Enticing Iris

Chapter One

“I don’t need the fucking nanny, Heidi.”

“You want the summer? You’re taking the nanny.”

Elijah Vance raked a hand back through his hair and met his ex-wife’s obstinate blue eyes in her bathroom mirror as she applied a coat of shimmering red lipstick. He couldn’t help but think she was deliberately calling attention to that particular feature at this particular moment, but she had to know her beauty had ceased being a weapon she could use against him long ago. Anyway, he was too pissed off. She was getting ready to go out with her movie-star boyfriend right now, but this time Eli hadn’t let her walk away from the conversation he’d tried to instigate a dozen times already.

“The boys aren’t any trouble,” he said. “I don’t even see why you need the nanny. It’s just something else you can spend my money on.”

Heidi let her hand fall away from its task in exasperation. It wasn’t the best tactic to take, maybe, but any mention of his money always got her attention. “Excuse me?”

“The only time I’ll be away from them is the hour and a half I’ll be onstage. That’s it. They’ll be right there watching, and the rest of the time, I’ll be hanging out with them. That’s the whole point of this. The nanny—” He broke off. Hell, what was her name? He could never remember. She was always in the background, quiet and sometimes bespectacled, walking the requisite ten steps behind so the paps wouldn’t catch her in a shot and imply to the rest of the world that Heidi Vance couldn’t handle her own two children. “Whatever her name is. She won’t be needed. She’ll be useless.”

Heidi turned from the mirror to look at him directly, sneering. “Iris is her name, and she’ll be far from useless, considering all the time you’ll spend fucking groupies.”

Eli clamped his jaw tight. He supposed after all these years Heidi still knew how to get his attention, too. “I won’t be fucking groupies,” he grumbled.

“Aw. They’ll be so disappointed to hear it.”

“They’ll have to be.”

Aesthetic Ruin’s tours weren’t about the stereotypical rock lifestyle any longer. Because Eli—and hopefully the rest of the guys in the band—was more concerned with living than partying. After fifteen years they’d probably all done enough damage to their bodies, and as far as groupies . . . there was only so much pussy one could look at before one began to feel that one had seen them all.

Though he supposed the older, jaded rock star was as stereotypical as the hard partying one. Jaded. Jaded. Sounds better than “washed up.” Although he didn’t put himself into that category yet, and neither did his hardcore fans, there were plenty of assholes on the Internet who did. But they didn’t know shit.

Now, it was all about the music for him. The rush he didn’t get any other way. The crowds. It was the only drug he would allow himself. He had Seger and Dylan looking up to him now, and they were eleven and nine, respectively. That magical stage of life where a kid missed absolutely nothing. He’d let them down enough in years past; he didn’t plan on doing it again. Ever.

“Look, Iris is great and I trust her,” Heidi said, her tone reaching a more reasonable pitch. “I won’t worry so much about the boys being on tour without me if you take her with you. You know how things can happen in the blink of an eye.”

“And supernanny Iris never blinks, I take it.” All he needed was his ex-wife’s flunky on his ass all the time.

“No. She doesn’t.”

Great.

Eli sighed. There probably wasn’t any way he was getting out of this. Heidi was giving up her own kid time to let him take the boys on tour, though he doubted that was any great sacrifice on her part. The least he could do was indulge her on this one thing, right?

But he was so sick and fucking tired of letting her win.

“And it’ll be easier on you,” she went on. “Iris knows their schedules, knows their needs, keeps up with all of Dylan’s allergies. Hang out with them all you want and let her handle the hard stuff. What’s wrong with that?”

“Maybe I want to handle the hard stuff.” Unlike you, he added silently.

As if he’d said it out loud, she laughed bitingly. “Trust me, you don’t. They can be a handful.”

“Of course they can. They’re kids.” He’d always been able to grapple with the various crises better than Heidi. She was prone to meltdowns at the least disruption to her perfect life. Dylan’s allergies were a case in point. From his first anaphylactic reaction, she’d despaired over the extra work of making sure he didn’t eat what he shouldn’t, mainly tree nuts and shellfish. The one and only time he’d been stung by a bee, he puffed up like the Michelin man, so those devil bugs made the list too. A dog or cat in the vicinity would have him itchy and wheezing for hours, so pets were out. “I know everything Dylan needs as well as you do.”

“Eli, just do this. What am I supposed to do with the girl for two months while the kids are away?”

“Give her the time off. I’m sure she would appreciate it. What the fuck am I supposed to do with her for two months?”

“I want her wherever the boys are.” It was Heidi’s and that’s that tone.

“The boys are going to be on the bus with me.”

“Then she’s on the bus with you.”

“Like hell she will be.”

“Goddamn it, E. The kids are her job. Let her go along and I promise you won’t regret it.”

“Do you really think she’ll thank you for forcing her into tour life when she’s used to all this?” He swept his arm to encompass Heidi’s lavish home. His former home.  

She ignored the comment, going back to painting her face. “She’s very smart. She  tutors Seger.”

“It’s summer.”

“And he struggles all year. An hour a day isn’t going to cut into your precious time too much.”

All right, he could give her that one. “And Seger goes for that?”

“Those boys love her. She has a way with them. You’ll see.”

Her voice held that self-assured triumph that always rankled him. How was he supposed to get quality time in with the boys when he had a fucking nanny tagging along?

By leaving her ass on the bus or in her hotel room, he decided, stalking across his former bedroom, leaving Heidi to get ready in his former bathroom . . . probably to roll with her boyfriend across Elijah’s former bed. The thought made bile rise in his throat.

But he wouldn’t give two fucks what she did as long as the—as long as Iris stayed out of their way. And as long as he could be assured she wasn’t running to her employer to blab about everything she saw on the road. Not that he intended to raise hell (too much), but the thought crawled under his skin and itched. He didn’t need Heidi’s eyes following him everywhere he went, her ears listening to everything he said.

Fuck. That.

He jerked the bedroom door open. Iris, limbs flailing, tumbled forward and damn near knocked him to the floor. By reflex, his arms went around her to keep her from taking him down with her. Wide sky-blue eyes blinked up at him.

Even the one second he held her was long enough to catalog a myriad of sensation: the softness of a breast, the silken brush of her hair, the strength of her hands as she pushed and struggled against him as if he were burning her.

“Sorry,” she mumbled once he’d leveled her up to her own two feet again, fixing the glasses that had been knocked askew. “I was just . . .” Eavesdropping, he thought. It had already begun. “I was coming to see if you needed anything else, Heidi,” she called toward the bathroom.

“No, that’ll be all today, Iris. Elijah has stopped by to take the boys for the night. Thank you.”

“At least she thinks I’m capable for a single night,” he muttered. Heidi had missed Iris’s grand entrance. He was sure if he pointed it out, she would roll her eyes and tell him he was being ridiculous. But the woman’s weight had been pressed solid against the door. He’d felt it.

Iris didn’t comment on what he’d said, and Eli assessed her through narrowed eyes. Her face, small and heart-shaped, was a blank slate, and her lustrous black hair caught the soft overhead light in a perfect halo. She was a little thing, the tiny body he’d felt flush against him completely hidden underneath a loose pink T-shirt and jeans.

She caught his perusal and quickly looked away, blushing before his very eyes as she adjusted her glasses again, looking more librarian than nanny. A damn pretty librarian. He was surprised Heidi tolerated it.

“All right, I’ll see you tomorrow, then!” Iris called cheerily, then beat a hasty retreat out into the hallway. Eli gave her a few seconds’ head start and followed, just in time to see her round the corner ahead and fly down the stairs at warp speed. As she reached the ground floor, she called, “Bye, boys!” to Seger and Dylan in the living room. He heard his sons chorus their goodbyes back at her amid exclamations about the video game they were playing.

“Wait,” Eli said.

Iris froze, her hand on the front door handleset, slowly turning to look up at him as he descended the curving stairs at his own lazy pace. “Yes?”

Once at the bottom, Eli cast a glance into the living room, at his sons with their dark heads together in front of the TV. He gestured for Iris to follow him into the study off the foyer. Leading the way, he opened the door for her and shut it behind them after she entered timidly. A whiff of scent followed her, something sweet and floral. He tried not to breathe it in as she turned to face him, blue eyes wary behind her glasses, but it teased at his senses nonetheless.

And that pissed him off.

*     *     *

Iris Silverman could hardly believe this was her life.

When Heidi told her that Seger and Dylan were going with their dad for a majority of the summer, she’d immediately begun to wonder what she was going to do with herself for a couple of months. Heidi had quickly answered that question for her. I want you to go with them.

Iris’s head had nearly spun off her shoulders. But not in excitement. In absolute dizzying terror.

Heidi and Elijah Vance had been divorced for three years, and Iris had come on board in Heidi’s employ after the animosity between them had cooled somewhat. She hadn’t been around Eli that much. He spent most of his time in the studio; Heidi complained often and loudly about how much of a workaholic he had always been, even now. When he wasn’t behind a soundboard or in the vocal booth, he was on tour. He didn’t see the boys nearly often enough, Heidi said, but now that he was making an effort, she wasn’t happy with the way he was going about it.

When they were married, they’d often toured with the kids. But now that those days were over, Heidi was beside herself at the thought of not being around. She hadn’t liked some of the things she’d seen on the road, and she feared Eli wouldn’t be attentive enough or protective enough. Iris didn’t know him, so she had no opinion on that matter. Yet. But he seemed to be adequately perturbed at his ex-wife’s assumption.

Heidi really was a more caring mother than anyone gave her credit for. Even, Iris thought, Elijah himself. But she tended to second-guess her instincts a lot, and she still relished her freedom. Maybe a little too much at times.

Iris watched Elijah Vance shut the study door, crossing her arms at the sudden burst of chill bumps that skittered down them. The man had a presence, an innate charisma, and she’d never been alone with him before. She swore she would know he was something special even if she’d never met him. And she wasn’t even a fan of his music—his growling rock was too loud and heavy for her tastes. But she could definitely see his appeal. The long hair, the sultry lips framed with dark scruff. Those piercing, almost otherworldly green eyes.

And dear God, he had caught her listening in on their conversation upstairs. Her cheeks flamed to think of it, and she resisted the urge to reach up and try to rub away the warmth.

“I know what you were doing,” he said, nailing her with the full force of those eyes. They made a lighter, startling contrast to his jet black hair, and as he walked closer, she noticed the green was even more vivid and springlike just around his pupils. Seger definitely had his dad’s eyes. Dylan, except for his dark hair, looked more like Heidi.

Iris cleared her throat and shifted her weight, dropping her gaze to the floor a few inches in front of Elijah’s stylishly weathered black boots. There was really no use denying it, so she didn’t. “I’m sorry.”

“What did you hope to hear in there?”

“I . . .” What had she hoped to hear? She didn’t even know. It had been completely out of line and unprofessional, and she’d deserved for him to tell on her. But he hadn’t. “I’m nervous about this whole thing, if you want to know the truth. I guess I was kind of hoping you would . . . shoot it down?” And he’d damn sure tried to, so at least they were on the same page there.

“Believe me, if I had my way, you wouldn’t be anywhere near me.”

Her brow furrowed at the rudeness of his tone. She’d done wrong, sure, and maybe she deserved that too, but she didn’t like it nonetheless. And she could give as good as she got. She shot a glare at him, and maybe she was walking on thin ice, but it was Heidi who signed her paychecks, not Eli. “Believe me, the feeling is mutual.”

Then again, she thought as his expression turned thunderous, who paid Heidi? This man here. Heidi had been in a few TV shows several years back, hot enough to snag a rich, famous husband. Now that her marriage was over, she was more like a professional celebrity girlfriend. “Then I suggest you tell your boss to nix this idea. It’s ludicrous.”

“That’s not my place, sir. She tells me what to do and I do it. It’s my job to look out for those boys, and as much as I don’t like this idea, I intend to do it as part of my job.”

“I can look out for my own goddamn sons.”

“No one is saying you can’t.”

He began to pace, barely leashed savagery in every step. In the few clips she’d seen of him onstage, he’d stalked that space the same way. “I know what she’s doing. She’s looking for ammunition. If she had her way, I’d never—”

“Excuse me, but I don’t think this is appropriate.”

His eyes flashed angrily at her, the green on fire. “Isn’t it? She’s sending you along to be her spy.”

Iris stepped back in astonishment. “Her spy?”

“Yeah. And looks like you’ve already started, though you kind of suck at your job so far.” He gestured toward the ceiling, indicating what had just happened upstairs.

“I know that was highly inappropriate, and I apologize. I can assure you it won’t happen again. But to spy on you . . . no, nothing at all was said about that.”

Hopefully he wasn’t a human lie detector.

You let me know if anything shady goes down, Iris. Promise me. I want to know what he does, where he goes . . . The list had gone on. Who he fucks had been in there too. And while Iris had reluctantly given her assent, she’d wondered if she would be able to go through with it. Who the guy slept with was his business, right? She was only the nanny. As long as his behavior wasn’t having a negative effect on the kids, why did Heidi need to know about it?

If he kept pissing her off, though . . .

And if he kept looking at her that way . . .

Iris licked her lips and longed for escape from this uncomfortable exchange. Was this what the next few weeks would be like? Dealing with his accusations, his hostility? “I promise you don’t have anything to worry about. This is your time with your kids and I’m not looking to infringe on that. I just want to help. That’s why I’m here. And it’ll make Heidi feel better.”

“So she says. More likely it’ll give Heidi time to run off with her boyfriend and drive the paparazzi crazy.” He seemed bitter about that. Iris wondered if there were still feelings there. She sometimes wondered if the reverse were also true, despite the nearly constant presence of Heidi’s longtime boyfriend. It was sad when a couple who obviously cared about each other couldn’t make it work. She didn’t think Eli had seriously dated since the divorce. At least, Heidi had never mentioned it, and Heidi would’ve definitely mentioned it.

It wasn’t Iris’s place to get in the middle of things. But whatever else she was, Heidi had been good to her. She didn’t like standing here and listening to her ex-husband lambaste her. Maybe Iris’s side job on this tour was getting him to see that the mother of his children wasn’t such a bad person. High-maintenance, maybe. Selfish at times, okay. But who was perfect? No one. Certainly not him, certainly not Iris.

Then again, Iris only worked for Heidi; she’d never had to be married to the woman. None of this is my business. Only the kids. Only they are my business. But only good could come of creating a stable atmosphere for those boys.

“Her only motive that I’m aware of is to make sure Seger and Dylan are okay, Mr. Vance.”

“Cut the ‘Mr. Vance’ shit.”

Mr. Jackass. How about that? “Okay.”

“When I’m with my kids, I got it. I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to hear you. I don’t need fucking supervised visits. That was never a part of our divorce agreement.”

“Understood. But—”

“Understand this. If Heidi’s so fucking worried about what I’m doing, she can come herdamnself. Not that there’s a fat chance in fuck of that happening, but you being there and on her payroll is the next worst thing.”

“I’m not your enemy. I’m not trying to be.”

“You’re damn sure not my friend.”

Iris swallowed past the nervous lump in her throat. She couldn’t say she’d ever been shut into a room with an angry, ranting rock star before. And she didn’t have to be. This was her boss’s house. It wasn’t his. Not anymore. But she had to find some way to get along with this man for the next two months. She wasn’t sure she knew how to do it. Her specialty was kids, not their jerkwad parents.

“Okay, well, I think this conversation is over. We obviously aren’t going to reach an agreement on things today.”

“That’s probably the only thing we agree on.” He turned for the door, snatched it open, strode out into the foyer. Iris practically ran after him, feeling she could breathe again for the first time since he’d shut them into the dark-paneled room. No sooner had she crossed the threshold than the front door opened and Heidi’s boyfriend strolled in as if he owned the place. The two men came practically face-to-face.

Oh . . . fudge.

Nicolas Steele was Hollywood’s darling up-and-comer. Iris could scarcely believe she was, at this moment, standing in a room with two very famous men. Two men who might come to blows if the animosity building between them reached a boiling point. Iris could practically cut the tension with a knife, but just as she was about to flee upstairs for Heidi’s intervention, Eli broke eye contact with the shorter man, drew a deep breath, and turned for the living room. “Boys.” His voice sounded strained. “Go get your stuff.”

Nic glanced at Iris and gave her a wink, as if to say it was all good. She smiled at him and bolted for the front door. Get me the heck out of here.

Her silver SUV sat in the wide circular driveway, and she all but sprinted to it, escaping into the silent sanctuary. It was one of her favorite places to be, in her car, and she didn’t care that that was a little weird. Sometimes, she just liked to drive. Far. Away from everything. She would go around the country if she could, sight seeing. And then it occurred to her that she was getting that chance in a way, even if she wasn’t the one behind the wheel. She would definitely miss her vehicle.

People around all the time. Elijah Vance around all the time. God, could she do this?

As she was thinking it, he walked out of the house with his kids, laughing. Dylan had jumped onto his back, arms wrapped around his neck, giggling wildly as he got a piggyback ride. Seger sauntered along behind them with that exasperated eleven-year-old distaste. For the first time since she’d laid eyes on him today, Elijah looked happy, carefree, and the transformation was a miraculous one. She would never have thought this was the same man she’d faced in the study barely five minutes ago, all thunder erased from his expression. And he was damn good-looking when he smiled that way, his eyes crinkling up at the corners, dimples digging boyishly into his cheeks.

Iris sucked in a breath and cast her eyes down to her lap, lest he spot her and think she was spying again. She fished her phone out of her bag and sat staring blindly at it until she heard the muffled sounds of him and the boys getting into his ‘67 Mustang Fastback: voices fading, doors slamming. She watched the matte black car—one of many mint condition classics Iris knew he owned, this one murdered out—purr its way around the circle and finally disappear down the driveway.

She almost wanted to follow, to get a firsthand peek at how he really was with the kids, far away from the stresses of his ex-wife and her lover, but that was insane.

She would get her chance soon enough.