His biggest mistake had been confiding all to Katrina, and hadn’t she had her moment of glory with the poster campaign? He’s not the man you think he is.
He would not make the same mistake with Didi.
‘Come back to bed, Cameron.’
Her arms slid around his back, her hands splayed over his chest—not provocative or teasing—just…easy. Soothing. He hadn’t heard her approach but she was warm and suddenly very welcome. Her hair felt like soft warm rain against his skin. He knew if he looked into her eyes he’d see understanding. She didn’t understand of course, but she cared. Perhaps she wouldn’t if she knew, but for now it was enough that she was here.
Wordlessly he turned into her embrace.
Where he knew he was wanted.
Where he wanted to be.
He showed her how much with nips and open-mouth kisses beneath her ear, down her throat, while he let his hands glide over the dips and curves. How good they could be together—were together.
She responded with little murmurs and sighs. No words. As if she understood he didn’t want them. She seemed to know just what he needed, yet how could she? She’d known him a matter of days.
Warmth stole through him like a thief, catching him unawares. He’d been damn rude to her—how long had it been since any woman had shown him anything approaching compassion? And he’d cut her off.
He wanted to hold her again in a fever of passion and have her body once more, apologise, but the strength had drained out of him. So he stroked her hair and simply held her. Within her aura he could forget the dark and live in the light.
As long as he kept his past private, so long as he didn’t let emotion get the upper hand, there was no reason they couldn’t continue what they’d started.
Didi woke to the pink pearl light of morning, the conversation they’d had before they’d fallen asleep fresh in her mind. She could still feel Cameron’s emotional scars as if they were carved into his flesh, and wanted to weep. And comfort.
But when she opened her eyes and turned to him she discovered she was alone. A note written on the hotel’s stationery lay on the crisp white pillow beside her.
Good morning, Didi,
I’ve gone to the hospital to check on Lizzie before I head in to the office…
She frowned. He worked on a Saturday? Yeah, that sounded like him. She read on.
Sleep in for a bit, ring room service and order up breakfast; it’s already paid for. I’ve arranged for a taxi to take you home when you’re ready, speak to Concierge. Have a productive day. Cam.
PS I’ll feed Charlie on my way, no need to rush.
PPS Thank you for last night.
She basked in the warm glow of his PPS for a few seconds. Then shook it off. Silly girl. He hadn’t meant last night as in last night—the way she wanted him to mean last night—he meant her help at the community centre.
Didn’t he?
He’d booked the cab and paid for breakfast. So despite his own problems he’d thought of her well-being this morning. Don’t get used to it. He was pampering her because he wanted her productive.
So she sat up in bed, dialled room service and ordered the biggest breakfast on the menu, since she’d not indulged in that particular luxury in a long time.
She fluffed her pillows, pulled the sheet up to her chin and lay back to wait for her meal. Theirs wasn’t a relationship where they shared intimacies of the family kind; at least on his part. It was all about business—he wanted an artist who could deliver a product.
And it was all about sex. Great sex, the hottest sex she’d ever had. With the most attentive lover she’d ever known. But it was still sex without intimacy.
A problem. Because against all her good intentions to adhere to the rules they’d agreed on she was falling for him—her casual no-strings walk-away-when-it’s-done lover. Which should not mean she wanted to know him better on a personal level. She should not want to know more about his family.
A sixth sense told her there was more to the situation than drugs and violence. How to get him to open up—or not—was the million-dollar question. Would it draw them closer or push them apart?
‘Hi.’
Didi’s needle slipped, spilling the gold beads she was threading as her heart did a little flutter. Scooping them into her palm, she put them back in their container and looked at him over her glasses. ‘Hi.’
She hadn’t heard Cameron come in over the sound of the stereo. He was wearing khaki trousers and a casual navy shirt. He looked a little ragged around the edges. Running on the little amount of sleep he must have had, she wasn’t surprised. Her heart fluttered again at the reason for his lack of shut-eye. ‘How’s Lizzie?’