American Diva
American Diva
“There was no conversation—for which Jack was thankful, for the girl could really infuriate him. Pills? Who was she, Janis Joplin?—Jack studied the smooth skin of her thigh.
That was not helping him rid himself of the image of her in skimpy underwear.
Dammit. He could throttle her for not getting up this morning, because he had a feeling it was going to take him a good long while to stop thinking about those panties.
He wondered what she was thinking—she looked miserable. But when they turned into the parking lot of the arena, there was a small group of young girls hanging around the gated entrance. When they spied the limo, they screamed and jumped up and down, waving at it.
“Oh!” Audrey said, instantly lighting up like Times Square. “Stop here, stop here!” she cried to the driver, and as soon as he rolled to a stop, she popped out. Jack did, too, moving instantly to where she had walked up to the group of girls, who had broken into pandemonium at the sight of Audrey.
“What are you doing?”
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