Holding Caitlin against him was the most exquisite pleasure bordering on pain that Jake had ever experienced.
Already he was hurtling close to the edge of that self-imposed control. He knew he shouldn’t want her so much. This had disaster written all over it.
With a supreme test of will Jake slid his hands up to Caitlin’s shoulders, where he briefly let them linger. Then he gently but firmly moved her away. Her eyes instantly registered surprise and confusion, and Jake cursed himself for torturing them both.
‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ he murmured.
Caitlin bit her lip and inclined her head in a brief nod. Then she turned back, crossing her arms over her chest as if to protect herself. Her beautiful hair cascaded down her back like the most luxurious black silk and Jake ached with every fibre of his being to reach out and touch it. He had been captivated by women before, but not like this—never like this.
The day MAGGIE COX saw the film version of Wuthering Heights, with a beautiful Merle Oberon and a very handsome Laurence Olivier, was the day she became hooked on romance. From that day onwards she spent a lot of time dreaming up her own romances, secretly hoping that one day she might become published and get paid for doing what she loved most!
Now that her dream is being realised she wakes up every morning and counts her blessings. She is married to a gorgeous man and is the mother of two wonderful sons. Her two other great passions in life—besides her family and reading/writing—are music and films.
A Rule Worth Breaking
Maggie Cox
MILLS & BOON
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To Joy
You were and always will be one of the true lights of my life.
With love and affection,
Maggie x
Contents
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘WHAT DO YOU THINK?’ Unable to suppress the disagreeable sense of disappointment that was churning in his gut, Jake Sorenson glanced up at the stage at Rick—his ‘partner in crime’—who was all but wearing out the floor, pacing back and forth in his worn Cuban-heeled boots. The auditions weren’t exactly going well.
Rick abruptly stopped pacing to spear an exasperated hand through his dull gold hair. Studying Jake, he snapped, ‘What do I think? I think that Rosie Rhys-Jones, or whatever her name is, just isn’t good enough. God knows Marcie is a hard act to follow, but Rosie…’
‘Josie.’
‘Josie. Whatever…’ Scowling, Rick folded his muscular arms across his leather waistcoat and continued. ‘The woman would be fine on a cruise ship, entertaining folk with more money than taste, but she’s not lead vocalist material and that’s a fact. Bottom line is, Jake, I can’t see any of the singers we’ve heard so far fronting a potentially great band like Blue Sky—can you?’
In answer, Jake stared off into the distance. Mentally reviewing the past few auditions, he couldn’t help but agree. He returned his arresting blue gaze to his friend and the characteristic dimple that highlighted a rare smile appeared at the side of his mouth.
‘You’re right, of course. We’ll just have to keep on looking.’
Jake rarely elaborated. Not unless he absolutely had to. But he knew that when it came to making a decision ultimately the final say would be his. Although Rick had been in the music business even longer than he had—at the height of his career Jake had been one of the most successful record producers in the business—he knew that the other man valued his expertise and judgement.
‘Is there anyone left outside to see?’ Yawning as he rose to his feet, Jake stretched his arms high above his head. The movement made his shirt ride up several inches to reveal a taut flat stomach tapering into lean hips and long-boned thighs, currently encased in faded dark blue denim.
At the same time Rick expertly jumped off the stage and ambled across the dusty wooden floor to join him. ‘Not unless they’re lurking in the graveyard out there’ he joked.
He feigned an exaggerated shiver, his bemused expression conveying exactly what he thought about conducting auditions in an obscure village hall deep in the heart of rural England. But Jake knew that doing things this way at least afforded them a certain amount of privacy that wasn’t always possible in London.
The music press and tabloids were always keen to know what he was up to. He was the man who had famously brought several acts from the UK to prominence. But at the height of his career he’d been caught up in a destructive scandal that had cut short his seemingly unstoppable rise to the top when it hit the headlines. After that Jake had dropped out of producing and promoting bands to lick his wounds, reassess his life and reflect on