Turbulent Sea by Christine Feehan Read Free Book Online

saint is really a sinner. Sheesh, Brian, you've known me for years."
    "You don't sleep around."
    "How do you know what I do or don't do while you're at the parties having a great time?"
    "I don't believe any of this. You're just upset."
    "You don't believe I can get lonely, Brian?"
    "Hell, Joley, if you're lonely, I'm lonely, too. Maybe we should just make all the rumors true and hit the sack together." He wiggled his eyebrows at her.
    She studied him over the bottle of water. For one, horrible moment, she even considered the idea. They were both alone. They liked each other, were best friends, maybe if they got to together… Prakenskii had turned her down and her pride was wounded. She'd always been able to wrap Brian around her little finger. And he was nice. A very nice guy, but she wasn't the least attracted to him, nor was he attracted to her. She sighed. "I like you too much," she said.
    "What the hell does that mean?"
    "It means I'm not going to sleep with you and ruin a perfectly good relationship. I like you, Brian. I don't like the men I want to sleep with."
    "Okay, now I'm confused, but that isn't unusual around you, Joley." He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Most of the time we're all confused."
    "Me, too." She grinned at him. "At least we can agree on that."
    He smiled back at her. "We've got to catch a plane first thing in the morning and catch up with our bus. Are you going to sleep tonight?"
    "You go ahead. I was in the middle of composing."
    "You were in the middle of trying to run yourself into the ground. Did seeing Denny really upset you that much, Joley?"
    "That and a lot of other things. I'm tired of this life, Brian. I want a home and a family."
    "You love performing."
    She shrugged. "Maybe I do. I love music. I lose myself in it. But in the end, no matter how good things are, I don't have anyone to share my life with me. Maybe that's why I get so upset with Denny. He's had wonderful people to share happiness with, women who love him for who he is, not what he does, and he throws it away for a few minutes of pleasure. How many chances should he have before none of it's real anymore? Until every woman who goes near him wants him just because he's in a band and not because she loves him? And then we stop playing and he grows old and he's all alone. I guess he can look back and say he counted a few thousand blow jobs and that will comfort him in his old age."
    "You're just down tonight."
    She drank more water and nodded, agreeing with him because it was what he wanted. "Yep, that's what it is."
    He studied her face. "You really aren't thinking about quitting, are you? We're on top. Every song we release is a number one hit. No one does that. No one. Every concert is sold out. Our albums are double, triple platinum. Come on, Joley, tell me you're just having a bad night and you're not serious."
    "Does it matter what I say?" She pushed past him toward the door.
    He caught her shoulder and stopped her. "Of course it matters. You always matter. I hate that you're unhappy. I'll talk to Denny."
    "He can't change who he is. But I'm not lying to Lisa for him. I'd never want you to lie to me if my boyfriend was screwing around on me, and I won't do it for or to any of you."
    "That's fair enough," Brian said. "It was one party, Joley, one that got a little out of hand. Nikitin's parties are notorious for excess, but we don't usually stay long. We make an appearance, have a few drinks and leave."
    "He supplies women." She made it a statement.
    "He has women on the guest list; most hosts of parties do."
    "You know what I'm saying. I know what he is, what his reputation is. He's seducing the band, don't you see that? Supply drugs and alcohol and women. Take a few blackmail pictures and hook the boys on the high and he's got you all under his thumb. That's how he operates."
    "Nikitin throws some killer parties, Joley, which is why everyone goes when he invites us, but he's not offering anything we can't get anywhere