A Little Night Music by Andrea Dale, Sarah Husch Page A

when he was performing. Those captured a depth of passion that these maneuvered shots lacked. Still, she knew Gina was capable of coaxing even the most reluctant people into relaxing in front of the lens.
    There was no denying that Nate looked sexy as the wind blew the neck of his shirt open, revealing the line of his collarbone, the edge of his neck. The way he leaned back against the railing pulled the soft denim of his black jeans tight over his thighs. Her hands clenched in the pockets of her jacket when she remembered the feel of those muscles beneath her palms.
    Lord, but just looking at him made her horny.
    “Finest ass in the business,” a deep voice rumbled next to her.
    “Oh yeah,” Hannah replied wholeheartedly. She looked up at Andre, seeing herself reflected in his sunglasses.
    “Oh, girl,” Andre said. “It’s a good thing I’m not the jealous type.”
    She sighed. “Is it that obvious?”
    “To someone with incredible observational skills such as myself, absolutely.” He nodded in Nate’s direction. “Just look at him.”
    Nate had turned his head towards her, and even though he wore sunglasses, she felt pinned in his gaze, making her the only other person on the crowded boardwalk. When he took off the glasses, the look he gave her was intense, hungry.
    Her stomach fluttered. Just as Nate made her feel like the only person around, now she had eyes only for him.
    What did she want, really? For much of her life, she’d had two main goals: be successful at her job, and have her night of passion with the man making eyes at her over there.
    Now she’d achieved both, and already the two were in conflict.
    But it wouldn’t last, she was sure of that. Despite their attraction and their passion last night (okay, and this morning, she acknowledged, unable to fight back a satisfied smile), she and Nate didn’t have a future personally. He was bright lights and glamour, starlets and parties. She was behind the scenes, normal and maybe even a little boring. She wasn’t his type, and that was fine.
    She sighed. She didn’t want a long-term relationship with him, but if she could do a kick-ass job as his publicist while continuing to enjoy his bed, why not? It was worth a try, at least.
    Gina finished her shots, and Hannah crossed over to Nate.
    This was professional time, she reminded herself, even as she smelled his shampoo and felt a flare of desire streak through her belly. It was all about balance.
    “Like I said, let’s give the press a few minutes,” she said. “A couple of sound bites, quotable stuff. I’ll set up longer interviews later.”
    He nodded. “You’re the boss.”
    Well, that made for some interesting—and very nonprofessional—mental images. Nate spread-eagled on the bed, muscles taut as he tested the strength of the leather straps that bound him…
    Stop it. Just stop it.
    The media shouted questions, microphones and mini-recorders held his way. Nate picked and chose the questions he answered, and Hannah stood ready nearby to step in if she was needed. She wasn’t. His responses were quick, deft, and constantly turned the topic back to his newest album and upcoming tour. He was good at this.
    More than one reporter asked about his drug habit, and the accident that had put him in rehab. When the questions slowed, Hannah moved forward, thanking them all for coming. She passed out her cards, assuring them that she would be available later to answer further questions about Nate’s future plans.
    The interviews finished, Nate turned to the fans. They’d been polite and patient while he did his work, but they’d fairly vibrated with contained excitement the entire time. Hannah separated herself from the microphones with a final wave, and moved to watch Nate sign autographs.
    “Hey, Helen, good to see you,” Nate said to a curvaceous woman with curly, dark red hair.
    Hannah blinked. He knew their names? Were these women he’d been intimate with?
    She missed whatever the fan