Chapter Three

When the plane landed in Anchorage, Mac realized that Jon had taken his sunglasses off sometime during the flight. Even though Sandy had tried to describe the color of his eyes, Mac was surprised by the piercing shade of light blue as his gaze met hers. Breaking eye contact with the handsome man, Mac glanced at her watch. It was only 5:30 in the evening, but mid-January in Anchorage meant the sun had set an hour before the plane landed. She knew from the itinerary she was given that the show would be the next night, and was a special show to benefit after school programs in Alaska.

Just before they began to exit the plane, Obie caught Mac’s attention when he stopped Richie and asked, "Where’s Benny?"

Mac noticed that even Jon winced at the bad joke when Richie sang, "B-B-B-Benny’s on the jet."
A tall, dark headed muscle-bound man stepped forward and asked, "What do you need, Obie?"

"I want you to stay with Mac and keep an eye out for her," Obie answered.

"Now, that’ll be the easiest job you’ve ever given me, Obie." replied Benny as the band members began to de-board the plane.

Before stepping thru the door, Jon turned to Benny and said "Make sure the two of you stay close to me and the guys. I don’t care what Obie said, I want you to keep both eyes on her."

With her temper pricked, Mac narrowed her eyes and glared at Jon as she snatched up her purse and laptop, and with her head held high, dignity still intact, she quickly stepped in front of Jon to exit the plane before him, vowing to herself to take this up with him later.

The speed and efficiency with which they made it through the airport surprised Mac. They all worked together and with security like clockwork, obviously having done this thousands of times. An hour later, she was pacing in the room assigned to her in an expensive four-star hotel. She was still seething over Jon’s obvious command to her new baby sitter. Mac honestly wouldn’t be surprised to open her door and find Benny outside like some sort of sentry. Deciding now was a good time to confront Jon, while her temper was still hot enough to melt the polar ice cap, she stalked to her door and flung it open. It was almost anti-climatic not to see Benny standing outside guarding her door. She knew which door was Jon’s because she had seen him enter it just before she went into her own room. Marching to the door across the hall, she paused a moment to take a deep breath, before knocking on it loudly.

Jon sat in a chair looking out the big picture window, the lights of another city winking back at him when someone knocked on the door. He knew who it was; he could smell her. He had known this was coming. He didn’t need to be a vampire to see the anger rolling off of her in waves on the plane. "Come in," he called softly, ready for battle.

Just as she turned the door knob from the outside, he used his mind to turn it on his side so that it would open for her since the door automatically locked when closed.

Mac walked in the room. The view took her breath away, not the scenic view, but the man enjoying it. He sat shirtless, reclining in a dark colored, curved back chair just like the two in her own room. His bare feet were propped in the identical chair sitting in front of him, his hands lay with fingers laced casually across his muscular abdomen.

With one foot he casually pushed the chair out from under his other foot. "Have a seat, Ms. Donaldson," he offered. She stood motionless, just staring at him. He looked at her questioningly, with one blond eyebrow raised. When she didn’t move, only stood there still staring, he reached out with his mind once again trying to touch hers.

The odd sensation of butterfly wings brushing against her brain caused Mac to jerk her head and take a step further into the room. "I’d rather stand," she told him.

"Whatever," he said casually.

Annoyed at his calm demeanor, she began to pace as she started her list of complaints, "Let’s get a few things straight here Mr. Bon Jovi, I’m here to do a job. Nothing more, nothing less. If you didn’t want me here, you shouldn’t have agreed to the article." She stopped pacing long enough to throw a glacial frown his way, before resuming her tirade. "You have been borderline rude to me since I joined ya’ll. And the biggest insult was to assign me a babysitter. I’m a grown woman. I will come and go as I please; I don’t need or want an escort that’s just going to get in the way of my article." It irritated her that he had not changed positions other than to put his feet back up in the chair, somehow managing to move it back closer to him without her realizing he had moved. He showed no outward sign of emotion; it was almost like he was once again ignoring her. He still sat looking at her with that annoying blank look on his face, with one blond eyebrow raised as if surprised by her behavior.

Jon sat contemplating the woman before him. She was beautiful anyway, but angry she was a glorious sight to behold. As much as he had enjoyed watching her pace back and forth in the confines of his room, waving her hands in the air to punctuate each word, he knew he couldn’t let her continue with this tirade. He had a reputation for an explosive temper, even though he worked hard to keep it under control. A vampire’s temper could be deadly, and whenever possible he kept it under lock and key, but from time to time he did lose it. Right now though, he was enjoying this way too much, but he knew that he had a reputation to live up to. It was time to at least try to act angry.

"Ms. Donaldson," he began in an icy tone, stressing the use of her last name just as she had done with his, "don’t take it personally, I’m ‘borderline rude’ with everyone I don’t know. And as for Benny, he’s not your babysitter. He was asked to look after you so that you didn’t get separated from us. Because, although we made it through the airport with no problems today, we have been known to attract crowds of screaming fans. Benny was to protect you in the crush if it became necessary and to keep you from getting separated from us in any confusion."

His calm, if icy, explanation took the heat right out of her temper and left her feeling foolish. "I’m sorry," she apologized. "Thank you for explaining things to me." She turned to leave the room.

His voice stopped her. "Feel privileged, I don’t usually explain myself to anyone. Except maybe Richie."

That got her attention. She spun back around to glare at him. "And what makes me so special?"

"Not a thing," he said, trying to convince her and himself. He played on the look he had seen briefly cross her face, the embarrassed look of someone who was in the wrong. "I just wanted to make you feel foolish and childish for throwing a fit in my hotel room."

She gasped at his words. If he had smiled, even blinked, she might have thought he was just teasing her, but somehow she knew he was deliberately being an ass. Briefly she wondered why, but shook her head and turned to leave again. She paused at the door, but didn’t turn to look at him as she said, "You know, you could be rid of me a whole hell of a lot sooner if you’d take the time to sit down for an interview," and with that parting shot she left him to his solitude.

Jon watched her go, his beautiful lips twisting in a slight grin, she was really something. He knew it would take every bit of will power he had to fight her allure, and the sad thing was she didn’t even seem to notice her own sexual appeal. He had told Richie that it wasn’t a good idea to give into his attraction for her, and he really believed that. But, just like his friend said, he wasn’t one to do something just because it was a good idea, and somehow he knew giving in was going to cause more problems than he could handle. That’s why he was pushing her as far away as he could with his behavior toward her, because he was going to need her help to resist her. If she didn’t like him, maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t be an easy conquest.

Mac stormed across the hall to her own room, slamming the door behind her as she entered it. "The nerve of that man," she seethed, to the empty room. But, as angry as she was at him, she had to admit he was one sexy, prime example of manhood. She pushed that thought away almost as fast as it entered her head, knowing he wouldn’t be interested in her. Daniel had made sure she was aware of her lack of sex appeal, pointing out all her faults. Her legs were too long for her short stature, her freckles across her nose made her look like a little girl, and her breasts were too big for her frame. "More than a hand full is wasteful," he had said more than once. The list of her faults was long and had been recited to her many, many times. She had it memorized by now. He had even said sleeping with her had been like making love to an iceberg. Surely an international rock star who could have any woman he wanted, would have no interest in her.

A knock at her door interrupted her angry pacing. "Who is it?" she called.

"Richie," came the answer from the other side of the door.

What was he doing here? "Come in," she answered.

Richie turned the knob, but the door didn’t open. Thinking she must have locked the door without realizing it, Mac walked over and opened the door, stepping back to allow the guitarist entrance. "Come in," she said again, making a sweeping motion with her hand.

"Actually," he began, "I only came to invite you down to the dining room to have dinner with me and the guys."

"I don’t know," she returned his smile, "I’m really tired after that flight."

"I just thought it would be a good opportunity to get to know us better," he encouraged.



A few minutes later, Mac was sitting in a private dining room with Richie and the other members of Bon Jovi, although Jon was conspicuously absent. She had asked where he was and Richie had given her a vague answer. It wasn’t like he could tell her or the rest of the guys that Jon had gone to pick up a strange woman so he could feed. He was probably in the hotel bar right now working his magic, or already back in his hotel room easing his hunger in more ways than one. Richie glanced around the table, taking in the men he liked to call brothers. He often wondered why Jon chose not to tell David and Tico his secret, but he had never asked his best friend that question. His gaze fell on the newcomer of the group, laughing at something David had just said. She really was a beautiful woman with long light brown hair, flashing forest green eyes, and a tiny sprinkling of freckles across her nose. Short in stature, she still managed to have long gorgeous legs, and her breasts were enough to make any man’s mouth water. He shook his head, too bad Jon had already staked a claim. They had often competed for women in the past, even the recent past, but Jon had never practically ordered him to stay away from a woman. Obviously, this one had made a remarkable effect on his buddy.

While Mac was charming his friends, Jon was hunting. He had given up on the fare available in the hotel bar and decided to go for a walk, intending to find something to eat outside of the hotel. There just wasn’t a woman in the bar he wanted as much as the one who had looked so incredible while she paced his hotel room in a pique of anger. The vampire in him required he feed, but the man in him knew that was the only hunger that would be eased tonight.
He stopped walking outside of what was obviously a popular restaurant and stood in the shadows, with the bill of his baseball cap hiding his face as he covertly watched the patrons coming and going. He stood leaning against the brick wall with one leg bent, his foot flat on the wall. The brick was cold against his shoulders as he lit a cigarette and continued to watch, waiting. The two twenty-something valets, one male and one female, were really hopping. Just as he had decided to catch the young woman in the parking lot between parking cars, he watched a taxi pull up in front of the building waiting to let the fares out at the door. A female cabbie would make a perfect meal, he decided, and headed over to get in the taxi when the couple exited it.

"Where to?" the cabbie asked, as he slid in the back seat.

"Just take me around town, I wanna see some of the sights," he told her, thinking how lucky he was that this wasn’t a New York taxi and there was not a partition between him and the driver.

"You got it," she answered, putting the car in gear.

He rode in silence, reaching out with his mind to touch hers. This was going to be easier than he had thought. Once he had her in a thrall, where she would mindlessly obey his commands, he ordered in a soft voice, mesmerizing her even more, "Pull over here."

She pulled into a dark paid lot, and parked where he told her. He sat forward in the seat just as she leaned back, letting her head fall against the seat. Jon could feel his fangs growing, as he trailed his fingers down the side of her face before pushing her long red hair out of the way. She shivered in response when he licked the side of her neck. He felt her pulse jump as his hot tongue caressed her jugular right before his fangs broke the skin. Her breath came in quick little pants as her eyes closed in ecstasy, his enjoyment of the slightly salty taste of her blood on his tongue sent back to her in waves. She enjoyed the feeding as much, if not more than he did. He left her unconscious, locking the doors with his mind so that she would be safe until she came to her senses, wiping him from her memory as he went. The walk back to the hotel was cold, but thoughts of Mac kept him warm.


Arriving back at the hotel just as his band mates and Mac were leaving the restaurant, he paused, watching them walk to the elevators. Richie had thrown one arm around Mac’s shoulders, as they laughed at something with Tico and David. A low rumble started in Jon’s chest and ended as an angry growl, even as he felt his fangs lengthen. He almost took the steps necessary to be able to tear his friend away from her, but barely managed to leash his temper. It’s only Richie, he told himself, taking a deep breath and shaking his head. His fangs retracted, and his breathing returned to normal, as the doors of the elevator closed between him and his friends.

Two minutes later, in the elevator alone, his anger returned, only aimed at himself this time. How could he let her affect him this way? He needed to get a grip and treat her like any other reporter. She was there to do a job, and he needed to keep that in mind.


He had only been in his room long enough to take off his shirt, shoes and socks when her scent drifted to him and he heard a tentative knock at his door. Aw hell, it was too soon to have to deal with her again, he sighed. "Come in, Ms. Donaldson," he called out, again opening the door with his mind. She entered the room cautiously, as if expecting him to pounce on her. You don’t know how hard it is not to, Sweetheart, he thought to himself. She paused right where the entryway opened into the main part of his suite, and he used the opportunity to look her over. She was dressed entirely different than when he had seen her earlier. Now, she was dressed in tight faded jeans that appeared to almost lovingly caress her long legs, and a baggy Dallas Cowboy sweatshirt, with her long hair in a loose ponytail that lay over one shoulder ending just above her left breast. What fascinated him most was that she wasn’t wearing any shoes, just socks.

Mac caught herself staring at the half clothed man in front of her and shook her head, only to realize then that he was staring at her. She didn’t know what he found so interesting about her, but finally decided he was just waiting on her to get to the point of her visit. Sucking up her battered pride, she knew she needed to play nice and try to work out a time for an interview with him. "I’m sorry about earlier, and I only came to see if there would be a time convenient tomorrow that we could sit down for that interview."

"Oh come on, Lady," Jon’s frustration almost evident in his tone, "your article is supposed to be about the tour. Can’t you just observe what’s going on around you and write about it? Why do you have to sit down with me for a private little chat?"

"Okay," she was trying desperately to keep her temper in check, "what exactly is your problem with me? Is it that I’m not falling at your feet to worship like some groupie, or that I’m not the man you expected? Or, maybe, it’s that I’m not as attractive as some of the women that normally throw themselves at you?"

Jon stared at her in astonishment. Could she really be that clueless as to her own appeal? He thrust his fingers through his hair, rumpling it even more than it already was. "Not as attractive?" he asked in frustration. "Damn, Woman, are you on a fishing expedition or what?"

"Fishing expedition?" she questioned, clueless.

"You aren’t trying for compliments, then?"

"Compliments on what?" She was still clueless.

How could she not know how incredibly sexy she was? Somehow that was a big turn on for him. Most women who approached him either knew exactly how attractive they were, or were clueless that they weren’t attractive. He had never encountered a woman like this before, unaware of her own beauty, her own sexual appeal.

He moved so fast that Mac didn’t have time to blink before he had her pressed to the wall with his hard body. She stared up at him in silent awe, as he caressed her silken cheek with one hand and held the length of her ponytail in the other.

"You really don’t know how beautiful you are, do you?" he asked huskily.

"I’m not beautiful," her voice barely above a whisper.

He bent his head to hers, softly brushing her full, soft lips with his own. Mac was in shock, but not so far gone that she didn’t understand what the slight pressure he was applying to her chin with his thumb meant. He wanted her to open her mouth for him. When she complied to his gentle command, his hot tongue swept in to explore the honeyed recesses of her mouth. She was lost in the feel of him pressed against her, even as his tongue danced with hers. When his lips left hers, she thought the kiss was over, but he trailed kisses across her cheek and down the side of her neck. She moaned softly, as she felt the velvety roughness of his tongue stroke the skin of her neck.

The feel of her moving against him and the small, sexy sounds she was making in the back of her throat had Jon quickly losing control. He felt like an untried youth as his erection became quite evident, and his fangs began to lengthen in response to her. Using the last bit of control he had, he pushed himself away from her, turning away from her quickly to hide his fangs from her. "Go now," he said, sounding like he had just ran a mile, "while you still can."

Mac almost slid down the wall without his strong body for support. Weak in the knees, she moved one hand to her lips, surprised to find them slightly swollen from his kisses. "But..." she began, breathlessly.

"Now," his tone hard, his breathing harsh.

Quickly, with the speed of a frightened animal, she fled his room for the relative safety of her own. Standing with his hands fisted at his side, Jon heard her go. Taking several deep breaths, he felt his fangs finally recede. But, it was a long time before he was completely in control again.