Free The Rockstar and His Fangirl (How Not to be Seduced by Rockstars): A Hot Billionaire Rock Star Romance by Marian Tee Page A

after a beat, “So…how was your flight?”
    “It was okay,” she said quickly.
    “That’s great.” He turned to her with a frown. “But I’d really rather you didn’t travel alone again. It makes me sick with worry.”
    Was that really the reason – or was it because he hadn’t wanted her to fly here…and be with him? It was hard not to think that when she remembered how he had reacted after she told him about her surprise.
    “By the way, when I get there, I just want you to know I’ve booked train tickets for us to Venice. It’s going to be an overnight journey.”
    And he had said—
    Nothing.  
    Remembering the conversation made her want to sigh, but she didn’t allow herself the luxury to do so. Focus on the future, Saffi. Today was the day to save her marriage. Whatever it took, she had to find out what had made her husband change.
    ****
    “Are you done changing?” Staffan knocked on the door of the en-suite bathroom in their cabin. Normally he would have no qualms entering without permission in hopes of finding his wife naked. But it was different now.
    “Just another minute,” Saffi answered, her voice muffled. “Where are we going, anyway?”
    “There’s a special wine and cheese buffet at the observation car. I thought we could check it out.” He didn’t actually give a shit about the buffet, but it was a good an excuse as any for them to avoid spending too much time together in private.
    Saffi finally emerged, looking ethereal like she always did in her little black dress.  
    “You look beautiful,” he murmured.
    “I’m glad you approve.” She turned around.
    That was when he saw that her little black dress wasn’t so ordinary. Rather, he saw nothing, the dress only having a pair of spaghetti straps to hold it together at the back. It dipped so low that if he was in a mind to inch the silk down, Staffan knew he would have seen the line of his wife’s deliciously ample bottom.
    Hearing Staffan mutter something in Swedish, Saffi turned to face him, asking innocently, “What’s that?” Please Lord, please let him be jealous.
    Her husband asked tersely, “Aren’t you going to be cold in that dress?”
    Imaginary fist-pumping inanga. She tried not to smile as she said, “Nope. I don’t feel cold at all.”  
    Opening the door for her, he said reluctantly, “If you’re sure…”
    As they headed to the observation car, she tried to casually reach for her husband’s hand, but instead Staffan stuck his hands inside his trousers’ pockets at the exact same time.  
    Staffan forced himself to ignore the stricken look on Saffi’s face. This was for her own good. In time, she would understand why.
    Don’t give up, Saffi. Red-faced, she told herself the words over and over as they made their way to the observation car. Fashioned with charming elegance, the fifty-seater car had walls covered in velvet damask and the floor covered in original Aubusson rugs. Vintage chandeliers hung from the ornate ceilings and in one corner, a man played classical music from a baby grand.
    There were only two rows of cushions in the observation car, with each having its own window to enjoy the scenery. Saffi hurried to the back, needing the utmost privacy. “Could we sit here?”
    Staffan tried not to reveal his unease at Saffi’s choice. “I think it’s better to stay here.” He stopped at the first booth he reached that was adjacent to an occupied one.
    “Oh. Okay.” Saffi did her best to hide her disappointment as she walked back to where Staffan was. The cushion next to them was occupied by a woman in a business suit. Saffi studied her discreetly, trying to decide whether the other woman could be a fan of Staffan Aehrenthal.
    Probably not, Saffi thought. She looked way too old and serious.  
    “Saffi? Window or aisle?” Staffan asked.  
    She experienced a moment of panic. Which position would make it easier for her to seduce Staffan? “Umm, window?”
    “All right.” He stepped