Page 5 of True Stars Collide

CHAPTER 3

Zoe stared out the sumptuous private jet’s window, her mind spinning the same three thoughts on replay.

One: Why had she chosen a profession where she had to conceal her true self in order to succeed?

Two: Would the current lie work and make her dreams come true?

Three: How was she going to pretend to be madly in love with Liam Jones when the guy barely acknowledged her presence?

He sat on the furthest side of the plane, headphones on, eyes closed. Like he was shutting out the whole world, especially her. Not that she was looking forward to the upcoming charade, but she was committed to it.

Shouldn’t they be trying to get to know each other before the plane landed in Vegas? Ensure they appeared authentic from the start?

She indulged herself by studying him, and warmth bloomed low in her belly. Objectively, the man was one of the most handsome she’d ever seen. Spun gold curls worthy of an archangel framed a broad forehead, strong straight nose, wide high cheekbones, and a square hard jaw. His lips were chiseled and finely drawn, the only softness relieving the hard planes of his face. When he wasn’t snarling or sneering, he looked almost sweet.

And the body. Ripped jeans and a faded Soundgarden t-shirt gave a deceptive image of casualness, but Liam Jones was anything but casual. She’d read somewhere that he practiced karate and yoga and his lean, finely sculpted six foot something physique looked ready to pounce, even in repose.

Yeah, she’d googled her fake husband-to-be after the fateful meeting. He’d studied law in his native England before dropping out to pursue music. He’d played with a punk band before forming Black Velvet Machine with Austin, Ben, and their legendary drummer Tommy. The band had burst onto the scene with a vengeance, racking up platinum albums, Grammys, Billboard music awards and more. They’d been hailed as the second coming of Pearl Jam, Soundgarden, and Nirvana––the renaissance of 90s alt-rock.

Now she’d not just be working with him but living with him and pretending to be his wild, infatuated wife. She sipped her vodka cranberry to soothe the sand dunes clogging her throat. Liquid courage to play this part was a necessity.

It was one thing to allow stylists to make her look like a Barbie doll in public. To perform the pop music the record company dictated they play. But she had never pretended to be in love. With her past band, the minute she’d closed her front door, the image was retired. At home, she’d never had to pretend to be someone else.

“Like what you see, darling?” Liam’s emerald eyes opened. “You’ve been staring at me the whole flight.”

Heat rose in her cheeks. “Just trying to wrap my head around what happens when we land.” She smoothed out her expression––he’d never see her distress.

He plucked his earbuds out, straightened in his seat, and dropped his elbows to his knees. “Yeah, me too.”

She cleared her throat. “I mean, should we set down some ground rules or are we diving straight into PDA in the airport?”

He smirked and patted his lap. “You wanna get started on that now? Come on over.”

She shook her head. “No, I’d like my last few minutes of freedom right here in my own seat, thank you very much. I meant ensure we’re on the same page.”

“So prim and proper. Once we step off this plane, you need to be all over me, and I plan on being all over you. Shouldn’t be too much of a hardship.” His eyes raked her from the top of her head, down the extremely low-cut black lace halter top she wore to her low-slung black jeans.

She had no problem showing skin––shyness wasn’t in her DNA. Awareness danced along her skin––soon they would be making out all over Sin City and those huge hands of his wouldn’t just be something she admired from afar.

Through sheer self-control, she managed not to shiver but her traitorous nipples betrayed her by springing to attention. His gaze dropped to her breasts, and he ran his tongue along his upper lip. “Right, love?”

Two could play at that game. “You’re easy on the eyes but chemistry isn’t always about looks. It’s more intangible.”

He shrugged a shoulder. “When we played at your audition, there was chemistry on stage. I’m sure it will translate. And rules––like a safe word?”

She choked on her drink. “Are you kidding with this? We’ll be the infatuated couple in public. I hardly think a safe word is necessary.” Was he the type of man who required one in the bedroom? Her pulse kicked in her veins.

“Look Zoe––” And once again he’d pronounced her name incorrectly, with a long “e.”

She pointed at him. “This is exactly what I meant. You don’t even know my name is pronounced “Zoe” not “Zoey.”

He rubbed the scruff on his jaw. “Is that supposed to sound tougher or something?”

“No, it’s what my mom named me. Probably something my lover would know.”

He grunted. “Fair point, Zoe.”

And somehow his deep raspy voice transformed the syllable into a rough caress. Oh, she was in trouble.

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