One Perfect Night (12 page)

Vulnerable.

Before he could say anything, she looked up and caught him staring. She bit her lip, sighed and then spoke. “I’m sorry for spoiling the evening.”

He collapsed on the seat beside her, warmth flooding his body as her hand closed around the glass. He wasn’t strong enough to remove his fingers. Instead, he guided the glass to her mouth, pressed it gently but firmly against her lips and eased the liquid down.

After a couple of sips, she pushed his hand away. He put the glass to one side and said, “You didn’t spoil anything. I’ve had a fabulous day.”

And he had. The day had exceeded all expectations he’d brought to the table that morning. Quite aside from the sex, they’d talked so much Penelope’s voice had gone husky and he felt as if he were getting a sore throat.

His fingers froze around the glass as the memory of the last time he’d felt like this slammed into his head. It felt as if he’d been hit by a road train. He’d never thought he’d feel so connected to another person, another woman, ever again. He never wanted to.

He just couldn’t.

“Cameron, are you okay?”

He frowned, taking in her blotchy face and tear-stained eyes. And she was asking him if he was okay? Tim’s appearance had knocked her for six. With barely a sentence, he’d stolen the witty, carefree woman Cameron had spent the day with. Penelope was obviously very upset about their breakup and the lost pregnancy. He’d be an idiot to ignore the facts.

He’d known from that first night she was the marrying, mothering type, yet he’d pushed this knowledge aside, listened to his libido and focused on the chemistry that arced between them.

Perhaps it was time to reassess his game plan. “I’m fine, but I’m wondering if after the events of the evening we’d be better to cool things.”

“Cool things?” Her hand rushed to her throat. He noted wariness in her narrow eyes. “Why?”

He shook his head with a short, almost bitter laugh. “Why? Because of what happened back there with Tim. Because you were about to marry the guy. Because you want to have a family and I’m just not in that ballpark.”

She bit her lip as if pondering his words. Eventually she spoke in a slow, even tone. “You’re right, I do want to have a family—more than anything—but I’ve just walked out of a serious relationship. My heart and body have been wounded beyond belief and I’m not ready to risk putting them through the wringer again. I don’t need marriage and family from you. I need you to take my mind off all of that while I heal.”

“Are you sure?”

She reached out to touch him, tracing one finger down the side of his face, over his jaw line to linger on his lower lip as she stared into his eyes. “Never been surer of anything in my life.”

He scoured her eyes, trying to decipher if she meant it. How many stories had he heard of women thinking they knew what they wanted only to change their minds shortly after?

“Cameron, please,” she urged, her pressure on his lip increasing. “I’m fine.”

He let out a strangled curse. How was he supposed to stay true to reason when all his brain cells were rushing south?

With one final gasp for sense, he caught her finger in his mouth. Sucked, caressed nibbled, until they were both writhing for more. He leaned closer still, brushed his lips along her jaw and down the length of her delicious neck, nuzzling at the vee of her cleavage. A moan escaped her mouth as she twisted to meet his kiss. The urgency of their earlier interactions was absent but the depth of passion wasn’t any less. He wanted her and she wanted him.

His hands sought the zipper of her sundress. It felt like déjà vu but was no less thrilling than the first time when he’d watched her slide the dress over her lush curves earlier that day and fantasized about doing it himself. He peeled it slowly down to her waist, his breath faltering as his gaze traveled over the delicate plains of her skin.

“You take my breath away,” he whispered, pausing simply to look his fill.

Her hands tugged his shirt from his trousers. “I promise the feeling is entirely mutual.” As his shirt tumbled from his shoulders onto the couch behind them, any self-control he was trying to hold on to crumbled. He dropped his hands to her shoulders and pushed her gently back onto the leather. With a small tug, her dress slipped easily off her body and he took her panties with them moments later. She reached up to touch his fly but his need was strong and urgent and the look in her eyes told him hers was equally so.

He took it upon himself to yank off his trousers, his breath hitching as the material scraped his erection. She smiled at the sight as he freed himself. Then he leaned down and reached out to caress her breasts. He feared one touch would be his undoing, but wanted to give her all the pleasure she gave him.

“No.” Her instruction was short, sharp and breathy. “I want you. Now.”

The pressure in his chest released at her words. He couldn’t help but grin as he quickly fumbled for a condom.

“Heaven forbid I don’t give the lady what she wants.” And with those words, he slid deep inside her silky warmth. Their moans of ecstasy came together. Familiar now but still amazing, her body moved in time with his and it didn’t take long before they were both exactly where they wanted—needed—to be.

Later when Cameron dropped Penelope off at her apartment, she stood in the doorway looking utterly adorable, utterly beddable and utterly irresistible. “Do you have to rush off?” she asked as Cameron pulled back from kissing her good-night. “You’re more than welcome to stay.”

The tone of her voice, the look of intent in her eyes, made it impossible for him to misunderstand. She wanted him to sleep with her. Really sleep.

As much as the idea surprisingly appealed, he knew he couldn’t risk it. Night terrors had plagued him on and off as long as he could remember. He’d always assumed they’d had something to do with his tragic childhood. But when he’d lost Kristen, they’d compounded, multiplied into the kind of nightmares that absolutely took over. Nightmares that made you scream out loud, your heart race, your bones ache, your stomach wrench and your fists pummel the pillow as they sought some form of relief. Unrelenting demons that made him wonder if he’d ever be able to live a normal life again.

He was certain no one suspected. It had been three years and although he scraped by from day-to-day on very limited sleep, he believed he’d succeeded in not letting anyone see that deep inside he was a mess. That whenever he closed his eyes he saw those last few moments of his wife’s life and wondered if there was anything he could have done to save her.

“Thanks but not tonight.” Then, he kissed her on the forehead and walked away.

Sipping on her chocolate milkshake, Peppa pushed open the staff tea-room door with her foot. Her eyes darted around the room and she sighed as she noted only one person. She didn’t know why she suddenly expected, hoped to see Cameron at every blinkin’ turn, but her heart was on red alert just in case.

Five days had passed since he’d ravaged her completely on his yacht but then politely turned down her invitation to stay the night. She’d felt certain then that she’d scared Cameron with her reaction to seeing Tim and her embarrassing confession that had followed. Certain that he’d decided to instate that “cooling” he’d spoken of, but the five nights following had shown otherwise.

Five nights of smoldering dinner dates followed by red-hot passion. She’d have been in absolute heaven if each and every time he hadn’t quietly slipped out of bed as she was drifting off to sleep.

It was beginning to get on her nerves. She’d confronted him once and he’d tossed her that silly old excuse about being a fitful sleeper and not wanting to disrupt her rest. Hah! As if she could get any kind of quality sleep after he’d gone. Fred was warm and soft but he was no consolation prize compared to the feel of Cameron’s strong, sculpted arms around her body.

Especially when the line he kept feeding her was utter bollocks.

She knew why he wouldn’t stay. He was maintaining distance. She knew it shouldn’t bother her when they were only supposed to be about fun, frivolity and healing but dammit he was addictive. And it
did
bother her.

Trying to put Cameron out of her mind, she checked the recording schedule, which was always pinned on the staff room wall and then headed for the studio assigned to her for the day.

“Morning, Peppa.” Izzy, already perched behind the sound desk, slid her earphones down to rest around her neck and wiggled her eyebrows. “Want to come see a movie with me tonight? I feel like we haven’t seen each other in ages.”

“We see each other every day.” Peppa laughed lightly, knowing exactly but pretending to misunderstand her friend’s meaning.

“I meant outside of work,” said Izzy. “We’re supposed to be friends. The year is slipping away and we haven’t even been to The Club for after work drinks. What’s up with you?”

“Nothing.” Peppa’s reply was perhaps a little too hasty. “I’ve just been tired.” It was almost the truth. Her nights with Cameron had been full on, much more energetic than the aerobics classes Izzy attended twice weekly. She swallowed a smile at the thought.

“You’re not getting sick, are you? There’s that horrid stomach bug going round the building.”

“No.”
Only lovesick.
The thought slipped so easily from Peppa’s mind and although she hadn’t said it out loud, she almost swallowed her tongue.
Lovesick?
Her hand rushed to her forehead, which felt as if someone had just struck her with a thick plank of wood.

No, it couldn’t be. She’d barely known him three weeks. Hadn’t even contemplated any of the things she’d contemplated with Tim—no kids, no mortgage, no marriage—yet when she thought about it Tim had never consumed her every thought the way Cameron did. Every waking hour she was on edge, looking out for him. Even during sleep he starred in the kind of fantasies she’d never imagined her mind could create—X-rated, feel-good, out-of-this-world type fantasies. Fantasies that left her hot and sweaty and wet.

Wet.
That was it. It was all about the sex. Making love was just a sweet term. But her feelings for Cameron, the way she obsessed over him, had to be a physical thing. He was like a drug. She’d never been all that fussed about making love with Tim. If she were honest, she’d never been all that fussed about making love with anyone. Until Cameron had touched her and tasted her intimately, she’d often wondered what the hype was all about.

Now she knew. Now with Cameron she’d soared to previously unchartered highs, screamed with ecstasy and been more energetic, more creative in the bedroom than ever before. Their affair was supposed to be sating their desire, but there was no evidence of that happening yet. At least not on her part.

But if she looked at it logically, she knew that wanting to jump Cameron’s bones at every available second didn’t mean she was madly and hopelessly in love. The kind of lust they shared never lasted and they wanted different things long-term. She desperately craved a family and, for all his sad and understandable reasons, he didn’t want to go there again. That should make her want to keep a distance, but it didn’t.

“Earth to Peppa? Are we going to record this book or what?”

“Sorry?” Peppa blinked and trained her eyes back on Izzy.

“Anything you care to share?”

“Huh?”

“You looked far away with the fairies,” explained Izzy. “And if the heat in your cheeks is anything to go by they were
some
fairies. Just wondered if you had anything you wanted to talk about. That date perhaps?” Izzy raised her eyebrows expectantly.

“Nope. I’m fine. Ignore me.” She gave Izzy a let’s-not-waste-any-more-time-on-mindless-chatter look. “
The Who’s Who of Rebel Heirs
is a mammoth book. I think we best get started.”

“Good idea. I was hoping to leave a bit early this afternoon.”

Peppa dropped her handbag on the floor next to Izzy’s desk and walked through the adjoining door to the tiny room in which she spent the majority of her working days. Izzy already had the lights, screen and equipment ready to go.

Sitting at his desk, Cameron tried to marshal his thoughts into a more productive line but his gaze kept flicking to the recording schedule on his desk. He’d pondered the idea of slipping down to Studio Three to sit in on Penelope’s session but logic had quashed that thought. It would be too noticeable and they’d agreed to be the epitome of discretion at work. She was still stressed about Tim knowing their secret but since her confession, Cameron had given the fool plenty of intimidating looks. Although the looks were more for what Tim had done to Penelope, he’d never know that and probably assumed Cameron was warning him to keep silent.

Enough about Tim. He didn’t want to waste precious time thinking about that poor excuse for a man and he wouldn’t. Pity it wasn’t so easy to exorcise Penelope from his mind. They’d been together every night since Scarlett’s party. The days seemed long and tedious as he waited for their time together. Guilt nagged at the thought that wanting to be with Penelope so much was betraying Kristen and her memory but he’d become skilled in ignoring such qualms, reasoning that if it was only about sex, it didn’t really count.

But if being in lust with one of his employees wasn’t bad enough, letting fantasies of being back in bed with her hijack his work days was unforgivable. He hadn’t risen above his unfortunate beginnings, studied hard and scored the top job at one of Australia’s premier recording agencies by being easily distracted.

Yet no matter what his mind had to say about it, fact was his body desperately wanted an unscheduled hit of Penelope. He puffed out a breath of frustration.

Then it hit him. The monthly department staff meetings. He generally held a meeting with the executives and in turn, they each chaired the meeting of their particular area to make sure all Lyrique employees were kept in the loop. Still, there was no reason why he couldn’t put in an appearance.

He buzzed through to Molly.

“Yes, Cameron,” she answered immediately.

“The voice talent meeting is today, isn’t it? Do you know what time?”

“One moment and I’ll check.” He heard her tapping the keys of her computer. “Stanley’s got the conference room from two.”

“Can you reschedule my appointments for the afternoon? I want to be there.”

“Not a problem.” If his decision surprised Molly, she didn’t say.

Good. Now he had that sorted, he should be able to forget about Penelope long enough to get through his emails at least.

Three hours later Peppa entered the conference room, mixed herself a nice cool glass of orange juice and lemonade from the refreshments table and then sat down.

In a few minutes the room began to fill with people. Lyrique Recordings employed about fifty voice talents—some permanent and some on a temporary basis but all were required to attend the monthly meetings. She believed it was this point-of-difference that made Lyrique stand out from the competition. Every single employee felt an important part of the company. She chatted to the talents on either side of her as they waited for Stanley, the head of the department, to arrive.

At five past two the door swung open and in strode Stanley. Followed by Cameron.

Peppa swallowed and the bubbles in her lemonade shot up her nose. She spluttered trying to hide her gaffe and more importantly her reaction to seeing Cameron at work. When her heart had recovered from the surprise, she took a slower sip of her drink in an attempt to lower her temperature and then chanced another glance in his direction. Cameron stood alongside her department boss, a tower of hard muscle juxtaposing Stanley’s spread of pudge. He looked so damn edible in that dark blue designer suit, like the devil in Armani. The junction at her thighs flared in unprofessional heat.

She licked her parched lips and he happened to glance in her direction at the precise moment her tongue was hanging out like a horny, love-sick puppy. A slight smile twisted his lips and he rewarded her with a conspiratorial wink. Her pulse fluttered and she was helpless to stop another rush of heat to her cheeks and other less visible parts of her anatomy.

Sometime, she couldn’t exactly say when, Stanley began to speak. Might as well have been in tongues for the good her brain was doing in deciphering his words. Although she did catch this sentence. “I’ll pass you over to Cameron for a few moments while he shares his vision for the New Year.”

Finally a legitimate reason to glue her gaze on him. Peppa gave up the fight and allowed her hormones their fill. The end of the day couldn’t come fast enough.

Peppa read her afternoon work on auto-pilot, spending most of her time fantasizing about the evening, about seeing Cameron again. Luckily, she didn’t have to wait that long. Just before the end of the working day, as she filed past his office, he called to her.

She’d been leaving a request for holiday leave on Molly’s desk but swallowed and inwardly smiled at the unexpected sound of her name on his lips. She glanced around nervously to see if anyone else had noticed. But no, they were quite alone in this area of the building.

She stepped into the doorway of his office. “Yes?”

“Do you mind closing the door?” he asked, a wicked grin curling his lips.

“Why?” She feigned innocence.

He shook his head and laughed disbelievingly. Within seconds, he strode around his desk, crossed the room, tugged her inside and yanked the door shut with a thud. Then he turned the lock.

He spun back around and laid his hands upon her waist. Instantly desire flared within.

“You’re not planning on taking advantage of our boss-employee relationship, are you?” Already her mind was filling with all the ways he could take advantage in this divine office. He’d turned her into some kind of wanton nymphomaniac. She glanced in the direction of the black leather couch and let her imagination wander.

“If I did, would you file a sexual harassment complaint?” He whispered the words slowly into her ear as he slid his hands around her back and pulled her closer. She felt the hard planes of his impressive chest against her breasts and something else deliciously hard against her thighs.

Complain? The idea was laughable.

She whispered back. “Perhaps you’ll just have to take your chances.”

That statement was invitation enough. As if reading her mind, he scooped her up into his arms and crossed the lush, thick pile carpet to the leather couch. He laid her down, kissed her lips and toyed with the flimsy material at the hem of her skirt.

“This skirt was almost my undoing in the meeting this afternoon.”

“Really?” She couldn’t hide the absolute delight in her voice.

“Yes,” he growled, his hands pushing the fabric upward as his fingertips teased the soft skin of her inner thighs.

“I could always take it off?”

He chuckled. “That won’t be necessary, but we do need to get rid of these.” Swiftly, he tugged off her knickers.

A ridiculous smile reigning on her face, she let her head flop back against the leather as she anticipated his touch. But fingers and toes and damn near every other part of her curled in delight when he kissed her instead. Kissed her intimately, using his tongue to probe and pleasure, to bring her to the brink of insanity. Of course they’d exchanged oral favors before but something about the illicit location and the thought that he’d been planning this all afternoon heightened the experience.

Yet within mere seconds, she’d forgotten all about being in his office. She couldn’t focus on anything but the total bliss rocketing through her body. She screamed his name. Pulled him close as he eased up her body and relaxed back on the couch, sated beyond belief.

“Wow.”

He kissed her again in reply. She sought the buckle of his belt, wanting him inside her. Wanting it now.

His hand stilled her and he spoke in a tortured tone. “Not now, sweet. I haven’t got any condoms and I have to rush off to a meeting in a moment.”

“A meeting?” The question of how long the meeting would last hung unspoken between them.

He could read her thoughts. “Yes, unfortunately I think it’ll be a late one. I’ll miss you tonight.”

She nodded, her lips pursed. She’d miss him too. Unfortunately she wouldn’t just miss his physical presence, she’d miss much more. She’d come to like seeing him at her table eating dinner. Having him in her living room with one arm wrapped around her shoulder and his feet resting up on the coffee table as they listened to music or watched a movie. She loved the way he teased Fred but whenever he thought she wasn’t looking, she caught them close and personal, exchanging affection.

She couldn’t believe it had only been a matter of weeks—already she couldn’t remember a time in her life where Cameron hadn’t been her every thought and desire. She’d miss him all right.