The pang of sorrow was as strong as the stab of guilt. Kate had been so good on this tour, not complaining about the constant travelling and the hectic schedule. He'd had a fabulous opportunity to do something nice for her and he'd blown it.
Maybe he'd made a mistake bringing her on tour with him. What did he know about being a parent? He was making it up as he went along.
Perhaps Kate should have gone to summer camp like Kate's aunt Susan had suggested.
Emily switched off the television and stood. "Don't worry about it. She'll get over it."
That wasn't the point. Emily didn't understand. He strode over to the dining table where his laptop sat and switched it on. He had to fix this. If Libby was promoting her book, she might be doing a book signing somewhere around Melbourne tomorrow. He sat down, already focused on his task, when he realized Emily was standing next to him. "Why don't you go to bed?"
He needed a nanny to care for Kate while he was performing or doing publicity, but he didn't like having a stranger in his space. Emily was nice enough and definitely competent, otherwise he wouldn't have let her near his niece, but she wasn't family, or a friend, and he wanted to be alone.
Emily came around behind him and massaged his shoulders. "You look tense."
He shrugged her off and half-turned in his chair. "I'm fine. I'm sure you're tired. I'll see you in the morning."
"You know, I could help you release some of your worries."
She wasn't referring to a massage. Christ, he didn't need this now.
He should have gone for the older woman he'd interviewed, but she'd seemed too spacey, so he'd chosen the younger, highly organized and far more attractive Emily, who came recommended by one of Susan's friends.
"That's not necessary. I'm going to see if Libby Myles has a book signing tomorrow and then go to sleep myself." He kept his tone polite but distant. He wasn't interested.
She didn't take the hint. She leaned forward, her scent wafting toward him thick and cloying. It was like being ambushed by a rose bush and just as thorny.
"Come on, Kent. We both know it's inevitable. I've seen the way you look at me. Why don't we stop denying this attraction?" She glanced over her shoulder at Kate's bedroom. "Kate will be asleep by now, and if we go to my room we won't disturb her."
Her first mistake was using his stage name. Anyone close to him, anyone who knew him, called him Adrian. Her biggest mistake, though, was the suggestion he leave his niece alone in a strange hotel room. He stood slowly, keeping his eyes on hers. She must have seen the anger in them, as she stepped back.
"I'm not interested, ma'am." His tone suggested she was anything but a lady. "I suggest you leave now."
Emily pouted. "Don't play games with me, Kent. It's not nice."
"I'm sure as heck not playing any games."
She stepped back, her face flushed – with embarrassment or anger, he didn't know which. "You've been leading me on all this time. I don't have to put up with this treatment." She turned and stalked to the door. "I quit."
Just like Kate, Emily slammed the door behind her.
Chapter 2
Adrian stared after her in disbelief before sinking back into the chair. He acknowledged the hint of relief that she was gone but what the heck was he going to do now? He had no nanny and tomorrow morning was filled with radio interviews and sound checks before his concert that night. He ran his hand through his hair thinking frantically. He should call George.
There was a noise behind him and he turned. Kate stood at her bedroom doorway, her pajamas on, holding Sebastien Bear, her ever faithful teddy bear. "Was that Emily yelling?"
He wasn't going to lie to her. "Sure was. She's decided not to look after you anymore." He stood and walked over to her.
"Why not?" She squinted up at him, suspicion all over her face.
Neither was he going to tell her the whole truth. "We had a disagreement." He put a hand on her shoulder and steered her back toward her room. "You need to get some sleep if you're going to be coming to my radio interviews in the morning."
Her face lit up like a carnival. "Really?"
"Yep."
"Awesome!" She hugged him tightly before leaping into bed and snuggling down, pulling the sheet up to her chin.
Just like that he was forgiven.
Adrian leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Sweet dreams, kiddo."
"Same to you."
He brushed her hair off her face and gave her a wink. When he reached the door her voice called out, "Uncle Ade."
He turned.
"Did I do something wrong?" Her eyes were full of concern and she looked younger than her ten years.
"Of course not." He came back into the room and sat down on the edge of her bed. "She liked looking after you. The disagreement was between the two of us."
"Did she kiss you?"
Where the heck had that come from? "No."
"She wanted to."
Adrian frowned. "What makes you say that?"
"I heard her talking to a friend one night. She said it was only a matter of time before she got you in her bed."
Adrian cursed Emily but kept his voice light. "Well, it's not going to happen, kiddo. Why don't you forget about it and go to sleep?"
Kate turned over on to her side, hugging Sebastien Bear. "I won't miss her. She wasn't much fun."
Adrian closed his eyes briefly. Kate had never said anything about her nanny before now. He cursed Emily again. "I'm sorry." He rose and walked to the door.
"Will you turn the stars on?"
He turned at her voice. "Sure thing." He walked over to the star night-light and switched it on. Stars appeared on the ceiling. He blew her a kiss, not allowing the anger to cross his face until he had turned away.
Damn that woman! Kate had been doing so well during the last few months. Sleeping with the light off, no more nightmares – and now with this one upset, she was back to needing the comfort of her stars. He couldn't blame her, but it was a step back in her recovery. He would have to be vigilant and make sure the next few weeks were as settled and easy as possible.
At least he knew one thing he could do to make it up to her.
Adrian sat down at his laptop and typed "Libby Myles book signing" into the search engine.
He could introduce her to her idol.
***
Libby needed coffee. There was still another half an hour of the book signing to go, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to stay focused. There was no air movement and the heating was turned up to drowsy warmth. The droning voices in the bookshop as well as the cars on the street made it hard to hear.
The bookshop owner had set her up on a tiny table at the front of his store, almost as if she were part of the display. He'd gone to the effort of throwing a white tablecloth over the table, dragging a plastic chair from out the back and even splashing out for a bottle of water. Libby's publicist had left after making sure Libby was set up, as she had an urgent meeting she had to attend. Libby hadn't minded, because the other signings she'd done had been fine, but she hadn't realized until now the little things her publicist had done for her, like topping up her bottle of water and talking with the bookstore owner.
Libby checked her watch. She'd been here almost three hours.
She'd only planned on writing a couple of pages of her latest manuscript after the talk show last night, but the story had flowed, and before she knew it, it was two in the morning.
Now she was desperately trying to stay awake, ignore her aching hand and show her fans the attention they deserved. She handed a blank notebook to the young girl standing in front of her. "Write your name, there so I'll spell it right when I write in the front of your book."
The girl's mother snatched the pad out of her daughter's hands and scrawled a name down before thrusting it back at Libby. "Jane is not difficult to spell."
Libby put on her best polite-and-pleasant smile. "I've seen three different spellings of Jane so far and it's often hard to hear over the din when people spell it out. I'd hate to get it wrong." She turned to the young girl. "Who's your favorite character, Jane?"
"I love Shannon. She's so brave." The girl jigged up and down.
"You'll love what she gets up to in this story," Libby said as she wrote in the front of the book. She handed it back to Jane and flexed her sore hand. "I hope you enjoy it."
As the girl and her mother turned away from the table, Libby applied the now warm cold pack to her hand and checked the line. Another ten people and she was done. She loved meeting her fans, but today her hand ached like she'd hit it with a hammer. There was only the slightest tinge of bruising, though – nowhere dark enough for the pain it gave her. She swallowed a yawn as the next person stepped up.