The Rock Star's Wedding

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The Rock Star's Wedding Page 17

by Demelza Carlton


  Xan sighed. "No, they're not from Target. I bought them in Melbourne at one of those designer outlet places. They suited my dress, so I wore them."

  "I didn't come here to talk about shoes, Xanthe. I'm here to talk about last night."

  Last night we danced and kissed and it was so potent it infused my dreams, Xan thought but didn't say. Instead, she said. "What's to talk about? Your friend got married, we all drank too much, did things we regret and would like to forget, and now it's time to clean up the mess and go back to normal life. I should go see what the damage is to the new deck."

  "You want to forget last night?" Hurt hooded Jason's eyes.

  "Of course I do. Don't you? Weddings are like fireworks. One night when everything seems to burn a bit brighter, but it's just an illusion. In daylight, there's nothing there." Xan forced herself to shrug. She couldn't look at him. One more moment of looking into those eyes and she'd give in and kiss him again. She had to get away from him. And the resort. But mostly from him.

  "Bye, Jason. Thanks for the shoes."

  She pushed the door shut, then sank onto the sofa, her head in her hands.

  Only an idiot fell in love with her boss. Last night she'd become that idiot. But she wouldn't stay that way for long. She'd run far and fast, somewhere he wouldn't come searching for her. Because that was what Jason did – he just forgot about his girl of the moment and moved onto the next. He didn't chase girls. Didn't even ask them on a date.

  She'd be crazy to consider a relationship with him. That's why she was considering a job on the other side of the country instead. Much smarter.

  FORTY-NINE

  Xan hoped the coffee she clutched to her chest would be what she needed to cure the worst case of Monday-itis she'd ever known. She'd barely slept all weekend. Since...

  Since she'd stupidly kissed her boss.

  She slammed the cup down on her desk and woke up her computer. Was it too soon to hope for a reply from Sydney? It was almost lunchtime over there now, and if they were really as eager as they'd said to have her manage their hotel...

  But the email hadn't sent yet – it was still sitting there in her outbox, waiting to go. What in hell?

  Communications were still down for that bloody wedding, Xan realised, closing her eyes. She'd have to call Villa Akoya and hope the honeymooners answered the phone. Like that would happen. But she'd agreed to keep the satellite dish switched off until the bride gave the all clear. Now there was another stupid thing she'd done. She should have insisted the bride's father or someone else who wasn't engaged in a marathon sex orgy right now be able to call off the communications blackout. How could she possibly get any work done without internet and phones? She'd thought last week was bad. Five minutes in and today was already shaping up to start the week from hell.

  "Good morning," an impossibly cheerful voice announced.

  Xan stared. What was the bride doing out of bed? Wasn't she on her honeymoon?

  The grinning girl in a singlet top and shorts didn't seem fazed by her silence. "I thought you'd like to know that my cousins flew out at dawn, so all your phones and internet should be working again. At least, that's what your IT department told me. You might want to follow up on that yourself, of course."

  Xan found her voice. "Thanks. I will."

  "You'll probably be pleased to know that most of the wedding guests will be flying out today, so you'll only have Nathan and I here for the rest of the week. In case you want to reduce your staff numbers or anything," the girl continued. "Oh, but I'd appreciate if you kept the kitchen open. Damned if I'm cooking on my honeymoon."

  "All right," Xan ventured. She'd heard so many names for the bride that she wasn't sure which one to use any more. It was like watching Kill Bill for the first time. Idly, she wondered if this girl owned a samurai sword. It wouldn't surprise her at all.

  "Thank you." The girl stuck out her hand. "Truly, thank you. I know this wedding wasn't easy for you to host, but you've done a masterful job. Except for the hiccup with the fireworks, which I'm assured were entirely Jason's idea, everything ran almost perfectly. Both my cousins and my security consultant were impressed, and it takes a lot to do that. I'm sure they'll be recommending your hotel to other high profile clients, so be prepared for more unusual bookings."

  Don't touch her. Jason's warning rang in Xan's head, making her hesitate when normally she'd have shaken the girl's hand. Now, she eyed the outstretched fingers, wondering whether the girl's other hand was wrapped around her hunting knife.

  The girl gave a little snort of laughter, her dark eyes reading Xan's soul, or so it seemed. "I'm unarmed today. There's no threat on your island I need a knife for now, or so my security assures me."

  Her hand felt so delicate in Xan's, though Xan's hands were hardly huge. Xan was scared to exert too much pressure or she might crush the delicate bones.

  "Good to know, Doctor," Xan managed to say.

  "You can call me Caitlin. My friends and family do."

  Xan nodded. She doubted she'd see the girl again after this week, but it was nice to put a name to her.

  "And this is yours. A more...material thank you than words can convey." Caitlin lifted a gift bag onto the desk. One of the big, expensive ones from the pearl farm.

  "I can't accept this," Xan insisted, pushing the bag away.

  "Of course you can." Caitlin's eyes darkened as her voice hardened. "The rest of your staff will receive cash bonuses as a token of my thanks, but Jo and Jason insisted you wouldn't accept money, even though you did more than anyone else. Jason said he'd take you into a jewellers to find something suitable that you would accept." Her voice turned more frightening still. "If he's lied to me and you don't like it, let me know. I'll write you a cheque for the value so you can spend the money on something you do like."

  Great. If she didn't like it, Jason would be in trouble. "I'm sure I'll love it," Xan said hastily, racking her brain to work out when she'd ever been in a jeweller's shop with Jason, and what she'd seen that she liked. She stifled a gasp as she realised there was only one item Jason had ever seen her admire.

  The ring. Gold and coral and pearls, like something plucked from the lagoon. Holding her breath, Xan peered into the bag. No, the box was much too big to be the ring. Surely they hadn't bought her a string of pearls? Those things cost a fortune. She couldn't accept a gift like that.

  She withdrew the box, closing her eyes as she opened it. She had to find a diplomatic way of refusing the girl's gift. Without getting Jason killed or maimed or whatever Caitlin had threatened him with.

  "It's certainly unusual, but I like it," Caitlin commented.

  Pearl strands weren't unusual.

  Xan's eyes snapped open. Her jaw dropped, too. "Wow."

  Not the ring. This made the ring pale into insignificance.

  The necklace glowed in pale gold, shaped into delicate coral strands much like the ring or the bombies in the lagoon. Where the ring had only one pearl, this had more than a dozen, set among the coral like the jewels they were. The earrings were smaller versions of the ring, inset with pearls like the necklace.

  "It's beautiful," Xan breathed, wanting to touch it but not sure if she should. Her hand hovered over the masterpiece of jewelcrafting that she'd never seen in the pearl farm's showroom.

  "So you like it, then?" Caitlin asked.

  Not sure of her voice, Xan nodded.

  "Good. That's settled, then. Now, another matter." Caitlin crossed the room and closed the door, before returning to perch on the client's seat across from Xan. "While I understand your hotel has a reputation for respecting guest privacy, what I'm about to say now cannot leave this room. Do you understand?"

  Xan wet her lips. "Will I get to leave this room?"

  Caitlin laughed. "Yes. But if you ever repeat what I tell you, you may wish you hadn't."

  "Because you'll have to kill me?" Xan quipped.

  Caitlin shook her head. "Oh, not me. You're not a threat to me, and I'd hate to see someo
ne who Jason cares about so deeply hurt for being careless. My past is bigger than just me, and others who are involved...are more...ah, risk-averse than I am."

  Xan put the vague statements together. "You're about to tell me things that could get me killed, if other people know I know them."

  "Perhaps. I suspect Jason has told you enough misinformation to place you in danger anyway, though. Allow me to set the record straight?"

  Surreal. Like something out of a spy movie. Yet Xan found herself nodding. If she was in danger already, what did she have to lose?

  "First, remove your wristband. There will be no recording of this conversation," Caitlin instructed. She took both her and Xan's ID bands and shut them in the bottom drawer of Xan's filing cabinet. Then she returned to her seat and said, "I saw you watching us on our wedding night. During the fireworks."

  "I did," Xan admitted, not sure what else to say.

  "What did you see?" Caitlin enquired.

  "He didn't know. Jason thought he was doing you a favour, because you liked fireworks. He had no idea what effect it would have on your husband." Xan took a deep breath. "Honestly. He was gutted that you didn't like them."

  Caitlin blinked, her face blank, not giving anything away. "I meant when you looked at us, not Jason."

  Xan closed her eyes, trying to remember the scene. Before champagne had clouded her judgement. "I saw you both startle as the first fireworks went off. Then he pushed you to the ground and shielded your body with his until you managed to persuade him to get off you."

  Caitlin nodded slowly. "Accurate, or mostly. Do you know why he did it?"

  "Post-traumatic stress disorder, I imagine, from some violence in his past. Does he do that often?"

  "Throw me to the ground? No. This was the second time." Caitlin closed her eyes. "The first time he took a bullet for me."

  Wait...what? The words must have been written on Xan's face, because she didn't need to voice them before the girl continued.

  "Nathan and I have a shared, violent past. One where we both have blood on our hands. Him more than me, but only because he got there first. Did Jason tell you that I'm a killer?"

  Xan nodded. Why lie?

  "He's right, though he knows nothing about it. About me or Nathan. Did he call Nathan a psycho?"

  "Yes," Xan whispered. Caitlin's husband wasn't psychologically sound. Even Xan could see that.

  Caitlin nodded grimly. "He wouldn't dare say it in front of me. Not any more. I know Nathan's not perfect, but then, neither am I. So on Saturday, when you watched two damaged people commit their lives to one another, were you envisioning our end?"

  "I did consider offering you a card for the national domestic violence hotline," Xan admitted. "I still think – "

  "You're wrong," Caitlin interrupted. "I'm not like Phuong, Jason's mail order bride. If Nathan ever tries to hurt me, he won't survive the day. He – "

  "Wait. You know about Phuong? Jason swore everyone to secrecy, that we wouldn't mention a word to you."

  Caitlin shrugged. "Of course I know. About her, and all his girls. The names of every staff member who lost her job here because of him. The maid, the mail order bride, the virgin, the heiress and every reality TV starlet he slept with along the way. Phuong's husband was a real piece of work, by the way. He deserved to die far more painfully than he did."

  "He's dead?" Xan blurted out. "But I thought..." She stared at Caitlin. A killer, she'd said. But...

  Caitlin smiled. Sharks looked friendlier. "Men who abuse women don't live long around me."

  Xan swallowed. She didn't think she was getting out of this room alive. No wonder Jason was scared of this girl. "So what's your husband's life expectancy, then?"

  "Hopefully another fifty years or more. When we're both old and grey and have to keep our weapons strapped to our walking frames." Suddenly Caitlin looked like a bride again – smiling radiantly like a normal newlywed. "Nathan will never hurt me. I know that for certain."

  Said every domestic violence victim ever, Xan thought but didn't say.

  Caitlin seemed to read her mind anyway. "Sometimes life has moments you can't afford to forget. Now, most men, if someone held a gun to their heads and told them that they had to hurt someone or they'd die...most men would consider it. Some would do it. How many men you know would risk their lives for you?"

  Jason, Xan thought. First in the fire. Then during the cyclone. And again with the jellyfish...and this girl.

  "None, right?" Caitlin continued, as if she hadn't expected Xan to answer. "Nathan saved my life, though he didn't expect to survive. And he's done it more than once. When life gives you a man who loves you and truly would die for you, you don't ask for perfection. You take that gift however he comes and you hold onto him. Help his scars to heal because he's worth spending the rest of your life with. Whatever the future holds."

  Worth spending the rest of your life with. No need for perfection. Hold onto him. Not throw his peace offering back in his face.

  "Then I wish you all the best for your future together," Xan said hoarsely.

  "Thank you," Caitlin replied, and left, shutting the door behind her.

  Xan buried her face in her hands. Jason. How had she been so blind? Had he seriously considered her as more than a night's conquest, all this time? If so, she'd screwed up so royally she could never look him in the eye again.

  Bloody hell.

  FIFTY

  Jason pushed himself to swim twice the length of the lagoon that morning, same as yesterday. He was angry, he was frustrated, he was fucking pissed off at himself for fucking up so royally after the wedding and worst of all, Xan hadn't been watching him swim from her kitchen window, like she did every morning. Every morning until the morning after he fucked up, that is. Now it was two days in a row he hadn't seen her.

  Where was the point in having your own private island with a lagoon you could swim naked in every morning, if the one woman you wanted to admire your arse as you swam past wasn't looking? It was enough to make him stop swimming altogether. Or to wear something while he did it.

  Or maybe it was time to leave the island for a while, and go to the east coast while he was recording the album. Find replacement band members over there. Do a few shows, then maybe head overseas. Angel had never wanted to tour much, so they hadn't. Funny, that the songwriter and guitarist could call the shots for the whole band. But she could and she had. That was something else he'd need – a songwriter. Everything he'd tried to write the last few months was shit. Especially that song he'd given up on that night of the wedding. Definitely not good enough to play in public.

  Maybe he should try asking her one more time, while she was still basking in her honeymoon glow...

  Or maybe not, seeing as the last time they'd spoken had been at the wedding reception, with fireworks exploding overhead as she told him exactly how many seconds he had to get out of her sight before she rendered him incapable of fathering children.

  Fireworks were what had fucked up his night. First the ones in the sky, then the ones with Xan. Should never have kissed her...

  "Why is your hotel manager looking for jobs on the other side of the country?" a voice enquired.

  Ang...no, Caitlin. That's what she wanted to be called now, after so long as Angel. She sat on his veranda, enthroned on one of his outdoor chairs. Normally, he'd be worried about her cutting bits off, especially after what she'd said the other night, but the thought of losing Xan stopped him dead.

  "Bullshit. We pay her plenty here." Jason wished his voice didn't sound so weak.

  Her eyes filled with pity. "She has a job interview next week in Sydney. I saw it in her email inbox when I dropped off her gift. She liked it, by the way."

  Who cared about the necklace and earrings if Xan was leaving?

  "What did you do?" Caitlin asked softly.

  "I kissed her," Jason snapped. "On the night of your wedding, I kissed her."

  "Must have been a really awful kiss if that's why she's lea
ving."

  "It fucking wasn't, okay? It was an awesome kiss. So awesome we fell into the water. And now she doesn't want to talk to me. Even look at me." Jason stomped up the steps to the door. "Aren't you just the bad news fairy? First the band's breaking up, then you're engaged to Dr Crazypants who tried to break my face the day we met, and now Xan's leaving. Fan-fucking-tastic." He swiped open his front door and strode inside.

  Caitlin followed him. "So you're just going to let her go? Not fight for her?"

  "You think I should turn all crazy stalker and follow her? That's rich, coming from you." Jason refused to look at her. Fuck, of course he wanted to fight for her. Run up to her office right now and beg her not to go.

  "Of course not. There's a big difference between stalking a girl and asking her on a date, or for something more. You hounded me for years, but you were never a stalker."

  "No, I paid someone more qualified to follow you around and keep you safe. Or so I thought. That's what you want me to say, isn't it? That I'm sorry I fucked up? Then with the security guard, and now with the fireworks? I'm sorry, all right? I fuck up. I'm human. Not as perfect as you. Or Xanthe." Jason wished she'd leave him alone to his misery, but he didn't dare say so. "Why aren't you enjoying your honeymoon bliss with your new husband? Doesn't he have the stamina to satisfy you?"

  Caitlin laughed. "There's nothing wrong with his stamina. His family fly home tomorrow, so he's taken the helicopter to town to do some sightseeing with them. And his little sister...well, you know how much you hate Nathan? She likes me a lot less than that."

  Staring at the girl he'd fallen in love with about the time he'd learned to read, Jason found that hard to believe. Everyone fell for Caitlin. It was something about the big eyes and how delicate she looked that somewhere in between you just couldn't help yourself.

 

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