Blackthorne: Heart of Fame, Book 8 (6 page)

She watched him.

Observed him.

Until she found herself longing to be out there with him. Until she caught herself focusing on his lips…remembering what they felt like on hers. Wondering what they’d feel like kissing her with more passion.

More intent.

“Enough,” she growled, turning off the CCTV screens. Guilt seared through her veins. Knotted her belly. Wrapped her chest in a suffocating vice.

Hot, bleak guilt.

And desire.

Damn it.

Chapter Four

“Sure you don’t want another drink?”

Dragging his stare from the door leading out to the Chaos Room’s staff area, Josh gave Zach Chapman a grin. “I’m good. Thanks though.”

Caitlin’s second-in-charge let out a dry grunt. “Never met anyone who spends over fifteen grand buying drinks for a club full of complete strangers while only nursing one drink himself the whole night.”

Josh chuckled. “I’ve never really been one for getting wasted. Not a fan of the headache the next morning.”

Zach wiped dry a squat glass, lips twitching. “Ain’t that the truth.”

With another chuckle, Josh turned back to his vigil of the door. Surely she’d be walking through it soon.

“It was wonderful to meet you, Mr. Blackthorne.”

The soft female voice drew his attention and he smiled at the voluptuous blonde who’d been working the main bar with Zach. “You’re more than welcome. Thanks for putting up with me.”

She giggled, a throaty sound that spoke of an invitation waiting for him to accept. “Any time.”

She’d not only sent out cues during the night he could have his wicked way with her, she’d outright declared it as the last of the Chaos Room’s patrons exited the club. When the very last clubber walked through the main door, leaving just the staff and a sticky, coaster-littered floor behind, she’d leant across the bar, showing off her very impressive cleavage, and said, “I’m yours if you want me. And I have no inhibitions.”

He’d declined. It wasn’t that she wasn’t sexy or appealing or friendly, she just wasn’t—
Caitlin—
what he was in the mood for.

He was in the mood for some conversation. Maybe some lasagna.

And a full, plump bottom lip that felt like fucking heaven when you kissed…

“Here’s my number.” The barkeeper held up her hand now and stepped closer to him, a small piece of folded paper held between her index and middle fingers. Without breaking eye contact, she slipped those fingers—and the folded paper—between his waistband and lower stomach. “Call me whenever you want…anything.”

He sucked in a breath, his stomach hitching a little. “Thanks,” he said with a nod.

“You’re welcome,” she murmured, her eyes telling him exactly what
anything
entailed, she crossed the now swept and polished dance floor to the exit door, hips swaying with exaggerated seduction. She tossed him a come-hither smile over her shoulder, flicked her tongue along her top lip and left, the last of the Chaos Room’s staff to depart, save for Zach.

“That happen a lot?”

Josh turned back to the man behind the bar. “Every time I’m out in public.”

Zach shook his head. “Must be a tough life.”

Josh laughed at the sarcasm in the man’s comment. “Someone’s gotta do it though. Am I right? And playing soccer for a living damn near crippled me.”

Zach wiped dry another glass. “Wonder if it’s too late to change careers?”

“To become a rock star?”

“Yep.” Zach grinned at him. “Only trouble is, I can’t sing for shit.”

Josh laughed again. “Plenty of platinum-record holders out there that can’t sing.”

“Oh, in that case.” Zach deposited the towel on the counter with a slap and a smirk. “Reckon I’ll tell the boss I quit then.”

“That will be a shame, Zach. You’ll be sorely missed.”

At the sound of Caitlin’s husky voice behind him, Josh jumped.

He spun to face her, suppressing his excited grin. Telling himself to relax. To not appear too eager to see her.

He was though. Eager and nervous.

Nervous. Go figure.

Eyes of the most stunning azure regarded him. She stood in the middle of the dance floor, arms folded beneath her breasts. “I didn’t expect you to still be here, Mr. Blackthorne. You are aware the club is closed now, yes?”

He nodded, forcing himself to lounge back on his elbows. Crossing his ankles, he gave her a lazy smile. “I am.”

Behind the bar, Zach let out a snort. “Oh man, you’re asking for trouble.”

Caitlin arched an eyebrow. At her second-in-charge or at Josh’s goading, Josh wasn’t sure. She studied him, narrowing her eyes. “And you’re still here because…?”

“Because I promised your uncle I’d buy you a drink.”

“You did not.”

“Okay, he promised me you’d cook me dinner and I haven’t had anything to eat since halfway over the Pacific.” He affected a wounded-puppy expression. “C’mon, take some pity on me. I’m hungry.”

Her lips twisted. “Have a peanut. There’s a bowl right next to your elbow.”

He shook his head, holding her gaze. “Can’t. I’m allergic.”

Worry flittered across her face. “Really?”

He shook his head again. “No.”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t have time for this.”

“Why? What else do you have to do at—” he flicked his watch a quick glance, “—three-fifteen in the morning?”

Shifting her feet a little, Caitlin fixed him with a pointed gaze. “Go home. Have a shower. Go to bed.”

Josh nodded. “Okay, let’s do that.”

Her mouth fell open. A soft gasp filled the air between them. The most delightful pink tinged her cheeks. “Are you serious?”

Pushing himself from the bar, he shook his head for a third time. “No. But, boy, I love the way you’re blushing now.”

“Okay,” Zach uttered behind him. “I’m outta here. Boss, all that’s left to do is lock up. Mr. Blackthorne, you’re welcome back here any time.”

Josh couldn’t stop his chuckle as Caitlin gaped at her employee. “Thanks, Zach,” he said, bumping fists with the massive man.

“Excuse me, Zach?” Caitlin shoved her fists to her hips. Josh couldn’t help but notice how the move pulled the material of her T-shirt tighter across her full breasts. “Who owns the Chaos Room? You or me?”

“You do, boss,” Zach answered, walking from behind the bar. “But I’m charge of arranging special guests. One of the duties you assigned me when I became 2IC, right? And I’m thinking having Josh Blackthorne in the place is good for business. In case you didn’t notice, the queue to get in tonight was more than double a normal Thursday night. And the Chaos Room has been mentioned in over five hundred tweets since you and Mr. Blackthorne faced-off out on the footpath. Any way you look at it, that’s good for business.” He turned to Josh again. “As I said, Mr. Blackthorne, any time.” He leant a little closer to Josh and dropped his voice into a melodramatic conspirator’s whisper. “I’ll make sure Mandy doesn’t shove her hands down your pants next time.”

Watching Caitlin’s reaction to the statement, Josh grinned. There it was, a little flash of jealousy on her face. Booyah. “Thanks, mate,” he said, turning to Zach. He had no idea if the guy was intentionally helping him in his mission to get under Caitlin’s skin, but it seemed that way. Perhaps he should buy him a Ferrari to show his appreciation? “Is now the time to tell you the other barkeeper stuck his hand down my duds as well?”

A booming laugh left Zach as he slapped Josh on the back. “Ah, you’re on your own dealing with Travis. That guy’s a sex fiend.”

And with that, he gave Caitlin a nod, a relaxed, “Boss,” and crossed the dance floor, pausing only to open the door and exit through it. The solid thud of the slamming door echoed around the silence, emphasizing the fact Josh and Caitlin were now alone in the club.

Fresh nerves pitched about in his stomach. He shifted against the bar, switching ankles as he waited for Caitlin to do something. Say something.

She didn’t. She just stood on the spot, regarding him.

Tension stretched between them.

“So,” he said, grasping for his normal charm. “Come here often?”

Caitlin’s laugh surprised him. “I can see why my uncle likes you. You’ve got the same woeful sense of humour.”

“Hey?” He stuck out his bottom lip in a pout. Inside, his nerves intensified. God, she had a wonderful laugh. “I thought that was clever.”

She shook her head, rolled her eyes and made her way around to the business side of the bar. “That was clichéd. That’s what that was.”

Pivoting on his heel, Josh tracked her progress until she stood opposite him, the marble counter the only thing between them. “What are you doing?” he asked as she plucked two squat glasses from the rack of freshly dried ones left by Zach.

Without an answer, she turned her back to him, retrieved a bottle of Chivas Regal from the glass shelf that ran the length of the mirrored wall behind the counter and then faced him again. She removed the whisky’s cap, drew the glasses closer and poured in two shots.

Josh watched her, entranced. She moved with such fluid confidence and grace. It was hypnotic to watch. And fucking sexy as all hell.

Still without a word, she slid one of the glasses across the counter to him, her gaze moving to his. “That’ll be twenty-two fifty.”

He chuckled. “So this is me buying you a drink, is it?”

Her lips twitched again. “It is if it means you’ll drop the ridiculous notion Uncle L has planted in your head that you and I should hook up.”

He wrapped his fingers around the glass and raised it from the counter, studied its contents for a bit and then gave her a smirk. “Is that what’s in my head?”

“It is. And it’s not going to happen.” Without breaking eye-contact, she plucked the other glass from the bar and chinked it against his. “Cheers.”

She lifted the glass to her lips and swallowed its entire contents in a single swallow.

Josh felt his groin tighten. Felt his balls grow heavy. “Why?”

Placing her drained glass on the counter, she studied him. “You’re not my type.”

“Is that right?”

She nodded.

“And what type is your type?” he asked, raising his own drink.

“Someone grounded,” she answered, circling the rim of her glass with a fingertip. Her lips glistened with the residue of the whisky. Christ, he wanted to kiss them. Or lick them. Bite them. All three, in fact. “Someone not so self-absorbed. Someone less cocky. Someone altruistic.”

Lifting his glass the rest of the way to his lips, he fixed her in a level gaze. “Sounds boring,” he said before throwing back his head and emptying his glass.

The liquor burnt a path straight through his throat. It was nothing compared to the heat he was feeling in the pit of his belly, in his groin.

Hell, he hadn’t been this aroused by a woman since…well, since he first saw Caitlin’s photos in Chris Huntley and Liev Reynolds’s LA home.

Returning his gaze to her face, he bit back a curse. A flinty light filled her eyes, the same disdainful reproach he’d seen there twice already.

He’d fucked up somehow. And he thought their flirting was going so well. What had he said?

“Being a good person isn’t boring,” she said, turning away from him with their empty glasses. “Just like being a famous one isn’t a guaranteed way into a girl’s pants.”

She yanked open a dishwasher, deposited the two glasses in there with savage force and slammed the dishwasher shut. “There,” she said, turning back to him, glare firmly in place. “You’ve bought me a drink. Now you can leave.”

Chest heavy, Josh frowned. “I’ve said something to offend you.”

Her glare grew darker. An unreadable emotion flared in her eyes.

He pressed his elbows on the bar and leant towards her, wanting her to see the sincerity in his face. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to hear you laugh again.”

With a ragged sigh, Caitlin scrunched up her face and rubbed her hands at it. Her shoulders slumped. So did her spine for just a moment. “
I’m
sorry,” she said, lowering her hands to gaze at the counter. “I’m not good with…this.”

“This?”

She lifted her attention to him, her smile wobbly. Uncertain. “This…interacting with men.”

Josh’s lips curled. “You mean flirting?”

A dry laugh fell from her. She shook her head, rolled her eyes and held out her hand to him, palm up. “We are not flirting. You are trying to seduce your way into my bed. I am trying to make it clear that’s never going to happen.” She wriggled her fingers. “Now cough it up. Twenty-two bucks fifty.”

Drawing away from the bar, he patted his back pockets. “I don’t have my wallet on me.”

Confusion and disbelief pulled at her eyebrows. “Then how the hell did you pay for all the drinks you bought for my patrons tonight?”

Ducking his head, he offered her a sheepish grin. “Kidding.” He pulled his wallet from his back pocket, withdrew his credit card and held it out to her.

She looked at it. Studied it for a long moment.

Didn’t take it.

A thick pressure wrapped Josh’s chest. “You know what I could go for right now?” he said, leaning back on the bar again as he tapped the edge of his credit card on the marble surface. “A Harry’s Tiger. Do they still serve those at Harry’s Café de Wheels down on the corner of Cowper Wharf Roadway? Those meat pies covered in mash potato, mushy green peas and gravy?”

Expression unreadable, Caitlin nodded. “They do.”

Josh smiled. “What do you think? Want to share one with me?”

She frowned. Her teeth worried her bottom lip.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he said. “You share a pie with me at Harry’s tonight, I mean, this morning, now, and you don’t have to make me lasagna later.” He let his smile stretch a little wider. “What do you think? It’s win-win for you. You can tell your uncle you fed me one night without lying and I’ll stop harassing you in a futile attempt to get into your pants. How’s that sound?”

Pinching her bottom lip with her thumb and forefinger, she studied him, a contemplative light in her eyes. “I think that’s doable.”

Excitement sheared through Josh, but he tempered it with a low chortle. “I’m all about doable.”

She laughed. “Seriously?”

He pulled a mock look of indignant shock. “What?”

A smile played with her lips. “I’m just going to get my bag.”

“Okey dokey.”

She sniggered as she rounded the end of the bar and walked towards the private
door on the other side of the dance floor. “What kind of rock star says okey dokey?”

He preened. “This kind.”

Her laugh wafted back to him, full of relaxed life and humour.

It was her laugh that made Josh move. Made him propel himself from the bar and follow her across the polished wooden floor, despite the dull ache in his knee and her assurances she didn’t want him. Her laugh and the simmering passion for life he heard in it. It was the first time he’d heard such intoxicating emotion from her and it stirred him.