Goody Two Shoes (Invertary 2)

Her nostrils flared and her chin flew up. “How about you do something about this!” Then she kicked him in the shin. Hard.

“What the hell?” Josh rubbed his leg, grateful her shoes didn’t have steel toecaps.

She pointed in his face. “And don’t think you’re coming anywhere near my bed. Ever again. That boat has sailed. Any k

ids we have will be made with a turkey baster.” She stormed past him, slamming the kitchen door behind her.

“At least she’s still talking about kids.” Josh groaned as he plopped into a chair.

He listened for the sound of her stomping up the stairs, and was relieved when he heard it. For a minute he thought he’d hear the front door slam as she left him. The fact there were photographers parked at the gates might have factored into her decision to stay. Although, knowing Caroline, he wouldn’t have put it past her to climb the garden wall if she was that determined to get away.

“You’re going to have to fix this,” his mum said.

Josh shot her a “you have got to be kidding me” look. “I’m right and you know it. She could really get hurt. There are all sorts of lunatics out there, and marrying me puts her on their radar. I need her to be safe. Even if it means handcuffing her to the bed until the wedding.”

His mum sat down on the chair beside him. “You need to be patient with her. This is out of her comfort zone. Caroline is used to being in control of everything. She can’t do that with the life you’re offering her. She must be terrified.”

“Yeah, she looked it,” Josh scoffed.

But he wondered. He’d had all of his adult life to get used to being famous. It had happened gradually for him, so there’d been time to adapt. Caroline had been thrown in at the deep end, with barely three weeks to adjust.

He suddenly felt guilty. Maybe he’d been a bit harsh. “I better go talk to her.”

“Are you sure? Perhaps leaving it to the morning is better.”

“No.” Josh sighed. “I’ll do it now.”

He dragged himself off the chair and headed for the stairs, wondering if Caroline had gone to his bedroom or taken one of the empty ones. Ten minutes later, he had his answer: Caroline hadn’t taken any bedroom. Instead she’d opened the window on the first floor beside the oak tree and climbed down it. Josh felt steam come out of his ears. Damn impossible woman. She’d gone over the wall after all.

Josh pulled his phone out and called Mitch. He needed a lift past the reporters to Caroline’s house.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Caroline woke up in her bedroom on Thursday morning with a splitting sore head and her wrist handcuffed to her headboard. She stared at the silver cuff for a minute in disbelief then took a deep breath.

“Josh!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.

She heard his slow stomp as he came up the stairs to her bedroom. She should never have given him a key to her house. Oh, but wait. She didn’t give him one. He stole it.

“You rang.” Josh leaned against her bedroom doorframe.

He was dressed in romance novel classic, as Caroline liked to think of it: faded blue jeans and nothing else. He folded his arms across his bare chest and crossed his bare feet at the ankles. He was the image of relaxed sadist.

“Get this thing off me.” Caroline jangled the cuffs.

“Nope. You can’t be trusted. You’re a danger to yourself and you don’t listen to me.”

Caroline pushed her hair out of her eyes and glared at him. “You mean I won’t do what I’m told.”

The idiot actually had to think about that. “That too,” he said.

She took a deep breath. It didn’t help, so she took some more. After about half a dozen she felt able to talk to him without her head rotating 360 degrees, like something from a horror movie.

“Josh”—she used her best “let’s be reasonable” tone—“you need to take these off me. I need to go to the bathroom.”

There, he couldn’t argue with that.

“I can bring you a bucket.” His smile was wicked.