Reprise (Ruby Riot #3) Read online

  Reprise

  Lisa Swallow

  Contents

  Copyright

  About

  Dedication

  Definition

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Coming Soon

  The Ruby Riot Series

  The Blue Phoenix Series

  Other Books by Lisa Swallow

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2016 Lisa Swallow

  Cover designed by Najla Qamber Designs

  Photography: K Keeton Designs

  Models: Faith Danielle and Sager Dolson

  Editing by Hot Tree Editing

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  Reprise (Ruby Riot #3)

  Drummer Nate Campbell is a ‘Ruby Riot twin’ and that’s all he wants anybody to know. For Nate, girls are a dispensable distraction and the rock star life suits his needs. Nobody will expect him to hand over his heart if he pretends he doesn’t have a one.

  Falling for Nate Campbell was the second biggest mistake of Riley Sawyer’s life. When the PR girl worked with the band on a European tour, she earned a reputation as an unapproachable workaholic. One mistake with Nate ruined her reputation, and Riley left vowing never to go anywhere near a tour – or Nate – again.

  Two years later, Riley is forced back into the Ruby Riot world. A stolen car, a snowstorm, and Nate’s bloody-mindedness leave the pair stranded together. Nate and Riley cross their thin line between love and hate and discover a connection they don’t want to leave behind when the snow retreats.

  Nate knows Riley’s the girl for him but doesn’t want to risk handing her the heart he hides. Riley wants to leave behind her secrets to move on and find love. The problem is, she wants Nate and doesn’t think he can ever be hers – or anybody’s.

  Dedication

  For those at THC who left me alone to write, thank you.

  And sorry about the groups.

  reprise |rɪˈpriːz|

  noun

  a repeated passage in music.

  • a repetition or further performance of something: a stale reprise of past polemic.

  verb [ with obj. ]

  repeat (a piece of music or a performance). he reprises his role as the vigilante architect.

  1

  RILEY

  I don’t spend time around Ruby Riot anymore. Ever. Sarah has the pleasure of touring Europe with the band this winter, because there’s no way in hell I’ll travel with that bunch of narcissists again. Or so I thought until today, when my supposedly reliable account manager walked out two dates before the end of the tour — no explanation. Judging by the chaos Sarah left behind, she hasn’t been doing her job properly for weeks.

  This leaves me to deal with all the crap hitting the fan, and I’m forced to head up to Newcastle to take over publicity management for the last two shows. I don’t know what pisses me off the most — spending time away from London, or the famous Ruby Riot attitude I’ll face when I get there. Especially from Nate. After two years of avoiding the band, I’m thrown in the deep end and I’m determined to stay afloat.

  Traffic clogs the motorways as I head North, and I swear as another idiot ignores the foggy traffic conditions and swerves across two lanes. By the time I arrive at the hotel, I’m two hours late due to the weather, and my nerves are frazzled. Ruby Riot plays their first of two dates at the Arena this evening; they won’t be back until late, and I’m too tired to deal with anything tonight. The crew has muddled through without publicity management for a couple of days; a few more hours with the junior PR girl won’t make a difference.

  Beneath my decision to avoid the band tonight lies the real reason. When I first see Nate again, I need to be in a coping mood, and he needs to be sober.

  As if that’s likely to ever happen.

  Nate Campbell. Ruby Riot drummer and asshole of the decade. I toured with Ruby Riot when they supported Blue Phoenix two years ago and tangled myself with Nate. Not cool. Totally unprofessional behaviour for a PR girl trying to make a name for herself. I made a name all right just not the sort I wanted. When you’re spotted leaving the bathrooms with a rock star adjusting his clothes, people jump to the obvious conclusion. Me? No. I did not have sex with the guy, but I almost did.

  And when I turned him down? Within an hour of telling me how I meant more to him than other girls, Nate found a new one; one who’d fall for his bullshit.

  I refused to speak to him for a week; the hurt and anger eating away at any feelings I had for him. I told him I couldn’t respect a guy who treated women like shit and he shrugged it off with a ‘whatever’ attitude. I don’t even think he paid proper attention to what I was saying.

  The memories I’ve kept dampened down seethe and I mutter under my breath the choice words I keep for Nate.

  Everybody who was on the tour thinks the situation is cut and dry: dumb PR girl screws rock star who rejects her and she reacts badly. The jerk never put people straight about the non-sex; too big a dent to his ego, I guess. If I’d made a fuss about denying we had sex, I’m sure some people would’ve taken it as extra evidence that I in fact did.

  The only words we’ve exchanged since that night in Paris, in the bathrooms at Hard Rock Café, have been nasty and hurtful. The strength of our hostility is above and beyond how normal people would behave after a failed hook-up. But the situation was more than that. We were more than that — or Nate fooled me into thinking I was and pulled the rug away until I landed heavily on my ass.

  If I’d allowed myself to see what a spoiled, selfish asshole he was from day one this would never have happened. This was a game to him. I was a joke. Our friendly relationship descended into outright nastiness and, after a couple of weeks, I left. I refuse to work with people who treat me like crap.

  Now, I’m able to step back into the Ruby Riot world and do my job; I don’t care what Nate thinks. In two days time I can walk away, and hope it’s another two years until we’re forced to spend anytime near each other.

  Does Nate know yet? I bet he’s as thrilled at the prospect as I am.

  I shake away my brooding on Nate and my situation,
and reach for my phone. There’s another person who hates me being in Newcastle as much as I do. Josh. Mum agreed to stay and look after my son at short notice, but she always has.

  I said goodbye to Josh this morning before he headed to school; my heart aching at the hurt on his face. In Josh’s five years, I’ve left him too many times while I worked away. Blinkered by my need to succeed and determined to make the best life I could, I’ve made mistakes. Last time this happened, I promised him I wouldn’t stay away for more than a night. I’ve broken that promise again.

  2

  RILEY

  Following a bad night in an uncomfortable hotel bed, I’m wake at 6 a.m. exhausted. It doesn’t help that the moment I woke up my stomach churned at the thought of meeting Nate again. Despite my bravado, I’m worried he’ll attempt to humiliate me again.

  The anxiety doesn’t leave as I stand in front of the mirror and check my clothes. I chose to bring my newest work clothes: a tailored, dove-grey dress, knee length, and pulled in at the waist, with a matching short jacket. I paint away the dark circles beneath my brown eyes and set about highlighting and blending my make–up. Today I look my best, no hint of anything but Riley Sawyer, SMC PR Account Manager. Poised, confident, and professional to a fault. Not the girl who fell for Nate’s crap and ended up with her heart a mess.

  I’ve been on the edge of Ruby Riot’s world since the European tour and, since that disaster, I’ve avoided them as much as possible. I work on their account still but at a safe distance. I ensure I have other client meetings out of the office on the rare occasions the band visit. This has been commented on, but I don’t care. Isn’t part of being a manager passing responsibilities onto junior staff?

  The only time I’ve seen Nate since the tour was a year ago, when the band was called in to run through a photo-shoot they’d taken part in.

  Nate didn’t see me that day, but his appearance arrested me and a wave of confused emotions crashed against my walls. I hated him. I wanted him, but I hated him. His swagger as he passed along the hallway near the kitchen I hid in was greater than last time; his increased fame apparent in his stance. He wore new tattoos on his arm, his powerful shoulders visible beneath his tight tee. I stepped out of sight as he passed the door, glimpsing his profile. Eyebrow still pierced, cheekbones further defined by his sullen look many mistake for smoulder.

  That was a year ago; a fleeting glimpse and enough to pull Nate back into my dreams for a few days.

  Today, I’ll look him in the eyes for the first time since the Blue Phoenix tour and ensure mine are as unreadable as they were the day we walked away from each other.

  I meet with Melissa, the merchandise coordinator, who stepped in until I could travel up here. I asked her to liaise with the list of people I gave her.

  She didn’t, leaving me to straighten out absolutely everything Sarah left behind.

  Out of ten, my stress levels immediately skip from one to five.

  Then I discover the film crew never showed last night and the recording for the concert DVD didn’t happen. My stress levels climb close to ten before the morning has started properly — not what I need.

  Ah, the joys of touring. When I worked on the Blue Phoenix Euro tour, my manager Tina’s constant dramas annoyed me. After less than a day here as manager myself, I understand why. Aside from Melissa, I’ve taken part in one meeting with lead singer, Ruby, and guitarist Jax, and it’s apparent their cooperation skills haven’t improved.

  The Campbell twins weren’t at that meeting, and I’ve heard their attitude is unchanged too. After that eventful tour, I backed off any possibility of spending time on the road with any band again. I’m not staying in this bloody hotel a minute longer than I need to.

  Deep breath. Find a coffee. A good, strong coffee. I’m assured the hotel barista makes a good mochaccino, but Melissa’s definition of good coffee is lower than mine. Still, a decent slice of cake will help sweeten the blow if the coffee is bad, and there’s an impressive selection.

  I sit in the hotel café, practicing my mind-calming skills. I know I stress too much, and that I take on more than I can handle, but this is my life right now. I can’t imagine stopping. In the last three years, I’ve travelled overseas on holiday once; any time off I allow myself is spent at my home in Barnet.

  So yeah, I know my uptight reputation and I own it. Arms’ length is as close as I want people.

  Short of time, I devour the chocolate cake, happy the coffee is half-decent. A text arrives, asking why I’m late, and I wipe my fingers before answering.

  Each minute that passes, I’m putting off the inevitable.

  And as I head towards the lobby, the inevitable appears.

  I didn’t mean to but, unprepared, I stop in my tracks. Nate Campbell strides across the tiled floor in my direction. Dressed in dark denim and Converse, greying T-shirt stretched across his chest, he hasn’t changed. The twins are different these days; bass player Will wears his hair longer so there’s no doubt this twin with short, spiked hair is Nate.

  I’m convinced Nate’s about to blank me and walk past but he stops too. His green eyes fix on mine with disinterest. I’m wrong; he has changed. His eyes are creased by tiredness, his skin paler, but this doesn’t detract from the deceptive attractiveness of his perfect features. I cannot believe I kissed that mouth; allowed those hands on my body. But there’s nothing attractive behind his lucky genetics, unless Nate’s changed on the inside too. From what I’ve heard, he hasn’t.

  “Riley,” he says in greeting.

  “Hello, Nate.”

  “I heard you were coming. How long you staying?”

  “A couple of days.”

  “Not long, then.”

  “Too long.”

  Nate stares at my mouth, then flicks his gaze back to my eyes. His mouth tips at one corner and I hold my breath. It may be two years since, but I’ve seen that look on Nate’s face before. Amusement.

  “You haven’t changed,” he says.

  “Neither have you, much.”

  “Yeah?”

  I wave a hand at him. “You look the same.”

  “That isn’t what I meant. Your attitude.” Nate crosses his arms. “But yeah, you’re skinnier and your hair’s blonder. I preferred it brown.”

  I bristle at the fact he checked me out. “Your attitude remains the same too, then.”

  I swore I’d avoid this, but already the animosity slips in.

  “Still get your knickers in a twist over everything?”

  “What?”

  “Just a question. I heard you lost your shit with Melissa a couple of hours ago.” He smirks. “Smiley Riley’s back in town.”

  “Jesus, Nate. Two minutes and you’ve already started this. Don’t you think we should forget what happened and be professional?”

  Two years.

  Two years to say the words that needed saying back then. How we should’ve left things. Professional.

  “About what happened? You still dwelling on that?” Nate shakes his head. “Ancient history, Riley.”

  “Okay.” I put my phone in my bag. “Call this the line in the sand. I’ll ignore what happened in the past if you do. A couple of days here and I’m gone, and we don’t have to see each other again. We can be civil for that long.”

  Nate rubs his index finger along his lips, staring at my mouth again. “How about we just keep out of each other’s way?”

  “Sounds like a great idea.”

  “If you can, of course.”

  I laugh, a short derisive sound. “Seriously?”

  Nate steps closer and that tiny change in proximity floods back the frustrating physical effect the man I hate has on me. I tuck my hands beneath my arms, goose bumps rising along my neck. Has the absence made this worse? Sometimes I have stupid dreams about Nate that involve far too much intimacy and wake up disgusted with myself. Why the hell can’t I control my subconscious?

  Nate raises a hand to my face and I’m too stunned to react before he
touches the corner of my mouth. “Riley,” he whispers, moving his face closer to mine. “There’s something you need to know.”

  I blink as the sensation of his fingertip sends a tiny shock across my mouth and I part my lips. “What?”

  Instead of darkened eyes to match my thumping heart, the amusement remains on his face. Nate holds his index finger up. “You have chocolate around your mouth.”

  I step back and narrow my eyes at him.

  He grins and wipes his hand on his jeans. “Gotcha.”

  “Asshole!”

  “You’re not over me, are you?”

  Before I get a chance to tell Nate exactly what I think of him, he moves past me. “Two years, Riley!” Nate calls as he walks away. “Get a grip!”

  I glance around, relieved nobody saw our encounter, then rush to the nearest ladies’ room. Fury is replaced by horror. Chocolate is smeared around the edges of my mouth, in a way any five-year-old would be proud of. My professional image ruined by a slice of bloody cake. With shaking hands, I wipe the mess away with a paper towel.

  Damn you, Nate Campbell.

  3

  NATE

  I don’t know what she expects of me, but she should know I don’t have anything to give her outside of the bedroom.

  She? Sophia Lambert, model, face of some expensive make-up brand and perfume. Which? No idea. I’ve never paid attention to what she does. Great catch, but I’m already thinking of throwing her back in the water. We’ve been together a month, Sophia joined us on tour when we were in Italy. Sweet girl, starves herself, and spends an inordinate amount of time in front of the mirror but looks fucking hot naked.