Captivated By You (Love in the Heartland Book 1) Read online

  “I have my assumptions.”

  He huffed then, a sound that was anything but warm, bordering on icy. “Yeah, well, if you assumed it has anything to do with some twenty-year-old bitch, you’d be right.”

  My nose scrunched before I could help it. Men who called women bitches typically weren’t worthy of much.

  “What? Did I offend your sensible upbringing by calling her what she is?”

  “No.”

  “And yet you don’t like me calling some woman you don’t even know a bitch. Do you know what she tried to do to me?”

  His voice pierced through the air, sharp as a sword and stole my breath. I recalled what Karen said to me the day before, so assured in her promise I was safe with him.

  His rage certainly seemed genuine.

  “I’ve read all about your situation.”

  “Then you know why I needed some prissy little perfect girl to clean up my reputation. Show the world I’m not the man they’re now thinking I am.” He waved his arms out, gesturing I assumed, to his statement about the world.

  For a moment, I considered asking him if he did do it, but I held it back. For now, I’d trust Karen.

  I had issues with other things he said. “I’m not prissy, and I’m not perfect.”

  “Sweetheart, you couldn’t be more perfect if you tried. And,” he said, leaning forward, almost across the table so he could lower his voice, “I think what I want from you is becoming clear.”

  I cleared my throat. “What’s that?”

  “Whatever I want. Whenever I want. I did just spend an awful lot of money to make you mine, after all.”

  My stomach rolled and it had nothing to do with the dip of the plane as we began our descent.

  “Lovely,” I sneered.

  His smirk was evil. I wanted to slap it off his face and pull him to me and kiss it off. “It will be.”

  CHAPTER

  SIX

  CLAUDIA

  After arriving at the airport, we were whisked, if you could call it that, from the small airport toward his house in a jeep so old and small I thought it’d fall apart by the time we arrived wherever we were going. It lacked doors and a roof, only providing a roll bar across the top.

  Comforting.

  The roads were bumpy and could likely bounce me off the edge. I clung to the small metal bar next to my seat on the bench.

  Liam took the whole thing in stride. Although he was most likely used to it.

  “How often do you come here?” I asked him, as we bumped down the dirt road. Palm trees lined the road with the sprinkling mix of wild chickens wandering aimlessly.

  A part of me was terrified, well outside my comfort zone.

  The other part of me, the part that always wanted to travel to exotic places and away from the enclosures of five-star resorts, loved every thrilling minute.

  “Not as often as I’d like,” Liam said. “Mostly during the holidays. My parents always wanted to travel to the Caribbean and could never afford it. So I fly them all down here at least once a year for vacation.” His look turned wistful as we rolled up to his gated house. “My sister, Sophie, and her kids love being here.”

  His sweetness as he talked about his sister pulled me toward him. I could almost forget the salacious way he’d said “Whatever I want, whenever I want” on the plane.

  Almost, not quite.

  No. That was permanently etched into my brain and while he’d gone back to silent on the trip to his place until I decided, screw it.

  He wanted something from me? I’d play the role. Why? Because I could.

  If he thought I was some prissy little perfect princess who owed him, I’d be that for him.

  I’d never been the seductress before, too concerned about my family’s reputation to consider marring it by ending up in jail or having some sex tape made of me by frat boys in college.

  I’d spent my entire life living up to someone else’s expectations and demands. What was one more year?

  Then I remembered what he’d said on the plane and heat crept to my cheeks, spreading to my chest. I blamed the sun.

  Not the fact that he implied he’d take sex from me whenever he wanted because he could, which completely contradicted him implying he was innocent of raping a woman.

  But if that’s what he wanted, I’d give it to him. Because why the hell not? I had nothing to lose. Not anymore.

  As he unloaded our bags from the jeep and tipped the cab driver, I waited by the gate and followed him inside.

  The courtyard was stunning. Palm trees and exotic bushes draped the paved, pebbled walkway led to a vibrant burnt orange door. The house, from what I could see, was all white stucco with pops of the orange on shutters around the windows.

  “I had a service open up the house yesterday and air it out, clean it, and stock the fridge with food,” he said as he unlocked the door. “It should have everything you need, but if there’s something missing, let me know.”

  “Okay—” I pulled to an abrupt stop. My mouth dropped so wide open I was surprised it didn’t hit the floor as soon as we stepped in. “Holy crap.”

  His house was more stunning on the inside than out. White tiled floors, bright furniture. I barely saw any of it and was immediately pulled to the back of the house. Sweeping views of the ocean, the beach. An infinity pool that seemed to fall directly into the ocean from where I stood. A hot tub off to one corner and even a small Tiki-style bar were on one end.

  “I’m going to need more swimsuits,” I whispered, pressing a hand to the glass window. “Wow. How do you ever manage to leave this place?”

  A chuckle vibrated behind me. “Paradise? Eh. It’s nothing special.”

  His voice was full of teasing and I turned to him, not realizing he’d walked up right next to me. I bumped him with my arm and stepped back. “So. What now?”

  So much for seductive.

  So close to me, Liam made it hard to speak. Or think rationally. My gosh, the guy was tall. Built. On his knuckles, I caught sight of the word Love.

  I gawked at all of it, all of him, not realizing he was letting me.

  He was just so beautiful. Large. How someone with his frame could make holding a guitar and crowing into a microphone seem so graceful was only a minuscule amount of his talent.

  I watched an arm raise, moving as if in slow motion, perhaps I was just drunk on his ink and muscles and that minimal scent of him that wafted into the air and thrilled my senses. I jumped as his hand settled on my hip and my gaze darted to his.

  “If you want to eye fuck the rest of my ink, all you have to do is ask.” His lips pulled into that smirk he’d given me on the plane.

  Slap him. Kiss him.

  My brain and my body didn’t know what to do with myself when he looked at me like that. Plus, he was touching me. He hadn’t done that before. A thrumming heat from where his hand settled on my wrinkled linen shorts spread to places untouched.

  I squeezed my eyes closed and shook my head. “No. Thank you.”

  He laughed darkly. Richly. Good grief, he should come with a warning: Spontaneous combustion possible within twenty feet.

  “Claudia.” My name off his lips was clipped and serious. The heat on my lower half made my movements slow, but I opened my eyes and stared at him. Gone was the playfulness. Seriousness took its place. “I’m not that guy. The guy in the papers. I didn’t touch that girl.”

  “I believe you,” I rasped. And I realized I did.

  “Good.” With a nod. He dropped his hand from my hip and stepped back. “Now, how about I give you the grand tour, then we can get some dinner and go for a swim?”

  CHAPTER

  SEVEN

  LIAM

  This damn woman. My dick was hard from her perusal, but as much as I wanted to press my hands to her cheeks and seal my lips to hers, taking what I wanted—what I’d paid for, damn it—I wasn’t that guy.

  I would never be that guy.

  Despite her attitude, her sweet fucking sout
hern accent told me she’d lived a pretty privileged life herself. I had a feeling she wasn’t that girl.

  Something about her whispered innocence and reverence, neither of which I’d ever had my hands on.

  She believed me, too. Instantly. It might have been the first time I could remember someone looking at me, only belief and sincerity shining in their eyes, not a hint of doubt.

  I wanted her. I wanted her sweet smile on me, the darkness that loomed in her rich brown eyes. I wanted to know what made her laugh, what made her sad, and then I wanted to be the guy that would never do any of the things that would bring tears to her eyes.

  Which was beginning to make me a pussy. I spent most of the hours on the plane ignoring her so I didn’t throw her on the floor or the couch, and claim her like some caveman. That DNA must have been ingrained in me though, like the first men of time, because it was all I’d thought about since watching her ass sway away from me only yesterday.

  I’d finesse this. With her proper manners and class, she wasn’t the kind of girl you threw against a wall and slammed your dick into before you even kissed her properly.

  Not that I couldn’t do those things to her, I had paid for them after all. Which made me a dick for even bringing it up…twice. But that’s what she did to me. I could write a song for her, but talk to her? She left me tongue-tied.

  The mere thought of fucking her just because I’d paid for the privilege made my stomach clench. My mama taught me better than that, and so did my dad.

  No. I wiped my hands together and shoved them through my hair. I’d take my time. Seduce her.

  Make it good for her until she was as twisted up in me as I was becoming by her.

  “Let’s go look at the bedrooms and you can choose which one you want to stay in.”

  “I’m not sleeping with you?”

  She lobbed me that opening perfectly. For once, I chose not to take it. “No.” Her lips pressed together and for a minute I thought she was disappointed. The fuck? Had I read her wrong? “Unless you want to. Trust me, I won’t turn you down if you decide to climb on in with me.”

  Her eyes slid to me and that glare was back, making me grin and feel like a dick all at once.

  “I’ll take my own room.”

  “Okay, then.”

  I took her upstairs, knowing exactly which room she’d like. With the way she was drawn to the pool and the view, barely sparing my living room or kitchen a glance, there was only one room that had a view and private balcony comparable to mine.

  It was also where Sophie stayed when she and her family came here.

  Which meant I wouldn’t be screwing her in a room where my sister and her husband had probably done it multiple times—not that I wanted to think about that, either.

  “Your house is so beautiful,” Claudia said, eyes drinking everything in as we made our way to the stairway. “Did you decorate it?”

  “Ah, no.” I scratched the back of my neck. “Sophie did, actually.”

  “Does she do this for a living or something? She did everything perfectly.”

  “Fourth grade teacher, but I’ll tell her you approve. She spent three times more than the budget I gave her and took twice as long.”

  She smiled. It was faint but it still stole my breath. “Typical woman.”

  “And she’s got jokes,” I replied, mimicking what she’d said to me earlier.

  Cheeks turning pink, she looked away. “I don’t. Not usually.”

  Interesting. I’d delve into why that embarrassed her more later.

  I reached the door at the end of the hall, opposite the side of the house of mine and waited for her. “Sophie and Kevin usually stay in this room. I thought you’d like it the most. It’s got a helluva view. Almost as good as mine.”

  I opened the door and walked in, holding it open for Claudia to follow in behind me. Her reaction didn’t disappoint. As soon as she stepped into the room her breath caught and her eyes went wide.

  “Goodness,” she whispered, moving straight toward her private balcony. “I just don’t know how you could ever leave a home like this and return to L.A.” She whipped her head around. “You do live in L.A. Right?”

  I’d been touring for almost three straight years. I owned three different houses but didn’t consider any of them home. My tour bus was more of a home than any of my houses. I hadn’t lived in any long enough to really make it mine which was why I usually gave that job to Sophie during her summer breaks from school.

  “L.A. and New York,” I confirmed.

  “Which do you like more?”

  Neither. Some days, I really fucking missed the slowness of Kansas.

  “I spend most of my time in L.A.”

  She smiled sweetly, lips pressed together. A hint of little lines deepened at the edges of her eyes. “That’s not really an answer.”

  I shrugged and slid my hands into my jeans. “It’s the best I can give. Where are you from?”

  “Georgia.” She said it abruptly and turned back to the window, opening the latch on the sliding glass door and stepped outside.

  Oh-kay. What the hell was that?

  Funny how she’d drill me for answers when I had a Wikipedia page full of information yet she didn’t talk about herself.

  But it was another hint at who she was—or who she was hiding from—because this girl was definitely hiding from someone, even if it was herself.

  CHAPTER

  EIGHT

  CLAUDIA

  I despise talking about myself. I hated it before when everyone I was around already knew anything and everything about me. And I hated it more now that there was a truckload full of trash Liam could find out about me with a whip of his fingers on a keyboard.

  I curled my hands around the white metal railing and squeezed my eyes closed. I needed to tell him.

  It was the last thing I wanted to talk about.

  Infidelity had a PR team that could disperse information regarding their more famous couples slowly and cautiously, or they could rip it off like a Band-Aid. When it came time, Liam and I needed to come out to the world on our terms, not the paparazzi.

  Between his public relations people and Infidelity’s, there had to be a way to get out who he was connected to without causing a further shitstorm for us.

  Because for some damn reason, I actually liked the mega superstar. When he wasn’t acting like a jerk, insinuating he could take my body whenever he wanted, and when he wasn’t ignoring me, he sounded like he had his shit together.

  Lucky man.

  I’d been lost long before I was alone.

  Pushing and pulling against the railing, I moved in a semi-push up motion and tipped my head back. The sun soaked into my skin, heating me instantly while the breeze provided enough cool air I wasn’t a sweaty, humid mess.

  In the distance, birds chirped and the waves swooshed as they curled into the beach. Even with my eyes closed, I could picture the scene in front of me. Large, exotic plants and palm trees. Teal waters and white-capped waves rolling and brushing against white sandy beaches.

  If there was a word to describe how beautiful Liam’s house was, I didn’t know it. And I was a Lit major. Words were my thing.

  The gentle swoosh of the glass door echoed behind me and footsteps followed. Of course he’d follow me.

  “Where in Georgia are you from?”

  I laughed softly and forced my eyes open. Yep, the view was as beautiful. Exotic, romantic…so relaxing I wanted to settle into the wicker chaise lounge and never leave.

  “Savannah,” I all but whispered. “Why?”

  His shadow fell over my arms and then he was next to me at the railing. Arms crossed over his chest, I was inches from his arm. From him. From his ink that made me want to slide my tongue all over it.

  Hot damn. The man was too magnetic for safety.

  “Is it wrong to want to get to know the woman I’m spending the next year with?”

  A muscle jumped in his jaw and his eyes were narrowed,
focused on the sea.

  He had a point. “No.”

  His arms loosened, and he placed them on the railing, matching my stance. Our hands brushed against each other and he didn’t move to separate them. A current swam beneath my flesh where we touched. From my pinkie finger up my forearm to where the heat of his skin barely grazing mine disappeared under his T-shirt.

  “What do you want to know?” I asked.

  “For starters,” he turned to me and grinned. That mouth-watering grin I’d seen plastered on magazine covers all over the world for the last several years. “I think I should know your name.”

  “It’s Claudia.” Two black brows arched, lines rippled on his forehead and I cringed.

  “Is it that hard?”

  Yeah, it was that hard. “Townsend,” I bit out, grinding my teeth together.

  “Is there something I need to know?” he asked, turning to face me. One of his hands flew to his hips and the other gripped the railing. LOUD popped on his whitening fingers from his grip.

  “No.” The lie was bitter on my tongue and burned my throat, but I did it anyway. My heart tripped as I stared at those letters on his hand, wanting nothing more than to trace them with my fingertip. He had an entire family he loved, it was obvious in the way he spoke of them, and I was a girl who had nothing.

  I’d ruin him, and I’d go to hell for it. But I could pretend for a while to be someone else, anyone else. I’d tell him at some point.

  His hand on the railing loosened and then he was holding it out to me, like an offering. I turned, took his hand in mine and forced my eyes up.

  I was met with seeing beautiful and calculating ice blue eyes that sent shocks of heat straight to me. “Well then, Claudia Townsend.” One side of his lips lifted into a devastatingly beautiful grin. “Liam Allistor. Nice to meet you.”

  I couldn’t pull my eyes off his lips. His mouth. The way one of his teeth was slightly crooked, bent over a front tooth in the tiniest but cutest imperfection. And God. His jaw, his nose, his deep-set icy eyes that refused to look away from me.