Fitzwilliam Darcy, Rock Star (14 page)

Elizabeth shook her head. “They haven’t looked at the CT scan yet. It’s gonna be awhile, so you might as well just rest.”

Charles pulled up a chair and, without releasing Jane’s hand, sat down beside her. His eyes were filled with sadness as he touched the hair around her bandage.

“How was the show?” Jane asked him softly.

Charles kissed her hand repeatedly. “Horrible. I hated it. I was so worried about you.”

Jane’s face softened with concern. “Oh Charles, I’m so sorry.”

“No,” he whispered. “No, sweetheart, shhhh. It’s okay now.” He smiled at her warmly and touched her cheek. “You’re going to be all right, and that’s all that matters.”

Elizabeth watched their interaction with increasing discomfort. She looked away and caught Darcy’s eye. He motioned with his head toward the waiting room, and Elizabeth followed him out.

She looked at him with an embarrassed grin and moved to sit on the couch. This time Darcy joined her.

“Have you called your parents?” he asked softly as they settled down.

Elizabeth shook her head. “I didn’t want to worry them. I figured it’s not worth calling until we have the test results, and by then they’ll be asleep.” She sighed resignedly. “I’ll call them in the morning.”

“You sound like you’re not looking forward to it.”

Elizabeth looked at him, annoyed. “Of course I’m not. It’s going to be horrible.” She shook her head, and her eyes flashed as she wondered at the stupid things he said.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I was just going to offer to call for you.” He paused. “I thought it might be easier to have it come from me.”

Elizabeth looked at him, her forehead crinkled in amazement. “Oh yeah, because it’s so much easier to hear that your child has been injured from a total stranger.”

“I am not a stranger!” he argued. “I’m her employer and she was injured on
my tour
!”

Elizabeth closed her eyes.
I forgot we were on the Control Freak Tour!
She fought to keep her emotions in, but it was too late. The dam had been broken, and tears began to leak out. She put her head in her hands. “I’m sorry,” she said painfully. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, no,” Darcy disagreed, horrified, as he watched her collapsing in on herself.

“It’s the stress,” she explained, her voice muffled.

Darcy put his hand on her shoulder. “Lizzy?” he said softly. When he touched her, he felt it again; the spark of desire that tore through his body was like the crack of a whip. It disturbed him, the way he wanted her. In a split second he recognized this yearning as it ripped through him, and he was ashamed. He knew it was wrong in the way it overwhelmed his worry for her and for Jane. The guilt he felt for the attack, and even his long-held revulsion of hospitals, was submerged beneath the desire he felt for her at that moment. She looked up at him, tears running down her cheeks, and he was lost.

Elizabeth found herself in his arms, being held closely. She clung to him just as tightly as he apologized. His body and voice were tight with emotion. “It’s my fault too, Elizabeth. I don’t deal well with hospitals. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“I just wish this had never happened. I wish—” she broke off raggedly.

“I’m sorry, Elizabeth.” Darcy rested his cheek gently on the top of her head. He rocked her in his arms, calming her like a child, until she quieted. “It wasn’t your fault, you know that, don’t you?” he told her softly.

“Of course I do,” Elizabeth snapped, and then she teared up again. “But I just keep asking myself, ‘Why Jane?’” Her voice broke. “I mean, if you are going to hurt someone, why not hurt me, or Charlotte? Why Jane?”

Without thought, Darcy pulled her closer. He ignored the blood on her clothes and the scent of fear on her skin as he tried to comfort her sobs. “I’m sorry, Lizzy, I’m very sorry. It shouldn’t have happened.”

***

When they reached the hotel, Caroline was waiting in the lobby. Charlotte and Alex gave her a full report, the news being mostly good, but Caroline realized right away that this would have a major effect on the tour. She handed the room keys to Richard and Charlotte and then took Alex to her room for a planning session.

Charlotte looked at Richard, shrugged, and moved toward the elevator bays. Once they were inside, he asked her softly, “Are you okay?”

Charlotte stared straight ahead and quietly answered, “Nope.”

Richard took a deep breath. “Would you like some company?”

Slowly Charlotte turned to him, her eyes full of questions and disbelief. “Are you… hitting on me?”

“If you want me to, yes, otherwise I’m just offering a friendly ear,” he said with easy frankness.

Charlotte looked away, considering the offer. When the elevator stopped and the doors opened, she said calmly, “Let’s go to your room.”

***

“Do you remember anything?” Charles asked softly, his hands gently caressing her hair.

Jane shook her head sadly. “I don’t even remember going out onstage. They told me that short-term memory loss is normal.” She looked at him. “Tell me what happened.”

Charles spoke slowly. “You started like you always do.” He smiled briefly. “You were halfway through the set when someone threw a big Jack Daniel’s bottle and caught you in the head. I saw it on the monitor and ran out to you.”

“Charles!” Jane was dismayed.

“Oh, Rebecca was pissed,” he flashed a grin. “But I didn’t care. I picked you up and carried you back.” He looked intently into her eyes. “There was so much blood, Jane, I was terrified.”

Jane squeezed his hand tightly.

“Alex and Lizzy took you to the hospital, and Will made us perform.” He frowned guiltily. “I was horrible onstage, I was so worried about you, but Will was concerned that if we didn’t go on there might be a riot.”

“He was right,” she said, her voice clear. “Don’t feel bad; you did the right thing.”

Charles looked up and saw the absolution in her eyes. He closed his eyes tightly and drew her hand up to his lips again. Whispering against the back of it, he confessed, “I hated being away from you, Jane, I hated it!”

“I know,” she whispered back reassuringly, “I know.”

***

Elizabeth pulled back from his embrace and shook her head, “Oh no, Fitzwilliam Darcy. If I can’t take the blame for this, you don’t get to either. It’s no more your fault than it is mine.”

“It’s my tour,” Darcy objected softly.

“So what?” Elizabeth shrugged. “We wanted to be there. You didn’t hold a gun to our heads and make us go on the stage. We knew the risks,” her voice slipped on the last word.

Darcy regarded her skeptically. “You’ve never had anything thrown at you, Elizabeth, have you?”

Elizabeth shook her head, aware that she had been caught. Then she shrugged once. “Flowers.”

Darcy lifted up one side of his mouth. “This is a little different than flowers.”

Elizabeth had to agree with him. “You’re used to this?”

Darcy did fully smile this time. Elizabeth was distracted by the way it changed his face. “We started out playing clubs in New York that had fencing between the audience and the stage.” He laughed once at the memories. “We became accustomed to all sorts of things being thrown at us. Bottles just meant the crowd was enjoying the show.”

Elizabeth smiled for the first time all night. “Wow, we’ve never played any place like that.”

“Until tonight,” he challenged.

“Until tonight,” she agreed, nodding to herself. “My guitars!” she exclaimed, suddenly recalling them.

“I had Ronnie take care of them. They were cleaned and should be in your hotel room by now.”

Elizabeth looked at him gratefully, realizing he understood how important they were to her. “Thanks,” she said softly before slipping into silence.

“Are you regretting being here, Lizzy? On tour?”

“No,” she whispered. “I’m sorry that Jane got hurt, but this is what I always wanted. I wouldn’t give it up for anything.”

Darcy pulled her close to him, and she rested her head on his shoulder. “What about you?” she asked softly, her voice disconnected and distant. “Is this what you wanted?”

Darcy shook his head thoughtfully. “No, I wanted to be a musician. I love my music. But I never wanted this—the fans, the photo sessions, the interviews.” He sounded weary. “If I could, I would walk away from it all.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Because at some point it became more than just me. It became this huge juggernaut, with a hundred people being my responsibility. I can’t just walk away from it. I wish I could.”

Elizabeth wondered silently at his words. She couldn’t imagine the man she had known as Fitzwilliam Darcy trapped in a role he didn’t want, but on the other hand, it certainly appeared to her that he was unhappy. She wondered how this had happened to him. When had he lost control of his life? Was this why he seemed to struggle so hard to regain it?

***

Charlotte took four steps into the room and stopped. She listened as Richard closed the door and moved quietly behind her. She felt his hands come to rest lightly on her shoulders. “Char?” he asked.

She turned around and slid her arms around his waist. She pressed herself against his warmth and felt his arms enclose her tightly to him. “Char,” he began again. “I just want you to be clear. You set the rules here. Anything you want, and nothing you don’t, ’kay?”

She slowly raised her head and looked pleadingly into his eyes. “I want to forget about this night. Make me forget, please.”

Richard nodded once as his mouth closed on hers. He kissed her firmly, forcing her lips to part against his and teasing her with his tongue. When at last he pulled back, he whispered, “Like that?”

“Yes,” she sighed. He kissed her again as he propelled her farther into the room. A quick search found what he was looking for. He brought her into the bathroom, turned the shower on, and began stripping off her clothes in between kisses.

Moaning softly, she asked, “Won’t I just get dirty again?”

Richard grinned wickedly. “Oh yes, you are going to be very dirty and sweaty. But first you need to get the smell of blood and hospital off of you.” He kissed her fiercely, pulling in her bottom lip and grazing it with his teeth as he released it. “I promise you will enjoy it.”

He led her into the luxurious shower stall and positioned her under the stream. Charlotte was never this docile with a man before in her life, but it was clear that Richard was an expert, and she had a unique trust in him.

She leaned back into the hot stream and realized he had been correct. She did need a shower, and a lazy smile came to her face. She opened her eyes to see Richard staring at her, his eyes dark and his appreciation obvious.

“Turn around,” he growled.

Charlotte grinned cheekily and couldn’t help the tiniest of wiggles. A light slap on her ass made it clear he had noticed and approved. Charlotte wondered what was next when she felt his hands massage her shoulders. “Christ, Char! You’re tight,” he said as he worked her muscles.

She put her hands up to brace herself against the wall. At that moment she didn’t care if she got laid or not. What he did to her body felt so good she worried she couldn’t remain standing. He massaged her shoulders under the hot water until they started to loosen, then he moved down her back, finding knots of tension and working them out. Charlotte was moaning softly before he was done. “See,” he breathed into her ear, “I told you that you would like it.”

Charlotte grinned and nodded as he quickly soaped her body. She shampooed her hair, suddenly eager to be out of there and on to the next step. Richard was very businesslike and in a few short minutes, they were wrapped in large bath sheets and moving to the bedroom.

“Are you hungry?” he asked her politely.

Charlotte shook her head and licked her lips. “Not for food,” she replied naughtily.

Richard led her to the bedroom without another word. There he turned on a low light beside the bed and kissed her again, gently removing the towel. Charlotte blushed slightly, but the way Richard’s eyes appreciably examined her body removed any feelings of embarrassment she might have. His eyes darkened with desire and she felt aroused just by his presence. He moved close to her again and touched her face, tracing her cheek and jaw, tilting her lips up to his. “Charlotte,” he whispered before he kissed her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, her senses saturated by the feeling of his lips on hers, his chest again hers, his erection pinned against her stomach, his hands cupping her ass. He broke away from her mouth to kiss the side of her neck as he lightly picked her up. “Bedtime, Charlotte,” he murmured as he placed her on the king-size bed and lay down beside her.

As soon as his hands were free of the burden of carrying her, they began exploring. Caressing her smooth skin, from her face to the tops of her shoulders to her soft breasts to her stomach and legs. His mouth was kissing her in ways she had never imagined possible. With his kiss, he told her she was beautiful and sexy and that he wanted her very, very much. Charlotte could not find it in herself to disagree with such a persuasive argument.