One Perfect Night Page 12
“Blast.” Placing the mug on the bench, she went to the sink to get a cloth and passed the cat calendar her parents had given her for Christmas.
“Double blast,” she shrieked, registering the big bold print on today’s date.
Lunch with Mum and Dad.
“How could you have forgotten?”
Easy, replied that voice cheekily. Cameron’s effect on her hormones rendered her useless in other departments. She’d just have to call him and reschedule.
There was just one problem. She’d given him her mobile number that first night, but he’d never given her his.
Chapter Nine
“Good morning. Your chariot awaits!”
Standing in the doorway, dressed in faded cargo pants that clung to his hips and butt, a casual white cotton shirt that left none of his rippling muscles to the imagination and dark sunglasses pushed atop his head, Cameron stole Peppa’s breath. Unrepentant, she took a moment to let her gaze skim from his thick golden hair down over the male-model-like view to rest on his trendy loafers and wondered if perhaps her parents would be too disappointed if she cancelled on them instead.
“I agree. They’ve nothing on your shoe collection, but they’re comfortable and I don’t believe they look too terrible.”
Initially confused by his words, she realized he was making another one of his dry jokes. He’d caught her staring, yet his teasing tone said he didn’t mind one bit.
She breathed again and recalled the news she had to convey. “Sorry, Cameron, in all the excitement last night, I forgot that I’d organized to meet my folks for lunch. We’ll have to take a rain check on our date.”
“What?” The satisfied smile he’d been wearing since he arrived made way for a disbelieving frown. She’d bet there weren’t many woman in his past who’d broken a date with him and she hoped he didn’t take it personally.
“I’m meeting my parents at The Rocks in half an hour.”
“Can you cancel?” He tilted his head to one side and offered a smile that seemed far too sweet for the alpha male she knew him to be. “I’ll make it worth your while.” He took a step toward her. His cologne—a famously expensive brand she now recognized by his name not the designer’s—hit her like a shot of aphrodisiac.
Her pulse danced and her mouth went dry. She well believed it. “Do you have to make this harder than it already is?”
“What’s hard about it?” he asked, his hands skimming up her bare arms. She closed her eyes as he began a sensuous massage at the nape of her neck. “A day I promise will be off-the-radar in terms of what you’ve experienced before or a day with your parents, going over the same old stories you’ve been hearing for years.”
She opened her eyes, willing her self-control to rear its head and stamp its feet in the face of huge temptation. “I happen to love spending time with my family and my parents are driving down from the Blue Mountains especially. I’m not going to cancel on them at such short notice. I would have called and warned you but I don’t have any of your contact details.”
“Ah.” He scowled and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. “We’ll have to remedy that for the future.” He whipped out a business card and pressed it into her palm.
She closed her fingers around the card, trying not to startle at the zap when her hand touched his or look down and memorize every single one of his numbers. She didn’t want to appear desperate. “You know you’re more than welcome to join us if you like. My dad would love someone to chat business with.”
He stepped back and swung his keys on his index finger. “Thanks, but happy family lunches aren’t really my thing.”
“Suit yourself.” She tried to force her lips into a carefree smile. It was stupid to be disappointed—he wasn’t rejecting her. They’d agreed this thing between them was not leading into a relationship and even if it did, they certainly weren’t anywhere near meet-the-parents territory.
“Hey.” He stilled his keys and lifted her chin up, making certain she looked straight into his deep, alluring gaze. “I’m not giving up on spending the day with you.”
“Oh?” Her heart did a flip.
“How long do you think this lunch will go for?”
“Well, my dad is old school and likes to arrive home before its dark, so we’ll probably be finished within a few hours.”
“Great.” A broad beam spread across his irresistible jaw line. “I’ll go do some paperwork at the office and then we’ll meet at three. The place I have in mind is on the harbor, so it makes sense for us to meet there. Let’s say three o’clock on the Darling Harbor Bridge.”
“Sounds fabulous.” She waved his business card between them like a winning lottery ticket. “And if I’m running late, I’ll call.”
“Trust me, honey, you won’t be late.” He leaned forward and pressed a hard, promising kiss against her lips, before turning and striding down the corridor.
Her lips tingling, Peppa tried to feel annoyed by his statement. But aside from being confident, arrogant and handsome beyond belief, he was also frustratingly right. She wouldn’t be late… She was already counting down the seconds until their rendezvous.
As Cameron strode along the bridge at Darling Harbor, he pushed his sunglasses up on to his head, focusing his gaze ahead on the lookout for Penelope. Although everyone else seemed to call her Peppa, he couldn’t bring himself to think of her that way. He kind of liked the fact he was the only one who used her full name and more so the fact she didn’t despise it when he did so.
He skirted round a teenager on a skateboard and a young couple pushing a pram, and when he refocused, he saw her. She stood leaning over the rails, her head stooped as if she were peering intently into the waters below. She had on the red sundress she’d been wearing earlier.
As the hot breeze skimmed along the bridge, the skirt lifted slightly, treating him to an image he’d been trying to forget for the last few hours. Pale, bare, slim thighs. Hell, who was he kidding? An image he’d been trying to banish since that lethal night on Christmas Eve.
He paused for a moment to steady his breathing and collect his hormones. He wasn’t some randy teenager. And although Penelope knew where they stood regarding each other, he shouldn’t forget that ultimately he was her boss. The loud horn of a ferry shattered his thoughts and he moved to greet her.
Probably accustomed to the noise of passing tourists, she didn’t startle at his approach. He grabbed the opportunity to surprise her, wrapping his hands around her head to cover her eyes.
He leaned in close and whispered, “Guess who?”
She peeled back his hands and spun round, a smile lighting her features. “Afternoon, Cameron.” Her voice was mischievous, seductive. It made him want to tug her tight against his body and lose himself in those lips once again.
But, quite aside from the very public location, he knew if he had even the tiniest taste of her lush mouth, he wouldn’t want to stop. And he had big plans for the rest of the day.
“Afternoon yourself.” He offered her his hand. “Shall we?”
She took it. “We shall.” And he led her off the bridge toward the dock where his pride and joy waited, having been rigged and ready since very early that morning.
“How was lunch?” he asked while they meandered past happy families and couples whiling away the day in the popular tourist district.
“Delicious. Did you get much work done?”
“Enough,” he lied. Truthfully he’d done nothing more than open up his email account. He’d tried to read, had even skimmed to the bottom of a few emails from important clients, but he couldn’t recall a word of any. His sole focus had been on Penelope. Penelope and how he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of the day introducing her to one of his favorite pastimes and hopefully indulging in one of their joint ones.
They talked as they walked, about inane little things like favorite television shows and restaurants that had lost their favor. There were only a few gaps in conversation but not one uncomfortable silence between th
em. It unnerved Cameron that he’d only known Penelope a week, had only spent a matter of hours in her company—it felt like much, much longer. Something he wasn’t ready to think about.
“It’s a boat,” she said, her face a picture of astonishment when they finally stopped alongside Tiana.
“Actually, it’s a yacht. A custom-designed, top-of-the-range Beneteau. You can’t just pick these up at the local dealer.”
“Sorry.” She laughed, her gaze twisting back to him for a moment. “Boys and their toys, hey?”
“This is no toy. But it is a lot of fun. And this afternoon I plan on showing you just how much. I’m going to teach you to sail.”
Her gorgeous jade eyes widened. “You’re going to let me get my paws on that?”
He nodded and squeezed her hand. “But first the grand tour. Coming aboard?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
He took things slow, letting Penelope peruse the deck and ask questions about everything from the boom to the burgee before he welcomed her into the depths below. He knew it was impressive. In the weeks, months, following Kristen death, he’d wanted something to take his mind off the memories and gut-wrenching anguish that had taken residence inside his chest. Having always had a passion for the sea, he’d chosen to spend the money he’d dreamed of spending on his family on a luxurious cruiser instead. And it had been money well spent. He’d enjoyed many a reckless weekend on board, forgetting about the burdens of corporate life—of life in general—but this was the first time he’d invited a woman here.
A fact he wasn’t about to ponder.
“There’s a bed.” Penelope stared at the large divan with its elaborate crimson covers and cushions as they came to the entrance of the captain’s bedroom.
He hadn’t bargained on the rush of desire that would come at having her in this room. “That there is,” he replied dryly. “As I explained, sailing can be exhausting.”
She nodded slowly, pursing her lips together and then catching the lower one between her teeth as if digesting this information. Still her gaze remained on the bed. He followed it, unable to stop the image of her lying naked in the middle of it rushing to the forefront of his mind.
Dammit. One of them needed to say something before all his plans for seafaring flew out the porthole and he seduced her fast and furious without even turning back the covers.
Words eluded him but he gripped her wrists and tugged her out of the bedroom, yanking the door shut behind them. There’d be plenty of time for that later.
He showed her the bathroom next, very briefly for fear they’d both get ideas about christening the spa. Then the lounge area, the bar and the kitchenette. He bypassed the guest room on purpose—neither of them needed to see another bed—and breathed in a sigh of relief when they emerged back on deck.
“Alright, you ready to hit the seas?”
She saluted him with a smile. “Aye aye, captain. At your beck and call.”
“Come here.” He pulled her close, again resisting the urge to kiss and caress, and began to show her the basics.
She was a quick learner. Soon they were heading out into more open waters, farther away from the other yachts that littered the harbor. He knew a nice secluded spot not too far up the coast and he had a gourmet afternoon tea in a picnic basket ready to serve on the deck.
“Swing the wheel left,” he said as they neared the area he’d chosen. He looked toward a quiet inlet.
She swung right.
“Where are you going?” he asked, slightly bemused. But hey, if this gorgeous lady wanted to lead him elsewhere, he’d gladly follow.
“Just following your directions.”
“Uh…no, you’re not. I said swing left.”
“I am.” She turned even more in the wrong direction.
“Honey.” Standing behind her, he stilled her hands with his own. “Do you even know the difference between left and right?”
He felt her hands stiffen. “Of course I do.” Her voice was stilted and lacked conviction, then she added, “If I make a concerted effort to think about it.”
He couldn’t stop the chuckle escaping his mouth. “Looks like women sailors are as dangerous as women drivers,” he teased, knowing he was asking for trouble.
“Oh really?” She spun round and, before he could predict what the wicked gleam in her eyes meant, she palmed his chest and pushed hard.
The back of his knees rammed into the side of the yacht. His balance failed and as he tumbled backward into the ocean, the last words he heard were something about men all being the same.
The water tepid from a day in the sun, his unexpected dive wasn’t unpleasant at all. He swam to the surface, shaking some water from his hair as he looked right up at her. “I guess I deserved that.”
Peppa leaned over the edge of Cameron’s yacht, her heart beating rapidly. She’d only given what she thought was a playful shove. She hadn’t meant to push him into the water. “Sorry,” she called, glancing around frantically for a rescue ring. She made the mistake of looking back and her limbs liquefied at the sight. It was as if Neptune himself was treading water. She fought the urge to fan her face.
He laughed, the deep chuckle echoing on the water. “Don’t worry. Release the anchor and come on in.”
She shook her head, gesturing to her sundress. “I haven’t got anything else to wear.”
“So take it off.”
Her eyes widened as she looked across the seas. Just because theirs was the only vessel in sight didn’t mean she could dive into the ocean buck naked.
He must have read her thoughts. “You’re wearing a bra and knickers, aren’t you? Let them double as a bikini. Come on…it’s gorgeous in here.”
Still doubtful, she glanced about for the anchor nonetheless.
Reading her thoughts, he shouted, “There’s a red button near the wheel.”
Oh what the hell? She found the button and pressed it hard, pretending like she had some kind of clue what she was doing. Within seconds a whirring noise sounded and the anchor attached to the bow dropped into the sea.
“Definitely a quick learner,” yelled Cameron.
Uplifted by his comment, she smiled and, aware his eyes were glued on her every action, she slowly twisted her arm behind her back to reach for the zip on her sundress. The sun bore down on the deck but it wasn’t responsible for the heat flooding her body. She slid the zip down, trying to concentrate on the cool reflection of the water. As her dress pooled onto the deck, Cameron let out an appreciative wolf whistle.
Smothering the pleased curl of her lips, she tiptoed to the edge of the yacht. “Are you sure there are no sharks lurking in there?”
“Sweetheart, the sharks are the least of your worries.”
“Really? In that case…” She pointed her arms into an arrow above her head, stooped at the waist and dived into the sea in what she hoped was a graceful act.
The water was tepid, blissful. She opened her eyes and located two gorgeously muscular legs and a torso to die for. Somehow she managed to burst through the surface right in front of his face.
“You’re far too trusting of predators,” he drawled. It was impossible to miss the wicked lilt of his lips and the seductive sin in his eyes. “It’s payback time.”
“Excuse me?” Before she could comprehend what he meant or spin around and try to get away, he’d wrapped his legs around her waist and pulled back so she was somehow lying on top of him. Her lips centimeters from his, her sopping wet bra pressing against his sopping wet T-shirt and, well, something hard and pleasurably tormenting pressing against her inner thighs.
“You better have a good hold of me,” she whispered, thinking that if this were punishment for pushing him overboard, she could become a very, very naughty girl, “because right now I have no strength at all.”
“Really?” His voice was laced with satisfaction and husky-hot against her cheek. “Then I guess you’ll have no strength to stop me doing this.”
In a s
plit second, he reached behind her back and snapped the clasp of her bra. One tug and she watched half of her favorite set of underwear wash away on the gentle waves.
“Cameron!” she admonished.
“Yes?” he replied, feigning innocence.
“What if another yacht comes along?” She wriggled free of his legs, stealing back some kind of control and began treading water alongside him.
He shrugged. “What if?” And pressed his mouth hot and hard against hers.
Resistance was futile. Their legs working to keep them above water, she crept her hands under the back of his T-shirt and skimmed them all over his taut back. He captured her breasts, teasing her nipples with fingers and tongue before delving lower and toying with the elastic of her panties.
“No way,” she said, pulling back and covering his hands with hers to stop him. “I’m not losing my knickers as well.”
“In that case, let’s take this on board.”
“No complaints here.”
They swam toward the yacht with such determination there might as well have been a shark tailing them. He helped her on board and then led her hurriedly beneath the deck.
If his bed had looked inviting before, it looked downright irresistible now. Not to mention its owner who stood tall and tempting, every curve of muscle highlighted beneath the wet material of his outfit. She reached out a finger and ran it from his Adam’s apple right down the center of his chest, stopping just short of his belt buckle.
His muscles rippled beneath her touch. “Don’t stop now, princess.”
It was all the invitation she needed. Slowly—not sure who she was teasing more—she peeled his T-shirt off as if it were an extra layer of skin. Next came the buckle. She fumbled slightly at first, energized by the prospect of what lay beneath, but it was still only a matter of moments before the belt came undone and he let her tug his cargos off. He must have kicked his shoes and socks off at the door because all of a sudden the only scraps of material between them were his boxers and her knickers.