She’d sat beside Zachary on the plane too, a private jet which she learned was being used to fly only the band members and their significant others from city to city while in Australia. Zachary introduced her to Seth and Nathan, to Sophie as well, and to the other three other band members—Bill, who played the synthesizer, Arnie on saxophone and Tim, Speed’s bass guitarist.

Yep, Luke had given them all a cursory introduction back in Sydney, but it hadn’t been personal, like today.

During the flight, Delilah and Devine chatted with her at length, insisting Sophie and Eve come up to Devine’s room later so they could introduce Sophie to the delights of Eve’s makeup case and skills. They’d agreed to meet at six thirty, before dinner, which had been scheduled in the hotel’s private dining room.

What amazed Eve was how normal all these people were. Apart from Sophie, who’d told her she’d just quit her job as a cleaner to join Nathan on tour, none of them lived a life at all similar to Eve’s. They lived in the world of superstardom. Yet they were all so nice.

Seth sat beside Luke, a faraway look in his blue eyes, as if he were lost to a wonderful dream. Luke, his hands now bandaged, worked on some papers, every now and again pausing to glance at Seth.

Nathan did not take his gaze off Sophie the entire time.

Eve watched him for a while. He was ridiculously good-looking, with flawless, model-like features. Perfectly beautiful, his eyes were similar to Zachary’s. Brown, with hints of green and black woven through them. Interesting eyes. Stunning eyes.

The Paces had a similar look about them. One glance would tell a stranger they were brothers. They were all gorgeous, no two ways about it. However, Seth, with his blue eyes, was smaller than the older two. A little more feminine even, although his lean strength and unshaven cheeks made him all man. And while Nathan had that picture-perfect look going for him, Zachary was broader and damn, he smoldered sexuality. It radiated off him in waves.

She’d noticed hotel and airport staff alike had similar reactions to the three brothers. They smiled at Seth, instantly beguiled by his dreaminess. They stared, entranced, at Nathan, and became flustered around Zachary. More than one person had tugged at the collar of their shirts around him, as if they wanted nothing more than to strip those shirts off.

Oh, yeah, Eve understood. She’d experienced just that. And then had stripped off her shirt, exposing her scars and her heart.

She turned to look at him now, leaning over the set of drums that stood in the foyer of the suite, adjusting something.

How easy it would be to fall in love with him. To just hand him her heart, knowing she’d never be able to take it back. How careful would she have to be to ensure she didn’t?

She already suspected it was too late to take those precautions. Which made her dumb as shit, because she could never have him in the long term. While it was fine to live in the here and now, to enjoy the time they had together, Zachary’s future belonged to another. And even if it didn’t, there was no way he would ever give his heart to a woman whose face had been permanently scarred by an exploding window while she was on holiday.

Zachary sat on his throne, sticks in hand, and tapped out a tune on his drums.

Eve froze.

He drummed a little more energetically.

Her heart began to pound.

Zachary closed his eyes and seemed to merge with his drums. He rapped with fluid movements, his muscles flexing in time with his beat, his actions so sure, so sexy it was like he’d been born playing drums. As if the instruments were a natural extension of the man.

The beat became a song, one she recognized. He played the underlying cadence of “Thunder ’n Rain”.

He was brilliant. Enthralling. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. She was trapped in the rhythm of his drums, trapped in the incredible music he made.

The tempo vibrated through the rooms, echoed across the floors and reverberated up her legs, down her spine.

This wasn’t Zachary. This was Jonah, master musician and professional percussionist. And she had the pleasure of watching him play in a private performance.

Weak-kneed, Eve pressed herself against the archway to the foyer, listening to him, watching him and throbbing inside. His music was sheer magic, his appearance breathtaking. She ached inside, touched by something unfathomable as he performed. He was masterful, brilliant, and she was overwhelmed by her conflicting emotions.

She could spend the rest of her life standing here, content to watch him perform. At the same time she knew this would never be enough for her. Because now that she’d experienced his music in person, she wanted more from Zachary.

She wanted everything. His music, his tempo, his dedication… His heart. She wanted him with a compulsion that shook her to the core.

Her heart pounded so hard it took a few seconds to realize it was the only beat she now heard. Zachary sat on his throne, drumsticks in hand, staring at her.

“Th-that was stunning.” Words could never adequately describe how his playing affected her.

He shrugged. “Just messing around.” His words were light, his eyes were not. They were heavy-lidded and dark, and his gaze was hungry.

“Feel free to continue messing around. Don’t stop for me.”

He turned his attention back to playing and rapped on a drum again, just once. “Can’t do it, Tiny.”

“Can’t do what?”

“Play when you’re looking at me like that.”

She couldn’t help it, couldn’t not look at him like she was. She closed her eyes. “That better?”

“No. I have a massive erection, and playing my drums is not going to help me lose it.”

“Your playing is incredibly arousing.”

“It’s not the drums that have me aroused. Not the music either.”

Her breasts swelled, her nipples tightening. She opened her eyes again, found his gaze centered on her, hungrier than before. “Pacey?”

“Yeah?”

She recalled what he’d said last night about his other talent with his sticks, and her belly seemed to flip upside down. “You don’t really do that with your drumsticks, do you?”

“Oh yeah, beautiful. I really do.”

He held her gaze for just a second too long, and the air between them filled with a deafening silence. So silent, Eve feared Zachary would hear her heart pounding.

She crossed one leg over the other, squeezing her thighs together, but that only increased the ache and the throbbing. “Ouch.”

The drummer blinked. “Ouch?”

“Ouch,” she concurred, then explained in detail, “Splinters.” Yeah, actually, no. Splinters were the furthest thing from her mind.

Zachary chuckled hoarsely. “Splinters?”

“Believe me, no one wants to get splinters down there.” Her throat felt like sandpaper.

“The sticks are varnished. No fear of splinters there.”

“And your unvarnished ones?”

“I choose my tools carefully, oh, cautious one.” The air snapped and shimmered. “You know, I could make you come without laying anything more than my varnished tools on you.”

Eve blinked. “Prove it.” Her belly tumbled once more, this time in anticipation.

His voice had dropped, the deep baritone coming out soft and low, like a rumbled caress. “It’ll be my pleasure. And yours. Step closer.”

She did. Walked over until all that separated them were his drums and cymbals. She placed her hands on one of the drums and leaned forward. “Can’t get closer than this.”

“Close enough. For now.”

Jonah tapped his foot once, the rise and drop of his knee the only clue that he’d moved. That, and the reverberation through the drums as a low, soft boom echoed through the foyer.

The sound vibrated through her arms and down her body. She jerked in surprise. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Proving a point.” And his drum boomed again, a little harder.

This time the vibrations hit not only her arms, but her lower body as well, where it was pressed against the drum. The sound and feel echoed through her hips and groin.

She blinked.

Zachary smiled a knowing smile.

“Zach—”

“Shh. Just feel the beat.”

He began to play then, continually, a soft, sexy beat. Slow and seductive.

She tried to concentrate. Tried to identify the song but in the end gave up. The vibrations shivering through her made thinking too difficult.

The tempo was hypnotic, and Eve closed her eyes, letting it draw her in, letting her heart pick up the rhythm of the sound and pulse in time with it. But it wasn’t just the music that caught her. It was the movement of the drum. The gentle, ongoing throb. It wasn’t just her heart pulsing. Her groin pulsed too. Each beat shuddered through her pussy, a gentle tap against her clit. Or maybe it was around her clit, or under. No, the tap seemed to surround it, surround her whole groin.

The slow, steady vibration that had begun as a pleasant beat soon changed, increasing in tempo. Her pussy pulsated harder, and she clenched, realizing, almost belatedly, how arousing the rhythm had become.

A heartbeat in her pussy, stimulating, teasing.

She opened one eye and looked at him, stunned. “Za—”

“Uh-uh, Eve. Not one word. Close your eyes.”

She obeyed, speechless as moisture pooled between her legs. On some level she tried not to let go, not give herself over to the sweet harmony of Zachary’s drums, but on another level, a deeper one, she knew she didn’t stand a chance. She shifted closer, pushing herself harder against the drum.