Blackthorne: Heart of Fame, Book 8 by Lexxie Couper Read Free Book Online

his hands into his back pockets and gave her a puzzled frown. “You really are hell-bent on being horrible to me, aren’t you?”
    She waved her hand in a so-so motion. “Possibly. Or maybe I’m just this horrible to everyone?”
    Josh shook his head, letting his own smile pull at his lips. Not his usual smirk, the one he used when being interviewed or photographed. The one that said he knew all the filthy ways to make a woman come and if a woman was lucky he’d demonstrate them to her. His real smile. The one he gave his sister when she asked him to play fairy tea parties with her. “See, I would have believed that after our footpath standoff, but now I know that’s not the case.”
    She cocked an eyebrow, crossed her arms under her breasts and leaned her shoulder against the doorjamb. Josh couldn’t miss the fact the edges of her lips still danced. A little. Nor the fact she hadn’t closed the door in his face.
    Progress. Go me!
    “How so?” she asked, that enigmatic glint still in her eyes. He couldn’t decipher it. Was it mirth? Sarcasm? Or pre-garroting tolerance?
    Risking his solar plexus, he rested his elbow to the doorframe just above her head and let his smile grow wider as he drew his head closer to hers. “I was threatened with physical violence by one of your staff. A horrible person doesn’t gain that kind of protective loyalty.”
    She held his gaze, her face turned up to his, her chin titled. “Is that so? Perhaps I pay them well?”
    Josh shook his head again. “Not well enough to risk threatening a celebrity.”
    “Ahh, and there it is.” Her smile stretched wider, becoming sardonic and cutting. Her eyes grew flinty once more, filled with the same disdain he’d seen out on the street when she’d refused to believe he was who he said he was. “The arrogance of fame. I should have known I’d see it again. Ask me again why I’m being so horrible to you.”
    Josh couldn’t help himself. He burst out laughing. “Wait a minute,” he said, levering from the doorframe. “You didn’t like me out on the street when you thought I was a hot-looking nobody pretending to be someone famous, and now you don’t like me because I am someone famous?” He tapped his index finger on the tip of her nose. She blinked, his unexpected contact obviously taking her completely unawares. “I think you’re prejudice against hot-looking guys whether they are famous or not.”
    His jesting rebuke hung on the air between them, both playful and pointed.
    He arched his own eyebrow in a show of quizzical patience. “Well?”
    With a ragged sigh, Caitlin rolled her eyes and threw up her hands. “You got me. I’m only nice to ugly people. Which you, clearly, are not. So go away now.” She waved her fingers at him in a sweeping gesture. “Shoo.”
    The tiny twitch of the corners of her lips gave her away. A warm rush of delight rushed through Josh. For that very brief moment, she was enjoying herself with him.
    Yay. Now how did he capitalize on it?
    “I tell you what,” he said, refusing to budge or release her gaze. “If I promise to whack my face against the wall a few times, maybe break my nose and bruise up my cheek, even give myself a swollen eye and a split lip, will you let me buy you dinner? Or a drink?”
    She raised both her eyebrows up her forehead. Her lips danced some more.
    Oh yeah, he was winning her over. Excellent.
    “That wall?” she asked, leaning toward him a little as she pointed at the concrete-block wall beside her office door.
    He nodded.
    She grinned. A real one. He could see the laughter in it, and in her blue eyes. Fuck, it turned her from standoffishly beautiful to steal-his-breath stunning. “Go for it. Let’s see if you earn yourself just a drink or dinner as well.”
    Josh returned her grin. “Deal.”
    And then, with a laugh, he threw himself at the wall.

Chapter Three
    Oh God, he did it.
    Caitlin squealed, the shock of watching Josh Blackthorne—rock-god Josh