The Mogul and the Muscle - Claire Kingsley Page 0,39
see him—or if the distance between us was due to the boobs incident earlier.
Maybe it was a bit of both.
I took a sip of my martini and pretended to study the sculpture. Maybe I should have been more embarrassed about Jude seeing me almost naked. I wasn’t an exhibitionist, but I was comfortable with nudity. In private, anyway. Growing up in Miami, I was accustomed to seeing men and women in barely-there outfits. String bikinis and Speedos were standard attire for much of the year.
At work and in public I always dressed professionally. I was the CEO of an aerospace company, and I was exceedingly careful to maintain the right image. I wore business suits even on weekends if I left the house. But home was where I could let my hair down—or take my top off. Most of my home staff had probably seen me topless at some point. I only hired people I trusted implicitly, and a little nudity didn’t bother me.
But I’d obviously made Jude uncomfortable. I’d thought we’d started to establish a relationship that was a little friendlier. More familiar. He’d started to feel more like a companion than a bodyguard.
Not tonight. He was all business, and I had a feeling that was my fault.
A man I recognized by sight and reputation wandered over to the piece I was pretending to admire. Nigel Houghton was a hotel mogul based in London, if I remembered correctly. He wore his button-down shirt and slate-gray slacks well. Neatly trimmed dark hair. Enough stubble to give him a masculine edge while still looking sleek and polished.
As far as I knew, he wasn’t part of Aldrich’s social circle, but I still felt a flash of worry that he’d seen the sex tape. My eyes darted to Jude, still standing off to the side. He was watching me, but didn’t meet my gaze.
Nigel stopped next to me, holding a glass of whiskey on the rocks. “Is it just me, or do these make no sense?”
Definitely London. He had a nice British accent.
I studied the shiny mass of twisting metal in shades of aqua and green. “I was thinking the same thing. “I have no idea what this is supposed to be.”
“That makes me feel better.” He held out his hand. “Nigel Houghton.”
I slipped mine in his firm grip and shook. “Cameron Whitbury.”
“Nice to meet you,” he said. “I think we’ve crossed paths once or twice, but never officially met.”
Either he was good at hiding his thoughts, or he hadn’t seen the sex tape. There was no hint of illicit recognition in his eyes. “It’s nice to meet you, too. What brings you to Miami? Other than the vibrant art scene, of course.”
His eyes flicked to the side, then back to me. “I’m looking at some investment properties.”
“For a new hotel?”
“Yes. My people predict steady growth in Miami’s tourism sector and we’re looking to gain a foothold in the area.”
“Then it sounds like now is a good time for new development.”
“Absolutely.” He seemed to look past me again. “But I don’t want to bore you with the details of real estate speculation. How terribly dull of me.”
“Not at all.” I doubted anything would sound dull in that accent of his. But I felt a tickle of discomfort in my belly. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be having a conversation that was even mildly flirtatious with another man.
Another man? What did that even mean? For there to be another man, there had to be a man, and I didn’t have a man in my life. Jude was watching me like a hawk because it was his job. Not because there was something between us. Just because the man had seen my boobs—and for a second had looked at me like he wanted to rip my bikini bottoms off with his teeth—didn’t mean I couldn’t have a nice conversation with a good-looking man at an art show.
“So tell me about you,” he said. There was that flick of his eyes again, but he took a subtle step closer. “You work in aerospace, do I recall that correctly?”
“Yes. Spencer Aeronautics. We started as a parts manufacturer and military contractor, but in the last several years we’ve moved toward an emphasis on rocket technology, particularly with passenger aircraft applications. And there I go being dull.”
“Not in the least.” He looked past me again and cleared his throat. “I suppose most people associate rockets with the military or defense systems. I didn’t realize there were commercial uses.”