Page 11 of Blind Attraction

He came to a stop, held her tighter in his arms, and kicked out his leg. His shoe thudded against what she assumed was the suite door.

“Mitchell!” she wriggled, trying to get him to put her down even though she didn’t want to be out of his arms. “Let me go so you can knock on the door.”

“I’m fine. Blake will answer the door in a sec...as long as he isn’t in the middle of increasing the band’s popularity with your friend.”

“What do you... Oh.” Her cheeks heated. “Sorry. I’m a bit slow.” She was an idiot. It wasn’t as if she expected Kate to be in there playing Solitaire. Alana had been savoring the joys of living vicariously through her friend for years.

He booted the door again.

“Oh, for Christ sake. Put me—”

She heard the door handle turn and the sound of the door scraping over the carpet.

“Al.” Kate’s voice held a note of panic.

Alana tried to open her eyes, only to close them seconds later when the scratching and blurred vision became too much. “I’m fine.”

Mitchell strode forward, and the light behind her lids darkened. “She’s not fine,” he growled, suddenly sounding more protective and territorial. “Where’s Blake?”

“He’s on the hotel phone. It started to ring a few seconds before you knocked on the door.”

Alana pivoted and turned through the darkness until Mitchell lowered her. The back of her legs hit something firm but soft and she settled down into the sofa. Large hands squeezed her knees and she pressed her lips together, holding back a sigh. They were Mitchell’s hands. His warm, strong, talented hands.

“Will you be all right for a minute? Can I get you a drink or something?”

She shook her head and hoped her voice wouldn’t come out raspy. “I’m fine.”

“I’m going to see what’s happening with the phone call. I’ll be straight back.”

She nodded and let out a deep breath when his presence slipped away. It was stupid and crazy and foolish, and yet she already missed his nearness.

“What the hell happened?” Kate’s voice came from beside her as the sofa dipped.

Clenching her lids tighter with the abrupt slip into vertigo, Alana leaned back in the seat. “Slight altercation downstairs.”

“Slight altercation?”

She sensed Kate hovering close to her face, peering down at her. Blake’s voice came soft from the other side of the room, along with Mitchell’s frantic whispers. Their conversation was too quiet for her to make out, so she passed the lonely minutes reciting what happened to her friend.

“Can I have a look?” Kate’s breath brushed along her cheek.

Taking a deep breath, Alana tried to open her eyes again. When she lifted her lids the scratching sensation caused her to blink rapidly, which only made the discomfort worse. All she could see were different shades of shadow lingering close to her face.

“Sorry,” Kate whispered. “I thought I might be able to see something.”

A cupboard squeaked from the other side of the room, and moments later a familiar hand cupped hers. “Here’s a drink of water. Can you grab it for me?”

Their fingers brushed when she grasped the glass and a buzz of hyper awareness rushed through her veins.

“The optometrist will be ready to see us in around twenty minutes.”

Fate was cruel. Earlier, she’d been reluctant to meet him, now she didn’t want to leave. Alana ran a finger up and down the glass, procrastinating, buying a few more moments in his presence. She had to say goodbye. A famous musician had better things to do with his time.

“Kate can take me.” The words sounded reluctant even to her ears.

“Yea—” Kate stopped mid word.

Alana turned her head toward Kate, then to Mitchell, and back again. They were silently communicating, and Alana didn’t like it.

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