Rock Addiction (Rock Kiss #1)(77)

That battle began with a vengeance the next afternoon, when they returned home. A phalanx of photographers had camped at the gate to the house, flashes going off in a blinding staccato as they attempted to capture Molly’s image through the closed windows of the SUV. A grim-faced Fox ignored them to nudge the car forward, and when one of the photographers stepped brazenly in front of the car, blasted the horn and kept going.

The man stumbled out of bumper range barely in time, falling backward onto his colleagues, his gestures turning rude as the gates closed behind the vehicle. The police arrived less than ten minutes later.

“One of them”—the senior cop jerked his thumb over a beefy shoulder—“wants to file a complaint. Says you tried to run him over.”

Swearing, Fox invited the officers into the house and, using a laptop, accessed surveillance footage from the gate. It showed the photographer in question stepping in front of the car on purpose.

The cop rubbed his face. “All right. You want to press charges?”

“No. It’s exactly the kind of publicity the piece of shit is looking for.” Pitiless words, but Fox’s voice was calm. “They’ve already got photos of your black-and-white coming through the gates. Fuck knows what story they’ll spin from it.”

“Still,” the cop said, “I’ll have a talk with him, see if I can dissuade him from pulling a stunt like this again.”

“Thanks, but it won’t do any good. The roaches always rise again.” Closing the door after the police left, Fox slammed his fist against the wood not once but twice.

“Fox!” Molly grabbed his hand, saw broken skin. “You’ve hurt yourself.”

“Leave it.” Pulling away, he strode past her. “I need to be alone.”





Chapter 30


Already shaken by the scene at the gate and the resulting police visit, Molly felt every word as if it were a blow. Fox had never rejected her touch that way. Feeling lost, she made her way to her favorite spot by the pool and took out her phone. “Charlie?” she said when her best friend picked up on the other end. “Can you talk?” Her voice wobbled despite her best efforts to keep her emotions contained.

“I can always talk when you sound like that.” A rustling, as if Charlotte was moving around. “Give me a sec to make sure we won’t be disturbed.” Her best friend was back on the line before Molly could begin to worry about having interrupted her at work. “Okay, what’s the matter? Are you still freaked out about that photo?”

“No, that’s not it.”

“Good. Because I’ve decided to have it framed and put on the back of my front door. It’s what I aspire to every day—looking smoking hot while a sexy, sexy man puts his hands on me.”

Smiling through the shakiness—no doubt as Charlotte intended—Molly said, “Are you saying that to wind up T-Rex?”

“He’s not here. Away in Taupo to finalize a property purchase for his personal portfolio—I swear, the man wants to own the entire country,” she said, and Molly could almost see her rolling her eyes. “So, talk. What’s happened?”

As Molly and Charlotte spoke, she thought back to the start of her relationship with Fox, when she’d worried about his ability to contain things within while appearing as if nothing was the matter on the surface… and realized she’d never come up against that roadblock.

He trusted her, let her see him.

The knots in her spine began to unravel at the realization. He would, she was certain, share the reason for the depth of his anger once he’d calmed down. But hours passed, and Fox remained in his studio, not even coming up for dinner. Until, for the first time since they’d decided on a relationship, Molly faced the prospect of going to bed alone.

“Enough,” she said and, pulling on the robe of opulent black silk that Fox had bought her in New York, the fabric decadent against her skin, walked downstairs. The red light over the studio door was on, but Molly turned the handle and stepped inside.

Fox looked up with a scowl from where he was listening to something via headphones, his guitar propped up against the wall. Sliding the headphones down to his neck, he said, “Molly, you know you’re not supposed to walk in when the light’s red.”

She propped her hip against the complex control panel, lights blinking across the board and waves of sound charted on the built-in computer. “You’ve been down here for hours.”

“I’m working.” Shoving a hand through his hair, he took the headphones totally off and put them on the table to his left. “Sometimes I spend days in here. Get used to it.”

It was the way he said the last that had her eyes narrowing. “Fine”—she folded her arms—“then you should get used to a woman who cares about you. You missed dinner.”

“I’m hardly going to fade away.” Legs sprawled out and eyes glittering, he said, “Go to bed. I’ll be up when I’m done.”

“You’re done now.”

Rising to his feet in a sudden movement that sent her heart into her throat, he pressed up against her, hands on the panel on either side. “You don’t want to be with me in this mood, baby. Get upstairs, now.”

Molly reached between them to tug open the knot of her robe instead, letting the lush fabric slide off to pool on the panel, her body nude in his arms. Fox’s own body reacted as it always did to her, as hers did to him, but his eyes continued to glitter. “Using sex to get your own way?” It was a hard question, his hand thrusting between her legs.