Free Black Gold by Ruby Laska

have you?" Regina pushed away her wistful longing, and forced herself to think like the businesswoman she was supposed to be. "You kept all the rights? How many songs do you have?"
    "Slow down there, woman." Chase let his voice take on a lazy drawl. "I haven't sold anything but a few cheap CDs I made about five years ago—I may still have a few in a box somewhere. But like I keep telling you, that life's over. I'm perfectly happy—more than happy—with where I am now and I'm not planning on ever getting on a stage again."
    "You just did," Regina pointed out.
    "Only because I was drunk."
    "I have more than a few clients who work that way more often than not."
    "Not worth it. Look, this has been fun and all, but I've got to get back and earn my keep."
    "There's got to be something I can say to make you reconsider. Look, it's natural to be put off by rejection."
    He laughed. "Honey, I've had so much rejection in my life that I don't know if I'd be able to operate without it."
    Regina got the distinct feeling he wasn't just talking about his music. So it was a woman, one who'd not just broken his heart but done it cruelly. Which was none of her business, at least not her personal business, since that was another check in the do-not-disturb column for Chase Warner. Regina liked her men Teflon-tough. But, as his future agent, she had to know what she was dealing with. And if rejection was his albatross, then she'd just find a way to make sure he had a taste of success, enough to encourage him to keep going.
    "So if there's nothing else, I'll head down the ladder first, and that way I'll be able to catch you when you catapult out of here in those crazy shoes," he said and started to get to his feet.
    Regina grabbed his arm. She saw her hand shoot out and close around his wrist, and had time to marvel at the fact that her body seemed to be moving independently of her mind before she tugged him back down so hard he went down on his ass, shaking the whole tree house. She had time to register that things were going horribly out of control before her other hand grabbed him around the neck and pulled him toward her.
    But after that, she didn't register anything at all except the feel of his lips on hers, the delicious sensation of his hands finding the curve of her waist and then pulling her into his lap, the sound he made as the kiss went deeper, part growl and part admonition and part promise.
    She kissed back with everything she had, and if she could no longer claim she didn't know what she was doing, if she let loose her professional sensibilities like so much dandelion silk sent drifting on the breeze, somewhere deep in her heart she knew it was worth it to kiss Chase Warner. Because he kissed nothing like Carl Cash did, nothing like the wholly unexceptional string of boyfriends before that, nothing like any man in the state of Tennessee and North Dakota and every state in between—she'd bet her life on it.
    He pulled away.
    "What the hell? " he demanded, and this time he really did get to his feet, fast and with a clomping of boots on board that shook the tree house again and not at all the way it had before. He dumped her out of his lap and she landed gracelessly and watched helplessly as he started over the side, moving with the speed of a man who was very keen on being somewhere else as soon as possible.
    But when only his head and shoulders were still visible over the side of the three house floor, he stopped.
    "What was that?" he demanded. "Is that part of the package—do you throw in a free grope for all your clients?"
    Regina winced. "I've never—I don't—"
    "Damn, I'm such an idiot," he said, shaking his head. His beautiful mouth tugged down in disgust. "I get it now. This is how you compete with that other guy."
    "Do you mean Carl ? What did he say to you? Because he and I have sort of a past, he doesn't—"
    "He gave me his card," Chase said coldly. "But at least he didn't try to kiss me. Guess he's got some kind of