It Must Be Your Love (The Sullivans #11)(5)

The sounds of a seagull squawking just a few yards outside the window yanked her from her musings. Her anonymous buyer would be arriving in fifteen minutes, and she wanted to be completely ready for him. Taking the final stairs two at a time, she reached the thick wooden door to the tower room thirty seconds later.

She was slightly surprised to find the door open. But when she stepped inside she was far more surprised to realize that the room wasn’t empty...and that the anonymous buyer was the very last man on earth she ever wanted to see again.

Just that quickly, five years fell away, and she was reliving the moment when she’d seen him for the very first time.

* * *

Five years ago, in a downtown Seattle venue...

Mia Sullivan was having the best day of her life. She’d sold her first seven-figure property, and had a great Friday night dinner with her family at her parents’ house, where her mother, father, and four brothers had surprised her with a huge arrangement of flowers and champagne to toast her achievement. After heading home to change into something less professional and more slinky, she was out continuing the celebration at a well-known Seattle club with some of her colleagues who had also closed good deals that week.

She’d been too amped up at dinner with her family to take more than a few sips of the champagne they’d popped on her behalf and now her mojito had never tasted better. Bursting with energy, Mia was ready and raring for the band to start playing so that she could hit the dance floor. She felt especially sexy tonight in her shimmering silver dress with thin spaghetti straps and a deep plunge in the back. Mia wasn’t particularly tall, but with the hem of her dress barely skimming her thighs and her five-inch silver heels, she felt like she could go toe to toe with any of the supermodels-in-training in the audience.

The cute guy she was flirting with had just gone to get her another drink when the house music and the lights went down, and dozens of girls in the crowd started squealing. Mia didn’t follow the music scene very closely, but evidently, this show tonight was the hottest ticket in town. Mia was more into Navy SEAL types with their muscles and strength, rather than rockers with their tattoos and leather. Still, the way the other women in the room were acting had her more than a little curious about the singer.

How great could Ford Vincent possibly be?

Just then, a deep male voice cut through the noise of the crowd and the squeals grew louder—then, miraculously, fell away entirely as his voice resonated down into all of their souls.

Mia forgot all about the guy she’d been flirting with as she moved through the crowd to get closer to the stage. She had made it nearly to the front when the spotlight lit.

Oh my God, the singer was gorgeous. But not in a typically rock star way. Yes, he had on leather pants and his dark hair was long enough to brush the tops of his shoulders, but he was beautifully built, with a broad chest, muscular arms and thighs, and a surprising ruggedness, as if he regularly spent time lifting something heavier than an electric guitar.

But a few seconds later, Mia realized it didn’t matter what he looked like...because she was utterly lost in the music, her eyes closing as she let it move her body.

When an elbow poked her in the side, Mia opened her eyes to see who was knocking into her. The girl next to her said, “He’s singing straight to you!”

A moment later, Mia turned toward the stage and found herself looking right into the singer’s heated gaze. She’d never been afraid of her own innate sensuality, but...oh...the way just one look from this man instantly melted her insides sent a rare, and very surprising, red flag of caution up inside her chest.

She’d always been the one in control of her relationships, was used to being the one who was wanted and needed more than she’d ever wanted or needed anyone. Relationships, and sex, had all been just for fun. In twenty-three years, her heart had never, ever been at risk—and she’d been okay with that. She figured she had plenty of time to find the one.

Snared in the heat and intensity of Ford’s gaze, Mia couldn’t do anything but stand in the audience of crazed fans and stare back at him. It wasn’t until the crowd lost its mind at the end of the song and the bassist said something to Ford that pulled his attention away, that she was dragged out of what had been as close to a hypnotic state as she’d ever been in.

Her body felt strange, her mouth dry, her hands and feet tingling...and her heart was pounding way too hard. Trying to regain her bearings, she turned away from the stage and scanned the crowd for her friends. She needed another drink to wet her throat and then, even though it wasn’t all that late, maybe she’d head back home.

But instead of finding any of her colleagues in the crowd that seemed to have quadrupled during the amazing first song, all she could see were dozens gorgeous girls who would clearly do anything to score a night in the singer’s bed.

“You’re one hell of an audience, aren’t you?”

Ford’s question, spoken in that low voice that ran shivers of need through Mia’s entire body, had the crowd shouting and screaming back that they loved him, that he was their hero, that he could have them any way he wanted them.

“I was already going to make it good for you,” he said in a voice laced with sexual undertones, “but now you’ve got me wanting to make it really good.”

She swore she could feel his gaze burning a hole through her as he spoke, and something told her his words weren’t just meant for the audience...but as a challenge for her because he’d seen that she was about to leave.