He could feel her thinking, worrying, and the way he was so attuned to her thoughts even though they had just met was even more alarming.
“Ovulating orangespine unicorn fish.”
Staffan swallowed a bark of laughter at what she was muttering to herself.
Ah, Saffi March.
I can’t wait to take your f**king virginity and make you mine.
Chapter Five
Saffi March changed her status to In an Open Relationship.
Staffan was throwing her dagger looks, which Saffi did her best to feign ignorance to. He stood poised at the doorway of the airplane, waiting for her – no, he was silently demanding and commanding her with his gaze to go to him.
But she didn’t want to. She couldn’t. For one thing, she couldn’t risk having any photographer identify her and blow her disguise. Secondly – and this weighed most heavily on her if Saffi was honest – she just didn’t feel good standing next to him.
Even after everything, he still felt way out of her league. She was a lowly G, or a fangirl if you will, while he was the star of the tour, the man millions all over the world paid fortunes for the opportunity to see him perform on stage. She had no right to stand next to him.
The door slowly opened with a swooshing sound, forcing Staffan to look away – but not without giving Saffi one last glance. If looks could kill, Staffan would have her six – no, make that sixty – feet under by now.
Staffan slowly descended from the plane, his professional mask slipping back on his face. But he really didn’t have to pretend. He was in a black mood, which perfectly fit his “cold, aloof, arrogant” image. Or at least that was how most bloggers liked to describe him.
A red carpet had been rolled out for him, and he curtly nodded his thanks after the welcoming speech of the airport officials. Behind him, the crew was also getting off the airplane, and he heard something that made him stiffen, with Bob almost bumping into his back.
Saffi was laughing.
His head snapped up as he turned towards the sound.
Saffi was joking around with Carson and Bradley.
Staffan gritted his teeth.
If this was how she f**king wanted to play the game, then she f**king wouldn’t win it.
~~~
An hour later and Saffi was miserable. Staffan wasn’t just giving her the cold shoulder. He was also allowing local Gs to flirt with him and monopolize his attention. The entire crew had flooded the hotel’s exclusive club, with Staffan declaring an open bar. Of course, Gs who were not above touching c**k knobs had been allowed inside the “private” party as well.
“He’s usually not like that,” Alan whispered to her. All of them – and she did mean the entire crew – couldn’t take their eyes off Staffan and his harem of girls. Some of them were the most seductive women Saffi had ever seen in her life, their every move designed to incite lust.
How the heck could she compete with that when all she knew about sex was from free Amazon erotica novels? She didn’t dare buy the paid ones since that would show up on her credit card bills, which her parents still took care of.
Donovan shook his head. “Strictly speaking, he used to be like that before and after his relationship with the Cougar.”
Saffi knew who the Cougar was even though it was her first time to hear someone refer to Chloe Gustav in such a way. After all, she was one of America’s Sweethearts, the woman who took over Julia Roberts’ throne when the latter went into semi-retirement.
Alan grimaced. “I really don’t get what the boss saw in her.”
“They grew up together so he probably sees something that others don’t.” It hurt her to say the words, but she felt like she had to defend Staffan.
Alan nudged her shoulder with his. “Aren’t you going to do something?”
She shrugged helplessly. “He’s mad---”
“Bullshit, Sa---I mean, H. You did all this crazy stuff for a reason and now you’re just going to let it go like that?” He snapped his fingers for emphasis.
Donovan nodded firmly. “Get your man back, H.”
“But I can’t go through those women,” she protested. “They’re like…I don’t know…rattlesnakes and queen cobras and I’m like a---a domesticated worm!”
Alan took firm hold of her shoulders. “First of all, no sane human being keeps worms as pets. Secondly, you are not a worm. You are a…tigress.” Alan ignored Donovan when his lover looked at him like he was crazy. “Got that, H? You’re a fierce tigress!”
“A tigress!” Saffi actually let out a roar, carried away by the image in her mind, and made a clawing gesture at Alan.
Donovan choked on his laughter.
Alan nodded, straight-faced, even as he dodged Saffi’s clawing fingers. “That’s right. A tigress---like the tiger in Pooh but the female version! You can be strong when and where it counts. You can do this. You’re the smartest girl in the world. If you can’t go to him, make him go to you.”
Slowly, an idea occurred to her. “I’ll need your help. The two of you.”
Donovan grinned. “We are at your service.”
~~~
What the f**k were they talking about? Staffan knew he shouldn’t be brooding about what a certain girl and his two goddamn traitorous backup dancers were talking about. He should be having the time of this life, with all his concerts selling out even before his tour officially began. He was surrounded by beautiful women, all willing to do anything he wanted. He had wealth, fame, and everything else that a man could want.
So why the f**k did he want to smash the two men’s faces simply by daring to stand close to Saffi?
And Saffi!
Damn stubborn girl. What the hell did she want from him?
His phone rang. The name that flashed on the screen made Staffan’s face harden. He rejected the call without hesitation. He had no time for Chloe’s explanations. As far as he was concerned, what she did said it all.
When he looked up, Staffan cursed long and fluently at the sight that greeted him.
Saffi was dancing on the ledge, and his entire crew was cheering for her, chanting just one word that made Staffan stand up so quickly he ended overturning his table, causing bottles to crash on the floor and the women around him shriek in surprise.
STRIP.
In seconds, he had shoved his way to the ledge. “What the f**k do you think you’re doing?” he growled. Had she f**king forgotten she hadn’t even her f**king underwear under his trench coat?
Staffan was jealous.
Over her.