was uncanny; they could be cousins. They even had a tattoo in the same place.
He shook his head. He had Rielle lodged too hard on his brain, now he was seeing her likeness in other women. Kissing her, making out with her, had been one heck of a mistake. And agreeing to go with her to the interview was another. He quit the gym, annoyed with himself and wondering how he’d get through the afternoon.
When Jake slammed out of the gym, Rielle stepped off the cross trainer, and braced her hands on her legs to take a deep breath. That was way too close for comfort. Jake wasn’t stupid and he’d practically seen her naked, had his hands all over her body, and though the real Rielle was very different to her usual look, and she’d kept her responses to a minimum and her face turned away, it was still playing with lit matches to have stayed in the gym with him.
She was slightly freaked out. He already thought she was a fake, and he didn’t know the half of it. The last thing she wanted was to push him totally out of her life by meeting his expectation. This whole thing with Jake was driving her insane. She’d gone from thinking he was wet and weak to having a crazy crush on him. And it was more than a temporary brain snap. She was infatuated with Jake Reed, desperate to feel his hands on her again, and it was mucking with her head.
Jake was waiting for Rielle in the foyer, wondering what sort of mood he’d find her in and how she’d take the news Rand had nicked off with Harry.
He saw her step out of the lift. She wore skin-tight black three quarter pants that sat just above her hip bones, with crazy high heeled shoes that wrapped around her ankles. She had an orange and white t-shirt with designer rips in it, which skimmed her narrow waist, emphasising two inches of her flat stomach and taunt obliques, and showing her orange lace bra in places. Today her hair was bundled up, pieces of it falling down her back and around her face, tangling with hoop earrings. She had orange and purple around her eyes and, purple lips.
She was more provocatively dressed than she was on days she rehearsed or when they were travelling; the makeup was louder, the clothing more cutting edge, the hardcore rock chick chic more obvious.
He was smiling to himself about the stupidity of seeing her likeness in the sexy blonde in the gym. What the hell had he been thinking? That girl had been natural sugar. Rielle was aspartame—all artificial.
“What?” Rielle said, eyes narrowed when she reached him. She knew he’d been checking her out. He copped it sweet. “You look amazing.”
She tapped her toe on the marble floor. Her heels gave her extra height; she was almost level with his face. “You don’t actually think that, Jake.”
He didn’t hide his laugh this time. He put his palms up in surrender. “I do, you’re a rock chick and you look hot.”
She said, “I thought you preferred a more natural look.” He thought of the way she’d looked in her dressing room, lemon fresh from a shower, light makeup and barely any clothing. “Er, okay you got me. I think you know how much I liked that.” He turned his head and looked out towards the street. He could feel heat pink his face and wished he’d brought his sunglasses to hide behind.
21. All the Way
“He did what?” Rielle shouted, making several guests at the check-in counter look around.
Here we go. Jake opened his hands, shrugged and repeated what he’d just told her about Rand taking Harry out for the day. He was ready for a blast of her famous temper and half of him thought she was justified in blowing her stack. Rand had ditched a couple of important commitments and left her holding the ball. But all she said was, “Bastard could’ve told me.”
They took a hire car to the first appointment with B106 FM and Jake watched Rielle snap into performance mode the moment she walked into their foyer. She was all flashing eyes and pouty lips, smart comments and witty one-liners. She back announced songs, traded gossip with the announcers, and talked to listeners. When a caller asked about the now famous ‘hanging roadie’ her response was, “Don’t piss a diva off!” then she said quite deliberately, “Shit, can I