Fitzwilliam Darcy, Rock Star (30 page)

Darcy shook his head no, his mouth curled into a grin.

“All right!” Elizabeth said with mock surrender. “Okay, I take it back. I’m the only one living a monk life. Everyone else is getting plenty of action. Happy?”

Darcy’s forehead crinkled. “You think so?”

“Well, Richard and Charlotte have been busy, we both know that.” Darcy nodded. “And I suspect Jane and Charles are doing something more than just writing songs. And you have that Amy woman,” she tried to say lightly, but failed utterly.

Darcy smiled to himself. “Amy is my head attorney with Darcy Technologies. Our relationship is strictly professional.”

Elizabeth looked at him with frank disbelief.

“All right,” Darcy sighed. “Years ago, Amy and I had a relationship.”

“What happened?”

He lifted an indifferent shoulder. “She graduated from law school and got a position with a firm, and Slurry got big and started touring constantly. We soon figured out that we wanted different things.”

Elizabeth nodded understandingly. “I know that story.”

Darcy looked at her curiously and then continued. “She got married two years ago. We’re still good friends, but that’s all.”

Elizabeth felt stupid for making him explain this to her. Then it dawned on her that he had been just as celibate as her.

“So, what is your story?” he asked. Despite the lightness of his tone, Elizabeth knew he wasn’t asking just to be polite.

“Not much story to tell. Currently, my only emotional relationship is with my guitars.”

He grinned and waited.

She grinned back, seeing she was not getting out of answering the question. “I suspect you know this one already. I haven’t been able to find a man with whom I could make a long-term relationship work, and the one-night stand thing just isn’t my style.”

He sipped his tea thoughtfully. “But you’ve tried.”

“Oh, I’ve tried. Don’t get me wrong. It’s just, well, you know, you’re a musician. Most people don’t understand that you have to work every Friday and Saturday night.”

“And that you are going to be on the road as much as possible,” Darcy added.

“Exactly,” she replied, her words gaining speed, “and that you don’t just have time to lie around all day playing house with them. That you actually do have to spend your time composing and rehearsing.” She stopped short and blushed. “I’m sorry; I don’t mean to rant.”

He shook his head. “No, I understand completely.” He took another sip of tea and continued. “Have you tried dating other musicians?” he asked with an upturned eyebrow.

“No, I, ah, dated someone once in the business, but it didn’t work out. And besides, I’m so busy with my career I really don’t have the time. I’m just putting romance on the back burner. You know?”

He nodded.

“So, this bad-boy thing that you do, it’s all just an act?” she said, trying to bring the conversation back to him.

“Not all of it,” Darcy replied. “Have you ever seen a stage magician?” Elizabeth nodded. “Diversion is the name of the game.” He held up his left hand and fanned his fingers. “Keep looking at this hand, so you don’t see the other palming the quarter.”

“Okay, I get that, but why? What are you hiding?”

Darcy pointed over at the other table, where the rest of the party was eating. “If you were a journalist, with no moral fiber, what would you see there?”

“Jane and Charles holding hands,” she answered softly.

“And what would happen if the tabloids got hold of Jane and Charles?”

“They would be all over it, putting it on the covers of all the magazines.” Elizabeth frowned. “They would portray it in the worst possible light. Make Jane out to be a gold digger or something.”

“Exactly.”

“And that would really hurt Charles and Jane; they both want people to think the best of them.” She turned her eyes to Darcy. “Whereas you couldn’t really care less if they post outrageous lies about you. You are protecting your friends by using yourself as a shield.”

Darcy lifted his cup in admiration. “Perfect.”

“Don’t you have secrets you want to keep out of the news?” she asked.

Darcy grinned mirthlessly. “Everyone has secrets, Elizabeth, but the image protects me as much as anyone else. They are so busy looking for the outrageous stuff that they miss the things that really matter.”

She looked at him in a new light. She realized he was willing to sacrifice his own comfort for his friends, but she couldn’t help but note that this was another way for him to control what was going on around him.

***

Caroline Bingley sat alone in the dim light as she sipped her drink. From her table at the hotel bar, she could see the main entrance. There was no concert tonight, the bands were all safely in the hotel, and she had made sure that Collins was off the premises. Now her face reflected the exhaustion she felt as she took another sip of her drink, the whisky biting her throat as she swallowed.

She tried to erase the images that she kept seeing again and again in her mind, those of Elizabeth and Darcy: sitting together, sharing an intimate conversation, him holding her hand, and then later, the shy way he had put his arm around her as he led her to the hotel elevators. That was when Caroline decided she needed a drink.

She slumped back in her chair. She knew it had only been a matter of time. If she had been in Elizabeth’s shoes, she would have been all over Darcy right away, like white on rice. That they finally managed to hook up was no surprise to her. She took another sip and closed her eyes to hide the stinging.

When she opened them again, she saw a pair of blue eyes sitting across from her, watching her patiently. “Do you mind?” a voice with a soft London twang asked.

Caroline shook her head. “Make yourself comfortable.”

“Thanks,” he said slowly. “You look pretty beat.”

Caroline rolled her eyes and sighed tiredly. “You heard what happened?”

He nodded. Caroline had long ago learned that Faust had a remarkable information network. She was impressed by his ability to always know what was going on while remaining unseen. Except when she needed him, then he would be right where she wanted him. He had also shown a discretion that had bordered on saintly, which had earned her trust.

Caroline sighed. “Collins is gone, I have no idea what is going on with Richard, and Darcy…” she trailed off.

“I know,” he said softly, his voice carrying a note of sympathy.

Caroline rubbed her forehead. “I keep asking myself why? Why her? Why not—” She broke off with a bitter grimace. “Sorry.”

Faust shook his head. “Go on,” he commanded in a gentle voice.

“What more is there to say? I love him. He doesn’t love me. And now he loves her. Old story really.” She took a sip of her drink and sighed. “I’m tired. I’m tired of killing myself for this job, and I’m tired of hurting.”

“Caro, you need to understand something.” He spoke in a way that demanded her attention, his voice vital and earnest. “You are an intelligent, competent, beautiful woman. Darcy may not see that, but that doesn’t mean that others don’t.”

Caroline’s blue eyes searched his. Her blond hair was still in the tight knot she usually wore it in, but at this point, a few tendrils had escaped and were framing the sides of her slender face. “Thank you, Faust,” she whispered.

He reached across the table and lightly brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. Caroline closed her eyes, her breath slowing as she felt the effect of the simple human contact that she denied herself so long.

“Come on,” he said softly. Together they rose and left the bar.

***

Elizabeth smiled to herself when Darcy slipped his arm discreetly around her waist. It was flattering. She now had undeniable proof that he found her attractive.

Together they waited for a private elevator, both craving some time apart from the others. The door closed on them and he kissed her once again, but this time it was different; this time they both knew what they were doing; both were fully aware of their actions.

“Lizzy,” he whispered between kisses, as he wrapped his arms around her. “I’m afraid I have to disagree with your ideas about romance and career not mixing. I think we could mix
very
well, Lizzy,” he said as he kissed her again.

His lips were so soft on hers and he drew out of her an intense longing, even as her mind was warning her to slow down. She wanted to believe him. She wanted just to be with him. She wanted to give herself to him and damn the consequences.

The shrill ringing of his cell phone broke into their awareness. He kissed her again, and she sighed softly as he moved back and answered the phone.

“Hello?” he said somewhat distractedly. In a heartbeat his face changed. She watched as confusion, then worry, raced across it, then it shut down entirely, something Elizabeth found inexplicably disturbing. “Are you certain?” he asked. “I’m on my way,” he replied, ending the conversation and giving Elizabeth a quick apologetic glance as he hit another button on the phone.

“Tommy, I need Rebecca now,” he barked. A moment later he continued. “Georgie is missing,” he told the woman on the other end of the phone, and suddenly Elizabeth understood. She knew that Georgie was Darcy’s much younger sister. “I have to go to Choate. You’re coming along.”

Darcy hung up the phone and turned to her, his eyes filled with a distant regret. “I’m sorry. I have to go away.”

Elizabeth nodded, understanding that whatever moment they shared was suddenly gone.

When the elevator doors opened, Rebecca was there waiting, an unhappy expression on her face. “Did you call Rachel?” she asked Darcy, who was speeding down the hall.

“Not yet,” she heard Darcy answer as they disappeared into his room. Elizabeth sighed to herself and went to her room, feeling confused, lost, and empty. She attempted to tell herself again that romance and career didn’t mix and that this was just further proof, but she didn’t have the energy to believe that lie anymore. Exhausted, she went to bed, her sleep disturbed by uneasy dreams of Darcy both kissing and leaving her.

***

Caroline lifted her face, letting Faust cover her mouth with his. She sighed as she let herself relax for the first time in longer than she could remember. His hands were gently running up and down her sides, touching her softly, as he pleasured her mouth.

Caroline felt years of frustration falling away from her. She would have felt awkward with another man. She had actually been with far fewer men than her jaded exterior suggested, but she trusted Faust completely.

The ringing of her phone broke the mood. “Don’t,” he breathed in her ear.

With an apologetic frown she answered it. “Yes?” Faust moved behind her and began lightly running his fingers along her spine and placing featherlight kisses on the base of her neck. “What’s wrong?” Caroline said into the phone. They both knew who it was. “Oh, Darcy, it’s only ten thirty there. Is it possible she’s just out with her girlfriends?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he snapped. “Either she is just out, as you say, and she’s breaking the rules, and I have to be there, or it’s something worse, and I have to be there.”

Caroline sighed. She felt bad for Darcy, but she really felt he was overreacting. At least she was not expected to go with him; they both knew her place was with the tour. “Well, call me when you know anything.” She hung up and put the phone on her night table.

Faust looked at her, expectantly. “Georgiana Darcy has gone missing,” Caroline explained. “Poor girl is all of a half hour late and she has Darcy tearing up to Connecticut to check on her.”

“He seems very protective of her.”

She nodded. “He is. She’s the only family he has left, and he’s crazy about protecting her. I think maybe something bad happened to her before I joined the tour.” She frowned. “Has to be something that would make him race out there in the middle of the night.”

Faust stared at her for a moment. If he knew anything, he wasn’t sharing it. Instead he walked back to Caroline and kissed her firmly. “That is all I want to hear of
him
tonight.” He kissed her again with an intensity that left her trembling. “You are mine for the evening, not his, and I intend to make sure you know it.”

In a darkened hotel room, two lovers slept. Completely relaxed, their bodies intertwined with each other as if, even in sleep, their skin sought contact with the other.

The phone rang, jarring the silence and forcing them to wake. A long arm reached out blindly and answered it. “Um?”

“Mr. Bingley, this is your wake-up call. It’s six o’clock.”

“Thanks,” he groaned, and then hung up the phone. Turning to the woman lying with him, he said, “Jane, come on, baby, time to wake up.”

Jane’s face wrinkled like a kitten as she shook her head and moved closer to Charles, snuggling up against his shoulder.

Charles smiled. Even like this, her hair messed and her face puffy from sleep, she was precious to him. “Come on, you have to catch your flight.” A low moan and frown was his only response.