Blackthorne: Heart of Fame, Book 8 (11 page)

Instead, she slammed her dishwasher shut, threw out a lame excuse about needing something in her bedroom—ha! What? A vibrator? Courage?—and rushed from the kitchen.

Goddamn it, he was nothing like she expected him to be and everything wonderful, playful and full of life.

And he was
here
. In her home, in
her
life, making her smile and laugh and grin.

It wasn’t fair.

The petulant, childish thought scraped at her sanity.

Swinging her bedroom door shut, she crossed to her bed, sat on its edge and buried her face in her hands.

She stayed that way for a long time, elbows resting on knees, face pressed to her palms, the pounding of her heartbeat and her rapid, ragged breaths the only sounds she could hear.

Five minutes passed, maybe. She wasn’t sure. Maybe it was longer. Long enough for her to realize just how strange her absence must be to the man she’d left holding her lizard in her kitchen.

Lifting her head from her hands, she drew a slow breath, another and another.

“Enough, woman,” she murmured. “Enough.”

She rose to her feet, brushed her palms over her thighs, raked her fingers through her hair, walked to her closed bedroom door and opened it.

Josh smiled at her from the other side, Fluffy draped over his shoulders. “Hi. We got worried.”

Grab him. Drag him into your room.

“Josh…” His name fell from her lips, barely a breath. Their eyes meshed. “I w-want…”

Kiss him.

Pull him to your bed.

Make love to—

Smile turning wry, Josh reached up behind his head and gently plucked Fluffy from his shoulders. “I have to go.”

Cold despair smashed into Caitlin, as telling as it was powerful. Go? She didn’t want him to go. She wanted him to stay with her and make her feel alive. Make her feel connected.

She wanted him to stay with her and chase away the lonely emptiness and guilt left in her heart by Matt’s disappearance. The way he’d already started to do.

She wanted—

“Mum and Dad have discovered I’m in Australia and I’ve just received a text telling me to get my butt to Murriundah ASAP.” He chuckled, the sound both full of mirth and boyish love. “I think I’m about to get my famous arse kicked by not only my mum, but my sister as well.”

She frowned, doing her best not to think of his famous arse and how good it had looked last night in black leather. “Why would they kick your butt? Because you didn’t let them know you were coming to Australia? Or because you haven’t contacted them yet since getting here?”

With another chuckle, this one more self-deprecating, he handed Fluffy to her. Their fingers touched in the exchange. Caitlin couldn’t help but draw a quick breath at the innocent contact. “Because I didn’t tell them
why
I was coming to Australia, and my bodyguard back in New York just sent Dad a text with all the details.”

Caitlin lifted an eyebrow. “You mean it wasn’t just to come to my club and cause a ruckus?”

He laughed at the flippant question. She wondered what he would have done if she’d voiced the vainglorious notion
really
on her mind—that he’d come to Australia for her.

“No,” he said as she draped Fluffy over her shoulder, the lizard’s weight and warmth an instant comfort to her. “I came to Australia because my stalker was released on bail.”

Caitlin blinked. “I’m sorry…what?”

Josh made a yeah-I-know-how-lame-is-that face. “Pretty gutless, ’eh? I flee the country just because some guy wants to chain me to his bed and have sex with me.”

Caitlin’s mouth fell open. “Jesus, please tell me you’re doing that thing you do right now? That thing where you say one thing and then tell me you’re kidding straight away.”

He shook his head. “Not this time. But hey, that’s a pretty good ice-breaker, right there.”

Fear for him shot through her. Fear and the faint memory of a fatalistic acceptance
she’d
experienced eight months ago. What must it be like to live every day knowing there was a mentally unhinged someone out there obsessed with you? “How can you make jokes about it?”

Josh shrugged. “It’s joke or lock myself away, denying myself life. And if I choose that route, the stalker’s won, yeah? Well, apart from doing…what he wants to do…to me.”

She stared at him, at a loss for what to say.

He let out a dry snort. “It’s no big deal. And he’s in the US and I’m here, so it’s all good. Of course, Mum is freaking out, so I better go placate her.”

“How long will you be gone?”

The question popped out of Caitlin’s mouth before her brain registered she’d said it. Heat flushed her cheeks. Oh man, she may as well take out a billboard stating she wanted to be with the guy.

The grin that pulled at Josh’s lips sent liquid tension straight to her core. “Missing me already?”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her breasts. On her shoulder, Fluffy sank his claws into her skin. “Don’t be absurd.”

“Wanna come with me?”

Prickling heat razed Caitlin’s body. It wrapped around her heart, sank into her belly. It unfurled like a blossoming bloom in her sex. It made her lips tingle. She stared at Josh, her breath caught in her throat.

He gave her a mock frown. “Unless you’ll get all starstuck and gooey over Dad, and if that’s the case, my poor ego couldn’t handle it.”

“Who’s your dad again?”

Josh’s joyous laugh reverberated all the way into Caitlin’s core. “I am
so
going to tell him you said that.”

She grinned. God, she hoped she was doing a good job of hiding her shock. Go somewhere with Josh Blackthorne? She’d never survive. Her promise to Matt wouldn’t survive.

She couldn’t go to Murriundah with Josh, no matter how much she wanted to. And she did. So much. Not to sleep with him, not to kiss him, but just to be with him and soak up the vibrancy and life he exuded.

Delight dancing in his grey eyes, Josh damn near quivered on the spot. “Excellent. I’ll go hire a car, tell Rhys we’re buggering off and be back in an hour to pick you up. Is that enough time?”

Numb pressure wrapping around her chest, Caitlin shook her head. “I can’t go with you, Josh. I’ve got to open the club tonight. And I’ve got no one to look after Fluffy.”

His charged excitement visibly drained from him. “Bring Fluffy,” he answered. “He can meet Baxter. And Zach can open the club.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “You know, for someone who’s only known me for less than twenty-four hours, you’re dishing out quite a lot of commands.”

He studied her a beat and then ducked his head. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Just got caught up in the moment, is all.”

Caitlin bit back a curse. Why did he have to do that? Be so damn…wonderful. Letting out a sigh, she held up a hand. “It’s okay. Our relationship isn’t exactly…normal.”

He smirked. “Our relationship? The one you said earlier we don’t have?”

She rolled her eyes and gave his chest a small shove. On her shoulders, Fluffy dug his claws in more, his precarious balance—given his three-legged state—unsettled by her sudden move. “Yeah, yeah. You’re very clever. Now go away.”

Smile wide, he staggered back a step, more to humour her than because she physically moved him, she suspected. “Let me take you out to dinner when I get back? No flirting. No kissing. Promise.”

Heat flooded Caitlin’s cheeks again at his words. Kissing. Huh. Seeing as it was
her
doing all the kissing, his promise didn’t really mean what it should.

Reaching up to scratch under Fluffy’s chin, she shook her head. “No.”

The open disappointment that etched Josh’s face turned her heart to a constricting vice.

“Let me cook you lasagna instead,” she finished.

He burst out laughing. “Deal.”

With that same fluid grace she couldn’t help but notice last night, he stepped toward her, his limp turning the move to a quirky lopsided lope.

She froze, her breath caught in her throat, her lips already anticipating the warm caress of his.

Instead, he scratched Fluffy under the chin and dropped her a wink. “See you when I get back.”

And with that, he turned on his heel and walked away.

Leaving Caitlin in the doorway of her bedroom.

Aching for a kiss that never came. A kiss she didn’t want him to give her.

Damn it.

Spinning on her own heel, she stormed into her bedroom, deposited Fluffy on her bed and snatched up the hand piece of the phone sitting on the bedside table. She dialed a number by memory, her pulse pounding in her ears as she waited for the connection to be made.

It finally happened. On the eighth ring, a voice she knew very well answered with usual efficiency. “Hello, this is Michael Gallagher, Federal Minister for Foreign Affairs.”

Closing her eyes, Caitlin perched her butt on the edge of her bed and let out a long slow breath. “Hi, Michael, this is Caitlin Reynolds. I’m wondering if you have any new news on Matt.”

Chapter Nine

He didn’t realize how long it took to drive from Murriundah to Sydney.

Actually, he did. He’d made the trip numerous times in fact. First when he was a country boy whose small school had been dedicated to making sure its students got to experience as much as a city student in a big school could. Then when he was representing the state in high school soccer and had to train every weekend in Sydney. And then when he’d finally moved to Sydney at the age of eighteen to begin his professional soccer career.

But
this
trip seemed to be taking forever.

After two days with his family, the drive back to Sydney was fraught with a tangled mess of conflicted confusion and desire.

He’d spent two days indulging every second he could with his little sister. Playing dragons and princesses with her, teaching her how to play the guitar. Hours spent helping her clean Baxter’s tank, playing soccer with her in his parents’ enormous backyard—oh boy, were
those
moments a big ball of bittersweet wonderful pain. Hours letting her beat him in checkers, Go Fish and—of all things—poker. Two days worth of all those moments added up to two days worth of wonderful euphoria. Two days he didn’t want to bring to an end.

He didn’t want to drive away from his mum and dad and sister, despite Nick’s ongoing lectures about the threat of a sexually unhinged stalker, and Lauren’s tangible fears for his safety. He didn’t want to leave them. It had been so long since he’d gotten to exist with them, he didn’t want that time to end now.

He didn’t want to go. Almost as much as he didn’t want to go another day without seeing Caitlin Reynolds.

It was that want, that urgent need, that made him climb into the Jag he’d hired in Sydney two days ago and point the car in the direction of the city.

To put it bluntly, he had to see her.

He’d called her both nights he was away, both times with some made-up, pathetic excuse of a reason. Both times it had gone straight to her message service.

She hadn’t called him back either time.

That wasn’t the reason for him breaking the speed limit now as he approached the outer limits of Sydney.

Well, not the sole reason.

He wanted to get out of this car, rub away the ache in his knee and see her smile. Even if he knew it wouldn’t be the kind of smile he wanted from her.

Any smile would do.

He’d take it.

Finally turning off the freeway, the thick sludge of Sunday afternoon Sydney traffic engulfing him in an instant, he rapped his fingers on the steering wheel.

In the time he’d been at Murriundah, not only had Zach Chapman called, telling him the night of his performance had been scheduled for the Saturday night three weeks from now, but Pepper had as well. As had Samuel, Levi and Jax. All had wondered what he was up to. They’d seen the footage of him with Caitlin on the sidewalk outside the Chaos Room. Their questions were telling. Pepper wanted to know if Caitlin was the reason for his request to perform at the club. Samuel wanted to know if Josh was prepared to thrust a girl into the public eye. Levi wanted to know if Josh realized Liev Reynolds—who Levi knew well—would break both Josh’s legs if Josh caused his niece any pain. Jax wanted to know what she kissed like.

He’d given all of them the same answer. She was engaged to a doctor, not interested in him, and to shut the hell up and stop leaping to conclusions.

It was Jax—ever the perceptive pain in the arse—who’d succinctly summed up their responses. “Bullshit. The sexual energy between you both bloody well melted my television.”

It didn’t help Josh’s peace of mind. Knowing it wasn’t just
him
convinced he and Caitlin had chemistry messed with his head even more.

He had to remind himself at least twice a day she was engaged to a doctor, even if Matt Corvin was missing.

Presumed dead.

He never let himself think of or dwell on those last two words. He couldn’t. If he did, he’d become what Caitlin so desperately didn’t need. A man who seduced her into his bed.

He wanted her there. Unequivocally and undeniably. But not because she couldn’t resist him, but because she wanted him. There wasn’t much separating the two, but he kept his mind locked on the gossamer-thin difference. For Caitlin’s sake and his own.

Navigating through the traffic, his tormented thoughts drowning out the AC/DC blasting from the car’s speakers, he damn near jumped out of his skin when his phone overrode the Jag’s sound system and filled the cabin with the theme music from
Adventure Time
.

He stabbed the button on the steering wheel that connected the call, for some reason both nervous and excited.

Was it Caitlin?

“Mr. Blackthorne?” Zach Chapman’s deep, rumbly voice emanated from the speakers. “Are you back in Sydney yet, sir?”

“Just got here, Zach,” Josh answered, taking the turn on his left. “What’s up?”

“The club’s closed tonight,” the Chaos Room’s second-in-charge said. “Figured you might want to take the opportunity to come in and check out the acoustics.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Josh took the next right. “But let me check with your boss first. She—”

“Is in Canberra,” Zach cut him in off, hesitation in his voice. “You didn’t know?”

A cold pressure clamped around Josh’s temples. “What is she doing in Canberra?”

Zach didn’t answer for a short moment, long enough for Josh to fill in his own answer—Matt has returned, she’s gone to meet him and the Prime Minister. The PM is going to give Matt the Merit of Australia for being the most courageous man alive. Caitlin and Matt are going to get married while there, the PM is going to officiate. Matt’s then going to rip open his shirt to reveal a red-and-yellow S and whisk Caitlin away to—

“There’s a new lead on the doctor,” Zach finally said. “A body unearthed in a Somali militant dumping ground. She flew down to Parliament House with Matt’s parents two nights ago. Hasn’t come back yet.”

The world swam. Josh’s blood roared in his ears.

For a second, he forgot how to drive and the Jag swerved to the right in its lane. A loud horn blared at him and, with a shout, he yanked the rental back under control.

Breath shallow, throat thick, he blinked, his grip on the steering wheel so tight his knuckles popped. “Is it Matt’s?”

“Looks that way. The government is waiting on more results.”

“Jesus.” Josh swallowed. His mouth was dry. His heart hammered. His gut churned.

A sickening wave of elation washed over him. He ground his jaw, disgusted at the reaction. Christ, what the fuck was wrong with him?

How goddamn self-absorbed could he be?

“Yeah,” Zach answered, concern ripe in the word. “Sorry, dude. I thought you may have known.”

Josh shook his head. “Nope.”

Silence stretched again. Longer this time. “Still want to do the performance?” Zach finally asked.

Pulling to a halt outside his destination, Josh stared through the window at Caitlin’s apartment building, at the windows on the right of the sixth floor he knew were the windows of her living room and her bedroom.

His whole upper body burned, with shame and guilt and disgust.

His head roared.

Turning away from Caitlin’s home, he let out a shaky sigh. “Fuck.” He gave a soft grunt. “I don’t know.”

“You told me you wanted to help raise money for Doctors Without Borders.” A hint of hostility cut Zach’s words. “Told me the reason for the performance was to help raise the public’s awareness of what the boss’s fiancé was doing before he was killed. Was that a lie?”

Josh shook his head, eyes closing. “No.”

“It’s your call, Mr. Blackthorne,” Zach went on, his voice softening…somewhat. “If the reason you were going to do it was to help Matt’s fellow doctors over there, then I can’t think of a better way to honour what he died for.”

Opening his eyes, Josh looked back up at Caitlin’s apartment. “You’re right. Three weeks from Saturday, you say?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Done. I’ll see you at the Chaos Room in a couple of hours.”

“See you then,” Zach answered, a second before AC/DC flooded the Jag’s interior again, signally the massive guy had ended the call.

Gut churning, Josh killed the engine, climbed from the rental and slammed the door shut behind him.

He stood on the footpath, studying the windows of Caitlin’s home.

He’d planned a surprise performance, a show that would go viral once the word got out. An unplugged concert that would shake the social networks and bring attention to the work of Doctors Without Borders.

But now, standing here in the glorious summer sun, his blood warm in his veins, his heart beating in his chest, breath in his lungs, he wondered if that was enough?

He was alive. The man Caitlin loved wasn’t.

And with Matt’s death, a part of her would forever be dead and cold as well.

He shoved his hand into his back pocket and withdrew his mobile phone, swiped his thumb over its screen and dialed a number he knew well. The number for a reporter renowned throughout the world for her cutting-edge brilliance and talent. A woman who knew his father well. The woman responsible for making his dad return to his mum. The woman who’d made Nick Blackthorne realize his life had no meaning without love.

On the fourth ring, the connection was made.

“Josh Blackthorne,” a husky woman’s voice tickled Josh’s ears, familiar and wonderful at once. “It’s about time you rang.”

He smiled, love and joy flooding his soul. “Heya, Mack. It’s been a while. How’s Aidan?”

Mackenzie Rogers, award-winning journalist, and the closest thing Josh had to an aunt, laughed on the other end of the line. “Not dealing well with retirement. I found him hosing down the grape vine in the backyard like they were on fire, grumbling the whole time about how was he meant to save
lives
with such low water pressure. I don’t know whose life he was saving, but I’m guessing by the fact I don’t have grapes in my fruit bowl right now, he failed.”

Josh laughed, even as the conflicted mess of joy and self-disgust continued to twist and fester in his gut. “Yeah, I can see him doing that.”

Mackenzie chuckled. “Want me to tell you he was doing in it nothing but red boxers and his old deputy captain’s helmet?”

“
No
,” Josh burst out, face aching from his smile.

“I’ve got the photos to prove it,” Mackenzie went on.

“Stop.” Josh shook his head, laughing. “Stop.”

“Can do,” Mackenzie answered. “But only if you tell me why you’re ringing. I know you rock stars well. You don’t do social calls.”

“Ouch.” Josh pouted.

“Said with love, boy. Said with love. Now spill, what do you want?”

“I want you to write an article.”

“Is that so? What about?”

Drawing a slow breath, Josh leant his arse on the bonnet of the Jag and gazed up at Caitlin’s home. “About Doctors Without Borders…and the charity performance I’m doing at the Chaos Room three weeks from now.”

The fog hadn’t left her.

Not on the flight back from Canberra after receiving the news her soul still couldn’t comprehend, nor on the taxi trip to Matt’s parents’ home, Matt’s mother weeping at her side, Matt’s father sitting stunned and silent on her other side.

It didn’t leave her as she sat with them in their dining room, listening to Elizabeth call Matt’s older brother and sisters to tell them what the Federal Minister for Foreign Affairs had finally—reluctantly—revealed to Caitlin and Matt’s parents in his office—that the decomposed body discovered in Somalia had been wearing Matt’s identification badge. The body had been found near the medical satchel Caitlin had given him as a going-away present, along with the remains of a Doctors Without Borders nurse from the same camp Matt had been working at.

“We’re here, Miss.”

Blinking at the fog, Caitlin swung her gaze to the man behind the wheel of the car she was in. When did she get in a taxi?

Where had the colour gone in the world?

Why did her head feel wobbly?

“We are ninety percent certain the body discovered is Matt’s.” The memory of the Federal Minister’s words whispered through Caitlin’s grief. “Of course, there are more results coming, and our people are working with the Somalia government to expedite those results, but at this point, it is my sad duty to inform you the Australian Government’s official stance is that Matt is dead. I’m so sorry for your—”

“Miss?”

Caitlin blinked, and for a moment the hazy greyness suffocating her vanished.

She looked at the driver frowning at her.

“That’ll be forty-two fifty.”

She fumbled for her purse. Dropped it. Plucked it from the floor beside her feet, opened it and slid out her credit card.

The driver took it, dubious apprehension in his eyes.

A few seconds later—or maybe it was a few hours, Caitlin couldn’t tell—he handed it back to her. “Want a tax receipt?”

The question lashed at her. Shaking her head, she flung open the door and tumbled free of the taxi’s interior. She had to get fresh air. She’d been stuck in small environments since she’d gotten the news—the taxi to the airport in Canberra, the plane, the taxi to Matt’s parents’ place, the taxi here…

Swinging her head about, she frowned at her surroundings. Why was she here?

Turning back to the taxi, she peered at him through the open front passenger-side window. “Why did you bring me here?”

Contempt twisted the driver’s lips. “You told me to.” And before she could respond, he tore away from the curb.

Straightening, Caitlin turned back to the building behind her.

The Chaos Room—closed at this time on a Sunday afternoon—sat amongst the other businesses, the sign above the main entry doors dark.

She stared at it, the fog sliding around her. Why had she told the driver to bring her here?

Because home is too painful? There are no images of Matt here, just a painting.

A sob lodged in Caitlin’s throat. Fresh pain splintered her heart.

She hadn’t realized how much she’d believed Matt was still alive until now. How much she’d wanted to see him again. Not to say goodbye, but to just
see
him. To smile at him and see him smile in return. And now she would never see him again, except in a photo long overdue to be taken from the wall.