Sweet Possession (Sweet #5)(6)

Barry, who didn’t do confrontation very well, looked as though he wanted to be anywhere but here. Which was fine because she wasn’t too crazy about here either.

“You need Connor Malone—”

“I don’t need anybody,” she said icily.

“You need him,” Phillip said firmly. “I’ve let things go on as long as I’m going to. You’re in breach of contract and I’ve let it go. Until now. Connor Malone basically told me to f**k off and headed back to Houston. You’re going to go there and do whatever it takes to make him reconsider.”

Her mouth fell open. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he said grimly. “I’m not giving you a choice, Lyric. You’ll do this or you’ll be out on your ass, and trust me, even as big as you are, I don’t see another record label lining up to pick you up with all the shit you’ve pulled.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t threaten me, Phillip.”

His expression softened just a bit, but determination still glinted in his eyes. “Things can’t go on as they are, Lyric. You’ve been lucky, but sooner or later, your luck is going to run out. We need Connor Malone to buy us some time to hire more security whether you like it or not. He’s not any happier over the arrangement than you are. I’ve put in a call to his boss, who’s going to lean on him. I want your ass in Houston to reinforce the issue. You’ll be nice. You’ll be accommodating. You’ll do what it takes to make him agree to the job. And then,” he said, putting up a finger, “you’re going to behave yourself.”

She set her jaw until her teeth ached. She opened her mouth to argue but he shut her down with one swift shake of his head.

“Don’t speak. You’ll fly out after the show this weekend. That’ll give him and you a few days to cool off.”

He snapped his fingers at Barry and the two of them walked out of her room, closing the door with a sharp bang. She sank onto the couch like a deflated balloon.

She ran agitated fingers through her hair, pulling on the ends in repetition. Connor Malone was an arrogant ass. But more than that, he frightened her. And that pissed her off.

He was smug and too damn good-looking. Her brow wrinkled in irritation. Good-looking? Yeah, he was. It might get her goat to admit it, but he was exactly the sort of man she was attracted to. Tall. Strong and silent. And blond. Muddy blond with different tones and shades, like he spent a lot of time out in the sun. He wasn’t pretty blond, but rugged, yummy blond. She had a weakness for blonds. She didn’t normally go for the good guy, military-type cut, but on him it looked good. It looked damn good. Just added to his badass appearance.

He had those piercing green eyes that saw way too much. He cut through the layers at supersonic speed. Maybe he was some goddamn superhero. She laughed. Maybe he was supposed to be her goddamn superhero.

Yeah, she could have taken him back to her room if not for the fact they loathed each other on sight. She couldn’t even say she’d had an instant reaction to him. Her dislike had been in self-defense. More of an “I hate him because he hates me” response.

And now Phillip wanted her to fly to Houston and grovel? Jesus. She didn’t grovel. Ever. The mere thought nearly choked her.

Why did she need Connor f**king Malone? She didn’t need goddamn anyone, and that was the way she liked it. Connor could take his self-righteous prig self and take a long walk off a short pier.

She leaned farther back on the couch and propped her feet on the coffee table. She shouldn’t have sent Trent and R.J. away. They could be having hot, sweaty sex right now and she could slip into oblivion. Instead she was mad as hell because if she wanted to stay employed, she was going to have to go play nice with some good old boy without a sense of humor.

For a moment she was tempted to call Trent and R.J. back. They’d be more than happy to climb into bed with her, and then she wouldn’t feel so terribly alone. But try as she might, she couldn’t make the disapproving look on Connor Malone’s face dissolve from her memory. And it pissed her off even more that it had mattered.

CHAPTER 3

Connor stalked into Malone’s with the beginnings of a headache already wracking his brain. His flight from L.A. had been delayed. He’d spent six hours in Dallas, and just when he was ready to say f**k it and hire a damn car and drive the five hours to Houston, his flight had boarded.

Then, when he’d landed, he had six voice mails, three of them from Pop and another three from Micah, who’d delighted in giving him hell about his meeting with the pop diva. Asshole.

“Hey, you’re back,” Faith called from her office as he passed.

His frown eased into a smile, and he backed up to Faith’s doorway. “Yeah, I’m back. Finally. You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

“Heard it didn’t go too well,” she said, her green eyes bright with sympathy.

He gave up the idea of sneaking to his office to blow off some steam and sauntered into Faith’s office, where he slouched in a seat in front of her desk.

“Let me guess. Micah has been regaling you with tales of my torture.”

Mirth glistened in her eyes as she tried to stifle her laughter. “Well, uhm, yes. I’m afraid he has.”

“Jackass,” Connor muttered.

“Was it that bad?”

Connor sighed. He loved his sister dearly, and he had no intention of bitching at her for the better part of an hour. So he ignored the question. “Where’s Gray and Nathan?”