“So no husband and children,” he said, the question ending the silence. “But surely there’s been a boyfriend or two? Boyfriends? Surely Jeremy I’m-Too-Hispter-For-My-Suit Craig can’t be the only man aching for you?”
A blush painted Nat’s cheeks. “Aching for me? I can see why your autobiography was so successful. You certainly have a way with words.”
He grinned. “You’ve read it? Did you like what I said about you?”
“I’m not sure. The chapter dedicated to you bonking your way around Sydney in your early twenties wasn’t very specific on details.”
He laughed. “Okay, I didn’t use your name because I didn’t want you angry at me. And you were the principal of Sydney Boys High at the time it was published. I checked. I didn’t think the students or parents at the school would have reacted well on learning their revered principal had screwed a lowly rock band keyboardist at just about every significant Sydney location, do you?”
She couldn’t help but chuckle. “Point taken.”
He nodded. “Good. Now answer the question, Boxhead. Why aren’t you happily ensconced in a relationship right now?”
A steady pressure wrapped Nat’s temples. A prickling heat razed her flesh. “No one’s ever come close to…” She caught the incriminating confession before it could fall from her lips. “I mean, I’ve just never found the right person. And I work ridiculously long hours. No one’s going to put up with me never being home for dinner, or being at work all weekend with student performances. Or being too tired when I do get home to do anything but collapse in bed, sometimes without even cleaning my teeth.”
He studied her with a steady sideways gaze, an unreadable expression on his face, his eyes hidden by his dark sunglasses. “Yeah, sounds like hell.”
Her heart quickened. Why was it so easy to picture Jax in that bed with her? Teasing her for her bad breath even as he flattened her to her back and slid his morning erection into her all-too-ready—
“So what did you think of the movie last night?” she blurted out, shutting the mental image down. “Best soundtrack of the series so far?”
For a moment, it seemed like Jax was going to call her out for her sudden shift in topic. And then he let out a knowing chortle, lips curling. “So far,” he answered, withdrawing his hand from hers and pulling her to his side, smoothing his fingers across the curve of her butt to settle on her hip.
They walked and talked. Conversation flowed from the movie to the upcoming Chris Huntley sequel, to the animals around them, the people around them, to the band and their exasperating search for a new lead singer. Jax told her about Pepper, her phenomenal voice and crippling shyness, filled her in on how the New Yorker was now the band’s manager and the best thing that had ever happened to Noah. He regaled her with Samuel’s epic battle and ultimate surrender to love. She laughed, not only picturing the brooding guitar player struggling with his well-crafted rock star persona but loving the sound of Jax’s voice, his description of the moment Samuel had bolted after the woman he loved in a San Francisco rehab clinic.
When he told her of the heartache Levi had experienced over the last year, she couldn’t stop the tears stinging the backs of her eyes. “I wish I’d known,” she said, gazing at a large silverback gorilla fleeing a smaller female sitting in front of him. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had anything to do with Levi, but I remember him being a serious, deep guy. To lose a baby in such a horrible way…” She stopped, her heart clenching.
“I almost called you,” Jax said, his body close to hers as he leant his palms on the gorilla enclosure’s railing. “No one but the band and Levi and Corbin’s family knew and we were sworn to secrecy, but I almost called you.”
“To tell me?”
He shook his head. “Because I couldn’t get my head around the shock and senselessness of it all and needed you to help me understand it.”
Nat frowned up at him, her belly knotting. “How would I—”
“You always helped me understand life, Natalie,” he cut her off with a soft smile, still facing the gorillas tending to each other on the other side of the glass. “Just by being with me, you helped me understand the madness of it all. I didn’t realize that until you weren’t.”
The knot in Nat’s belly twisted. Her throat tightened. Her lips tingled.
Jax turned his head, his eyes hidden by his sunglasses, his face shrouded in the shadow form of his baseball cap. “I almost called you to tell you that as well.”
“Why didn’t you?” The question left her before she could stop it, a scratchy whisper.
His smile turned wry. “I told you that already. I’ve been a tosser most of my adult life.”
The self-deprecating contempt in the calm statement about his personality tore at Nat’s heart. “Not your whole adult life,” she murmured, cupping the side of his face with her hand.
“No?” Surprise tinged the word.
She shook her head. “Only when you took my AC/DC album.”
He laughed, the sound warm and relaxed and wonderful. “Ah, only then. Gotcha.”
Without warning, he dropped into a low crouch, pressed his shoulder to her belly and hauled her off her feet. He wrapped his arm around the back of her thigh, ignoring her giggling squeals. “Just for that, I’m going to carry you into those bushes over there and show these gorillas how it’s done.”
She burst out laughing. “Put me down, you maniac!”
“Nope.” He began walking. “I’m going to make you regret that, woman. I’m going to—”
“You better put her down, Mr. Potter,” Bruce’s stern voice rumbled behind Nat. “The paparazzi have discovered you’re here and are hunting for you.”
“Fuck.” Jax lowered her to her feet, a scowl twisting his lips. However, he didn’t release her from his arms, holding her close to his body instead. “No screwing in the bushes then.”
Pussy throbbing at the notion of being caught making out in the bushes by a horde of ravenous paparazzi, Nat pulled away from him a little. “What about lunch instead? We could find a semi-secluded corner in one of the cafés or restaurants here and wait until they’ve given up?”
“Holston’s with them,” Bruce said, distaste evident in his voice.
Jax snorted. “Well, we know he’s not going to give up in a hurry, don’t we?” Turning his dark glasses to her, he let out a wry chuckle. “Fuck it.” With a grin, he reached up and swept the baseball cap from his head. “Ready to have some fun, Teach?”
She frowned, the devilish look on his face unnerving her. And exciting her. “What are you going to do?”
“This,” he said, and without warning, slung her over his shoulder again and strode from the gorilla enclosure.
It didn’t matter how many times Nat or Bruce told him to put her down. He carried her over his shoulder through the zoo, loudly proclaiming to anyone who passed who he was. People stopped and gaped at them. Most raised their phones or cameras and took photos. All of them laughed and smiled. Nat gave up protesting and, giggling often, surrendered herself to the moment and enjoyed his lunacy.
When they finally came upon a gaggle of paparazzi obviously alerted to the spectacle Jax was making, he gave her butt a showing slap. “Think I might take you into the reptile enclosure, woman,” he declared, raising his voice to a melodramatic volume. “Show you a really impressive snake.”
The photographers—three of them in number, all armed with the latest and greatest zoom lensed camera—swung to face them. “Campbell!” they started calling, just as Jax strode away from them, Nat still slung over his shoulder. She gave them a sheepish wave, wondering how the hell the Con board was going to react to this. Wondering but not really caring.
She was having fun.
A minute later, with Bruce muttering something into a mobile phone beside them, Jax carried her into the dark interior of the reptile house.
The cool shadows wrapped around them instantly. Nat blinked, the sudden darkness messing with her visio
n for a few moments.
By the time her eyes had adjusted to the distinct lack of light, Jax had returned her to her feet. “That was fun,” he laughed, sliding his hands up the back of her thighs, over her butt to pull her hard to his body.
“It was different,” she pointed out, unable to hide the delight in her voice. “What do we do now?”
Removing his sunglasses, he lowered his head to hers, his hands cupping her backside in a warm, possessive grip. “Well, Bruce will keep everyone outside until the zoo security guys come and deal with paparazzi. And while they are distracted by security, kicking up a fuss about being denied access to public attractions and whatnot, you and I will slip out through the reptile house’s staff exit.”
Nat cocked an eyebrow. “And you know all this because?”
“Because I told Bruce to organize just such a thing before coming to your home today, in case the pap found us.”
“You did?”
“I did.” He drew his head closer again to her, his breath a warm caress on her lips. “I also told him to tell zoo staff and security to not come to our rescue or let anyone into the reptile house for at least twenty minutes.”
Nat’s heart tripped a beat. Her breasts grew heavy, her nipples pinched tight. The rigid bar pressing at her belly told her the paparazzi was the farthest thing from Jax’s mind. “You did?” she whispered, smoothing her hands up his chest, over his shoulders and into the hair at his nape. “And why’s that exactly?”
“So we could do this,” he whispered back.
He closed the minute distance between their lips and kissed her.
“And this,” he said when he tore his mouth from hers.
And with that, he pressed her back to the wall, unbuttoned her shirt and proceeded to make love to her.
Chapter Twelve
Nat refused to let him take her out to dinner after the zoo, refused to see him again for the rest of the weekend, in fact.
It didn’t help Carl Holston was waiting for them when they left the zoo by the back staff exit. In typical, obnoxious Holston fashion, the pap threw insults and slurs at them both, hoping for the kind of reaction he could sell for thousands of dollars.
“C’mon, Campbell,” the creep called. “Stick your tongue in her ear. Is she better than your last chick? Fucking hotter, that’s for sure. You knocked her up yet?”
Jax didn’t respond. Nor did Nat. Like a pro, she ignored the man even when he asked her how long she’d been sleeping with Jax, camera firing.
She stood beside Jax, her face composed, her gaze fixed on the distant Sydney skyline across the harbor as if the man didn’t exist.
“You the broad the Minister for the Arts and Culture was out with last night?” Holston asked her, firing away.
Nat ignored him.
“What’s it like juggling two men on the same night, eh?”
She didn’t bat an eye.
“Does the minister know you’re out with Campbell again?”
She studied the view before her, composed. Jax was impressed.
“Do you know Campbell screws women all over the world?”
Jax had never lost his temper with a member of the paparazzi before, but that last one… He turned to glare at Holston just as Bruce arrived. Thank God for good timing, because Jax was one more insulting question away from punching the bastard fucker out.
“In here, sir,” Bruce waved them over to the Aston Martin even as he fixed a stare on the paparazzo. “I’ll deal with this guy.”
“Fucking bodyguards,” Holston sneered, a second before scurrying away.
Bruce grunted. “I’ll run him off,” he said, giving his shoulders a roll. “I could do with the exercise.”
And with that, he followed Holston with a loping stride Jax could only label as gleeful.
Jax let out a wry snort. “I need to pay him more.”
“Probably.”
He turned to Nat, the ambiguous tone in her voice sending an unsettled tension through him. Had the pap freaked her out more than she was letting on? “Everything okay?”
She drew a slow breath, closed her eyes and then gave him a steady look. “I’ve got work to do. Stuff I should have done before now. Would you mind dropping me at home?”
The tension in his gut intensified. “Work?” He forced a mocking grin to his lips. “That sounds boring. How about we go out for dinner instead? You could call up one of your candidates from your list and invite them along, if you want.”
It was, to be honest, a desperate attempt to stave off what he feared was coming. Her leaving him.
He didn’t want that. Not at all.
She studied him for a second, a suspicious gleam in her eyes and then pulled her phone from her bag.
Without a word, she dialed a number, pressed her phone to her ear and waited.
So did Jax, his breath in his throat.
A few seconds later, without uttering a word, she returned her phone to her bag.
Fuck.
“I think it’s best you drop me off at my place, Jax,” she said. “I’m sure you’ve got commitments to attend to while you’re here. The movie premier couldn’t be the only thing your agent lined up for you.”
Jax ground his teeth. She was right, of course. His agent had arranged all manner of public appearances for the weekend, appearances Jax had vetoed after his first night with her.
He didn’t want to waste his time fluffing about with anyone else when he could be spending it with Nat.
He opened his mouth to tell her that and closed it again when his phone rang.
It was Pepper.
“Any chance you can give me an update, Jax?” Synergy’s manager asked, her New York accent all the more obvious to his ears after so many weeks back in Australia.
“You can’t rush perfection, Peps,” he answered, watching Nat as she once again withdrew her mobile from her bag.
“True,” Pepper conceded. “But I’ll give you the perfect kick up the ass if you take much longer.”
Jax laughed, all the while watching Nat.
Who was she talking to on her phone?
Why was she walking away from him?
Why did she look so tense?
It took a second before Jax realized Pepper was no longer talking to him.
“Pepper?”
The band’s manager laughed in his ear. “Why do I feel like the unflappable Jaxon Campbell is well and truly in a flap right now?”
Jax’s gut clenched. “Me? In a flap?”
Pepper snorted. “Yes, you. Here, Noah wants to talk to you.”
Before Jax could tell Pepper he really had to go, Synergy’s drummer was on the other end of the line. “Jax,” Noah burst out. “What the hell are you doing over there? Oh, and guess who wants to come to the opening of the bar? And did you see…”
Like it always did, the conversation with Noah jumped from topic to topic. Jax loved the drummer too much to shut him down, but damn, it was hard not to. Especially when, ten minutes later, he watched a taxi pull to a halt in the zoo parking area, a few metres away from where he stood next to the Aston Martin.
“Noah, dude,” he finally said, a prickling heat creeping over him as Nat walked toward to the waiting cab. “I’ve gotta go. Tell Pepper not to worry.”
If Noah answered, Jax didn’t hear him.
Ending the call, he tossed his mobile onto the Aston Martin’s front seat and ran after Nat. “Oi,” he called. “What the fuck?”
She grinned at him from the open passenger door. “Don’t get yourself into a tiz, Campbell. I’ve got work to do. A lot of it. I’ll see you Monday. With more names on my list.”
And with that, she closed the door and the taxi drove away.
He stood there in the empty parking area, shocked. And nervous.
When Bruce ambled back, the closest thing to a satisfied smile Jax had ever seen on his face, Jax did his best to not appear…in a flap.
It was tricky though. Because he was in a flap. He wanted Nat h
ere with him.
He wanted to spend the weekend with her.
He wanted to spend…
The rest of your life with her?
“Let’s get out of here, Bruce,” he tossed over his shoulder as he dropped into the rental sports car.
He tried to call her numerous times over the weekend, but all he got was her message service, and there was only so many times a guy could ask a woman to call him before he had to admit she wasn’t going to.
Whatever was going on in Nat’s head, she wasn’t sharing it with him. It kind of pissed him off. Truth be known, he felt lost without her.
Lost. Ah, there’s that word Nick had used. Maybe he was right after all?
When the sun rose on Monday, Jax didn’t waste any time getting out of bed. A first for him. “See you Monday,” she’d said. Well, it was Monday. And he was going to see her.
Aware he was stupidly excited about getting to the Con ASAP, he forced himself to go to the Hyatt’s private gym and put in a solid forty minutes working out. Then he swam a dozen laps in the hotel’s pool. Then, thanks to his agent’s insistence, he filmed a live breakfast interview with the country’s leading morning news program where he talked about the search for a new lead singer for the band, who was going to be cast as him in the upcoming movie adaption of his autobiography and life after Nick Blackthorne. The whole time, however, his mind was on Nat.
Not sex with Nat. Just Nat. Wondering what she was doing, if she was wearing those boring conservative low heels at work again, if she was thinking about him.
By the time nine o’clock ticked over, he was ready to burst.
Leaving Bruce behind, he damn near ran from the television studio to the Aston Martin and broke more than one speed limit driving to the Con. He probably earned himself more than one red light camera fine, truth be known.
Didn’t matter.
He’d never been so impatient to see someone. He knew he should be impatient to see her because of the possible replacement options for Nick, that’s why he was here after all. But that wasn’t the case. He told himself he was impatient to see her because he wanted to press her against the door in her office and make her come so loudly the whole damn conservatorium heard. That wasn’t the reason either, although it was a damn arousing notion.
Getting Played (Heart of Fame #7) Page 15