Rock God (Hearts of Metal Book 3) by Brooklyn Ann Page B

items away. When he got to the underwear, he shook his head and remembered standing in the intimate apparel section of the department store, stupefied at the selection. If he got her thongs, would she think he was lusting after her? If he got “granny panties,” would she be repulsed? Thankfully, the sales girl had saved him from his ignorance. And he was quite proud of his fire story!
    Once everything was put away, he went downstairs and warned Shayna that it was almost time for dinner, holding back a laugh as he watched how fast she signed off. She was clearly hungry.
    “I need to shower and change into my new clothes,” she said quickly. “Then I’ll be right down.”
    “You took a bath yesterday,” he pointed out. “You need to stay off your feet. Besides, dinner’s not a formal affair. You don’t need to stand on ceremony. Especially since I’ve already seen you in what you’re wearing now. Really, you look fine.”
    Shayna wrinkled her nose in disgust. “As much as I appreciate you loaning me your clothes—and again, thank you—I look like a little kid playing dress-up.”
    Actually, he thought she looked rather adorable.
    She blushed and added, “And I’d really like to put on some underwear.”
    She wasn’t wearing panties…? The thought was all too enticing.
    “Fine,” he said, and his voice came out husky as he imagined her naked in that marble tub. “But please, go easy on yourself.”
    His lust died when she got to her feet and shambled out of the office, her face contorted with pain. His fists clenched with resolve. He would make her put her feet up for the rest of the evening no matter what she said.
    She made it back downstairs right as Rosa set dinner on the table.
    “That smells heavenly,” she said, making Rosa beam.
    Despite her pronouncement, Shayna then picked at the food, darting nervous glances at him between bites. Dante was finally forced to ask, “What’s wrong? Are you mad at me for throwing away your old clothes, or hovering over you when you were checking your emails? Or are you still hung up over my celebrity status?” He frowned, suddenly worried that it was the latter. He’d so enjoyed her talking to him like he was a regular person.
    To his dismay, she nodded. “A little. I’m not used to being waited upon, though Rosa is wonderful. I always did the cooking and cleaning.”
    “Well, lots of people have housekeepers,” he pointed out. “And you shouldn’t be nervous around me. You don’t exactly look like you listen to heavy metal music. Hell, you didn’t even recognize me!”
    Her eyes narrowed. “I recognized your voice outside of the concert last night. And I did listen to metal in high school. The only reason I stopped was because my husband didn’t like it.”
    “Did you always go with his whims?” Dante asked, unable to stop himself. The more he learned about her marriage, the more his stomach churned with disgust at her jerk husband—and the more he longed to comfort her.
    “I was trying to be a good wife. Besides,” she added defensively, “I listened to what I wanted when he wasn’t home, including some metal stations.”
    For some reason the thought of her listening to his music made a warm tremor rush up Dante’s spine. He shook off the odd sensation and changed the subject.
    “Your new clothes seem to fit.” It was a lame attempt at a new topic, but it was the best he could do at the moment. At least she didn’t seem so nervous anymore.
    “They do. Thank you again.”
    Her cheeks pinkened and Dante couldn’t help admiring how much better she looked after a night’s rest and new clothes. More than just better , he thought, studying her shoulder-length dark brown hair, elfin features, and the way her blue knit top clung to her breasts. A tremor of alarm crept up his spine at the growing warmth in his stomach. He would have to be careful. It really wouldn’t do to be too attracted when he was supposed to be helping her, as that would