he would now think he really did stand a chance of scoring another kiss when they went for drinks.
When they went for drinks? Seriously?
Throwing up her hands, she stormed back into her office. “God, what are you thinking, Caitlin? You are not going for drinks with him.”
That would be insane. That would be lunacy. And above all else, what with what her friends and family and the Australian High Commissioner in Somalia believed, that would be…awkward.
A shard of guilt shot through her, so fierce and powerful she staggered to a halt, palm pressed to her chest. Damn it.
Sucking in a slow breath, her pulse crazy, her heart aching, she crossed to her desk and dropped herself into her chair.
“Damn it,” she whispered, staring at the spotless polished steel surface of her desk. “Damn it, Matt, why…”
No. She wasn’t going to think about this. She wasn’t.
What she was going to do was call her uncle and give the matchmaking bloody bastard a piece of her mind.
Snatching up her iPod dock’s remote, she pressed mute. Silence fell over her office like a suffocating shroud. Good. She wanted to be grumpy. With a grunt, she leaned forward, grabbed the hand piece of her work phone from its cradle and stabbed in her uncle’s Los Angeles home phone number.
He answered on the fifth ring. “G’day. Liev Reynolds here.”
“Do you realize what you’ve done,” she burst out, dispensing with any pleasantries. She’d already talked to the bastard once tonight and she’d been quite pleasant then. Sort of. Maybe…
“Made the most delicious bacon, banana and Vegemite toasted sandwich ever?” her uncle asked, laughter in his voice. “I do realize that. How did you know? Can you smell it all the way from Australia?”
“Giving Blackthorne my place of work,” she shot back, ignoring his joke. She never ignored Liev’s jokes. They always had the ability to make her smile and feel warm inside, even when she was feeling dead. In fact, she couldn’t recall the last time she’d been angry with her uncle. Maybe, when she was fourteen and he’d come out. She’d been angry with him for being so calm with her stubborn, bigoted father who’d refused to have anything to do with his brother again and expected Caitlin to do the same. “Now the guy thinks it’s totally okay to just swoop on into my office, disrupt my life, ask me for drinks and kiss—”
She stopped. Froze. Stared at the massive abstract painting on the far wall of her office.
Oh God, had she just said—
“Kiss you?” her uncle asked, disbelief etched with mirth in his voice.
“Err…” She squeezed her eyes shut, dropped her head to her fist and thumped her forehead a few times. She hadn’t planned to say that. Why had she said that?
Because you can’t stop thinking about it. Because you liked it. And you can’t stop feeling guilty about liking it.
“Am I right, kiddo?” Liev prompted on the other end of the connection. “Did Josh Blackthorne kiss you?”
She thumped her forehead with the side of her fist three more times and then nodded. “Yes.”
“Did you like it?”
“Uncle L!” She let out an exasperated argh . “That’s not the point. You told him to look me up, you told him I’d cook him dinner and now he’s here at my club disrupting my life and I want you to tell him to go away.”
“Why?”
Caitlin raised her eyebrows. “Why? Because he won’t listen to me.”
“No, I mean why do you want him to go away? I know Josh quite well, kiddo. And trust me, he’s a nice bloke. A really nice bloke. I wouldn’t have given him your number—”
“You gave him my number ?”
“I wouldn’t have given him your number if he was a wanker, would I?”
“No. You wouldn’t. But I want him to go away because he kissed me.”
Liev’s laughter tickled her ear. “And that’s a problem because…?”
“Because I’m engaged ,” she ground out.
“No,” her uncle’s deep voice rumbled in her ear. “You’re
When they went for drinks? Seriously?
Throwing up her hands, she stormed back into her office. “God, what are you thinking, Caitlin? You are not going for drinks with him.”
That would be insane. That would be lunacy. And above all else, what with what her friends and family and the Australian High Commissioner in Somalia believed, that would be…awkward.
A shard of guilt shot through her, so fierce and powerful she staggered to a halt, palm pressed to her chest. Damn it.
Sucking in a slow breath, her pulse crazy, her heart aching, she crossed to her desk and dropped herself into her chair.
“Damn it,” she whispered, staring at the spotless polished steel surface of her desk. “Damn it, Matt, why…”
No. She wasn’t going to think about this. She wasn’t.
What she was going to do was call her uncle and give the matchmaking bloody bastard a piece of her mind.
Snatching up her iPod dock’s remote, she pressed mute. Silence fell over her office like a suffocating shroud. Good. She wanted to be grumpy. With a grunt, she leaned forward, grabbed the hand piece of her work phone from its cradle and stabbed in her uncle’s Los Angeles home phone number.
He answered on the fifth ring. “G’day. Liev Reynolds here.”
“Do you realize what you’ve done,” she burst out, dispensing with any pleasantries. She’d already talked to the bastard once tonight and she’d been quite pleasant then. Sort of. Maybe…
“Made the most delicious bacon, banana and Vegemite toasted sandwich ever?” her uncle asked, laughter in his voice. “I do realize that. How did you know? Can you smell it all the way from Australia?”
“Giving Blackthorne my place of work,” she shot back, ignoring his joke. She never ignored Liev’s jokes. They always had the ability to make her smile and feel warm inside, even when she was feeling dead. In fact, she couldn’t recall the last time she’d been angry with her uncle. Maybe, when she was fourteen and he’d come out. She’d been angry with him for being so calm with her stubborn, bigoted father who’d refused to have anything to do with his brother again and expected Caitlin to do the same. “Now the guy thinks it’s totally okay to just swoop on into my office, disrupt my life, ask me for drinks and kiss—”
She stopped. Froze. Stared at the massive abstract painting on the far wall of her office.
Oh God, had she just said—
“Kiss you?” her uncle asked, disbelief etched with mirth in his voice.
“Err…” She squeezed her eyes shut, dropped her head to her fist and thumped her forehead a few times. She hadn’t planned to say that. Why had she said that?
Because you can’t stop thinking about it. Because you liked it. And you can’t stop feeling guilty about liking it.
“Am I right, kiddo?” Liev prompted on the other end of the connection. “Did Josh Blackthorne kiss you?”
She thumped her forehead with the side of her fist three more times and then nodded. “Yes.”
“Did you like it?”
“Uncle L!” She let out an exasperated argh . “That’s not the point. You told him to look me up, you told him I’d cook him dinner and now he’s here at my club disrupting my life and I want you to tell him to go away.”
“Why?”
Caitlin raised her eyebrows. “Why? Because he won’t listen to me.”
“No, I mean why do you want him to go away? I know Josh quite well, kiddo. And trust me, he’s a nice bloke. A really nice bloke. I wouldn’t have given him your number—”
“You gave him my number ?”
“I wouldn’t have given him your number if he was a wanker, would I?”
“No. You wouldn’t. But I want him to go away because he kissed me.”
Liev’s laughter tickled her ear. “And that’s a problem because…?”
“Because I’m engaged ,” she ground out.
“No,” her uncle’s deep voice rumbled in her ear. “You’re
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