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Authors: Demelza Carlton
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away.
Why hadn't he reported her? Called Security or Reception and had them remove her from his house? He'd even felt sorry for her and bought her breakfast, but she'd refused. What kind of girl refused to join a rock star for breakfast after sleeping with him? Well, sleeping in his house, anyway.
He'd pick up some girls in town and bring them back to the island for a few nights. That'd make him feel better. Let the maid know what she was missing out on. What was her name? Audrey, like the fool's shepherdess...Jason fingered the tattooed words on his arm, a constant reminder of who he was. At least until Chaya fractured and they all went their own ways. Then what?
Fuck, it was too early to be thinking about a future beyond the rest of the day. He wanted a drink. Then he wanted some damn accommodating chicks who'd do whatever he asked, because he was a rock star. He stared moodily out the window, where the clashing colours of red rock, aqua ocean, the muddy brown of rivers and the green swirls of vegetation marking the riverbanks looked more like an abstract painting than real land. Everything about this place was surreal, including the way all the rivers and inlets looked like tortured trees full of snakes. Next to them, the heart-shaped island that housed his hotel seemed nearly normal.
Not that he could get away with rubbishing the town in the residents' hearing, though. He knew that already. One chance comment that ended up in the news could linger for weeks. Talk about hypocrisy. He could do whatever he liked to his appearance, get drunk and sleep with half the town's female population, and all anyone would say is that he was living it up in Broome because it was paradise. Say the town had a trippy river and he'd get hate mail.
Beside the town helipad, he could already see the car he'd ordered. A brand-new, black four-wheel-drive with air conditioning that could bring an Antarctic blizzard to the Kimberley. He itched to drive it. Maybe even take it off road a bit.
The helicopter bumped gently to the ground. Driving time.
"I'll drive up to the pearl farm myself and meet you there with the chopper later," he told the pilot as he slid to the ground, doubling over to stay out of reach of the still-spinning rotors. "Oh, and make sure they know I'll be bringing guests!"
He climbed behind the wheel of his new car and pulled the door closed, sealing himself inside with the new-car smell. The cloying humidity could stay outside the glass as he drove with dream-like precision to the morning haunt of all rock stars: the nearest pub.
SEVENTEEN
"So how'd your hot date with Serge go last night?" Milk splashed out of Penny's bowl of cereal as she shoved it across the table.
Audra stared at Penny. "It wasn't a hot date. We just had a few beers, sat on the beach and talked."
Penny snorted. "Talked. Yeah, right. You're still wearing the same clothes you had on yesterday, Adam's threatening to strangle Serge because he won't stop whistling, and I know you didn't come home last night because I didn't hear your door."
"You must have been asleep, then," Audra said lightly, rising to leave.
Penny grabbed her wrist. "I wanted to borrow your argan oil. I'm out and Patel loves to stroke my hair, but I went for a swim yesterday and the salt's stripped it all dry. C'mon, I know you had heaps the last time you let me borrow it." She smirked. "Or are you saving it to grease up your lover boy?"
"Yeah, maybe I am," Audra snapped, yanking her arm free. Last time Penny had borrowed the bottle, she'd used a third of the expensive stuff and she certainly hadn't paid for it. Audra had no intention of being so gullible a second time – she wasn't sure when she'd be able to afford more for herself. "So no, you can't use it."
"You'll need all the lube you can get so that hunk of meat can slide into your puckered-up hole, Grumpy Guts," Penny retorted. "How long's it been since you spread your legs for a man? Months, definitely,
Why hadn't he reported her? Called Security or Reception and had them remove her from his house? He'd even felt sorry for her and bought her breakfast, but she'd refused. What kind of girl refused to join a rock star for breakfast after sleeping with him? Well, sleeping in his house, anyway.
He'd pick up some girls in town and bring them back to the island for a few nights. That'd make him feel better. Let the maid know what she was missing out on. What was her name? Audrey, like the fool's shepherdess...Jason fingered the tattooed words on his arm, a constant reminder of who he was. At least until Chaya fractured and they all went their own ways. Then what?
Fuck, it was too early to be thinking about a future beyond the rest of the day. He wanted a drink. Then he wanted some damn accommodating chicks who'd do whatever he asked, because he was a rock star. He stared moodily out the window, where the clashing colours of red rock, aqua ocean, the muddy brown of rivers and the green swirls of vegetation marking the riverbanks looked more like an abstract painting than real land. Everything about this place was surreal, including the way all the rivers and inlets looked like tortured trees full of snakes. Next to them, the heart-shaped island that housed his hotel seemed nearly normal.
Not that he could get away with rubbishing the town in the residents' hearing, though. He knew that already. One chance comment that ended up in the news could linger for weeks. Talk about hypocrisy. He could do whatever he liked to his appearance, get drunk and sleep with half the town's female population, and all anyone would say is that he was living it up in Broome because it was paradise. Say the town had a trippy river and he'd get hate mail.
Beside the town helipad, he could already see the car he'd ordered. A brand-new, black four-wheel-drive with air conditioning that could bring an Antarctic blizzard to the Kimberley. He itched to drive it. Maybe even take it off road a bit.
The helicopter bumped gently to the ground. Driving time.
"I'll drive up to the pearl farm myself and meet you there with the chopper later," he told the pilot as he slid to the ground, doubling over to stay out of reach of the still-spinning rotors. "Oh, and make sure they know I'll be bringing guests!"
He climbed behind the wheel of his new car and pulled the door closed, sealing himself inside with the new-car smell. The cloying humidity could stay outside the glass as he drove with dream-like precision to the morning haunt of all rock stars: the nearest pub.
SEVENTEEN
"So how'd your hot date with Serge go last night?" Milk splashed out of Penny's bowl of cereal as she shoved it across the table.
Audra stared at Penny. "It wasn't a hot date. We just had a few beers, sat on the beach and talked."
Penny snorted. "Talked. Yeah, right. You're still wearing the same clothes you had on yesterday, Adam's threatening to strangle Serge because he won't stop whistling, and I know you didn't come home last night because I didn't hear your door."
"You must have been asleep, then," Audra said lightly, rising to leave.
Penny grabbed her wrist. "I wanted to borrow your argan oil. I'm out and Patel loves to stroke my hair, but I went for a swim yesterday and the salt's stripped it all dry. C'mon, I know you had heaps the last time you let me borrow it." She smirked. "Or are you saving it to grease up your lover boy?"
"Yeah, maybe I am," Audra snapped, yanking her arm free. Last time Penny had borrowed the bottle, she'd used a third of the expensive stuff and she certainly hadn't paid for it. Audra had no intention of being so gullible a second time – she wasn't sure when she'd be able to afford more for herself. "So no, you can't use it."
"You'll need all the lube you can get so that hunk of meat can slide into your puckered-up hole, Grumpy Guts," Penny retorted. "How long's it been since you spread your legs for a man? Months, definitely,
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