Sweet Possession (Sweet #5)(32)

She wouldn’t stop traffic but she didn’t look all bad. And there was a lightness to her eyes she hadn’t noticed in a long time. She smiled back at her reflection, decided she’d survive being seen without makeup again and then left the bathroom.

Connor was on the phone. He turned and held a finger up to Lyric and then said, “I’ll have her right down.”

She raised an eyebrow as he shoved his cell phone back into his pocket. “I thought they were coming up?”

“Sam is parked at the side employee entrance. We’re going to go out that way. You won’t even be outside a second.”

“And you?”

“I’m going to my office to meet with the security team your label hired. I want to make damn sure they’re competent enough to do the job. I’ll come get you when I’m done. In the meantime, I’m having a few guys come in and clear out your hotel room, so if there’s anything you need, get it now.”

She scooped up her purse, looked to make sure her wallet, sunglasses and phone were still in it and then slung it over her shoulder.

“I’m ready.”

Five minutes later, Connor rushed her into the back of a Bentley and she blinked at the sumptuous leather and the obvious expense of the luxury car. She was a freaking rock star and she didn’t get to ride around in vehicles like these. Any wannabe could hitch a ride in a limo, but these wheels cost some serious cash.

The driver was a broad-shouldered boulder of a man who filled the driver’s seat. The steering wheel looked small in his hands, like it would break off if he turned it too hard. He flicked a glance at her in the rearview mirror but his eyes were covered with dark shades, and his bald head gleamed like he’d just shaved it that morning.

Micah Hudson slid into the backseat next to her and Connor slammed her door. The driver roared off down the side street and pulled into traffic.

“Everything all right?” Micah asked conversationally.

She eyed him warily, not comfortable with the fact that it was he and not Connor who was riding with her.

“Where is Angelina?”

Micah’s eyes narrowed. “No way I’d let her come along. I don’t want her anywhere near potential trouble.”

Lyric shrugged. Like she wanted to be near “potential trouble” either?

A half hour later they drove through the entrance of a sprawling estate. She glanced back to see the heavy security gate swing closed behind them. To her further surprise she caught a glimpse of a big dude who looked suspiciously like he was carrying an automatic rifle. Holy hell, was she at some compound for a crazy cult?

They pulled around the circle drive and parked directly in front of the palatial house. Micah got out and the driver opened her door and hovered protectively over her as he escorted her the few steps to the entrance.

Okay, she liked safety as much as the next person, but this seemed a little . . . overdone. It wasn’t as if she was rolling up to a concert and had thousands of fans all pushing to get a glimpse or a piece of her. There was . . . no one. The grounds were so quiet that she could hear birds chirping.

She was ushered inside the McMansion and the driver took her into the living room where she saw women sprawled all over the furniture.

Lyric relaxed and smiled. She recognized Faith, Julie and, of course, Angelina right away, but there was another woman, long and sleek and so freaking beautiful that she made Lyric take a step back and curse the fact she hadn’t worn makeup. She was tempted to pull the shades over her eyes, not that it would hide the fact she wasn’t even wearing concealer.

To cover up her nervousness, she spread her hands out, palms up, and announced, “I’m here!”

The women turned and Faith shot up from the couch and hurried over to give Lyric a hug. Which was kind of weird but at the same time gave her an honest-to-God warm fuzzy. Lyric was a little shell-shocked as Faith dragged her over to the others.

“You’ve met Julie and Angelina, of course, but you haven’t met Serena Roche yet.”

Tall and elegant, Serena rose from the couch, her long black hair swinging like silk down her back. Lyric couldn’t help but stare. The woman had such an exotic beauty and startling blue eyes to contrast the midnight hair.

She extended her hand and for a moment Lyric just stared at it—and the glittering, huge-ass diamond ring that adorned her third finger.

“I’m so glad to meet you, Lyric.”

“Likewise.”

A tall, extremely handsome man walked into the living room, and when his gaze rested on Serena, he lit up. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out this was her husband, Damon Roche.

He had that rich GQ look. Polished, arrogant and extremely confident. He came up to stand beside Serena, his hand sliding up her back to tangle in her hair.

“Ms. Jones,” he said smoothly. “Welcome to our home. Serena and I are happy to have you.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry to be a bother.”

“You’re no bother. Micah tells me you’ve had some trouble. I can assure you that while you are here, nothing will bother you.”

Strangely enough, she absolutely believed him. He didn’t strike her as a man who made empty boasts. He was too damn self-assured.

“Can I offer you refreshment, Ms. Jones?” Damon asked.

Remembering just how much she’d eaten at breakfast, she shook her head.