasmine got that, but somehow she’d thought… or maybe she hadn’t thought. Damn, being in the same bed? She hadn’t shared a bed since she found out Evan was cheating on her. But this was work. Chad was a client, not a lover, and she was a professional. She’d figure out a way of not making this any more difficult than it already was—maybe.

  “Okay, but there are ground rules.”

  “Such as?”

  Jasmine held up her fingers, “One, sex is not on the table. I am here as protection for you.” There, problem solved.

  The grin on Chad’s face slid off, and he cocked his head. “Go on.”

  She continued, “Two, I will play the doting lover to you and only you. I’m not a wallflower, and I will not be relegated to the corner like some naive sixteen-year-old in a Dirty Dancing movie.”

  He smiled slightly. “And?”

  She held up the third finger. “When this is over we part company—permanently and irrevocably. You go back to being the wild ass country star you are, and I slip back into the shadows that I love living in.”

  He shook his head. “Afraid I can’t deal with those conditions, and as they were not part of the original agreement, I don’t think you have a leg to stand on.”

  Whatthehelldidhejustsay? “You can’t be serious.”

  Chad shrugged nonchalantly. “This is on you. Your one condition for this little scheme when we started it was that I could convince people you were my love interest. When you set that condition, sex between us was not taken off the table. I’m not going to do anything to force you to have sex with me, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try everything I know to make you wa
nt me as much as I want you. I don’t agree to rule number one, and I intend to make every attempt to break your resolve at the earliest possible opportunity. Rule number two won’t be a problem. Watch, listen, do whatever you need to do until we interact as a couple. At that time, I’m the one who takes the lead. Always. Rule number three is also moot. I may be portrayed as a wild ass country star, but I assure you my partying days are long past. I’m a simple country boy, and sweetheart, you are far too beautiful to live in the shadows.”

  Jasmine stood and looked at the man reclining on the couch. “This little scheme? You mean the one where I protect your ass? The one where I’m here to make sure you don’t die? Well, wake up and take notice, Mr. Singer Dude. You don’t have much choice in the way this goes down. If I decide I’m out, Guardian swoops in and your world implodes. You will be a captive within these walls until you are exonerated or charged, and your stalker is caught. So, since we have those points settled, would you please show me the bedroom so I can unpack and freshen up?”

  Jasmine didn’t trust the confident, self-assured look on the musician’s face. He smiled that patented stage smile and led her through the cavernous music hall and out the double doors she had noticed before the manager had blasted into the room.

  The master bedroom was just as vast as the music hall. The same hunter green adorned the walls, but the masculine touches to the room changed the ambiance from turn of the century opulence to a dark, wood-warmed retreat. The king sized bed was elevated and had steps leading up to the mattress. Shades of green and blue colored the expensive Aubusson carpets, floor-to-ceiling drapes and exquisitely covered furniture that formed a conversation group by the freestanding fireplace. Jasmine took it all in while searching for access points that she’d need to protect. There appeared to be only one other door, which probably led to the en-suite. It would seem that access to his inner sanctum was restricted through the music hall’s door. She could work with that.