One Perfect Night (11 page)

The water was tepid, blissful. She opened her eyes and located two gorgeously muscular legs and a torso to die for. Somehow she managed to burst through the surface right in front of his face.

“You’re far too trusting of predators,” he drawled. It was impossible to miss the wicked lilt of his lips and the seductive sin in his eyes. “It’s payback time.”

“Excuse me?” Before she could comprehend what he meant or spin around and try to get away, he’d wrapped his legs around her waist and pulled back so she was somehow lying on top of him. Her lips centimeters from his, her sopping wet bra pressing against his sopping wet T-shirt and, well, something hard and pleasurably tormenting pressing against her inner thighs.

“You better have a good hold of me,” she whispered, thinking that if this were punishment for pushing him overboard, she could become a very, very naughty girl, “because right now I have no strength at all.”

“Really?” His voice was laced with satisfaction and husky-hot against her cheek. “Then I guess you’ll have no strength to stop me doing this.”

In a split second, he reached behind her back and snapped the clasp of her bra. One tug and she watched half of her favorite set of underwear wash away on the gentle waves.

“Cameron!” she admonished.

“Yes?” he replied, feigning innocence.

“What if another yacht comes along?” She wriggled free of his legs, stealing back some kind of control and began treading water alongside him.

He shrugged. “What if?” And pressed his mouth hot and hard against hers.

Resistance was futile. Their legs working to keep them above water, she crept her hands under the back of his T-shirt and skimmed them all over his taut back. He captured her breasts, teasing her nipples with fingers and tongue before delving lower and toying with the elastic of her panties.

“No way,” she said, pulling back and covering his hands with hers to stop him. “I’m not losing my knickers as well.”

“In that case, let’s take this on board.”

“No complaints here.”

They swam toward the yacht with such determination there might as well have been a shark tailing them. He helped her on board and then led her hurriedly beneath the deck.

If his bed had looked inviting before, it looked downright irresistible now. Not to mention its owner who stood tall and tempting, every curve of muscle highlighted beneath the wet material of his outfit. She reached out a finger and ran it from his Adam’s apple right down the center of his chest, stopping just short of his belt buckle.

His muscles rippled beneath her touch. “Don’t stop now, princess.”

It was all the invitation she needed. Slowly—not sure who she was teasing more—she peeled his T-shirt off as if it were an extra layer of skin. Next came the buckle. She fumbled slightly at first, energized by the prospect of what lay beneath, but it was still only a matter of moments before the belt came undone and he let her tug his cargos off. He must have kicked his shoes and socks off at the door because all of a sudden the only scraps of material between them were his boxers and her knickers.

“Is it hot in here?” she puffed.

“Scorching,” he replied. “But I’m not sure what I have in mind will do a very good job of dousing the fire.”

“Hmm,” she pondered, “me neither, but I’m prepared to give it a shot.” She took a step, closing the gap between them. Then, recalling her strength from earlier, she pushed firmly against his chest.

He hadn’t anticipated this and flopped back against the bed as she desired. The sight of him sprawled naked on the crimson covers stole her breath, but she quickly recovered, spurred on by her own wanton need. Straddling his thighs, she wrapped her hand around his already aroused length and smiled into his glassy eyes.

“I like your thinking,” he crooned.

“And do you like this?” She moved her fingers up and down, cupping his balls with the other hand.

“So far so good.” He was so cool, so unruffled.

That was about to change.

She dipped her head and licked a gentle line from his tip. “And that?”

“Good too.”

“Oh really?” Turned on almost beyond control, she took him farther into her mouth. Sucking, nibbling, licking until slowly his mere moans turned into the joyous groans.

“Where did you learn to do that?” he hissed, his hands reaching to fondle her breasts.

She replied with more of the same, not about to tell him this was the first time she’d felt truly comfortable being intimate in this way. She relished his unique flavor and the power her mouth could bring. She’d never felt so close to another human being as she did to Cameron now. He began to quiver and then shudder beneath her tongue.

“Stop, please.” His hands were on her head, tugging her upward. “I want to taste you. All of you.”

She pulled back. Even his words had the power to flood her senses. But then, he rolled her, pushed her down into the pillows and kissed his way down her body. Her nipples pebbled into hard, throbbing stones, her tummy fluttered as he licked circles around her belly button and then…

“Oh. Cameron. Wow.”

His mouth was
there.
Between her legs. Deeper. Her fingers sought his hair as, helpless, she lifted her bottom slightly off the mattress. And screamed.

When she didn’t think she could take the pleasure any longer, when she thought she might die of ecstasy, he sheathed himself and plunged inside.

They didn’t spend much time on deck for the rest of the day. His bed became a table for their picnic and alternated between a place of conversation and more pleasure. Early evening, when he docked the boat again at Sydney Harbor, Peppa didn’t want this blissful day ever to end. Thankfully, Cameron seemed to feel the same. He suggested a walk and ice creams on the pier.

Ice creams in hand, they turned away from the server, and Peppa’s heart collided with her lungs as they came face-to-face with her past. She knew this day had been too good to be true.

“Peppa?” Tim’s arm was wrapped around a skinny redhead, who wasn’t yet showing but had that glow associated with pregnant women.

Peppa felt like snapping at him.
Of course, it’s me.
Three years of her life devoted to this man and he acted as if he almost didn’t recognize her. Miraculously, she clutched the cone of her ice cream more tightly and smiled politely. “Tim, what a pleasant surprise. This must be your lovely wife?”

“Ah…yes,” he sputtered, his cheeks flaming like a beetroot. “Sorry. Peppa this is Sascha. Sascha, this is Peppa. We work together.”

Peppa almost choked.
Work together?
Had he forgotten what they’d been through? They’d never once “worked” together in the literal sense. In the same building maybe but
work colleagues
was definitely not how she’d describe them.

Tim’s eyes then flashed to Cameron and she saw the instant he recognized their boss. She saw the questions in his eyes and jumped on them.

Placing her hand against Cameron’s upper arm, she launched into her own introductions. “Pleased to meet you, Sascha. This is Cameron.”

Cameron smiled at Sascha. “Congratulations on your recent nuptials. How was the honeymoon?”

Sascha’s brow furrowed but Tim quickly stepped in. “Cameron is the head of Lyrique Recordings. He was most gracious about granting me leave on such short notice.”

“Not a problem,” Cameron replied. Although he smiled, Peppa glanced between the two men noticing they appeared like two hyenas ready to attack. “It was nice bumping into you but we must be moving on. Enjoy the rest of your vacation.”

“Will do,” replied Tim and Sascha in unison.

Taking her hand, Cameron led them back toward the pier and Peppa tried to focus on licking her ice cream. Usually one of her favorite desserts, the cold did nothing but freeze her brain. It certainly didn’t slow the racing of her heart or ease the sick feeling in her gut.

When they were far enough away from the ice-cream parlor, Cameron stopped at a park bench and pulled her down. Her thigh pressed against his and for the first time, the desire wasn’t as strong as her shock.

“What was that all about?” asked Cameron, far too intuitive for her liking.

“What?” She tried for open-eyed innocence as she took a tentative lick of her ice-cream cone.

He put one hand on her arm and turned her to face him. She saw his brows raised in utter disbelief. His own ice cream held to one side, untouched. “You were like a scatty cat back there. Was it Tim?”

“Of course it was Tim.” She tried to shrug Cameron off, angry that her actions had betrayed the churning inside her gut. She’d thought she’d played the part of the carefree ex quite well. “You and I agreed to keep our—”
What should she call it?
“—our
liaison
separate to work and now Tim’s seen us
together.
It’ll be round all the departments first thing tomorrow morning. You know how the office loves a good game of Chinese Whispers, so we’ll probably have eloped and have a love-child on the way.”

He laughed out loud at her nervous ramblings. Good, it seemed to have distracted his enquiring mind.

“I’ll buy a play pen for the corner of my office and really get them talking, shall I?”

She tried to laugh at his ridiculous suggestion but it came out as a half-hearted smile.

And blast it, he noticed.

“But that’s not why you were on edge, is it?” He looked searchingly into her eyes and she fought the urge to look away. Fought the tears that were threatening to barrel through her facade. “Tim’s the ex you mentioned, isn’t he?”

Cameron’s hand rested on top of hers now. And no matter how hard she tried to tame the trembling, Peppa knew he felt every tremor.

She swallowed, stared at her melting ice cream and nodded. “Yes. Tim and I were an item for three years.”

“I see.” He squeezed her hand gently and proceeded to draw comforting circles on her palm. “Must be hard seeing him with his new wife. Do you still have feelings for him?”

“No.” The word came out like a gunshot. She took a breath. “No, I don’t love him anymore. It was just a shock that’s all.” And now she wanted to change the subject to something totally innocuous before he asked anything further and her emotions really started to unravel.

He got in first. “Why did you break up?”

Blast it! They’d been enjoying the perfect day and now he wanted to have a deep-and-meaningful heart-to-heart? She took a moment, trying to think of the best course of action, of how much she should reveal. He didn’t seem the type to give up when there was something he wanted to know.

“He really wanted to have a family.” She hoped he didn’t notice her voice break on the last word.

“But so do you?” He let go of her hand and finally began on his ice cream.

He was right. At the very core of her being was the desire to be a mother. The desire to raise a big, happy brood. She nodded. “Yes, I do.”

His ice cream hovered in front of his mouth as his lips adopted a frown. “I don’t understand. If he wanted a family and you wanted a family then—”

“We got pregnant and I lost the baby.” The confession spilled from her lips in a rush. Her cheeks burned and the second the words were out, she cursed herself for telling him. There was a certain thing as too much information, especially where no-strings-attached sex and Cameron were concerned.

“I’m sorry.” He tossed the ice cream in the bin behind him and she couldn’t help but notice his face go very pale. “That must have been hell but I still don’t understand why it meant the doom of your relationship.”

She sucked in air, suddenly desperate for oxygen. She didn’t think he’d accept a simple,
I’d rather not talk about it.
Her own ice cream followed his into the trash. “I had an ectopic pregnancy.”

He inclined his head, his eyes intent on hers and his mouth a serious line. “What exactly does that entail?”

“I lost one of my fallopian tubes.” She swallowed, her mouth dry, her heart thumping and her tear ducts ready to let loose.
Please, God, don’t let me cry.
“When they ran tests, they discovered the second tube is what they call ‘torturous.’ Basically, it might make conceiving again more difficult.”

She didn’t tell Cameron that Tim had dismissed the idea of IVF treatment as soon as their doctor had raised it. It was too expensive, too much of a gamble and he didn’t like the intrusive things he’d have to do when it was
her
fault. She shuddered recalling Tim’s harsh words. She’d thought he loved her, but when he hadn’t wasted any time in ending their relationship, it became clear he’d seen her simply as a means to an end. He wanted a family—the odds weren’t good on her providing one.

“What a bastard.” Cameron’s harsh tone pulled her from the nasty memories.

She shrugged one shoulder. “He couldn’t help his feelings. Do you mind if we talk about something else?”

“Of course not.”

Cameron unclenched his fists which had curled into tight balls at Penelope’s story. The man was a total lowlife and, if he could reject Penelope so cruelly, he also wasn’t right in the head. Still, she’d said she didn’t want to talk about it anymore and he’d respect that. He knew firsthand how talking over tragedy didn’t numb the pain as everyone said it did.

He scooped up her hand and pulled her from the park bench. Tim had already ruined their dessert; he didn’t want the man to steal
all
the magic from the day. He’d have to stamp out the painful memories with more pleasurable ones.

“Fancy an evening sail or would you prefer a nightcap below the deck?” He winked, making his insinuation clear.

She smiled but the curve of her mouth didn’t quite reach her eyes. “A nightcap would be lovely.”

They walked back in silence. Despite the open air, the atmosphere seemed stifling, so different to when they’d left the yacht half an hour ago. Cameron knew he had work to do.

When they arrived, he took her hand and led her beneath the deck into the roomy lounge area before raiding the bar for something strong and sweet. He poured, turned, held the drink out to where she’d flopped onto the leather couch and was almost knocked sideways by the thought of how beautiful and vulnerable she looked.