Light My Fire (Rock Royalty Book 1) (21 page)

What rock princess could resist trying it on?

On her just-over-average frame, the ruffled hem dragged on the ground like a train but that didn't mar the overall effect. Cilla swished back and forth in front of the mirror, admiring her reflection. It was an awesome dress. Nearly bride-like.

From its place by her mug, her cell phone rang. Cilla started, almost-guilt washing through her.

Guilty about what? she wondered, crossing to her phone.

The screen said it was her brother Brody. "Hey!" she greeted, in pleased surprise.

"Cill," he said. "What's up?"

"You called me," she answered, slightly puzzled. "Is something wrong?"

"Why would you ask that?"

"I just saw you yesterday," she pointed out.

"Yeah." He hesitated. "About that. Uh...Ren?"

In an instant he appeared in her mind's eye, lying naked in the bed. Then another image flashed, this time of Ren at her feet, drawing away her yoga pants and underwear so he could—

"Cilla?"

Blinking away the vision, she brushed her hair away from her hot cheek and avoided her own gaze in the mirror. "What did you say?"

"Bing and I...we're concerned about you getting in over your head with Ren."

Another wash of heat crawled up her neck. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"He seemed a little too interested in you yesterday. That's not good. Because really, let's face it, he's, uh, not your style."

Cilla bristled. "You mean I'm not
his
style, don't you?"

Brody's sigh gusted over the phone. "Look, I'm not an expert on the heart or anything..."

Rolling her eyes, Cilla tightened her fingers on her cell. "Yeah, Brody, you're no expert. How're things between you and your best pal, Alexa Alessio?"

"Lex? Why are you bringing up Lex?"

Because it only took a person with eyes in her head to understand that Alexa, her brother's running partner, next-door-neighbor, and the woman he treated like an asexual chum, was more than a little interested in the man. You could see it on her face when she was anywhere within Brody's vicinity.

You could see it on her face...

Stomach tightening into more origami folds, Cilla slowly slid her gaze back to her reflection, half-afraid to inspect her own features.

A new voice came over the phone, distracting her. "Cilla, it's Bing. First, leave Lex out of this. Second, we're trying to get a bead on this thing between you and Ren. We didn't even know you knew him before yesterday."

"I didn't know him, not really, not until he came back to the compound," she said. But now...now she knew so much. The severed connections in his life—with his siblings, his mother, with Gwen—all weighed so heavily upon him. Cilla thought of him feeding his grandfather bean soup. Of Ren sitting down with Nell and Clark, the children their mother was raising with such care. Of how after they'd departed, the grief and regret and anger had torn through him.

He'd turned to her...

Then turned her on.

Gave her the best night of her life, because...because...

He'd let her into his pain and because he'd given her pleasure and because due to both of those...

She'd tumbled into love with him.

Oh, Lord.

She was in love with Ren
.

No! She thought instantly, rejecting the notion. It couldn't be that. This rock princess wouldn't be that foolish.

"Cilla?" Bing's voice sounded impatient. "Cilla?"

"I'll talk to you later," she said slowly, ignoring his sputters as she pulled the phone from her ear and ended the call.

Her gaze went to her reflection in the mirror and she met her own wide eyes.
Oh, hell. Have you done it?
she asked herself.
Have you gone ahead and fallen in love with Ren Colson?

No, she answered. It couldn't be. Maybe halfway, if anything at all. But never the entire salami, right?

Wrong.

Before, when she was young and he was as remote as a movie star on the big screen, it had been girlish infatuation and teen fantasy. But then she'd woken to find him in her bed and he'd looked at her with those sage-and-silver eyes and, just like that, she'd begun her free-fall.

There'd been other accelerators to her descent: The I-believe-in-fairies episode at the Walk of Fame. The way he'd appeared at her side both times she'd been confronted by Tad at the music clubs. The surprise trip he'd arranged to re-connect her with her brothers (even though she found their meddling, at the moment, more than a bit annoying).

The times she'd made brooding Ren smile and even laugh.

The creak of hinges had her spinning toward the storeroom door. It wasn't latched, she realized. Her hands found each other at her waist, gripping tight.
Ren
.

Would he see it on her face?

For a brief moment she considered hiding in the racks of clothes. If there was a window, she would have dived through it, because she needed time to reverse the course of events and get her back to a solid place, where her two feet were planted firmly on the cliff of Not-Falling-For-Ren. But both were impossible, so she braced, pressing her lips together so as to not inadvertently blurt out the truth. She wouldn't tell him. She could never tell him.

A man stepped into the room.

Cilla jumped, her eyes going wide as she took in the man she'd not expected.

"Good morning, sweetheart," Tad Kersley said, and let the door slam shut behind him.

Though cowardly instinct screamed at her to back away, Cilla didn't retreat and instead gave her ex a cold glance. "What are you doing here? How did you get in?"

His hands slid in his pockets and he sauntered into the room, taking a curious look at the clothes. "You told me about Gwen's collection. The other night when I chatted with Cami Colson at the bar, she happened to mention you were staying here."

"So you climbed the wall?"

He glanced down at his impeccable loafers, slacks, and starched dress shirt. His palm caressed the silk tie he wore, it was his favorite Gucci. "No. I came through the gates behind a truck hauling a wood chipper."

She remembered Ren speaking to the gardeners about some downed eucalyptus limbs he'd noted on the compound property. Lucky her, she thought wryly, they took their responsibilities seriously.

Tad cruised about the racks of costumes, then turned his back to study the shelves of shoes. "This is quite something."

"I don't want you here," Cilla said. "I told you I don't want to see you anymore."

Turning, he let out a sigh. "You're miffed, I get that—"

"I broke up with you months ago," she said from between her teeth. "We're over."

"That's not how I want it to be."

Her fingers curled into fists. "You cut off my hair, Tad."

He waved a hand. "My bad. I apologize for that. But look, you can grow it out again. It's already longer than it was."

Her eyes felt hot as they stared in his direction. She'd tried being calm during their break-up. Reasonable, even when he pushed to get back together. Though a temper tantrum seemed warranted after he cut her hair, she'd elected to hold her outrage in.

All her life she'd been the quiet one tucked away in her tower, so maybe that's why Tad hadn't heard her loud and clear when she'd told him they were through. Perhaps she'd just not been direct enough.

"You came into my house uninvited. In the middle of the night." She advanced on him, and it was gratifying to see him back up, retreating into a corner of the room, almost disappearing between two racks of clothes. Her voice lowered, but it sounded deadly to her. "
And then you cut. Off. My. Hair
."

Cilla was standing five feet from him when she again heard the distinctive creak of the storeroom door's hinges. Her head whipped in its direction as Ren stepped through.

His gaze instantly snapped to her, and she knew he wasn't aware that Tad was in the room. "Hey," he said. "You weren't in bed when I woke up."

An explosion of movement came from Tad's direction. Then he was on Ren, letting fly a sucker punch that plowed into the taller man's ear.

Horrified, Cilla could only stare, frozen, as Ren stepped back, shaking his head. "What the—?" He blinked at Tad who'd retreated a few feet and was bouncing on his toes, his fists hugging his chin, pugilist-style.

Then Ren looked over at her, his expression unreadable, his voice low. "Did you invite him here?"

"No! He—"

"I'm going to take you apart," Tad interrupted, scuttling in Ren's direction. "Are you sleeping with my woman?" He glanced toward Cilla, then looked back at Ren. "You're sleeping with my woman."

"
Your
woman?" Ren said in icy tones.

Without responding, Tad rushed forward. Cilla did too, throwing herself in front of Ren. "Leave him alone," she told Tad, pressing her back to Ren's chest and holding her arms out at her sides like a human shield.

Her ex came to a halt. "Get out of the way, Cilla."

"Baby." Ren's hands clasped her shoulders and it sounded as if he might be smiling. "Stand down."

"He hit you," Cilla said, twisting her neck to look at his face. He
was
smiling! "He shouldn't have hit you."

"And we'll be taking that up," Ren responded, "as soon as we discuss this habit he has of breaking into places where you sleep."

"I followed the gardener through the gates," Tad said. "I didn't
break in
."

"Well." Ren's tone was conversational now. "So you know, I'll break your face if I ever see you around Cilla again."

The threat had Tad bristling and he danced forward again. "Like I said, Cilla, get out of the way."

"Move, baby." Ren's hands tightened on her shoulders, but she dug in her heels.

"Tad, it's time for you to go," she said.

"Not until I teach this guy a lesson."

At her back, she felt Ren's chuckle. "Cilla." His hands moved to her waist to usher her away. "I've got this."

Then it happened. Before Ren had her completely out of range, Tad moved in. She guessed he was trying to facilitate putting distance between her and the impending
mano a mano
exchange by giving her an extra push or something, but the outcome was more of a shove. Her feet tangled in the too-long ruffled hem of the dress.

One minute she was upright and being directed to the side, the next she'd fallen onto her butt. Hard. The jolt reverberated up her spine. The sting of pained tears pricked her eyes.

Silence fell like an anvil in the room. Ren leaped to help her to her feet. "Are you all right?" he asked, his voice tight with new tension.

There was a thick, scary vibe in the room. "I'm fine," she said, and didn't rub her tailbone because he looked mad enough as it was. Over his shoulder, she could see Tad was backing toward the door, his expression reading
oh, shit
.

Ren guided her a few more feet away, then, moving slowly, he rounded on Tad. "You took one shot, now I'll take mine. You can leave after that, or..." And in a lightning move, he was in Tad's space. His fist was in Tad's face.

The sound of the impact was more splat then thud and Cilla saw blood spring from her ex's cut lip. "Now you go," Ren said, "or you take me on."

Tad took him on.

Or tried to anyway.

Cilla backed behind the chair as Ren got in blow after blow. Each time he connected, he'd ask, "You done?" and each time Tad would launch himself back into the fray.

Five times this went on before Tad landed on
his
butt on the hard floor and stayed there, face bloody, eyes dazed.

Ren bent over to lean in close to the other man. "You understand me, yes?"

"I jus' wanted to talk to her," Tad said, sounding sulky through his swelling lip.

"You never get to talk to her again, asswipe. For God's sake,
you cut off her hair
."

"I jus' wanted her to pay attention."

Ren straightened and shot Cilla a hard look. "Baby, it's time to take out the trash." His hand reached for Tad.

"Wait," Cilla said. "I've got to do something first."

He glanced at her again. "Cilla, I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apolo—"

"I'm not sorry I hit him. But I'm sorry that I'm not going to let your soft heart into this equation. You are
not
patching him up. You are
not
offering him a bag of frozen peas or even a paper towel. He gets nothing but the lesson that you are done with him, finally and forever."

"Please, Ren."

He sighed. "Be quick about it."

Realizing his patience was nearly at an end, Cilla dashed from the storeroom and into Gwen's kitchen. After locating the implement she wanted, she dashed back.

Ren eyed the scissors in her hand as he yanked Tad upright. "Uh, baby..."

She ignored the warning note in his voice and marched right up to her ex, who was swaying on his feet. Grasping that favorite tie of his—now askew—she used the kitchen shears to cut it right beneath the loosened knot. A rush of power filled her veins as she dashed the pieces to the floor.

Then looked at Ren. "
Now
you can take out the trash," she said.

Ren was still a moment. A smile broke over his face. "As you command, princess," he said.

And that's when she knew that resistance was futile. Retreat was not longer an option. Time rewinds were never going to work. Cilla Maddox was irrevocably in love.

Chapter 12

In a lighter mood than he'd felt in days—hell, years—Ren returned to the storeroom, his gaze going from the broken skin on his knuckles to Cilla's flushed face. "The bastard's gone..." he started, but then his words faded away as he took his first real look at what she was wearing. The romantic dress revealed the delicate rise of her breasts, then clung to her slender torso until it flared at her hips and fell to the ground. A garment fit for Sleeping Beauty. Cinderella at the ball. Rapunzel.

"Wow," he said, with a sweeping hand indicating the fabric and lace.

"What? This old thing?" she asked with a cheeky grin.

The brilliance of that smile set him back on his heels. Images of the night before flashed in his mind. In the kitchen. In the shower. His mouth on her sex. His hands on her hips, his body bent over hers as he took her without holding anything back.