What could I tell them?
Oh, I have self-esteem issues and North Hunter agreed to fuck them out of me, so I’m going to go let him do that.
Yeah, that would sound great coming from the boss.
Some members were drinking in one of the public rooms, but I skirted the edges, sticking to the shadows until I reached the staff elevator. I practically collapsed into it once the doors closed and it carried me upward. Sweat gathered under my arms, which was not a good look for seducing someone. I was already terrified about getting naked in front of North.
Oh my God, this is such a bad idea.
I froze with sudden indecision as the elevator doors opened, revealing a thankfully empty hallway.
Maybe North had been kidding about a one-night stand. Maybe he’d say yes out of pity.
Goddamn it. I hated that voice in my head. My intention was to make my way to North’s room. However, when I stepped out of the elevator, the faint stir of music caught my ear. I halted and tilted my head to listen.
Wakefield had mentioned that North was using the castle turret to play his guitar. Heart racing even harder, I followed the strain of guitar music to the turret. Trying to be as quiet as possible, I opened the door, and North’s deep, smooth voice reached me.
My breath caught.
The man could sing.
Of course he could.
Entering, I gently closed the door behind me. It was a tight squeeze at the bottom of the turret. Narrow, carpeted stairs spiraled to the circular room above, where North played a song I didn’t recognize.
Did he write it?
It had a slight folksy, country sound to it as North sang about being obsessed with a melody he couldn’t get out of his head. As my body responded to the timbre of his singing voice, tingles awakening between my thighs, I leaned a palm against the cold brick and took a deep breath. Why wasn’t he doing this for a living? The man’s talents were apparently boundless.
I had to hope they were because I was somewhere between fleeing the castle, and perhaps Scotland altogether, and running upstairs to throw myself at him.
He’s not Lucas, I reminded myself.
To my shock, my legs trembled as I forced them to climb the stairs. I wanted to shake the nerves out of them, but I couldn’t force myself not to be anxious as hell. My heels didn’t sound on the carpet as I climbed, so when I appeared at the top of the stairs, North didn’t notice me at first. He sat on the edge of the armchair, guitar braced on his knee, his head down as he sang. There was a notebook on the floor in front of him with words scrawled in messy handwriting.
He had written this song.
My cheeks heated at lyrics that masked just how sexual they were. There was a playfulness to them that didn’t surprise me as he talked about a woman who he wanted to lick like his favorite ice cream.
Jealousy scored through me as I wondered who the song was about. Did he write it for Cara Rochdale? His fascination with the pop star made sense. They had music in common. The thought depressed me.
Suddenly, he looked up and startled so badly, the guitar fell out of his hands. “Fuck!” he yelled, as the guitar hit the carpeted floor. “Fuck, fuck.” North half glowered, half grinned. “You scared the shit out of me.”
My lips twitched with humor. If only the fans of King’s Valley in which he played a charismatic sociopath that terrified people could see him now. “Sorry about that.”
North shook his head, as if a little dazed, and grabbed his guitar off the floor to check it over. “How long have you been there?”
Just as abruptly as I’d been laughing at him, my nerves returned. Did I really want to initiate sex with a guy singing about another woman? I didn’t think that would help my self-esteem much. “Uh … not long. Long enough to hear your song. You have a great voice.”
He scrubbed a hand over his head and gave me a rueful smirk. “Did you like the song?”
I stiffened. Why would he ask me that? “Yeah, sure.”
His expression flattened at my less than enthused response, and I felt like the world’s biggest asshole.
“It’s a great song,” I hurried to say. “Catchy. Playful. Is it about your ex-girlfriend?”
North looked horrified. “Why would I write a song about a woman who pretended to love me for two years and then dumped me when I needed her? Though, to be fair, if I’d loved her back, it would probably sting a bit more and I wouldn’t be writing songs about another woman.”
I knew it.
He was writing songs about another woman.
I was such an idiot to believe his interest would last more than that night in the library. Feeling my chest ache with rejection, I gave him another tight smile and nodded. “Well, good night, then.”
“Hey, hey, hey.” North stood to his feet, his frantic tone stopping me midturn. He searched my face as if looking for some kind of answer. Then he let out a little huff as he rubbed the back of his neck. “The song is about you.”
Stunned, I gaped at him.
His lips turned up at the corner. “You didn’t know?”
“H-how could I k-know?” I stuttered in shock.
North’s smile stretched into a sexy, wicked grin. “It’s about a melody I can’t get out of my head.”
I frowned, not understanding at all.
He chuckled. “Aria … your name is Aria.”
And an aria was a song. A melody. Oh my god. I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment and annoyingly, I was flattered. “Oh.”
“Right. Oh.” He smoldered at me and my heart rate picked up. “So, why did you really come here?”
It took me a minute to answer because I was running the lyrics through my head, and they were definitely about sex with me. Specifically, going down on me.
Arousal flushed through my body like liquid lightning, and when North’s expression turned fierce and alert, I knew he could see my chest heaving with shallow breaths.
He looked at me like he wanted to eat me alive.
That, along with the song, bolstered my confidence. “Let’s do it. Let’s have one night together.”
North’s eyes flared and the muscle in his jaw flexed as he stared at me until I wanted to melt into a puddle of embarrassment.
“Or not.” I shrugged like I didn’t care.
Holding my stare, North bridged the distance between us, and my entire being seemed to hum toward him. My legs trembled so badly I wanted to rest my hands on his shoulders for support. Instead, I tried to stay as composed as possible.
“You sure it’s what you want?”
Insecurity pricked at me. “If you want. I mean, if you don’t, we’re cool.”
“Oh, I want,” he growled, and I felt a rush of tingles between my legs in response. “But I want to know exactly what you’re asking of me.”
The thought of laying myself bare to any man would usually have me running in the opposite direction, but North already knew about the insecurities planted by my exes. “I … I want one night. To … to see … I mean … I just … I want to prove to myself that I’m not a terrible lover. That I can feel attractive and s-sexual again.” My cheeks were on fire.
North’s pupils dilated as he leaned into me, his cologne tickling my senses. “We’re going to prove that to you many, many times tonight.”