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

think you liked it as much as I did.”
    The pit of Caitlin’s belly tightened. Her pussy contracted again. Grinding her teeth, she leveled a glare his way. “Even if I did like it, and I’m not saying that’s the case, you can’t just come back here to my office and kiss me like that.”
    He smirked. Already she both hated and loved the expression. Hated the way it said he knew how hot he was, loved the way it made his lips curl and his eyes fill with devilish conceit. “Why not?”
    She opened her mouth. Behind her, wafting from the speakers of her iPod’s dock, Beethoven’s “7th Symphony” gave way to Bach’s “Toccota and Fugue in D Minor”. “Because you can’t,” she offered as an answer. As answers go, it was a lame one, but somewhere between opening her office door to discover him there and his lips brushing over hers in the most tender, sensitive kiss she’d ever experienced, she’d lost higher brain function.
    The chuckle that slipped from Josh twisted the tension in Caitlin’s core to a heavy knot.
    “Give me a reason.”
    Caitlin stared at him. A reason. There was only one reason why he couldn’t kiss her. One reason. But that reason…well, it was pretty well messed up. And strange…
    “I tell you what,” he said with an easy grin before she could put words to the pain and confusion wanting to spread through her at the thought. Could he see she was uncomfortable? Unsettled? “I won’t kiss you again if you promise to have a drink with me.”
    “I can’t. I’m working.”
    That’s your answer, girl? Not because you have a—
    “When you finish work.”
    She looked up at him. He still grinned at her, a boyish playfulness about him. If she didn’t know he was one of the world’s hottest rock stars, she could easily believe he was just a sexy guy trying to flirt with a girl. “I don’t finish work until the club closes,” she answered.
    Before she could say another word, he nodded. “Done. I’ll see you then.”
    He spun on his heel and wandered down the corridor, hands loose by his side, a very subtle limp in his relaxed step.
    Caitlin stared after him, her cheeks on fire, her lips tingling. Why hadn’t she told him she wasn’t having a drink with him? Why hadn’t she given him the reason why she didn’t want him to kiss her?
    Behind her, Bach’s epic piece turned into Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata”. The dark piano masterpiece caressed her senses, a brilliant mirror to her mood. And yet a part of her felt…different. Less grumpy. Less moody and alone. Which made no sense, given nothing had changed to make her feel that way.
    Nothing except a kiss from the sexiest guy you’ve ever met.
    Caitlin watched Josh Blackthorne twist the knob of the door leading back out to the nightclub floor, her breath shallow. She shouldn’t watch. She shouldn’t linger, waiting to see if he turned around.
    He pulled the door open and stepped out into the thumping cacophony of dance music and partying patrons that drowned out Beethoven.
    Caitlin’s chest grew tight. A disappointed weight settled in her stomach.
    Why had she expected him to turn around? Why had she wanted him to turn around? To see if she was watching—
    He turned.
    Their stares met. Clashed. Melded.
    He dropped her a wink, grinned as if loving that he’d caught her watching him, and then pulled the door closed behind him.
    Leaving her alone in the corridor, Beethoven’s sonata competing with the wild beating of her heart.
    Scrunching up her face, Caitlin bunched her fists. “Damn it.”
    Busted for perving on him. There was no other word for what she’d been doing. She hadn’t needed to watch him go, hadn’t needed to check out the way he walked down the corridor with such innate grace and confidence, despite the slight limp from his old soccer-career-ending injury. She sure as hell hadn’t needed to take note of how hot his arse looked in his snug black pants. But she had. And he’d caught her.
    Which meant