Killing Me Softly (6 page)

She pulled her hand out of his grip, breaking the moment. Clearing her throat, she gestured, ‘Please come inside. We’re pretty informal here. I thought we’d eat and then get down to business. All going well, I’ll show you around after. Is that all right?’

‘Sounds fine to me,’ Craig beamed.

Alexia looked at Daemon, her brow rising in a lovely arch. He felt himself harden slightly just at that look. ‘Sounds fine to me too,’ he managed to croak from a suddenly dry throat. Scrambling for control – he didn’t like losing control of anything – he met her gaze with an equally piercing one of his own. Two could play at that game.

She kept his gaze for a long silent beat before inviting him inside again.

‘After you,’ Daemon said, a smile flickering on his lips. He loved a challenge and she’d just delivered him one whether she knew it or not. He suddenly felt more alive than he’d felt in a long time. All he needed now was to make certain her past wasn’t going to come back to bite him and he would be a truly happy man.

Lexi resisted the urge to rub her hand. She could still feel the imprint of Daemon’s long fingers on her skin even after they’d sat down to eat lunch. She picked up her glass of water and took a sip, trying to dislodge the lump in her throat. She was just tired.

Yes, that was it.

The last few days with Cat had been harder than she had expected. Cat had responded to Billy a few times, been seen bending to breathe in the roses in her room by Bev and had almost smiled when she’d been shown Kelsey, the horse Lexi had bought for her to ride, but so far, she’d not once ‘seen’ Lexi.

Tiredness was the reason for the strange edginess she felt now. It had to be. And it was just excitement at the thought of working with Daemon that had caused the curling warmth low in her stomach and that strange feeling when they touched: that she already knew him.

It was probably just because she knew his music so well. And also, he’d held her hand captive for longer than was necessary. The familiarity of the gesture unnerved her.

She wondered if he’d done that on purpose. Billy had told her to be careful of his charm. Was this what he meant?

She watched Daemon surreptitiously over the top of her glass as he chatted with Billy and Craig. He was taller than he looked on TV, a good six inches taller than her – and she was no slouch at five foot eight.

Dressed casually in a pair of expensive jeans and a crisp blue shirt, open at the collar and turned up at the cuff, which showed off the lean, long muscles underneath, he seemed relaxed and yet there was an air of something wild about him. It was that indefinable rocker cool. He wasn’t dressed to impress, yet his look would still turn heads.

His dark, shaggy hair had a hint of red in it – natural or dyed? She couldn’t tell – but it was a bit long for her liking, touching his shirt collar and falling over his eyes when he laughed or dipped his head. His lashes were long and so dark it almost looked like he wore eye-liner and mascara, and emphasised the incredible sky-blue of his eyes. Her gaze dropped to the hands he gestured with as he told Billy a funny anecdote about Craig. He had the long, fine fingers of an artist. Yet there was no fragility there. She’d felt the strength of them in his handshake.

There was something incredibly sexy about those hands. She supposed it had something to do with the way they created music.

On the underside of his wrist was a tattoo –  a line of what looked like Gaelic writing. She wondered what it meant. On his other wrist was a line of music she recognised as the opening bars of Mozart’s
Requiem
.

Mozart was her favourite composer and that was the piece that sang most to her soul. Heat washed through her as she wondered why Daemon would have that particular line tattooed on his arm. It was more than sexy, it was . . . 

Lexi tore her gaze away as she realised the direction of her thoughts. She hadn’t thought of a man in sexual terms for years. Her psychologist said she had trust issues. After that brilliant diagnosis, Lexi had left therapy. She knew she had trust issues but wasn’t about to discuss why with a complete stranger!

She heard Daemon laugh and looked up. Her gaze collided with his piercing blue eyes. He was sizing her up just as she had been him. She straightened her back and took another bite of her barely touched sandwich, forcing herself to swallow, wishing she’d worn something different, something more . . . shielding than jeans and a T-shirt. Although a suit of armour would probably seem a bit out of place, she almost felt she needed one. She couldn’t help but feel he saw too much. But still, she forced herself to meet his gaze.

He stared back. She didn’t flinch. A lazy smile touched his lips.

Her hand clenched around the glass. Arrogant sod! Who did he think he was, trying out his charm on her? She supposed many women fell for that sincere blue-eyed gaze, the lilting Irish accent and the slightly off-kilter features. But not her. She’d been around too many rocker types trying out their egos to be impressed. He probably didn’t even know what that piece of music on his wrist was. Pretentious git.

She couldn’t help but glance back at him though, as his voice wove around her, warm and enticing with a music of its own. She tried to shake off the sensation. She had no intention of getting distracted by a deep, accented voice, sexy hands and some well-placed tatts.

Speaking of accents, his had to be affected. He’d been living in America for years, and had only recently moved back to England.

Also, his nose was crooked.

And he had an air of arrogance she didn’t like.

All in all she wasn’t too impressed with the ‘great’ Daemon Flagherty. What had
Rolling Stone
magazine called him? ‘Magnetic. One of the greatest artists of our times.’ Well, that might be true, but they’d also called him ‘The second coming’. The second coming of what? Pfft!

‘What did you say?’

Startled, Lexi looked up. ‘Nothing.’

‘I thought you said something.’

She felt pulled into his intense gaze. Blushing, she stood up. ‘So, are you guys finished? We should get down to business. I want to spend some time with Cat later.’

‘I’d like to see her,’ Craig said.

‘Why don’t you come with me now?’ Billy suggested. Lexi shook her head, frowning, but he ignored her. ‘Bev should have brought her back; it’s time for her afternoon exercises. You can walk with us down to the pool and then catch up with Lexi and Dae later.’

‘Sounds good to me. If you’re okay with that, Lexi?’

She looked from one brother to the other, then towards Daemon who looked at her expectantly. She had to say yes. After all, she’d invited him here. She put on a false smile. ‘I’m sure Cat will love to see you. We’ll be in the study when you’re done.’

She stood, walked to the door then turned. ‘Are you coming?’ She didn’t wait for his response, but marched off down the hallway.

Daemon looked quizzically at Craig and Billy. ‘I guess I’m supposed to follow. I’ll see you guys later.’

‘Good luck.’

He huffed out a laugh. ‘Yeah, I think I might need it!’

Daemon quickened his pace, following her down a long hallway, not noticing his surroundings, attention centred entirely on Alexia. She really wasn’t like anything he’d expected.

She stopped at the end of the hall in front of a door, her figure silhouetted by the sunlight filtering through the window behind her. Tall and willowy, she had the long fluid curves of an elf queen. Her dark auburn hair, curling around her face in little waves, glowed golden in the sun. He didn’t normally like short hair on women but on her the look appealed. Confident and self-assured, there was something there at the edges, a look she got in those jewel-green eyes that made her seem like she didn’t belong in this world. His da would call it a touch of the
fae
. Whatever it was, it made him suddenly edgy, as if he wanted to hold onto her, keeping her in this world, safe.

Ridiculous thought! Why on earth would she need protection? Besides, he was the last man on earth who could protect anyone. He couldn’t even protect himself from the things that hurt.

He felt his smile slip a little as she shifted away to allow him to walk past her and through the door.

She gestured for him to take a seat but an older woman, perhaps in her early fifties, appeared in the doorway and he remained standing.

‘There you are, Alexia. I just wanted to let you know I’m back and to see if you need anything.’

Streaks of grey ran through the woman’s dark, bobbed hair. The thick tartan jacket, corduroy pants and plain black shoes encased her comfortable form. She reminded Daemon of the farmers’ wives who lived near his da’s pub.

Alexia’s eyes lit up as she looked at the woman and exclaimed, ‘Bev, I love your hair.’

The woman’s eyes crinkled as she patted her ‘do’. ‘I haven’t had my hair set in an age. I thought it was about time. Can’t let Karl think he’s married to an old hag.’

Alexia laughed and patted her arm. ‘He’d never think that. Karl worships the ground you walk on.’

Bev breathed in a long, satisfied breath. ‘He does at that.’ Her gaze flicked into the room, meeting Daemon’s with the steely regard he knew country folk reserved for strangers. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t realise you were in a meeting.’

Alexia blushed. ‘I’m sorry, how rude of me. Bev, this is Daemon Flagherty. Daemon, this is Beverley Smart. She looks after the house as well as being an angel and food whiz.’

‘Oh, go away with you,’ Bev said, stepping forward to shake hands with Daemon. ‘I’ve heard your music. I’m not a big fan myself but the young people seem to like it. I will say your songs are better than a lot of the trash around nowadays. I’m sure Alexia will do all she can to help you.’

Daemon tried not to laugh. Most people sucked up to him because of his fame whether they liked his music or not. ‘I’m sure she will. If she agrees to work with me.’

‘Oh, I know she will. Our Alexia likes a challenge.’

Daemon’s lips twitched. She had just insulted him twice in less than a minute. Instead of getting pissed off, it delighted him. ‘So do I, Mrs Smart. So do I.’

‘You’ll be perfectly suited, then.’ She turned to Alexia who was trying to smother a grin. ‘Shall I bring you coffee or tea? I’ve made that fruit mince slice you like. I could cut some up for you both.’ She glanced back at him.

‘Are you responsible for that delicious lunch we just had?’

Bev’s eyes warmed at the compliment. ‘I am at that.’

‘If the slice is even half as good, I’d love some.’ Daemon flashed the older woman his most charming grin. Her remaining coolness melted as she returned his smile.

‘I’ll go fetch some for you then. Coffee or tea?’

‘Coffee would be perfect.’

She hurried out of the room and Daemon turned to see Alexia frowning. She quickly wiped the frown from her face, as she walked around the desk.

‘You certainly won her over. Does that charm work on most women?’

‘It doesn’t seem to work on you.’

She looked him right in the eye. ‘I’m not here to be charmed. I’m here to find out if we can work together.’

Daemon sat down in the chair opposite hers, his smile fading. ‘Same goes for me. My music is all I’m interested in.’ And it really was. Why had he been trying to charm her? Maybe because he needed to gain the upper hand? The disconcerting thing was, by now, most women would be lapping out of said hand.

But she wasn’t most women. Time to take a different tack.

He took a breath, settling back in the chair. ‘So, let’s get down to business then, shall we?’ She nodded. ‘I’m looking for a different sound. The stuff I’ve been writing lately is darker and more complex than what was on our last two albums. I think the sound needs to be more primal and less polished.’

She nodded, ‘Go on.’

He continued to talk about his music and as he spoke, she sat back in her chair, index fingers pressed together against her mouth, her attention solely on him. He saw her nod a few times but he couldn’t read what she was thinking. He’d been speaking for about ten minutes when Bev walked back in. She placed a tray on the desk between them. The aroma of coffee mixed with the delicious scent of freshly baked fruit mince slice made his mouth water even though they’d only just finished lunch.

‘I’ll leave you to serve yourself. I’ve got a few things to do in the cottage, so tell William to buzz me there when he needs help with Catriona.’

Alexia nodded and smiled. ‘Thanks, Bev.’

She bustled out of the room and Alexia poured coffee for Daemon and tea for herself. ‘Milk? Sugar?’

‘None for me.’ He helped himself to a piece of slice. ‘Mm. This is delicious.’

She nodded. ‘I keep telling Bev she should have been a chef.’ She took a sip of her tea, sat forward, hands on either side of the blotter, index fingers tapping the desk lightly. ‘So . . . about your work. I agree with what you’ve said so far.’

He sipped his coffee and sat back, listening.

‘The material in your last few albums was good, but the production was wrong and it left me cold. It was like you were trying to take Cole Porter and turn him into Gaga.’

Daemon laughed.

‘Sorry to be so abrupt —’

‘No, go ahead. This is good.’

‘The whole pop thing . . . it’s not The Sidhe. What were you thinking?’

He sat forward, excitement thrumming through him. ‘That’s exactly what I said to Dudley, but he was being pressured by the powers that be to create a certain sound and we were tied in by a contract I should never have signed. Hindsight is a wonderful thing.’

She cocked her brow. ‘Dudley Gratton is a great producer but he was off the mark. He should have known better. It’s not play by numbers. That’s why I don’t work for record companies anymore. They only care about the bottom line.’

Daemon blew out a breath. ‘This is precisely why I want you.’

She stiffened at those words and edged back in her chair. That strange look, almost like fear, flashed in her eyes and he had the strangest urge to comfort her.

Stifling it, he sat back. The last time he’d had that urge it had blown up in his face.

She relaxed. ‘There are other producers out there who could do what I do.’