A Rule Worth Breaking. Maggie Cox

now, before he had even heard her sing a note, God only knew what she was going to look like when he told her Sorry…don’t give up the day job.

      Expelling an aggrieved sigh, he dragged his fingers impatiently through his mane of dark hair and stared at her.

      ‘Okay,’ he drawled, his tone painfully resigned, ‘I’ll give you ten minutes to show me what you can do.’ Or, more to the point, what you can’t. He couldn’t pretend he was expecting very much.

      * * *

      Caitlin’s heart beat double-time. Okay, I can do this, she told herself. Singing is second nature to me.

      But her morale-boosting self-talk didn’t seem to be having a great deal of effect as she nervously made her way across to the stage. The three young men already there ambled casually back to their instruments and she wondered how many singers they’d already auditioned—because frankly they weren’t looking too impressed.

      Registering the band’s name on the large bass drum in front of the drum kit, and privately acknowledging that she’d never heard of it, she somehow made her lips shape a smile. The lead guitarist introduced himself first. Telling Caitlin that his name was Mike, he extended his hand to help her as she negotiated the final step of the wooden staircase that led onto the stage. He had an open, friendly face she noted, unlike Captain Ahab down there, who looked as if he’d just as soon as take a bite out of her rather than throw away a smile on someone who was clearly a time-waster.

      Why, oh, why had she thought this was a good idea? Just because she loved to sing, it didn’t mean that she had anywhere near enough talent to make it her career…

      ‘By the way, I’m Rick. The man who told you to come back tomorrow is the head honcho. Aren’t you going to take off your coat?’

      At the foot of the stage the fair-haired man who’d persuaded his boss to give her a chance grinned up at her, with a teasing twinkle in his dancing hazel eyes that was in complete contrast to the reception Caitlin had received from his stony-faced colleague.

      As his dark, brooding friend stayed ominously at the back of the hall she noticed he was staring back at her, as if to say, Your performance is going to have to be exceptional if you’re going to impress me. He was regarding her as if he fully expected her to disappoint him. Who was he anyway? Caitlin wondered? He might be the man in charge of the auditions, but although he’d asked for her name he hadn’t volunteered his own.

      In answer to Rick’s comment about removing her coat, she answered, ‘I’d rather keep it on, if you don’t mind. I’m feeling a little bit chilly.’

      Her hand curved round the mike stand as if to anchor her to something solid. Oh, why had she worn this stupid short skirt? Because her friend Lia had told her she should make an effort to ‘look nice’ for the audition, that was why. Caitlin should have stuck to her preference of wearing jeans and a T-shirt.

      Raising his voice so that she could hear him clearly, Rick asked, ‘So what are you going to sing for us?’

      Caitlin told him. It was a song that was regarded as a classic in the annals of rock culture. Although it had a driving, pulsing beat, there was also great passion and pathos in the lyrics and she loved it.

      ‘Good song choice.’

      She couldn’t help colouring at the approval in his voice and turned her head towards the band so that he wouldn’t see he’d unsettled her. ‘Is that okay with you?’ she asked them.

      The blond bearded drummer, who’d introduced himself as Steve Bridges, answered her with a precise drumroll, and to Caitlin’s right the stocky Scottish bass player, whose name was Keith Ferguson, played a couple of chords on his guitar.

      ‘Let’s rock and roll, then, shall we?’ Rick gave her a mock salute. ‘It’s all yours, honey. Take it away.’

      I can do this, Caitlin told herself dry-mouthed as she waited for the band to play her in.

      For a couple of seconds she squeezed her eyes shut tight. If she wanted to stay strong she wouldn’t glance at Mr Tall, Dark and Foreboding, lest one disapproving look from those strangely light blue eyes of his smothered the small vestige of courage she had left. But as the music struck up around her fear helpfully receded, replaced by her desire to sing.

      She knew this particular number inside out. What she wouldn’t admit to the present company was that she’d only sung it in the bath or in the privacy of her bedroom. Oh, and once to Lia. Her lack of experience would really freak them out if they knew about it before they heard her. Suppressing a suddenly uncharacteristic urge to grin, she listened for her cue, then opened her mouth and launched into the vocal.

      * * *

      Electricity shot through Jake’s system with all the power of a lightning bolt. His stomach muscles clenched hard as excitement and shock suffused him. As he listened to the honeyed, sexy vocal emanating from the raven-haired beauty onstage he knew they’d struck gold. He didn’t even have to let her finish the song to know it, but of course he would.

      Caitlin’s classy vocals melded with the rich, tight sound the band had worked so hard to attain as though they’d been made for each other. Her performance was stand-out amazing…knee-buckling.

      Catching sight of the exchanged grins between the band members, he also saw Rick’s silently mouthed ‘Eureka’ as he turned round to give Jake the thumbs-up. There wasn’t one girl Jake had heard sing in the past four days who came even remotely close to the talent of Caitlin Ryan. Hell…there wasn’t one girl he’d heard sing in the past couple of years who was even in her league. The woman delivered a song as if she was born to it. Damn.

      He moved his head in wonder as he watched her, her body moving in a naturally sexy sway to the beat of the music, her shapely legs drawing his appreciative gaze despite her strange insistence on keeping her coat on. With the right clothes and make-up this girl would be sit up and beg gorgeous. As good a singer as Marcie had been, she couldn’t hold a candle to Caitlin Ryan in the looks department. He didn’t wholly go along with the idea that a singer needed to be attractive, but good looks certainly didn’t hurt in this business.

      Suddenly his desire for sustenance at the local pub dissipated like snow in the desert. Jake was excited again. Enthused. When the mood was on him he could work twenty-four hours a day without a break if he wanted to, and he would willingly do so to get this band on the road again, expecting nothing less than the same commitment from everyone else.

      * * *

      As the last chords of the music died away Caitlin inhaled a relieved breath to steady herself. Then she reluctantly released the microphone.

      Behind her, Steve Bridges blew an appreciative whistle. ‘That was incredible. You absolutely killed it.’

      Feeling her face grow warm at the compliment, she was taken aback when the two men who had been watching her vaulted onto the stage.

      ‘What other bands have you been in?’ Jake demanded.

      Glancing back into his mesmerising eyes—eyes the colour of blue ice melting under steam—Caitlin’s heart bungee-jumped to her toes. ‘I—I haven’t been in any other bands,’ she admitted softly.

      ‘You’re kidding me.’ Rick looked completely nonplussed.

      Startled that he didn’t believe her, she widened her eyes in surprise.

      ‘I wouldn’t pretend about something like that. The truth is I’ve only ever sung for my own amusement and because I’m compelled to. I just love music. I’m passionate about it.’

      The rock-hard muscles in Jake’s stomach compressed tightly. He could tell she had passion…had it in spades, he thought. That was the major difference between her and the instantly forgettable wannabes he’d recently auditioned.

      ‘So you’ve never sung professionally before?’ he queried.