“I thought I saw pictures of her over one of the other band member’s shoulders. But now you’re telling me this is your girlfriend?”

“You can’t believe everything you see in the tabloids, Mom.”

“Hmmm…I suppose,” his mother said as she tore off the top of a sugar packet and dumped the tiny grains into her iced tea.

Syon reached beneath the table and squeezed Kate’s hand. His mother didn’t miss it.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake.” She put down her iced tea a little too hard, and some of the dark liquid sloshed over the rim of the glass. “What am I doing wrong now? I can’t ask a legitimate question when I know for a fact that I saw a picture of this woman over your drummer’s shoulder? I’m being too difficult, is that it, Kevin? Too demanding in expecting the woman you bring home to meet your mother be more than one you pass around your band?”

“Now, now,” Syon’s father interceded. “You know what the psychologist said. Kevin has sensitive boundaries.”

Syon’s mother nodded at her husband. “I think sensitive is too mild a word.” She took another sip of her tea and fixed Kate with a look. “So what do you do, young lady?”

Kate had no idea what she ate for lunch. Syon looked like he didn’t taste his meal either. When the check came, his dad tried to pay it. By the time they were back in the car, Kate found herself looking at her cell phone.

“That was the longest two hours of my life.”

Syon had leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He stiffened as her comment sunk in.

“That was an attempt at levity,” she said.

Syon opened his eyes and looked at her. “I guess it was a lot to ask you to sit through that.”

Kate moved closer. Syon caught her head and put it on his chest. For a long moment, they just sat together, the sound of the car engine the only noise.

“I liked it,” she said at last.

“Bullshit.” Syon released her head and looked out the window.

She climbed onto his lap and cupped the sides of his face with her hands to bring his attention back to her.

“I did,” she said firmly. “I see where you get your passion from. Your mom has a definite streak of eccentric in her.”

Syon snorted. “She’s that, alright.” He closed his arms around her, holding her for another long moment. “But you couldn’t have enjoyed that.”

“I enjoyed knowing you wanted me to see it…Kevin.” In a way, it was cool to see him being treated like everyone else, his parents calling him by his birth name.

Understanding flashed in his eyes, and something else, something very vulnerable. They were standing on that uncertain ground again. That place where what they felt didn’t make a whole lot of sense.

It was a damned scary place to be. Uncertain to say the least.

“And I’m relieved,” Kate added.

Syon lifted an eyebrow. “How so?”

“If you ever meet my mom, you’ll understand.”

His lips curled. He leaned forward and kissed her. She melted into his embrace, enjoying the way her senses took over.

Because it was a lot less scary than thinking.

Chapter 6

“You rock, Kate.”

Taz was excited. His speech took on a slight Asian accent as he turned and looked at himself in the full-length, three-sided mirror she had set up in her makeshift shop.

“I love it.”

He did. Kate watched the way he stroked the lapels of the Loki jacket. She’d even made the under jerkin and pants for him.

“You got all the details.”

“You guys aren’t putting up with me for my good looks. My partner deserves some credit. He got all the leather and trim. Percy is a detail queen.” Kate gave credit where credit was due.

Taz shot her a grin. “You’re pretty cute, for not being Asian.”

“Thanks.”

“Got to go show Drake,” Taz said. “He’s a comic book hound too. He’ll be smoked that he didn’t think to ask you for something. Should warn you, he likes to be a pirate.”

“I’m here if he wants something.”

Taz took off, his pace brisk.

Kate took a moment to look at her design book. The Loki jacket was there, drawn out with notes. She’d changed it just a little and then knocked out some limited-edition jackets to be sold at designer cost. The contracted rights would be put to good use. Drake liked to be a pirate? She smiled as she started to sketch out a jacket.

But her neck was killing her. Stiff from too many hours bent over her machines and cutting table. She rolled her shoulders as she stood up and tried to work some of the stiffness loose.

Kate closed up her design book and went back to sorting through the hides, to decide what project to start next. The costume rack was filling up. She enjoyed looking at the growing number of pants on it. Now that the immediate concern was covered, she could turn to doing detail work. She toyed with slashing, making up samples to show to the band members for consideration. The day wore on, the hotel becoming quiet as everyone made their way over to the arena where the concert was going to be held. She checked the time, making sure she wasn’t running late.

“We need to talk.”

Kate looked up, the note in Cid’s voice warning her that the road manager was in the mood for a fight. One look at his face, and she was certain of it. He wasn’t afraid to assert his authority.

Piss on his turf, you mean.

But that didn’t necessarily make him a turd. Life was a competitive sport. Everyone had to scratch out their spot and defend it.

She laid down her scissors. “Yes?”

“Are the terms of your contract unclear?” he began.

Kate didn’t even blink. “Not a bit.”

Cid made a wide gesture with his hands. “Oh, I think there is a huge discrepancy. You don’t seem to understand what you’re here to do.”

She pointed toward the rolling rack of finished pants. It was sectioned off by performer, and she’d even added one of the vests Ramsey was so fond of.

“If there is a problem with my production rate—”

“There’s a problem with the fact that you’re in here making costumes when I’ve hired you to make stage clothing,” Cid fired out. “Taz doesn’t need to be wasting his time playing adolescent dress up. We don’t have room on this tour for someone who doesn’t have their attention focused on what brings in the money.”

“Oh, I’m focused.”

Cid was every inch the asshole she’d decided he was. The need to pound her down was glittering in his eyes.

But she wasn’t going to take it.

“If you want an accounting of my time, I’ll give it to you. Including overtime, which”—she lifted her hand when he tried to interrupt—“is clearly outlined by the terms of my contract. I have produced more than sufficient product, and what I do in my off time is a private matter between me and my client.”

“You work for me,” Cid insisted.

“During the allotted hours only. Because travel time is part of my hours,” she said. “I’ll get you that time sheet.”

She picked up her shears and looked back at her cutting table. It was a bold move, but slightly more professional than telling the jerk off. He stood there a moment.

“Better be in my inbox by the end of the day.” Cid stormed out of the suite.

Asshole…

She’d never met a more fitting subject for the word. What worried her was how crafty the road manager was. He’d planned his little shakedown for when Syon and the rest of the band were doing sound checks. There was also the fact that not a single member of his entourage was in attendance. Which was a real rarity. Cid liked to have someone ready to fetch his cappuccino; that was for sure.

No witnesses.

His word against hers.

Something tingled on her nape, a feeling of foreboding that she had trouble shaking free.

Well, she wasn’t going to worry about it.

Nope.

After all, she was a warrior princess.

* * *

“Kate, my dear.”

Kate was suddenly wide-awake. Percy only called her “my dear” when he was going to unleash a life lesson on her.