Lovescenes

Shannon lifted her head. People were on their feet throughout the auditorium, applauding and chanting Cade’s name. She glanced up at the stage and then quickly turned towards Claire.

‘Is it over?’

Her agent pursed her lips. ‘Is it over? What kind of question is that? Yes, it’s over. Where have you been for the past hour?’

‘Then let’s go,’ Shannon said, disregarding the question. ‘Come on, okay?’ she said, rising from her seat, 'I've had it.’

The agent stumbled to her feet and tugged at Shan­non’s sleeve. ‘We can’t leave yet. We have to go backstage, remember?’

‘I don’t have to. I’ll wait outside.’

‘You said you’d go with me.’ Shannon shook her head and the other woman smiled. ‘He knows you’re here. I saw him watching you.’

‘He can’t see anything with those lights in his eyes,’ Shannon said quickly. ‘It’s just a performer’s trick, looking out at the audience that way.’

‘There were no lights in his eyes. The man was looking straight at you.’ She smiled and one eyebrow arched delicately. ‘What’s the matter? Are you afraid of being in the same room with him? I saw the way he looked at you.’

‘Of course not,’ Shannon said crisply. ‘I just don’t see any purpose to this. I already told you I don’t want to work with him.’

‘Then let me tell Jerry Crawford he’s got the whole thing wrong. Come on, Shannon. Remember the old saying, “There’s nothing to fear but fear itself”?’

I don’t need this, Shannon thought as she followed Claire through the crush to the backstage entrance. Cade Morgan, the entire situation—she definitely don’t need it.

She wanted to tell Claire she’d changed her mind, but the noise of the crowd drowned everything out and then it was too late. They were backstage.

Uniformed security guards stopped them every few yards and then wide-shouldered men in turtleneck shirts and tweed jackets replaced the guards, but, in spite of Shannon’s hopes, Claire talked her way past each questioner until finally they were standing in front of Cade Morgan’s dressing-room door.

Shannon fought back a mounting desire to turn and run. Instead, with a mindlessness that embarrassed her when she thought about it later, she ran her fingers through her hair and wondered if she still had any lipstick on.

Her pulse drummed in her ears as the door swung open at Claire’s knock.

At first, she thought the room was empty. It was half in shadow, and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the lack of light.

But, of course, it wasn’t.

He was there, standing before a dressing-table, drying his dark hair with a white towel. He was bare-chested: water droplets gleamed in the dark hair curling on his muscular chest and in the shadowy strip that tapered to invisibility beneath his jeans.

Shannon flushed and raised her eyes to his face. Yes, it was just as she remembered it, the cheekbones high and angular, the chin square and strong, and the eyes...those eyes...

‘I’m Claire Holden. I hope we aren’t disturbing you, Mr. Morgan.’

‘Miss Holden.’ Cade’s voice was soft and flat. He smiled politely, but his eyes never left Shannon’s face. ‘Thank you for coming tonight.’

‘Thank you for the tickets.’ Claire made a face as Shannon shot her a steely glance. ‘Look, if this is a bad time... ’

Cade shook his head. ‘No, this is fine. Just as long as I had the chance to take a quick shower...’

‘Well, I just wanted you to know I enjoyed your per­formance,’ Claire said. ‘Miss Padgett and I...’ Her voice faded into the silence of the little room and she looked from Cade to her client. A smile started on her lips and she stepped back into the corner.

‘If s nice to see you again, Shannon,’ Cade said softly, tossing the towel aside. ‘Did you enjoy the concert?’

Shannon nodded. Be polite, she thought. You can manage that, can’t you? ‘I...yes, thank you, it was...it wasn’t quite what I’d expected.’

Cade smiled. ‘Really? Is that good or bad?’

‘It’s... it’s neither. I just meant it wasn’t the way I’d thought it would be.’ He was still smiling, waiting for her to say something more, and finally she shrugged her shoulders. ‘It was a very polished performance,’ she said carefully.

Cade laughed and tossed the towel aside. ‘Somehow, you make that sound like a put-down.’