Page 69 of Protect Your Queen

“Our personas?” I lifted a brow, feeling incredibly comfortable with him. “You have no interest in me, do you?”

I tried to suppress a smile because that fact made him special to me. The fact that he was here, without any of the typical masculine desires.

“I wish I could, but…”

“You’re in love with someone already.”

“Very astute.” He gave a slow, somber nod. Then he chuckled, “I think that made you like me more, yeah?”

I laughed, “It did. It makes you safe.”

He bit his lower lip for a second, and I thought I could hear the cameras flashing again. Or maybe it was my imagination, and I was just seeing a flare from the lenses pointed up at us.

“You’ll find that being under Stasia’s wing will put you in the way of people who care about the craft.” He leaned back in, and took a drink of his wine. “But we’ve learned to manipulate our image to support what we really want to do, which in your case is to sing, and in my case, to make movies.”

He moved his hand off the table and placed it on my bare forearm. His hand felt cold. He made idle chit-chat, as our movements mimicked a happy couple on a wildly successful first date.

His conversation was quite innocuous. He’d ask things like: “Stasia says she’s taking over your second album… have you thought about getting into the movies?” and things like that.

I asked him about his latest movie and wondered if he wanted to try his hand in music. Idle chat that didn’t match the closeness of our movements.

We shared an appetizer and made it last a while.

“Stasia might have us do a music video or something.” He put his index finger to his chin, like he was the Thinker. “Something that makes us look like lovers, to fuel the rumors.”

“Does that really work? What about your person? Do they mind?”

He looked wistfully to the side then shrugged. “She’s not ready to be with me, and I’m… not in a position to push.”

“I find that hard to believe. You’re Phoenix Fucking Asher. What woman wouldn’t want to be with you?”

He chuckled. “You don’t.”

“Well, that’s different…”

My eyes drifted to where our guards were seated. Chris tapped his finger on the table, his lips in a deep frown. He looked at me, and far from the scowl he had before, what I saw there broke my heart. He looked like I had betrayed him.

His expression filled me with shame.

I looked away and touched the stem of my wine glass, never taking a single sip. I never did… not after how easily I knew a drink could be contaminated. If I was going to drink, I did it at home, from a bottle I had uncorked myself. But my throat felt so dry, and I knew water wouldn’t lessen the sting of it.

I took a small sip. Just one.

“What about you?” Phoenix broke through my thoughts as one sip turned into a gulp. “Are you boning the bodyguard? Pulling a Whitney Houston?”

Phoenix looked over at the table too. Chris noticed and glared at him. A murderous glare. The same look Jareth gave Mario Pesci each time he popped up.

“It’s not like that.” I took another sip of my wine.

I wasn’t afraid that it was contaminated. No matter how mad he was, I knew Chris wouldn’t let anything happen to me.

“Isn’t it?” Phoenix chuckled.

He got up from his seat, extending a hand to me.

“You’re going to get up, and we’re going to hug, and have a near kiss, okay?” I took his hand and let him pull me to my feet.

True to his word, he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me in, his eyes smoldering. But I knew he was acting. I put my hands on his shoulders, and it was almost like we were doing an awkward slow dance.

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