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‘Look, I really need to go and put some clothes on. If you wait here I’ll make us some coffee once I’m dressed and then we can talk.’
Jake smiled. She was gazing at him as though hypnotised. As she studied him her bewitching emerald eyes were dazzled—glazed, almost. Whatever she felt about him, she couldn’t deny there was a combustible attraction between them. And he couldn’t think of another woman who had the ability to send his pulse sky-rocketing and his libido raging with just a simple glance.
It wasn’t just her beauty that drew him to her. There was a refreshing innocence about Caitlin. Having met so many women whose hunger for fame and success made them employ any means possible to get what they wanted—his ex-wife being a case in point—he found Caitlin was like a breath of fresh air. Jake had never wanted a woman more in his life…wanted her with an ache that was the sweetest agony from the moment he woke up in the morning to when he lay down to sleep at night.
‘Good. Because it won’t go away,’ he continued. ‘Sooner or later we’re going to have to deal with it.’
Caitlin’s already pink cheeks flushed even pinker. Then she turned and fled into the bedroom to get dressed.
Sighing, Jake dropped down onto the squashy red sofa, picked up a cushion, then angrily jettisoned it onto the floor. Just what the hell did he think he was doing? He’d called in on her because he’d wanted to apologise for being so uncompromising at rehearsals, but as soon as he’d set eyes on her in that innocent terry robe of hers he’d known immediately that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath it. Somehow his rigidly imposed self-control had gone out of the window and all he’d been able to think about was how soon he could get her into bed.
He wanted to bury himself so deep inside her he’d assuage every ache he’d ever had…hers too. Yes, he’d had the odd one-night stand since Jodie had done the dirty on him—how else could he satisfy a healthy libido—but nothing could have prepared him for a hunger so primal, so insatiable, that it threatened to consume him body and soul if it wasn’t satisfied.
Dragging his fingers through his hair, Jake slowly shook his head. To add to his frustration Caitlin’s provocative scent lingered in the room, tormenting him. Where was she, for goodness’ sake? How long did it take to throw some clothes on? Longer than it would take him to tear them off that was for sure…
Restless, he got to his feet, his long legs taking him to the other side of the room and back again as he paced the floor. The living room was ridiculously small—almost oppressively so. A few family photos sat on the mantelpiece, along with a small glass jar full of assorted coloured crystals.
Jake was far too distracted to examine the photographs more closely, so he turned away to survey the rest of the room. A large pine bookcase dominated an entire wall, and there wasn’t a shelf on it that wasn’t crammed to bursting point with books. He barely stole a glance at the titles he was so keyed up, but he couldn’t fail to notice that most of the literature dwelt on self-development or philosophy.
Had Caitlin been interested in those subjects before or after her catastrophic relationship with the drug addict? Jake was curious. Clearly she must have been driven to seek out some sort of guidance after such an ordeal. Somehow he felt chastened. Living with a drug addict and alcoholic would certainly be no picnic. He himself had had friends and associates who’d been drawn down a similar destructive route. He’d told Caitlin that the music business was full of such casualties.
But she’d confessed to him that she’d lost everything, including her home. That must surely be the reason why she was living in this rabbit hutch. Jake would go stir crazy, living in such a confined space. Being the grateful owner of spacious homes in London, New York and LA—which were admittedly empty most of the time, due to his peripatetic lifestyle—he doubted he would manage even half as well if he had to live the way Caitlin did. Even his room at the quaint Pilgrim’s Inn was three times the size of this one.
Without realising it, his hands had curled into fists down by his sides.
