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On a more personal note, he loved to hear her sing those love songs—loved to hear the emotion in her voice that made all the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Those performances sent shivers down his spine. Not that he’d admit it to anyone—least of all to Rick, who seemed to be watching him like a hawk these days. He couldn’t exactly blame him. He was so sure that if Caitlin and Jake got together the result would be the break-up of the band.
Folding his arms across his chest, he released a frustrated sigh. He hated being in such a bind. But what the hell was he supposed to do? Ignore the feelings he had for her? The woman had got so deep into his blood that if he didn’t get his daily fix of her he felt as if someone had died. If Jake hadn’t know better he’d have sworn he was in—
Whoa. He reined in the thought with an accompanying sense of genuine panic.
‘Good crowd tonight.’
Suddenly Rick appeared beside him, depositing a dark pint of real ale into Jake’s hands with relish. Taking a deep draught of his own drink, he exhaled with pleasure, wiping the froth from his top lip with a grin.
‘I’ve been told by the barman that this stuff is like nectar. It certainly beats that pint of warm dishwater masquerading as alcohol that I had last night.’
‘I’ll take your word for it.’ Warily, Jake raised his glass to sample some of the dark brew for himself. As it slid down his throat the bitter taste of hops lingered unpleasantly in his mouth, confirming what he already knew to be true…he was no real ale aficionado. Give him a bourbon and Coke any day.
‘So, how do you think things are going?’ Rick asked, turning briefly to flash an irrepressible grin at a shapely blonde who’d walked by.
‘So far so good,’ Jake answered, his glance instinctively guarded. ‘The band sounds great, and Caitlin’s singing just gets better and better. We’re going to be getting more great reviews…it’s a given.’
‘Man, I bless the day she walked into that musty old church hall and her voice blew us away. The gods were smiling on us that day, that’s for sure.’
‘I agree.’
‘Hey, Jake, I hope you didn’t take my advice about not getting involved with Cait too personally. I mean, we’ve been friends for a long time. We’ve never let a woman come between us before.’
‘It was sound advice,’ Jake replied soberly.
‘Not that I blame you for being attracted to her. She sure is one beautiful woman, isn’t she?’
Taking another reluctant sip of his beer, Jake remarked, ‘You won’t get an argument from me.’
The lights suddenly dimmed, and amid the tangible air of expectation that rippled round the audience the band walked onto the stage.
Jake’s excitement was heightened along with everyone else’s, but the smile on his face quickly turned into a frown when he saw what Caitlin was wearing. In place of the long skirts and silky tops she’d been favouring since they’d started the tour she was dressed in black bootcut jeans that hugged her hips like a second skin and a stretchy little white top that emphasised her eye-catching chest.
The males in the crowd weren’t slow in demonstrating their appreciation. Jake did his best to try and shut out some of the more ribald comments. But with her flowing black hair, smiling green eyes and long legs, Caitlin was doing serious things to his blood pressure. He knew it was crazy, but he hated the mere idea that every red-blooded man in the room was fantasising about her. And underneath the hot, swift stab of jealousy that assailed him Jake felt a growing admiration for her daring. It seemed that Little Miss Hole-in-Her-Stocking was finally coming out of her shell.
Registering the looks of delight on the faces of the other band members as well as the crowd’s, Caitlin launched into a mesmerising rendition of an iconic blues number and Jake silently acknowledged that her talent was astounding. As he watched her hips sway sexily to the music, her little white top riding up almost to waist level, he didn’t think he’d ever felt so aroused or more hungry for a woman in his life.
* * *
Caitlin was quickly learning that after the almighty adrenaline rush of a live performance it was easy to crash down to the absolute depths shortly after. Now, alone in yet another hotel room—albeit a very luxurious one—with her room service supper left untouched on a tray, she sat in her pyjamas and robe with her head in her hands, feeling lonely and depressed.
