by Jennie Adams
She did feel happy and full of anticipation. About the work; it had nothing to do with the idea of strolling along beaches with a gorgeous man. A man who had the ability to turn her senses and her emotions to mush just by letting her see into the depths of his eyes.
Oh, Lally. That’s not a helpful thought to have!
‘You’re quite sure you’re happy with the style and design I want to use for the mosaic?’ She’d been up later than she should have been last night working on the fine-tuning of that design. Cam had been restless too. Lally had heard that, but only because she’d been awake anyway. He always tried hard not to disturb her sleep.
With ideas buzzing in her mind, Lally had sketched out her plan for the mosaic and had noted what colours she’d use for the various parts of it. She’d shown those plans to Cam this morning before they’d left the apartment. She thought about them again now to try to help her control her wayward thoughts.
‘I’m totally fine with it. You’re the artist at work in this situation, Lally. What you say about it goes.’
Cam had been very supportive of her ideas earlier too.
Lally rubbed her hands together. ‘Let’s see if we can find some suitable pebbles.’
Lally strolled the first part of the beach. She looked at pebbles scat tered here and there, bent to examine a shiny, flat rock weathered into smoothness by time and tide. Truly she didn’t think once about how good Cam looked in his jeans-shorts that reached just below his knees, running shoes and T-shirt. Not once.
Lally wore white capri-pants, runners and a red, short-sleeved blouse. Lately she’d been reaching more often for the few brighter clothes she had in her wardrobe.
You’ve been reaching for bright clothes, like the dress Cam pur chased for you that night.
Well, it wasn’t as though she couldn’t give herself permission to wear whatever colours she wanted to wear.
Really? You don’t think that’s just one indication that you’re attracted to Cam and you want to attract his attention right back the same way you worked to attract Sam’s attention six years ago?
What did one have to do with the other? Lally suppressed a frown.
‘Is that stone a yes as a keeper, or a no?’ Cam held the two empty pails in his hands. He gestured to the stone she was turning over and over in her hand.
‘Oh, um…’ Lally glanced at the stone blankly and back up into Cam’s face. He hadn’t shaved this morning, and her fingers itched to run through the light covering of beard growth. The texture would be prickly and silky at once.
If he kissed her, she would feel that silky prickliness against her mouth, brushing over the sensitive nerve-endings beneath her lower lip. It might not be smart, but Lally wanted Cam to give her that kiss. She glanced into his eyes and caught an equally aware, desire-filled expression there.
So why not just give in and kiss him, get a second taste of something that had felt rather like paradise?
How could one girl, who didn’t even want to be involved in such a way, miss a man’s kiss after having it just once? How could she miss it enough to think such thoughts when they were dangerous to her emotional well-being? She searched Cam’s eyes for the answer. But she wasn’t sure if she wanted to find it.
Then she remembered a different question. ‘The stone is smooth, beautifully rounded and a good colour. It’s definitely a keeper.’ She dropped it into the pail. She was supposed to be shopping for mosaic materials, not wishing she could kiss her boss.
Cam steered her in the direction of a ridge of pebbles that had been thrown up by the tide.
Lally bent to look and forced her mind to focus on the task of examining them and picking up the ones she thought had the best colours. She didn’t want to think about any of the rest of it.
For the first while, Lally was uneasy as they gathered their pebbles. But Cam was a good help, standing patiently while she chose stones, picking out others that complemented the colours and shapes she’d chosen, and eventually she began to relax.
‘Did you have any painting lessons at all? Non-traditional ones, I mean?’ Cam asked as she sifted a handful of pebbles through her fingers.
‘I painted a little during high school. Art classes, how to paint fruit in a bowl, that sort of thing. But I stopped after that.’ Lally dropped a few pebbles into the bucket and bent to scoop up more.
Cam reached down at the same time and their fingers brushed. The sound of the sea ebbing and flowing on the shoreline seemed louder as Lally’s breath stopped. Her gaze turned to Cam’s face and got caught in the deep green of his eyes.
‘Sorry. I wasn’t looking.’
‘I should let you check them first.’
They both went to get up, and Lally’s sneaker sank into the damp sand. It made a squishing sound, and she couldn’t hold back a slight smile. ‘Do you know? I wish I could feel the sand beneath my toes. I haven’t walked barefoot on a beach in ages.’
‘So take your shoes off and get the full experience.’ Cam said it in a teasing tone. His lips quirked and he bent to remove first one shoe, then the other.
His encouragement could have stabbed right through her. For wasn’t that exactly what she’d done to get herself in trouble in the past—been a hedonist? Indulged in what she wanted while blindly ignoring all warning signs that she might be headed for trouble?
That wasn’t the same, Lally. You’re just walking on the beach. Lally removed her shoes.
They abandoned both pairs right there, just like that. Well, Cam seemed more than comfortable. And what was the harm, really?
‘No one will take them.’ Cam glanced about. ‘It’s totally deserted here.’
He was right about that. When he set the bucket down and held out his hand to her, a little thrill went through Lally before she placed her hand in his and let him lead her to the water’s edge.
Cool sea-foam washed over her feet and splashed against her ankles. Cam’s hand felt warm and firm in comparison with the skin of her palm. As the water rolled out again, the sand sucked away beneath Lally’s feet.
‘I do love that sensation.’ She glanced up at Cam and smiled. ‘It’s sort of icky and wonderfully good all at once.’
Cam laughed and his gaze softened as he looked into her eyes. There was such tenderness in that one glimpse of time. His hand tightened on hers; Lally realised they were still holding hands and told herself that should stop—but she didn’t want to stop it. Particularly not when he looked at her this way.
Oh, but she needed to stop it, most of all because of that look; Lally broke away. ‘We’d better get back to looking for pebbles. It’s what we’re here for—the mosaic. I want to do a good job of it for you.’
So they searched for pebbles and gathered quite a few. Lally loved the texture, the smoothness rounded into the stones by the constant movement, time smoothing off the edges. She glanced at Cam and thought, if only life could be that simple. Her six-year-old edges were still way too sharp.
Cam crouched down to sift through some pale-white stones. He played them through his fingers. From where she stood nearby, Lally had a view of the top of his head, the way his hair grew, the strength of the back and side of his neck and all of his face in profile.
‘What do you think of these ones?’ He looked up, caught her gaze on him and the green of his eyes darkened.
Lally’s breath caught as her pulse sped up and her emotions responded to the expression in his eyes. He smiled then, and his smile was everything a woman could dream about. She wanted to melt into a puddle at his feet. She could have done that easily.
‘The pebbles look good. Yes, I’d like to keep those ones, and I have some more.’ Her fist closed about the ones she had gathered. She stepped forward and dropped them into the bucket beside him. ‘I, um, I’ll look further afield. Over there.’ She gestured randomly and forced herself to strike out away from him.
He let her go. That was good because they couldn’t be like this. She couldn’t be like this. When had she become
emotionally involved to the degree that she couldn’t look at him in profile without wanting to step forward, wrap her arms around him, hold him and not let go?
‘We’d better think about going if we’re to meet my mother at the allotted time,’ Cam said decisively as he stepped across the beach towards her about an hour later. He’d kept her supplied with buckets, but otherwise had left her alone.
Lally glanced up and her heart did it again—leapt, opened up, melted. She came forward with her current bucket brimming with stones; a mantra played in her head that she should play this cool, not let him see how he impacted on her.
‘That was good timing. I think I have enough of any colours I can get from this beach.’ She glanced down at her bucket and as she did failed to look where she was putting her foot. ‘Ouch!’
A sharp sen sa tion spread through her heel.
‘Let me see.’ Cam set his bucket down in the sand and had his fingers shackled firmly about her upper arm before she could even think.
It was natural to wrap her fingers around his strong forearm and use him for balance while she held her foot off the ground.
Cam looked at her foot, gently taking it in his other hand and turning it until he could see the bottom. Then he looked down into the sand. ‘You’ve cut it on a rock. It doesn’t look too deep, but it should be cleaned and dressed. Let’s get you to the car so we can take care of it properly.’
‘I might need your arm so I can hop along—’ Lally got that much out before he swept her up into his arms and her thoughts fractured.
Consciousness of the sting in her foot faded as Cam’s warm chest pressed against her arm and shoulder and his arms held her securely.
She’d been held by him like this before, at night at the top of the small, Adelaide-style skyscraper.
The whimsical thought brushed through her mind as her hands tightened together behind his neck. Lally told herself under no circumstances was she to stroke that neck, or in any other way reveal how being held by him made her feel.
You don’t think that melting into him like a boneless blob might give him a hint?
‘Okay. Let’s sit you here and I’ll take a proper look.’ Cam eased her into the passenger seat of the convertible and seemed to release his hold on her reluctantly. He knelt at her feet and checked the wound. ‘I’ve got a first aid kit. I think I can take care of this with cleaning solution and a couple of butterfly strips.’
‘It probably only needs a plaster. Really, most of the sting has gone already.’ Lally felt silly with her foot clasped in his hand and with him fussing over her. Silly and conscious of him all at once. ‘It’s just a cut. I’m sure if we clean it…’ She leaned forward to try to take a look.
Cam tightened his fingers on her foot. ‘I’ll clean it. You just sit tight and look beautiful.’ He reached past her to open the glove compartment and pulled out the first-aid kit. He rummaged through it for the items he wanted. ‘I’ve got a bandage too, so I can wrap that around it to make sure it all stays together when you put your shoe back on over the top.’
Lally sat back and let him take care of her, and he did, handling her foot gently and making sure he cleaned the wound thoroughly before he put on the steri-strips and covered it all in a bandage. He jogged back to the beach and retrieved both their pairs of shoes and the collection of stones, and helped her put her shoes on.
He was once again on his knees at her feet, a strong man who seemed completely comfortable kneeling before her, looking after her.
When he glanced up and caught her studying him, his gaze darkened as it had back on the beach—except now there was nowhere for Lally to go, nothing to do but acknowledge the way he made her feel.
His hands bracketed the seat on either side of her legs as he leaned closer. ‘I don’t like that you got hurt.’ His gaze was locked on her lips.
‘It wasn’t hurt badly, and you looked after me.’ He’d told her to sit back and look beautiful. His eyes had taken in the wildness of her hair and Lally had felt beautiful, lovely, appealing and desirable. She realised she hadn’t let herself feel that way for a long time.
His expression made her feel that way now. Lally caught her breath and a reserve inside her that had held together for six years frayed rather noticeably around its edges.
‘Lally.’ He murmured her name and leaned closer.
Lally heard her name and the warning in his tone as he spoke it.
Don’t let me, his tone seemed to say.
But she was too busy reacting, and that reaction was to lean towards him while he leaned towards her until they were almost nose-to-nose. She could smell the blunted, woodsy scent of his aftershave lotion where it had blended with his skin.
He smelled good. Lally wanted to press her nose to his neck and just inhale him.
‘God, Lally, when you look like that…’ Cam broke off and closed the remaining distance between them.
CHAPTER TEN
CAM’S lips drew closer. Every pore of Lally’s being wanted and needed his kiss. He kissed the side of her face in the shallow spot beneath her cheekbone. He kissed where her cheek creased when she smiled.
He kissed the edge of her lips with a teasing press; Lally turned her head and blindly sought the second full press of his lips to hers. She got it, and her eyelids felt way too heavy to hold open, so she let them flutter closed as he pressed more soft kisses to her lips, and she kissed him back just as softly.
The ocean rolled against the beach down on the shore. A seagull cried; Lally breathed Cam deep into her lungs and held him there.
His hands came up to clasp her shoulders, to brush gently over them and rub against her back. His fingertips worshipped the softness of her skin, and he made a sighing sound as though he’d found exactly what he’d been looking for and just wanted to enjoy it.
That slow, detailed attention swept Lally away more effectively than anything else would have. It was as though Cam took time in his hands and stilled it so they could have this, indulge in it and experience it in its fullest measure.
His lips pressed to hers.
Her mouth opened to him because he made what they were sharing feel so completely safe, so utterly right.
Lally forced her eyes open to seek his; slumberous green looked at her. He seemed so at ease, restful to the point almost of being sleepy. Lally didn’t know why that response in him made her feel powerful, but it did.
‘Lally.’ His fingers sifted through her hair, caught the long strands and played with them, before he pressed those fingers with just the right amount of pressure against the base of her skull and drew her forward so he could deepen their kiss.
Their tongues met, stroked.
Lally didn’t know how he did it, but somehow in his gentleness and focus Cam encouraged her to take whatever she wanted of him. He offered his tongue. She drew it into her mouth and explored the taste and texture. She felt her back arch as he gave a soft sound of pleasure and his arms drew her closer still.
His fingers pressed against her shoulders until their bodies were chest to chest. It felt good, it felt right, and Lally relaxed even more.
She didn’t know when the kiss changed, when slow became deep, when sultry became focused, when restful became hungry and desperate became need-filled; it just happened. Cam was kissing her utterly then, his mouth locked over hers. All of his focus and all of hers was fixed on this exchange, these sen sa tions.
Even as her hands rose to his chest, to his shoulders, Lally knew this kiss was different. This kiss was not Sam kissing her, relying on his charm to lead her to do whatever he wanted, to overwhelm her so she didn’t think about his motives, so she didn’t suspect them.
This kiss wasn’t like Cam’s last kiss either. That had been wonderful. This was more, so much more that Lally could not remember why she shouldn’t do this. She needed this, had to do this. Lally liked Cam, admired him, was attracted to him not only physically but to his thought processes, his creativity, his business acumen, drive, ambiti
on, attention to detail, enthusiasm for his work, imagination…
How could she fight this kind of attraction? It was more than she had ever felt for any other man, Sam included.
That fact got through to Lally as nothing else had. If she let herself follow this path, where would it end? How capable would she be of getting hurt? How could anything be more than Sam had been in her life? Sam had irrevocably changed it.
Lally had to stop this. Even now her instincts fought her mind. Her lips remained right where they were, pressed to Cam’s. Her hands slid to Cam’s upper arms, a precursor to letting go, but her fingers clasped those arms. Lally dropped her hands but they slid away from him slowly.
It was Cam who broke the kiss itself, his gaze already searching hers. What Lally imagined he saw there was echoed in his own expression.
Desire and caution, want and the need to stop.
‘Lally, we have to—’
‘We have to stop—’ Lally lost the words in the depths of his eyes, found them again in the drive inside her that insisted she keep herself safe, that she not get hurt again, not yield to feelings for a man who wouldn’t value them, not make a mess, create guilt—oh, so many things.
Cam was her boss, he was wealthy, famous and amazing, and Lally was the temporary housekeeper and assistant. Cam was very much out of her league. In the end he was as much out of her reach, as Sam should have been, if for other reasons. And Sam was part of Lally’s reason now, that tainted history.
The resignation in Cam’s eyes told her he felt the same way about this, at least to the extent that he knew this had to stop, that it wouldn’t be wise for them. What were his reasons?
‘We should get going. Your foot’s okay? It’s not hurting you?’ Cam put his shoes on while she settled herself properly in her seat.
‘It’s fine now that it’s cleaned and wrapped. And we don’t want to be late for dinner with your mother.’ Lally spoke the words through kiss-swollen lips, over the taste of him that was still on her tongue, trying to make sense when she couldn’t think straight.