Remastered Read online

  “You’re wrong,” she barked. “I do listen to what I’m working on. It’s always the first thing that I do.” She hit a switch and the room flooded with the sound of Xane’s voice, and the thunderous thrash of guitars.

  Xane’s expression didn’t alter. “Then maybe you’ll surprise me. I look forward to it.” He strutted towards the door, Ash following on his heels.

  Sometimes, Xane could be an atrocious prick.

  “Are you coming, Spook?” Ash asked.

  Spook spied Alle’s tightly pursed lips and the vexation burning in her eyes. “I think I’ll stay a while. Maybe offer some constructive input.”

  Ash sighed. “You know he’s already made up his mind. You know what he’s like.”

  “Desperately in need of a good lay,” Alle muttered to herself. Spook was sure she hadn’t intended them to hear her, though her remark was more accurate than she could ever imagine. When his life went down the pan, sex was the only thing that seemed to have any impact on Xane’s mood. Right now he needed to get himself laid a good dozen times.

  “I’m not sure he’s slept since the funeral,” Spook said to Ash. “Go and watch him. We need Graham for the tour, and in the mood Xane’s in, he’ll probably fire him.”

  “I think I’ll see if I can take him to a hotel and tuck him in. Catch you later. And Spook, don’t go having fun while I’m not around.”

  “Given that you’re the lord of fun, how could that even be possible?”

  Ash blew them kisses before gently pulling the door to.

  -3-

  Alle was tense as hell and seething over Xane’s remarks. She knew how to do her job, thank you very much. She’d graduated university with a first class honours degree, and while Within You, the track she’d been hired to work on, wasn’t among her favourite Black Halo songs, she’d heard it dozens upon dozens of times. And that was saying something, since it made for darned uncomfortable listening.

  Graham Callahan was absolutely right in that it did need softening. The current version left the listener clinging to the nearest object for support. Applying a few limiters would deal with that, but it would need a whole lot more sweetening to make it palatable to a broader audience.

  “Sorry about him. Steve’s death has hit him badly. I’m sure you’re very good at your job.”

  Alle turned in time to see Spook put his familiar purple Washburn guitar aside on the tub sofa. A little thrill ran through her veins over the realisation that he’d been the one who stayed. Not that she believed in prophecy, but surely that was a sign.

  Attempting to tear her gaze off him, totally drained her will power as he moved across the room. The guy was graceful and light on his feet, and her attention totally zoomed in on the way his soft leather jeans rode against his thighs as he walked.

  “Yeah, I’m sorry for your loss,” she mumbled, feeling hampered by a suddenly oversized tongue. “It must be difficult for you all.”

  She’d seen their drummer’s death mentioned on the news, but she hadn’t really considered the impact it would have on them as individuals. It had to be akin to losing a family member. Spook had a few dark shadows around his eyes that hinted at his own grief.

  “Thanks. Having something to focus on helps. Shall we?” He grabbed the chair Xane had vacated and skated it back to the console. An instant jolt of pleasure tickled her nerve-endings from having him sit so close by. He smelled faintly of leather and some sort of woodsy cologne. His white-blond hair settled like a sheet around his shoulders. Unlike his band mates, he wasn’t head to foot in black. Beneath his jacket, his T-shirt was burnt red.

  “I’m sorry for gushing before. I hope it wasn’t embarrassing. It is a huge thrill to get to work with you.”

  The corners of his lips edged upwards. “It’s OK, it was kind of nice. Mostly it’s Xane and Ash that get that sort of attention.”

  She didn’t know why. Spook was better looking than both of them and far more talented. Sure, Xane could sing and Ash wasn’t a bad guitarist, but Spook was an absolute master. The sounds he coaxed out of that instrument were incredible.

  “OK. Let’s get started, shall we?” She opened up the software program and located the original digital master file.

  “Been in the job long?” Spook asked as he swivelled the chair back and forth on the spot.

  “A while. I’ve spent most of my time here working on classical recordings. It’s only recently they’ve let me work on some rock albums. I’m hoping the fact I’ve been given this will mean I get to work on a few more.”

  “Let’s hope so.”

  “Why choose this track for re-release?” she asked as she started working with the compressors along with the graphical equalizer to lift certain sections and sweeten others. “It’s not one of your best. It’s not even the best off that album.”

  “It’s a masterpiece,” he replied, frowning at her apparent lack of appreciation. “It’s by far the best song of that album. Torn Into is the only other real possibility, but it’s too well known and too personal. They’re kind of sister tracks, anyway.”

  Torn Into was, hands down, one of the most awesome songs ever written.

  “How’s this?” she asked, playing him a section of the manipulated track.

  “It sounds flat.”

  “Oh!” To her it sounded more melodic, and she no longer felt the need to wince as Xane’s voice reached for the high notes. “Well, I’m not finished yet. We’ve barely started.” She hoped she could please him in addition to Graham Callahan, even if satisfying Xane was likely unattainable.

  “You know it needs those spikes you’re shaving off it.”

  “What? They make it too unsettling.”

  “It’s supposed to be.” He took off his leather jacket and hung it over the back of his chair.

  Oh, man! Alle’s heart started a strange pitter-patter, and migrated upwards into her throat. If she thought having him sit next to her was distracting before, sans jacket was a whole other plane’s worth of distraction. The neckline of his shirt was ripped, and the sleeves had been torn out, leaving his upper arms uncovered. A winged lady was tattooed across his nearest bicep.

  Ink on a man was one of her weaknesses. She loved tracing the lines, particularly where the design had ever so slightly raised the area of skin.

  “Why would you want to unsettle your audience?” she asked, while attempting to drag her attention off his body and back to the console.

  “Why wouldn’t we? Have you been to one of our shows?”

  “Several,” she muttered distractedly. She knew perfectly well they liked to put on a fantastical horror show, and that black leather, whips and chains were standard accoutrements. But the feelings Within You evoked didn’t fall into the same category of disturbing as their stage show. It scoured the senses and left the listener feeling so emotionally raw that it was near impossible to breath.

  Or maybe that was just the effect of having Spook sit next to her. He left her on edge, because she wasn’t sure how long she could resist touching him.

  Anyway, the record buying public were never going to lap up the song, unless she tempered it somehow and made it less torturous.

  Alle made some more adjustments, allowing for a few little spikes, but still modulating them in terms of the overall balance. Spook watched, studying her expression as well as every alteration she made.

  “Who’s the woman on your arm?” she asked after a few minutes, in order to have an excuse to look at him again.

  Spook stroked a hand across the design. “Göndul. One of the Valkyries. I don’t know if you know much about Scandinavian mythology.”

  “Not really. Only a little bit from a few films. Thor’s Norse, isn’t he?”

  “Yeah,” he nodded. “You’re a fan of whatsit, are you?”

  Alle shook her head. “He’s a bit too beefy for my tastes. I prefer…you know, never mind.” She covered her face, realising she was probably turning rosy. “Do you have any other tattoos?”

&nb
sp; Spook’s gaze never left her face. “Hugin and Munir on my back.”

  “Are they other Valkyries?”

  “Odin’s ravens.” He grinned showing her a flash of teeth. “Here.” He presented her with his back and lifted his shirt to show her.

  “Um,” she reached out and helped lift his long hair aside so that she could see the design. It covered the whole of one shoulder blade.

  Alle swallowed slowly as her fingers unintentionally brushed against his skin. If he had any inkling how much she wanted to lean forward and explore the contours of his body with her lips right now, he definitely wouldn’t be flashing her bits of it.

  Her head felt light and her insides heavy as she reigned in the urge to gently press a kiss to the back of his neck, right above where a silver chain rested against his pale skin.

  It wasn’t fair that he was here, so close, and that she couldn’t have him. This was probably her one and only chance to live out her fantasy of being with him. In some ways, he wasn’t at all as she’d imagined. He was much quieter, and far more soft-spoken, but in other ways, he remained everything she wanted. He wasn’t a follower. He hadn’t trotted off like a good boy after Xane. And there was steel in his body, and behind his words. He knew his own mind. She only wished he was aware of hers too.

  Maybe if she told him. Maybe if she leaned in and made the first move things would magically work out.

  Except what would she say? I really want you to smack my ass?

  In all likelihood he’d be appalled, in much the same way her former lovers had been.

  Oh, some of them had attempted to understand, and had even agreed to spank her, but ultimately they all chickened out. One moan after their hands fell upon her flesh and they were muttering strings of apologies and convinced they were barbarians. No amount of reassurance ever convinced them to chastise her as she really desired.

  She wanted to see her bottom reddened and made tender to the touch. Longed to reach that place where the lines between pleasure and pain blurred and genuine bliss was within reach of her fingertips.

  Thinking about the possible means by which he could take her there, made her pussy throb. Instantly, her nipples were punching against her clothing and there were butterflies in her stomach.

  Alle wetted her lips and made a deliberate effort to steady her breath as Spook lowered his shirt. He swivelled the chair around so the he was facing her again. Damn, she didn’t think she’d ever met a guy so goddamned pretty. He could put one of Tolkien’s elves to shame with his cheekbones. And his eyes. They were so blue she could almost dive into them and become lost in their depths.

  Heat further infused her cheeks as she realised she’d been staring at him with her mouth hanging open. She wasn’t behaving at all professionally. “W-what’s the pendant?” she asked, seizing on its presence as cover for her interest. The silver icon resembled a circle with two curled flourishes at the bottom.

  “This?” Spook captured the silver metal between his forefinger and thumb. “It’s a troll cross. It protects me against trolls.”

  “If it works on the internet variety, I think I could use one of those.”

  “Have this one.” Spook took the pendant from around his neck and looped it over her head. The charm settled against the top of her breasts, the metal warm from his body heat.

  “Oh, that’s…You didn’t have to…What I mean is…Thank you.”

  Oh God, she had to do this. She had to. Life was about risks, and this one might cost her job, but…

  Taking a bold step, she smacked a kiss against his lips.

  Initially, he didn’t exactly respond as she’d hoped, but she refused to be put off. This was her one chance. She tickled her tongue against his lips and he made a strange croaking noise deep in his throat.

  Next moment, he was on his feet, out of the chair and halfway across the room raking his agile fingers through his long hair. “What the…” He paced. Turned back towards her, stared wild eyed and…God, was he really furious?

  Spook closed in. He grabbed hold of her hand and tugged her out of the chair. “You shouldn’t have done that. I was controlling it…”

  “I only meant to say thank you.”

  “That was no thank you.” He pulled her into his arms so that his solid body was plastered tight against hers, and she could feel his heart pounding within his chest. His lips met hers again, his need suddenly ferocious, as if he had to drink her down right then and there.

  Oh, hell, yes! She responded, holding on to him tightly, and meeting his open mouthed kisses, boldly, as if they were lovers and not virtual strangers. Take whatever you need.

  -4-

  This was not what he did. Spook prided himself on having more control than this. A lot more control. He did not respond when ladies grabbed him. He did not sport instant wood because a woman was interested in him. He left the sexy stuff to Xane and Ash, who were more than happy to entertain pretty much any woman who hinted she was willing. Hell, between them, they’d shagged nearly every woman he’d met, with the exception of the two percent he was related to. Friends or not, he’d break their damn arms if he learned they’d tried anything on with his family.

  “Um.” He inched back a little, attempting to put some space between himself and Alle again, but she moved with him. Her small hands clasped tight to the front of his shirt, and somehow, he couldn’t quite wean himself off the taste of her lips. Instead of putting a stop to this before she got ideas about where it might be headed, he began a slow, glorious exploration of every part of her mouth.

  Where it was headed, was very definitely hubba-hubba land.

  Damn, she tasted good, like honeyed wine. Spook’s entire body was thrumming with need. Yet he knew this was a mistake. It wouldn’t work. One time hook ups rotted your soul. He’d seen what they’d done to Xane, and there was no way she’d stick around any longer. The minute she discovered the sort of things he enjoyed, she’d be off, appalled, because he only ever attracted the nice girls. The women who thought he was sweet, because he was quiet. They overlooked the fact he had Viking blood.

  What he actually enjoyed was taking pictures of things other people found taboo. That meant involving rope and leather, and handprints—especially those—and sometimes cages and cock-restraints, though he far preferred to photograph women over his own genitals. Especially, women like Alle, who so resembled the shield-maidens with curvy figures and strong limbs he had inked onto his body.

  Still, when she grabbed his butt, he knew it was time to stop this. He might love the feel of her fingers digging into his skin, but he couldn’t see her playfully posing for him, or wiggling her behind at him as an invitation to smack it.

  Scratch that. He could see it perfectly, but only because his imagination was far too fertile.

  “Enough…thank…yous.” He extracted his shirt from her grip, and her hand from his back pocket. “Let’s concentrate on the track. We need something good by the time Xane comes back.”

  Not that he actually expected Xane to return. The reality was that he’d probably be burning a disc or saving the result onto a thumb drive and playing it to the band at their hotel.

  “Right. Sorry.” She blinked at him, her eyes swimming with hurt. He didn’t like seeming to be a prick about it, but it was pointless pretending this magnetism between them would genuinely lead anywhere.

  Alle settled back into her chair, facing the monitor.

  Fuck! Spook dug his fingers into his eye sockets. It didn’t help that he still had a raging hard-on, and that was playing havoc with his thoughts. No wonder Xane and Ash stumbled about as if they were incapable of rational thought. The lack of blood flow to their brains effectively had them functioning on half capacity.

  He needed to get out of here. Put some distance between them and calm the fuck down before he did something silly. Maybe he could go and dunk his head in a sink of iced water or something. That ought to cool him off.

  “I’m going to grab coffee,” he muttered, even tho
ugh he hardly ever drank the stuff. His beverage of choice was green tea. “I’ll get you one.”

  “I’m fine,” she muttered. “I don’t need anything.”

  He had enough sisters to know that meant she was the exact opposite of fine, and he’d better bloody well get her something because he’d been a prick and if he ever wanted her to speak to him again, he’d explain what the hell was going on inside his damn head.

  The problem with that, was he didn’t exactly have any answers.

  He wanted her. But the chances she’d still want him after he’d explained a few things were incredibly slim.

  Then again, maybe he just needed to present the evidence and see what happened.

  If she didn’t like what she heard, that’d be the end of it. He’d walk away, so there’d be no chance of muddying things further.

  And what if she still wants you? He wondered. What then? Was he really about to entangle himself in a relationship? What was to say it wouldn’t play out the same way as the last one he’d had? He might not walk away quite so unscathed the next time.

  Spook glanced down at the silvery scars that ran along the lengths of his forearms. The lines were faint now, not the garish red they’d once been, but they remained a vivid reminder of exactly how bad things could get.

  He wasn’t sure he was ready to take a chance on another relationship yet. But then again, he could see Alle’s reflection in the monitor, and he didn’t know how he could walk away and forget her either.

  -5-

  Alle didn’t get it. She absolutely did not understand. He’d kissed her, and she’d felt the heat in him. He was still busting his fly now, not that she was stealing sneaky glances or anything. For a moment there, she’d actually believed he was going to fulfil her wildest dreams, but then he’d backed off as if she’d scalded him, and was still pacing uneasily.