text: "Smile, Blaine. If your publicist saw you right now, she'd have a heart attack."
  
  Blaine glared at her brother, then plastered a smile on her face, turned, and waved to the crowd of screaming fans. The shouts grew louder. Signs—some with her image, some bearing her name, others with lines from her songs—bounced above the heads of those gathered. She blew a couple of kisses and replied back to the chants that surrounded her, but after a few minutes, her cheeks hurt from holding the smile.
  
  Avery grasped her elbow, saving her from her own faked excitement, and led her to the stage door while Alex cleared the way for them. The moment the metal door clanged shut behind them, she exhaled loudly.
  
  Her brother glanced at her. "Seriously, Blaine. What's your problem? You've been miserable ever since you returned from the States. Was your mini vacation that bad?"
  
  "She's moping over what she left behind. Give her time. She'll get over it."
  
  Blaine slid Alex a furious glare. "You've overstepped your boundaries, Mr. Smith. Do remember that even though Eliot gave you a leave so you could act as my guard that I'm the one paying for your services. Those do not include your opinions of my personal life."
  
  Rage slipped into Alex's eyes. He blinked, and the animosity faded, replaced by the cool demeanor Alex normally portrayed, but Blaine wouldn't soon forget that glimpse into Alex's soul.
  
  Alex cracked his jaw. His Russian accent faded. A British one replaced it, giving the words he spoke in Russian an odd quality. "I'm only stating the facts. Not opinions. The facts are that you were sexually involved with a man you met while visiting your friend. A man who I thought I'd have to pry you away from at the airport."
  
  Blaine stepped back. "Sexually involved? How exactly would you know that?"
  
  Alex made an amused sound. "Please, I found a pair of your torn underwear outside the cabin where you were staying, and your lover greeted me at the door wearing only a towel. It's not rocket science putting those two things together."
  
  Blaine took another step back. "My underwear? You found my underwear? What exactly were you doing on the back deck of my cabin anyway? There was no reason for you to have gone there." And where exactly was her underwear now?
  
  Actually, she didn't want to know. The internet was a great place to sell something like that. Some of her hardcore fans would pay a small fortune for it. Coming direct from her bodyguard would guarantee they'd pay any price. Alex wouldn't be the first person close to her to betray her privacy while making a nice profit.
  
  Alex raised a hand. "Calm down, Blaine. I'm not a creep. If I was, I never would have admitted to finding your underwear, which I made sure got into a garbage can, by the way. And that was not a task I enjoyed. I don't particularly like women, but Eliot asked me to make sure you were safe in that cabin. Inspecting the grounds is standard practice. Ask your brother."
  
  She glanced over her shoulder at her brother. Avery studied the man Eliot had recommended with a judging eye. Without looking at her, Avery inclined his head. "Yes. Very basic. So is drawing conclusions about those things and people in your environment."
  
  "You see." Alex smiled. "And I do apologize for overstepping my boundaries. After working for Eliot so long, I've forgotten what's expected of a guard."
  
  Alex's explanation sounded logical. Eliot had often referred to Alex as an assistant, not his bodyguard, and they were close, very close. Many people suspected they were lovers. They had been together exclusively for a long time. She could see them sharing opinions and gossip, probably involving her.
  
  She licked her lips. "Thank you. I expect you'll make sure those boundaries aren't crossed again."
  
  "Of course." Alex dipped his chin. "Let me check with the staff to make sure everything is as it should be."
  
  Avery followed Alex's retreating back with his gaze, then led her to her dressing room without speaking. The moment they entered the private hallway, he glanced at her. "I should find a replacement for Alex as soon as possible, shouldn't I?"
  
  "No." Annoying Eliot wouldn't be the smartest choice. She hadn't decided if she wanted to join his orchestra yet. Complaining about his assistant or his lover or whatever Alex was to Eliot might make him retract his offer. Besides, he had acted appropriately, at least in regards to keeping the evidence of her encounter with Jack from finding its way to the web. "But assign Alex to behind-the-scenes stuff so I don't have to deal with him."
  
  Avery motioned to himself. "I'm feeling better. There's no reason for Alex to remain. We'll thank both Alex and Eliot for their help and call it even."
  
  "You were shot multiple times a little over a month ago." She glared at her brother. The memory of finding out he'd been shot the same night as Iona had been kidnapped was still fresh in Blaine's mind. She never wanted her loved ones to suffer any pain ever again. "You shouldn't even be here today."
  
  "I'm fine. Really." Avery narrowed his eyes on her. "Walking alongside you isn't strenuous work."
  
  "And if you had to act as my bodyguard? Wrestle an overly adoring fan away or shove back reporters?"
  
  "Give me a couple of weeks. I swear I'm fine."
  
  Shaking her head, she opened the door. The scent of roses greeted her. Several displays overtook the makeup table. She grinned. Her hardcore fans hadn't let her down, even after her last album. She glanced over her shoulder. "Fine. I plan on confining myself to my town house after the show for a few weeks anyway."
  
  "Confining yourself? Why?"
  
  "My violin is calling me. I want to spend some quality time with it."
  
  "Just because Eliot bought Dad's violin—"
  
  "My violin." She cut her brother off. "I should've gotten it on my sixteenth birthday."
  
  "—doesn't mean you owe him more than your thanks."
  
  "He got my thanks already, but this is about the music, not Eliot. Holding the Zima violin has reawakened my passion. Playing it makes me feel…" Blaine searched for the words to describe her emotions while playing. The look on Jack's face after she'd played for him flashed across her mind. "Like I can bring heaven to earth."
  
  "When you play, every Zima who ever played our violin stands with you." Avery nodded. "I remember what Father used to say. It was his favorite line to try to convince me to play."
  
  It might not have worked on her older brother, but her dad's words had inspired her.
  
  "Yes." Blaine spoke the word softly, reverently. "I miss him."
  
  "Me too. I never got to prove to him I wasn't a failure." Avery glanced at the ground. "Of course, what happened to Iona—"
  
  "Was her ex's fault. Dmitri was sick. Is sick. He's still trying to hurt Iona, using his family this time instead of paid men."
  
  "Hurt her how?"
  
  "He's trying to make it difficult for her to stay in America. It's a long story." Blaine didn't want to get into the details either. Avery had made his opinion on marriage known over the past couple of weeks. Only fools would sign their names to a piece of paper legally binding two people's lives.
  
  "How long does Iona plan on staying?"
  
  She shrugged in answer.
  
  "Wait." Avery narrowed his eyes. "She's not actually thinking of marrying the American, is she?"
  
  Oh yes. Her brother's view on love had been forever damaged. "She's looking at what it would take to get a green card and plans on investing in something to help the residents of Sander's Valley."
  
  "Iona should be careful. Americans often assume Russians are doing something illegal, even when we're only visiting. If she moves there, she'll be opening herself up to a lot of scrutiny and possibly dangerous accusations."
  
  "True, but Iona's the most honest, good-hearted person I know." If the way people had greeted Iona the few times Blaine had gone out with her was any indication, the residents of Sander's Valley had already reached the same conclusion.
  
  "I don't like it. She should have someone watching her back."
  
  "She does." Several someones, including Jack.
  
  "The American and his family, right?"
  
  "Yes." The Sander family would take very good care of Iona. Of that, Blaine had no doubt.
  
  "Meanwhile, you're stuck with a crude British bodyguard and an injured brother."
  
  "Only for a little while longer."
  
  Avery snorted. He shook his head. "You do realize that if you agree to this tour, Alex will be constantly around you."
  
  "And? What do you think will happen if I tell Eliot I'll quit if he doesn't rein in his employee?" She raised a brow.
  
  "Fair point. That man is obsessed with you. If I didn't know Eliot and his family so well, I'd be worried." Avery motioned to the room. "It's late. You need to get ready. I'll be back with a cart for those flowers."
  
  Blaine glanced at the flowers. The retired officer who claimed she looked just like his deceased daughter had sent his usual pre-show gift—a potted rosebush. A huge and heavy rosebush in a ceramic pot.
  
  "Don't worry about them. We'll get them after the show. As you said, I'm already running late. My makeup artist will be here soon, and I still haven't decided on an outfit." If leaving the flowers to sit ensured Avery wouldn't be lifting anything too heavy, all the better. Alex could haul them later.
  
  "Fine. I want to follow up with the staff too. Just to make sure everything really is as it should be." After growing up together, then working together, she knew her brother well. Failing Iona in New York had hurt his confidence in his own abilities. Of course he'd want to double-check everything.
  
  "Sounds good." Blaine closed the door, sealing herself inside with the flowers and her pre-show anxiety.
  
  She pressed a hand to her stomach. No matter how many times she walked on stage, she always got nervous. Today, her gut heaved. She couldn't help but wonder how her fans would react to this show. It'd be the first one featuring songs from her latest album, the one she was sure had turned some people into non-listeners.
  
  Blaine closed her eyes on a deep breath, then made her way to the makeup counter and moved the vases and pots to the floor. A bouquet of black roses lay against the mirror. Morbidly beautiful, the flowers stood out among the colorful displays she'd gotten used to seeing upon entering her dressing room.
  
  A new superfan, maybe?
  
  She drew the card tucked between the black petals. A request for her most controversial song, typed in an ordinary font, decorated the back of the plain white card.
  
  [ Black Widow ]
  
  The dark, twisted lyrics of a song about a woman scorned played through her head. Although it was part of her new album, she'd never performed it. She'd practiced it, though. So had her band. They loved it. She'd leave it up to them. She had no desire to embrace the hateful emotions or to wish her lover death, not after meeting Jack. The very thought of never seeing him again, even if they didn't resume their physical relationship, chilled her. The world needed his smile.
  
  Heck, who was she kidding? Being on the receiving end of his smile would be the goal of every future trip she made to the States.
  
  It was only a song, though. One of the few songs on her latest album that had hit the charts. Getting a chance to walk into the crowd would please her fans too.
  
  Blaine swept the bouquet of black roses in the trash. Even if she sang it, no name meant no thank-you on her website, a tradition that likely encouraged her hardcore fans to continue sending her roses.
  
  Her cell phone vibrated. She dug it from her jacket pocket. The selfie she'd taken with Jack at the airport showed on the screen. She hadn't talked to him since that night.
  
  Blaine swept a shaky finger across the screen. "Jack?"
  
  "Hey, angel."
  
  Jack's voice slipped through her on a contented sigh. Eyes closed, she gripped her phone tighter. "What did I do to deserve this? International calls are not cheap."
  
  "I wanted to wish you luck."
  
  A warm feeling spread through her. "You remembered?"
  
  "Of course. I've had this call planned since you left. Even asked Iona the best time to catch you before your stylist steals you away. You are able to talk to me, right?"
  
  "Yes." Even if she hadn't been, she would've made time. Jack was calling her…from Sander's Valley. "What time is it there?"
  
  "A little after ten. I've got my coffee and Iona's getting the live stream set up so we can watch your show."
  
  With her lip caught between her teeth, she glanced at the optional outfits she'd selected for tonight. The bra-like top and shorts, paired with knee-high boots, didn't come close to turning her into an angel, unless she identified as a wicked angel, but the selection was mostly white. "I'll dress for you in mind, then."
  
  "I can't wait. I've missed seeing you."
  
  "I've missed you too. Hearing you, touching you, seeing your smile." She replied without giving any thought to how needy she sounded. Summer flings—if what she and Jack had shared even qualified as one—were not supposed to leave her reaching at night for a lover she'd enjoyed for a handful of days.
  
  "Next summer is a long time away." The disappointment in Jack's voice resonated within Blaine. They'd never gotten the chance to do many things together. Including enjoying sex in his bed.
  
  The way he'd look at her while carrying her into his home had sent shivers of anticipation through her. Too bad waitressing had left her achy, tired, and sore. The massage he'd given her once they made it to his bed had put her to sleep.
  
  "Do you have plans for Christmas?" The formal dinners and appearances planned by both her mother and publicist would be draining and annoying knowing Jack would be sharing the holiday with his family.
  
  "Normal stuff, I guess. Why?"
  
  Was that a hint of excitement in Jack's voice? She grinned and turned away from the makeup table and trash can. "I was thinking about making another trip to the States to see the tree in Rockefeller Center. Would you meet me there?"
  
  "I wouldn't miss it."
  
  "Are you sure you want to commit now? It's months away. You don't know what you'll be doing. Or who you'll be doing it with." Tension slithered into her shoulders. "You might have a girlfriend by then."
  
  "I won't." No hesitation. No uncertainty. Jack spoke the two words with conviction.
  
  How could he be so sure? He might meet the love of his life over the next couple of months. "But—"
  
  "I won't by seeing anyone. I guarantee it."
  
  "Why the certainty?" She had to know.
  
  The silence filling the line sped Blaine's pulse. Finally, Jack exhaled loud enough for her to hear. "Because no one I meet will compare to you. Might as well not bother with anyone. I'll just end up disappointed."
  
  Smiling, Blaine punched the air with her free hand. She felt like a schoolgirl, but the satisfaction of knowing she wasn't the only one who'd been dealing with unexpected emotions and the longing that had been plaguing her since she left the States made her night.
  
  "What about you, Blaine? Maybe you shouldn't be making plans now. Lots can happen in a few months' time. You are busy."
  
  Hugging herself, Blaine turned in a slow circle. The sudden urge to grab her violin gripped her. She wanted to try out a couple of chords. They might be the perfect transitional stitching to her symphony, blending the earlier movements with the finale. "A successful woman knows to book the most important events far in advance. Planning is everything, Jack."
  
  "Yeah?" Jack's voice took on a sexy cadence she felt in her bones. "Did you plan for us to get together, then? 'Cause loving you in the cabin that first day sure didn't feel planned."
  
  "No. Not at all." She laughed. "But a wise woman won't let an opportunity of a lifetime slip through her fingers."
  
  Jack groaned. "December is too far away."
  
  A little over two weeks had passed since she'd left Jack. She missed him. Ached for him in a way that didn't involve sex. She missed talking to him. Laughing with him. Playing her violin for him. She was fairly certain what the longing meant.
  
  She was falling in love.
  
  Taking a chance, Blaine inhaled deeply, then let her fear slip away with her exhaled breath. Her father had taught her the simple calming technique. She employed it before every show. Anxiety and fear had no place on stage in front of thousands of people.
  
  Or with the man who'd somehow slipped into her heart.
  
  "You're right, Jack. December is too far away."
  
  "The time apart might make or break us."
  
  Blaine froze, breath caught and every muscle tense. "Is there an us?"
  
  The silence that stretched between them chilled her blood. She hugged herself tighter and fought the self-destructing thoughts creeping into her mind. Jack felt something toward her that went beyond lust. She would not doubt her instincts on this. Otherwise, he wouldn't have brought anything up about an "us."
  
  Finally, Jack's voice filled the line. "Yes. I'm not sure how it happened, but there's an us. At least in my eyes."
  
  Blaine bunched the front of her shirt. "Mine too."
  
  "Thank God." Jack muttered the words. "I was hoping I wasn't the only one feeling this way."
  
  "You're not. I don't how it happened either, but all I want to do is step into your arms. Except you're not here, and I'm lonely." She shook her head on a bitter laugh. "There's a music hall full of fans waiting for me to walk out on stage, and I'm lonely. It's crazy."
  
  "Not crazy." Jack's laugh sounded as hollow as hers. "Every time I see a flash of blonde hair out of the corner of my eye, I keep thinking it's you. The disappointment sucks. Then I have to remind myself I won't be seeing you for a very long time."
  
  "Christmastime now."
  
  "That's a hell of a lot better than the summer, but it's still too far away. You might be seeing me sooner."
  
  "Will I?" Lip caught between her teeth, she held the phone tighter and fought the excitement his words brought.
  
  "Yep. Maybe in four to six weeks if I'm lucky. I just sent my passport applications in. Not sure how long it'll take to get approval to enter Russia, though. They might not be too keen on an ex-Marine visiting."
  
  No, they probably wouldn't be too eager to grant Jack a visa. She'd have to make a couple of phone calls to speed up the process. "Then prepare to be treated to all the touristy things my country has to offer. I'll take you to all the places I love."
  
  "I can't wait."
  
  Blaine laughed. "I think we're getting sappy. I always thought people in love were the ones who got sappy."
  
  "Then I guess we're falling in love, because I need you, Blaine. More than my next breath."
  
  Love.
  
  The word bounced around in her head. All the implications of loving an American pressed down on her. Mixed into the reality were her own jaded thoughts. She'd seen how devastated her mother had been after losing her father. His death changed her, turning the once fun and loving woman into a bitter and cold widow.
  
  Blaine's heart didn't want to hear any doubt. She knew what she needed.
  
  "I need you too, Jack. More than—" A hard knock on the door sounded. The voice of her stylist reached her. Blaine sighed. "I've got to go. My makeup artist is here. I'll call you after the show."
  
  "Okay. Have a good show, angel."
  
  Smiling, Blaine closed her eyes and let her heart speak for her. "I love you, Jack."
  
  Blaine ended the call before the weight of those three words made her heart ache. She'd fallen in love with a man who lived on another continent and didn't fit into her world. But…she wasn't sure she fit into her world anymore either.