stubborn men like you.’
A glint lit his eyes, and the corner of his mouth lifted. ‘I’m beginning to see that. Fine. He made no mention of my father’s health, but he was quite vocal about the fact that if I don’t come to the birthday bash this weekend I may as well relinquish my surname for good.’
His hand on her back slid upwards, the shift of fabric made her body melt back against him.
‘Them’s strong words,’ she said, her voice husky.
He pushed the hair he’d been playing with behind her ear. ‘Brendan’s been around the longest. He’s been indoctrinated. He doesn’t know any other type of words.’
‘Poor Brendan,’ she whispered.
‘Poor, poor Brendan.’
He leaned in and placed a kiss just below her ear, and she half forgot what they were talking about. And when he moved to nibble on her earlobe itself she forgot the other half.
An age later when he pulled away all she could remember was that they had agreed to a third date. ‘So, where to tomorrow? A spaceship? No, a submarine. It better be your basic, run-of-the-mill submarine or I’m out of there.’
‘I was thinking of taking you to the first place I ever built.’
She bit back a yawn. ‘Fine. But they’d better serve coffee. Three nights out in a row, and I’m afraid I might fade to a shadow.’
‘If that’s what it’ll take.’ With that he pulled her close and kissed her again. This time it was slow, soft, tender, mesmerising. He tasted of white wine and strawberries. He made every inch of her feel toasty warm. In that moment the word ‘yes’ felt like the easiest word in the entire world.
When he pulled away, he did so with discernible regret.
He groaned, spun her on the spot, gave her a small shove in the direction of her car and said, ‘Now get, before today becomes tomorrow and we both turn into pumpkins.’
As Rosie walked down the street she felt Cameron’s eyes on her the whole way. He obviously hadn’t believed her about her ability with her boots. Or maybe he just liked the view.
She added a swagger for good measure.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE sun was just beginning to rise but Cameron’s backside had already been parked atop a dry, paint-spattered stool for an hour as he earned his keep playing diplomat between Bruce, the project manager, and Hamish, the architect. With a month to go before completion, things were tense.
He slid a finger beneath his hard hat to wipe the gathering sweat from his brow, and was hit with the image of Rosalind wearing one the night before.
With those big, grey eyes and her long hair hanging in sexy waves beneath the orange monstrosity, she’d looked adorable. And he was entirely certain she’d had no idea. As a short-term distraction she was proving to be all he could have hoped for.
‘Kelly!’ Bruce called out, slamming Cameron back to earth with a thud.
‘What?’ he barked.
‘Where the hell have you been for the past five minutes? You sure as hell haven’t been on Planet Brisbane.’
Cameron frowned. But Bruce was right. Spending every spare moment with Rosalind was proving to be mighty helpful at distracting him from obsessing about his father. He just didn’t need that distraction spilling over into other areas of his life.
Since he’d been thrown out on his own, his business was his everything. It filled his waking hours, and many of his sleeping ones as well. It was his fuel, his drive, his passion. While on the other hand, Rosalind was…
‘Earth to Cameron,’ Bruce said, shaking his head.
Cameron mentally slapped himself across the back of the head. Enough, already.
‘I’m here,’ he growled. ‘Keep going.’
Bruce leant against a column and crossed his arms. ‘I was just telling Hamish here about your little tryst upstairs last night. Candles? Seafood?’
Cameron all but threw the handful of papers in his hands into the air in surrender.
Hamish pulled up a stool so that he was in Cameron’s direct eyeline. ‘Please tell me the big man’s been telling tales out of school. You did not bring some woman here after hours without proper supervision. Not a month out from signing off?’
Cameron stared hard at his mate. Hamish—who had known him since university, therefore knew him only as the ambitious, focussed, blinkered entrepreneur he had become—stared right on back.
‘God, Cam,’ Hamish drawled. ‘You had to be breaking a good dozen laws, not to mention union rules.’
‘You think I didn’t tell him that?’ Bruce asked.
But Hamish wasn’t done. In fact there was a distinct glint