Star Struck

Fanning the Flame-Part 3

Chapter 3

Cool water—exactly what I needed.

Eve took a deep sip, then recapped the bottle. Her throat was dry after interviewing one of the waiters. She winced, fidgeting on her feet.

Damn, these shoes truly are killing me...

"Well, well. There you are. We need to have a little conversation, sweetheart."

Gray's firm hand encased her arm as he swiftly steered her away from the crowd toward the nearby restroom hallway. Met with Gray's brooding, serious glare, Eve sighed loudly, rolling her eyes at him.

"What exactly is your problem tonight, Mr. Daymon?"

What on earth does he want now? To poke more fun at the reporter covering the awards show? If this was the kind of pestering celebrities had to put up with all the time, I'm starting to feel sorry for them.

Without speaking, he directed her inside the dimly lit hallway, where the loud pop music pouring from venue's speakers was less intense.

Gray glared wordlessly at her. Eve's temper simmered.

"Mr. Daymon..." Impatient, she started to repeat her question.

"Gray."

"What?"

"Gray. Call me Gray, Ms. Brock. Or may I call you Eve?"

He knows who I am?

"Look, Mister Daymon..." She purposely exaggerated his name and the courtesy title. "I don't know what's got your boxers in a twist this evening, but would you mind letting go of the iron grip you have on my elbow?" He glanced down at his hand and reluctantly let go. However, the scowl stayed put.

"Thank you."

After another sip of her bottled water, she took a defensive stance, folding her arms across her chest.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure of being dragged into the bathroom hallway by you? Shouldn't you be off partying and celebrating your big win tonight instead of harassing a little ole reporter who isn't the least bit interested in talking to you?"

If the guy glared any harder, he'd combust. For the life of her, she couldn't figure out why he'd be pissed at her. It wasn't like she'd sought him out.

When he finally spoke, the words practically erupted from his taut mouth. "You didn't want to talk to me, but had no problem recording our conversation for whatever crap you planned to write? Did you have an even bigger problem with your lapse of memory when it came to letting me know who you were before you pushed play on that recorder?"

He gripped her hand holding the small device and held it up to her face.

Gray stepped closer, pinning her against the wall. Her mouth gaped open. There was something else in those eyes which made the whole encounter so heated, but she couldn't identify it. It wasn't necessarily anger, either.

"I beg your pardon?" She was suddenly at a loss for words again, which didn't often happen. Her brain, however was working overtime trying to catch up.

What is this hot-head talking about? Damned those eyes are sexy. Who thinks about someone's eyes when they're arguing with them?

"You should've begged my pardon about a half-hour ago, sweetheart." His handsome face relaxed slightly as his gaze strayed from her eyes to give her body a leisurely once-over.