A Southern Star Read Online Free PDF

speculation.
    Frustrated at her patent unwillingness to trust him, Blake stood up abruptly, clearly controlling his words with difficulty. “It’s a simple question, Christie. If that call has upset you so much, why not tell me who it was?” He strode across the bar to the pool table without another word. Dully, Christie watched him go, overcome with sudden weariness.

    — # —

    Christie left the bar early after meeting Lisa and her friends only briefly, pleading tiredness, wanting to return to the crib and simply relax. Stifling a yawn, she walked out the main door onto the patio, realising with a shock Blake was just outside the hotel, looking at his mobile phone. He looked over at her silently, his dark eyes glittering in the low light. Christie caught her breath, her blue eyes wide, troubled, reflecting her inner turmoil.
    “Off home already?” His voice was neutral, polite. Christie listened desperately for any hint of the usual teasing tone, the cheeky suggestiveness. She smiled hesitantly, searching his face for any hint of expression. “I’m feeling tired, thought I’d have an early night.” Blake’s face relaxed slightly. “You looked tired earlier,” he said abruptly. “You must be working too hard.”  
    Relieved, Christie saw a slight smile appear on his face. She thought of the nightmares; her face clouded briefly. “No, Blake, I—” She stopped as he took a step closer to her. “I haven’t been sleeping that well recently,” she said quietly. His eyes narrowed as he watched her. “But it’s nothing, really,” Christie said hastily, shocked at what she had revealed, her face tinged pink.  
    “Just when I was going to offer to help,” Blake said mischievously. He looked down at her, the brazen double meaning of his words balanced by the concern in his eyes.
    An involuntary smile touched Christie’s mouth as she registered his outrageous sense of humour, acknowledging her own sense of longing. She realised Blake was moving closer, his hands resting slightly on her hips, before encircling her, pulling her towards him, watching her intently. Christie slid her hands around his back, clinging to him, unable to release her gaze from his face, conscious of his strength. Blake moved his hands slightly, holding her tightly as he bent down to kiss her.
    Christie relaxed against him, responding to his touch, insensible to reality. Gradually, she became aware Blake had raised his head, his gaze fixed on her, his hands lightly moving over her back. Christie’s senses swam back to reality as she tried to regain her composure, only to relax again as she realised she was still held in Blake’s arms. “And is your lack of sleep anything to do with tonight’s telephone call?”
    Christie tensed as she heard Blake’s voice, remembered Amanda’s telephone call and all it represented. Blake’s voice became Paul’s voice, telling her he didn’t love her, wanted to be with Amanda instead. Blake’s embrace had allowed Christie to forget Paul as if he had never existed; Blake’s words now allowed the memory to rush back. Sensing Christie’s sudden coldness, Blake instantly relaxed his arms. “Christie—” She stepped away, Paul’s face momentarily blinding her, tears glittering in her eyes.
    “Goodnight,” she said woodenly, not looking at him.  
    “Come on, Christie, you’re exhausted. Jump in the truck and I’ll take you home,” Blake said, all joking gone from his tone. Christie shook her head, still shaken by Blake’s embrace, her response, embarrassed by her admission of weakness. “Christie.” Blake’s voice was taut, dangerously low. “You are tired. You are suddenly upset and I don’t know why. You are not walking home. I’ll drive you. No arguments.”
    She glanced at him quickly, his uncompromising words strangely reassuring, easing the doubts sweeping through her mind. She smothered an involuntary yawn, nodded slightly. A sudden smile tugged at Blake’s mouth. “I’m