Rhythm of My Heart: Speed, Book 3 Read Online Free

skinny jeans, skimpy shirts and impossibly high heels, they all looked the same. Zachary had long since stopped trying to differentiate one face from another. He’d become too accustomed to the clusters of females who swarmed him.
    Not groupies. No, groupies were another kettle of fish. A kettle that shared most of his been-there-done-that T-shirts.
    These were fans. Adoring girls who’d be content with a smile or an autograph or a high-five.
    At first, when fame had struck so fast, he’d tried to talk to them all, tried to offer them each a real smile and a heartfelt word. But that had soon become impossible. When hundreds, sometimes thousands, of fans flocked to him, it was unfeasible to give each of them his individual attention.
    He’d since mastered the art of singling out one admirer while tackling some of the hundreds of questions that were tossed his way.
    Zachary smiled patiently and handled the girls. As he spoke, he eyed the quietest one, a plain redhead. Yeah, so sue him. He had a soft spot for redheads. Especially redheads with green eyes. This one was shyer than the rest of her friends and not trying to get his attention. Instead she seemed content to stand aside while her companions flirted shamelessly.
    He grinned at her and almost laughed at her responding look of bewilderment. As a black marker was handed to him and he signed his name to someone’s shirt, he winked at the redhead.
    Her eyes widened and her cheeks turned pink. She smiled back.
    Zachary answered questions as he always did—mostly with non-answers or by deflecting the questions back to the girls.
    “Do you have a girlfriend, Jonah?”
    “A pretty girl like you asking me that?” Said with a winning smile. “I bet you’re trying to make your boyfriend jealous.”
    “What’s your star sign, Jonah?”
    “Well, now, I’m guessing you must be a Libra.” Libra . The first star sign he could think of. “It’s funny, you know. Libras ask that question a lot.”
    And so the conversation went, with Zachary charming the young women and signing his name at least five more times. The girls grew bolder, and by the time he penned his last autograph, it was to bare flesh, just above firm breasts.
    He refused to sign the bare breasts themselves. The girls were just too young for that to sit comfortably with him.
    He would have stayed with them longer had an impulse to raise his gaze and look across the room not caught him by surprise.
    Bam.
    Desire hit him like a punch in the gut.
    There she was, leaning against the wall, chatting to Delilah but watching him speculatively. Again that sense of familiarity wafted through his mind. He’d never met her before this tour, but something about her yanked at a string in his memory.
    He answered his last question and held his palm out to the shy redhead. When she tentatively gave him her hand, he lifted it to his mouth and kissed her fingers, leaving the girl flushed and her friends ooh ing and aah ing.
    With a final smile in her direction, he extricated himself from the group and walked directly to the woman whose gaze still followed his movements. In her hand she held a single rose in full bloom. Delilah no longer stood with her.
    She was an enigma, for sure.
    Apart from his mother, Zachary hadn’t given anyone flowers in a long time. Yet tonight, when instinct had dictated he offer this woman roses, she’d rejected them. Rejected him , cold. Hadn’t even bothered to tell him her name.
    Eve Andrews.
    Zachary couldn’t remember the last time he’d been rejected. Hell, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d made the first move. Continually surrounded by groupies and fans, anything more than a meaningful look or raised eyebrow had become obsolete.
    He handed his half-empty beer bottle to a waiter, neatly sidestepped a woman who eyed him lecherously, smiled for a press photographer and finally reached his destination.
    She leaned quietly against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest, the