Vegas, Baby Volume 3 - Fiona Davenport Page 0,3

whitened. “I saw how he looked at you, the way he tried to get close.”

“I...you...I…” I sputtered, trying to wrap my head around the possibility that he’d been jealous enough of a co-worker I barely knew to have me hauled off the stage in a locked box. When it felt as though my brain might actually explode, I demanded, “I’m leaving. You’re not going to follow me. And you’re never ever going to lock me in a box again. Got it?”

“I’ll let you go...for now.” He stalked over to the door and flipped the lock. Before he opened it, he murmured, “In the future, there’s no need for anyone to accompany you to one of my shows. You’ll watch from my private box, sweetheart.”

I didn’t trust myself to speak, so I kept my lips pressed together as I squeezed past him to get through the door. The sound of his masculine laughter rang in my ears as I stormed off. I kept replaying what had just happened in my head and was furious again by the time I reached the security office. I stomped my foot in frustration when Knox Dawson’s secretary informed me that he wasn’t back from his wife’s concert yet.

She kept her eye on me as I paced back and forth while muttering under my breath and gesturing with my hands. A few minutes later, she made a call and told me it would only be another fifteen minutes before Knox returned. I practically wore a hole in the carpet in front of Knox’s desk waiting for him. I was beyond worked up again when Knox finally walked into his office.

Spotting Addilyn, his wife, with him, I realized what had taken him so long. The blues singer was glowing with happiness, and I had a feeling from her puffy lips and mussed hair that it wasn’t just because she was eight months pregnant. I wasn’t surprised since I’d learned early on in the friendship we’d been building since I’d started working at the Lennox that her husband couldn’t keep his hands off her.

Offering her a small smile in greeting, I not-so-patiently waited while Knox got her settled on the couch across from his desk. After sitting down in his chair, he asked, “What’s the problem, Anna?”

“Julian Storm!” I paused in front of his desk and planted my hands against my hips as I glared at Knox. “You need to do something about that, that…jerk face!”

“Calm down, Anna,” Knox said patiently. “What did he do that has you so worked up?”

I started pacing again, the frustration bubbling up again. “I’m not worked up,” I insisted, feeling my cheeks heat as I thought about how I’d reacted to Julian’s kiss. “He doesn’t have any effect on me.”

“Okay,” Knox agreed. “What did he do to upset you?”

The tone he was using irritated me even more. It made me feel as though he was placating me when he should be hunting Julian down after the stunt he pulled. “He kidnapped me! He was supposed to make me disappear for the show, but then the box was moving, and when it opened up, I was locked with him in his dressing room!”

My blush intensified as I thought about how much further Julian could’ve taken our encounter. My cheeks felt as though they were on fire, so I fanned my face with one hand.

“While I can understand why you’re upset, I’m afraid this isn’t a security issue,” he drawled as he leaned back in his chair and tapped the fingers of one hand on his desk. “Therefore, not my problem.”

I couldn’t believe he just said that. Stomping my foot on the ground, I argued, “Of course, it’s a security issue! He can’t just go kidnapping women from the audience. Someone is going to call the police…and…and…” I knew there were a ton of reasons what he’d done was wrong, but I was having a difficult time coming up with them. “It’s a publicity nightmare!”

Addilyn snorted, and I swung my head in her direction. “I disagree,” she chirped happily. “I think it’s marketing gold.”

The pregnancy hormones must’ve gotten to her brain because she wasn’t making any sense. “Pardon?”

She nodded and grinned. “If word got out that the incredibly sexy and talented Julian Storm was kidnapping women and locking them in with himself, the audience would be sold out every freaking night.”

I should’ve been jotting down notes because improving attendance at the Lennox’s shows was my job, but I was too busy being horrified by