Rockstar Romeo - Abbie Zanders Page 0,9

have lasted; he could never have been faithful. Worse, I might have succumbed to the allure as Ian had, poisoning my body with drugs and booze instead of prenatal vitamins and folic acid. Instead of being a healthy, happy, and mostly well-adjusted thirty-something, I might have wound up as so many others in the limelight had, turning to the surgical knife and special effects artists to desperately cling to youth taken too soon by hard living.

Did I miss singing? Yeah, kind of. Being up onstage was a hell of a rush. But there were far more important things than fame and fortune, and I wouldn’t trade the life I had now for anything.

In fact, I couldn’t think of anything I’d wish for, except possibly for broccoli to taste as good as my mother’s homemade five-cheese lasagna.

I looked at the pathetic black tray containing my nutrient-rich, low-carb meal and sighed.

As I pushed the tiny little pieces of meat into the steamed vegetables, I tried to convince myself that the meager amount was all I needed for my body to function properly. Even when I chewed each bite slowly and thoroughly, my meal didn’t last long. When my stomach demanded more, I guzzled a large glass of water to fake it into thinking I was full.

Looking furtively around the kitchen to ensure I was still alone, I ran my finger along the bottom of the tray and brought it to my lips. If I was going to log two hundred eighty calories in my intake column, I was going to make each and every one of them count, thank you very much.

Dutifully rinsing the evidence, I tossed the tray into the recycling collection bin—I was all about the green—and went upstairs to change into my workout clothes.

~ * ~

Jace

I leaned against the doorframe, unable to stop the smile that tugged at my lips as I took in the scene before me. Was I an unwelcome voyeur, intruding on her privacy? Yes. Did I care? Not enough to stop, apparently.

Eva D’Agolino was in her element, and I was absolutely fascinated. She was beautiful. Sexy as hell. And watching her do Tae Bo in those ass-hugging shorts and sports tank bra was far more alluring than Candy’s lap dance down at the Pussycat Club.

I was mesmerized by glimpses of the tattoo that flexed and moved atop all that toned muscle across her back. I couldn’t make out what it was; most of it was covered by the sports top, but just enough peeked through, firing off another round of déjà vu.

Thinking clearly was impossible, however, with her moving like that in front of me. She had an incredible ass. I could spend hours worshipping that alone. I mentally sized it up, thinking how perfectly it would fit in my large hands. How much I’d like to grasp her from behind and thrust into her until she bucked and screamed my name in pleasure.

Temporarily shelving those happy thoughts before my control regressed to that of a pubescent teen, I focused on appreciating other things about her. Skimming over other physical attributes that were every bit as dangerous as her luscious ass, I zeroed in on her spirit. She was fierce for such a tiny woman, sending out jabs and kicks like a pro.

I especially liked the way she hurled colorful expletives at the motivational instructor on the large flat screen. So at odds with the cool, calm, and collected businesswoman I’d seen earlier, the raw, emotional words revealed an earthy quality I could relate to. One that I had sensed but not seen in her office earlier. One that stoked those elusive fires of recognition and made me burn for more.

With scathing words to the screen that left even my indelicate ears singed, Eva lifted the remote, aimed it like a firearm, and sent the grinning, sweaty exercise class back into digital oblivion. Then, she tilted her head up and drained a black water bottle decorated with white skulls and red daggers.

She turned, freezing with the bottle to her lips when she saw me. Her eyes grew wide with surprise as she gave me a total doe-in-the-headlights. It was adorable really. Her eyes—a bizarre bluish-purple—drilled through me with the force of a laser beam. I silently thanked my twin sister for teaching me early on how to withstand such a fierce glare.

Still leaning against the doorframe and glad that my flannel shirt hung low enough to cover my obvious physical reaction to watching her, I