Carly stood shakily to her feet and turned away from Byrne. She wanted him like a kid wants her favorite toy on Christmas morning. She couldn't do this. She was seconds away from lifting her skirt and impaling herself on his huge cock. Sure, people had on-the-road flings… hell, she'd had one or two over the years. They meant nothing. When she gazed into those whiskey-and-grass-colored eyes of his, she knew it would mean everything. He was hopeless. No, he hadn't drunk anything, but he'd let those women have their way with him. He was a whore, and she couldn't figure out why.

She heard him say, "Carly?" in a voice so raw, so emotional she almost ran back to him. But she didn't, she kept walking.

Nevan cooled his heels in Brogan's private suite. The concert was tomorrow night. He had called Carly, and she'd reserved him the room across the hall from Brogan. She wouldn't tell him much about his brother, which had him guessing a lot had happened. She said, "Ask your brother." The girlfriend dropped him, Reese had told him as much. What else had happened since Philadelphia, he wasn't sure he even wanted to know.

He crossed his arms and leaned back into the plush sofa. Brogan was a funny bloke, like he was one to talk. He certainly was the prettiest of all the brothers, which attracted the ladies. But Nevan had the feeling Brogan was broken inside and had been for a long time.

He wouldn't ask him any questions about whatever he carried inside him. Nevan had enough of his own secrets. Pity was the reason he'd decided to make the trip to Newark. Pity for Brogan, the rich rock star. Since Reese had washed his hands of him, and deservedly so, he couldn't abandon his older brother as well. He had to see for himself how Brogan was faring.

* * * *

Brogan walked into the suite. There was Nevan lounging on the couch. He had mixed feelings about having anyone from the family here. He was even more vulnerable, if it were possible. Growing up in Dublin, the Byrnes didn't have much. His father, Seamus, was a laborer, who barely kept the wolf from the door. In a family of seven children there wasn't much privacy either. The five boys were in one room and the two girls in another. Stacked like bleedin' cord wood. They had hand-me-down clothes, and it was a struggle to keep food on the table. With his first big royalty check, Brogan bought his parents a good-sized home on Marrowbone Lane. He gave all his siblings money. He brought Nevan and Reese over to the States and gave them high-paying jobs as his assistants. Times were tough in Ireland, so he was glad to help. Say what you will, he loved his family.

Brogan's thoughts drifted back to his parents. To this day they still loved each other deeply and made sure their home was alive in laughter and affection, then and now. So what was wrong with him or Nevan, for that matter? Neither of them had any lasting, meaningful relationship like their parents.

Nevan, who was eighteen months younger, never let anyone get close. He still didn't. Maybe Brogan should take a page from his book, but really who had he let close lately? Not even Abbie had understood him. He kept a part of himself removed from her and from everyone. The closest he'd come to opening his heart was when he kissed Carly on the beach. He thought about the devastating kiss constantly and thought about her. She acted as if the whole incident didn't happen. The women on the beach—what possessed him? He knew. The demon. He took a seat opposite Nevan.

"So, my brother, how's it been going? Able to keep sober?" Nevan asked pointedly.

"Barely. I'm on some prescriptions to help deal with it."

He wasn't telling anyone about the VD. He was shocked he'd told Carly. Abbie was ashamed, so she wouldn't tell. Frankly, he was a little ashamed himself. He certainly did not want to hear "I told you so, brother" from Nevan. Not today. Did anything rattle Nevan? Well, one thing he would tell him about was his brush with death. He wanted to talk to someone about it even though he had tried to put it out of his mind.

"I almost died in New York." He said the words in a firm strong voice. "Wasn't my intent, I just… Abbie broke up with me and I didn't take it well. I drank, swallowed down some pills, and almost choked to death on my own vomit. Carly saved me with CPR."

Nevan kept silent, but his steady, assessing gaze did not waver from Brogan.

"You think me a stupid wanker, don't you, Nevan? You always did. I can see the disdain in your eyes."

Nevan shrugged. "No more a wanker than the rest of us. But lately, aye. Do you blame the lass for giving you the kick? I don't. And Reese? You did some damage there. I'm not sure he will forgive you anytime soon."

Reese. God knows what he said in Philly. It had to be bad. Reese could be slow to anger, but once he was riled it would take the devil's own shoulder to shift him. "I'm a feckin' mess."

"Aye, my brother, you are. And the mess is not of a recent event, I'll wager. Whatever is smashed inside you manifests itself with this destructive behavior. I thought your music would be a productive outlet for whatever damage, but it seems to have made things worse."

Before Brogan could answer there was a sharp rap on the door. Carly entered, teetering precariously on red and orange platform shoes through the long shag carpet. Brogan's face lit up like the boardwalk in Blackpool at her appearance. The flush spread to his entire body.

"Nevan Byrne, you made it. Do you like your room? Only the best for the brother." She smiled warmly.

She sat down next to Nevan on the sofa. "You must join us for dinner tonight, Nevan, I hope you like steak. Let me know your preferences, food- and drink-wise, and I'll see it done."

"You make a bloke feel welcome, Carly. Thank you."

"I'm looking forward to some conversation. Your brother isn't much of a talker," Carly teased, glancing briefly at Brogan.

"Well, lass, I'm not much better, but for you I will try."

"Tell me, are there more brothers besides you two and the younger one—what was his name—Reese?"

"Aye, there's Brogan, myself, Reese, and two in their late teens, Barry and Shane," Nevan replied.

"Wow. You have sisters too? You have a big family. I always wished I had siblings," Carly replied, her tone friendly.

Brogan watched the conversation and byplay between Carly and Nevan and his heart clenched in his chest. She hardly glanced his way. She didn't speak to him. He might as well not even be in the bleedin' room. Since the night on the beach she only spoke to him when needed, or she sent Gio with her orders. He let her walk away from him. He should have gone after Carly on the beach, but he was stunned by the feel of her lips and her body on top of his. Brogan nearly came right there when she pushed him down on his back. He ached for something and someone he had never ached for before in his life. Not even Tarrah. He knew nothing, nothing at all. And Abbie? He loved her in his way, but she didn't move him like this. How quickly he seemed to have gotten over her. Not much substance there at all. Not much substance in himself, truth be told.

Carly stood. "I'll check on dinner. Also don't forget the sound check is at eight, Byrne. Bring Nevan with you." She headed for the door without a backward glance at him. His eyes scanned those sexy platforms all the way up those gorgeous legs to the tight denim skirt. Shite, he was getting hard. He shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. The door closed softly behind Carly.

"All right, what in the feck is going on, Brogan? You could cut the bleedin' tension, sexual and otherwise, in here with a knife. You got over Abbie quick enough."