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Caitlin couldn’t help but concentrate on the romance aspect. What would it take for Jake to see that she was serious about him? That she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him? That she’d go anywhere at any time with him and wouldn’t regret a thing just so long as they could be together?
‘Well, I’ve just been paid, so I’m okay for cash. As for romance, I…’ She fell silent.
‘Has something been going on?’
‘What do you mean?’ Leaning back against the plump pillows stacked against the padded headboard, Caitlin nervously wound a silken strand of burnished dark hair round her finger.
‘Are you having an affair with someone in the band? Wait a minute… I bet it’s with the manager, Jake Sorenson.’ Lia sounded emphatic. ‘It’s him, isn’t it?’
‘Next you’ll be telling me that you’re psychic.’
Smiling grimly at her own bad joke, Caitlin deliberately stalled for time. She had the beginnings of a headache and prayed that her friend wouldn’t start giving her a lecture on the wisdom—or lack of it—in pursuing a relationship with Jake. Besides, it was far too late for her to start taking advice on that particular subject.
‘That’s not good news. It may or may not be deserved, but the man has a certain reputation after that scandal with his ex. Are you looking for trouble, or what? You’re in a vulnerable situation as it is, and now you’ve gone and done possibly the worst thing you could do by getting involved with him! Oh, Cait…how could you?’
Shutting her eyes briefly tight, Caitlin slackened her hold on the phone, thought of Jake and the damage he could do to her heart with just a smile, and mused silently, How could I not?
* * *
‘I’ve been looking for you.’
Jake.
At the sound of that familiar low-pitched voice Caitlin almost broke out in a sweat. Hanging her coat more securely on the old-fashioned peg in the dressing room, from which the garment had just slipped for the third time, she turned slowly round to face him. Her gaze made electrically charged contact with his.
‘I popped out for some fresh air, but I’ve been here for about half of an hour,’ she told him.
With its gilded French-style furnishings, including a sumptuous gold couch, a chaise-longue, two matching armchairs and a chic glass-topped coffee table, the room that had been designated for the band was full of old-style glamour, making it quirkily appealing and atmospheric. The walls were covered in photographs and posters of the bands and musicians who had played there over the years—some extremely well known—and Caitlin had already spent several minutes studying them and marvelling at how fate had brought her there to perform.
But her attention was no longer on the room. Jake’s brooding presence was already making her feel feverish with need, and she didn’t think she could be any more intimately aware of him if she tried.
‘Rick’s just gone to the bar to get you a drink.’
‘Thanks.’ She agitatedly twisted the silver bangle she was wearing, then pushed her fingers through her hair. ‘It’s far too hot in here…don’t you think?’
He was smiling that roguish smile of his that could scramble her brain in a second and turn her limbs to damp strands of spaghetti.
‘It’s always hot when we’re in a room together, Caitlin… Don’t tell me you’ve never noticed?’
‘Yes. Well…’
‘By the way, you look sensational tonight.’
Jake’s glance couldn’t help but avidly home in on Caitlin’s figure. She was dressed from top to toe in black—bootcut jeans that clung lovingly to her slender thighs and a slim-fitting shirt cut high on the waist that dipped just low enough to give him a tantalising glimpse of her delectable cleavage.
Just thinking about the taste of that satin-smooth flesh when he kissed her, he had to suppress the compelling urge to lock the door behind them and keep her captive. He hoped that Kenny Swan would appreciate the supreme sacrifice he was making in letting Caitlin go out there to sing tonight.
‘I really hope there are no hard feelings between you and Rick.’
Jake shrugged. ‘Rick and I will sort things out. We always do.’
