bedroom door? Seriously?"
"Dead serious."
"Just curious," I said with forced civility. "Are you trying to insult me?"
"No. I'm trying to save both of us some trouble." He gave me a quick sideways glance. "The knocking – it's happened before."
"Wait, you mean from a nanny?"
"No."
"But—"
"More than one."
"Oh." On one hand, this wasn't surprising. I mean, just look at the guy. He was hot as sin, with a gorgeous face and a body to match. On top of that, he was rich and famous.
All things considered, was it any wonder that women were beating down his bedroom door?
Still, I heard myself say, "So this happens a lot?"
"You might say that."
By now, I felt so awkward, I hardly knew what to say. And why was he telling me this at all?
He didn't think I was going to do that, did he?
Going for a joke, I said, "Well, just so you know, I'm allergic to door-knocking."
Mason didn't laugh. He didn't even smile as he said, "Good."
When I said nothing in reply, he turned his head and gave me a look so cold, I almost froze in my seat. "Because I’m telling you in advance, I don't bang the help."
Chapter 13
Mason
I felt like a prick for saying it. But it needed to be said – not just to Cami, but to myself.
I liked her. I liked her more than I'd liked anyone in a long time. And, as if that weren't bad enough, I was more attracted to her than was safe.
On the upside, she was looking at me now like she'd rather sleep with a rattlesnake than me.
Good.
Mission accomplished.
From the passenger's seat, she said with slow precision, "The help?"
"Is there a problem?"
She was glaring now. "I can't believe you just called me that."
"Eh, don't worry," I said. "I've been called worse."
"Wow, that's a shocker."
I kept my gaze on the road. "Not really."
She made a sound of annoyance. "I was being sarcastic, as you darn well know."
I refused to get riled. "Nice of you to spell it out."
"Hey, I thought so," she said. "And let's get one thing straight. If you ever plan to call me 'the help' in front of Willow, you might as well turn this car around, right now."
"It's not a car."
"What?"
"It's an SUV."
"I don’t care if it's a flying magical bus," she said. "I mean it."
I gave her a sideways glance. She wasn't bluffing. Maybe it was time to throw her a bone. "Fair enough."
"I mean it," she said again.
"Yeah. I heard you the first time."
"Well, maybe it bears repeating," she said. "Because if you ever treat me with that kind of contempt in front of Willow – and if I take it, which I won't – she'll have contempt for me too."
"I doubt it."
"And why do you say that?"
"Because she's nicer than I am."
"Yeah," Cami scoffed, "Tell me something I don't know."
There was a lot she didn't know. For one thing, she didn't know how beautiful she was, even now, when she looked like she wanted to slap the shit out of me. Maybe I deserved it. But I needed her to stick around for the full year, or eleven months, or whatever it was.
I'd been through five nannies in the past two years – four in the past year alone. This wasn't good for anyone, especially my little sister.
And the way I saw it, the odds of Cami sticking would be a lot higher if there were no complications between us. No knocking on my door. No lingering looks over breakfast. No subtle hints or sly innuendos.
Maybe she wasn't the type. But I'd been surprised before, and never in a good way.
When I replied with only a shrug, Cami said, "And you do realize what will happen if you don't treat me with respect?"
"What?"
She turned sideways in the seat and gave me a slow, evil smile. "You'll be stuck with Livia."
"The hell I will."
"Or someone equally willing to take your crap." Her hands flew to her mouth. "Oh, fudge!"
"What?"
"I don't swear."
I didn't get it. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, I don't curse."
"Yeah, so?"
"So I just did."
I frowned. "Fudge?"
"No." She lowered her voice. "The c-word."
I gave her a long sideways look. "You sure about that? Because if you did, I must've missed it."
She sighed. "I didn't mean the big c-word. I meant the little c-word."
My eyebrows lifted. "So crap's a swearword now?"
"Well, it is on my list."
"Your list of what?"
"Banned words."
For some messed up reason, I wanted to smile. "So who banned them?"
"Me."
"Oh yeah? When?"
"When I decided to become a grade-school