Winning Alex: The Cameron Family Saga

by Shirley Larson

  On another trip to the island of St. John, we’d left a cold and wintry Rochester to tour a hotel Hunter had wanted Alex to check out. Alex thought it was a tear down. I said, “No, it could really work. It’s got a quirky charm all its own.”

  “Like you?” he said, one eyebrow raised.

  In all the time we’d worked together, he’d never made a personal remark. I was thrown. I started babbling. “It’s part Victorian with a gabled roof and half Caribbean with a red façade. People would walk up to check in and think they were really in Paradise.” I walked away from Alex to collect myself. “See,” I said, “it’s got that great little Juliet balcony.”

  “It’s a tear down,” Alex said flatly.

  Still rattled by that back-handed compliment, I forgot myself. “You have absolutely no romance in your soul.”

  He stopped his trek through the sandy brown grass around the building and said, “What makes you think I have a soul?”

  That stopped me cold. I didn’t know what to say. Finally I said, “Everybody has a soul.”

  It was if I hadn’t said a thing. He held up his camera phone and went on clicking pictures. After Alex had sent them to his brother along with the text, Susan likes the place but I think it’s a tear down, he said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m in no hurry to rush back to the cold and snow. Why don’t we take some time and go to the beach?”

  If he’d said, Why don’t we lie down on the ground and have sex, I couldn’t have been more surprised.

  I said, “I don’t have a swim suit.”

  “You could buy one,” he said with that slight smile that I loved. “You should be able to afford it.”

  Back at the hotel gift shop, I bought a black bikini swim suit, a lacy cover up to match, a huge beach towel and a tube of sun screen. Just for fun, I added a floppy hat. When I emerged from my hotel room, Alex leaned against the wall, waiting for me. He was already in his swim suit with a white towel slung over his shoulders and sun glasses covering his eyes.

  In the elevator down, I had all I could do to keep my eyes off that hard abdomen sprinkled with dark hairs and those long legs. Even his feet were beautiful, slender and well-formed. That was when I knew I had it really bad, when I started admiring his feet.

  The beach was directly in front of the hotel. We walked beside each other, beach towels slung over our shoulders.

  People say they go to the Caribbean for the weather and the ocean, but I think what they really go for is the sight of all the nearly naked bodies. The weather is warm, clothes are at a minimum. There are acres of bare skin everywhere you look. There’s that added relief, and you’ll probably think this is odd, of being in a place where it’s impossible to freeze to death. The only danger from weather here is the occasional hurricane.

  I spread my towel and sat down. Alex did the same, right next to me and then slid his sunglasses on over his nose. A little self-consciously, I began to apply the sun screen on my throat, arms and legs.

  “Here,” he said. “Roll over and let me spread some on your back.”

  He sounded exactly like he always did, cool and matter of fact. I told myself it was no different than as if he were Betsy, but when those masculine hands began smoothing the lotion over my bare skin, I knew there was no stretch of imagination on earth that would make me believe this was Betsy.

  I could feel him undoing my bra strap and rubbing lotion all over my now completely bare back, his hands coming dangerously close to the swell on the underside of my breast. I told myself to breathe and act normal. If he didn’t consider this unusual, why should I? His hands moved to the rounded part of my buttocks that were exposed below the strings of my suit. As he spread the sun screen, he pushed up on my cheeks, a move that had me instantly hot. Oh, dear heaven. Every cell in my body stung with anticipation that would never be gratified. When it seemed like he would have spread enough sunscreen in that area, he just kept massaging my rear end, most of my flesh available to him around my bikini. I wanted to protest, but again, if I did, I would be making more out of this than perhaps he intended. If I thought that was bad, his hand was now between my legs, spreading sunscreen in that intimate area of my thighs that I couldn’t believe he was touching. There was only that tiny strip of material between his hand and my core. Did he know he was driving me crazy? I think he did. And I think he was doing it on purpose. With my bra strap down, I was trapped. I couldn’t raise up and protest. The trouble was, I didn’t want to protest. I wanted him to go right on doing what he was doing…and more.

  He rubbed both sides of that intimate area. Around the outside of my thighs and back again to that place between my legs. Just as I thought he was going to push aside the tiny strip of fabric and I would feel his fingers inside me, his hand stilled. If I knew the male libido, and I did know something about it, he was forcing himself to quit before we were past the point of no return.

  I felt his hands leave me. I could hardly breathe I was so aroused. But those strong fingers were now pulling my bra strap together and fastening it.

  I rolled over and said quite idiotically, “Thank you…for covering me with sunscreen.”

  “My pleasure,” he said and there was a dark huskiness in his voice that told me he knew he‘d taken advantage of me…and that I had let him.

  He sat looking out at the ocean, his face totally enigmatic behind those dark mirrored glasses. But I could see that he was as aroused as I was. After a long silence, he said, “I was out of line.”

  “No, you weren’t. I…participated.”

  “You have a beautiful body. But this can’t happen again.”

  He was right, of course, but I didn’t want to admit it. I wanted it to happen again. And more.

  We stared out at the shining waves and the rolling surf, me still in a state of arousal and disappointment. I doubted if Alex was much better off.

  We saw him at the same time, the boy who was maybe twelve years old, struggling in the surf. I thought he would be okay and climb back on his surfboard. But he didn’t. He seemed to be caught. We could see him lift his head and then go under.

  Now really alarmed, I stood up, trying to see him better. “He’s crying for help but no one can hear him over the roar of the surf. Something’s really wrong with him.”

  Alex leaped up and dashed through the sand and into the water. I went after him a few feet behind. Alex swam to where the boy was, not very far from shore. He quickly extracted the lad from the surf board and lifted him out of the water. The boy was coughing, which was a good sign. It meant he was able to get the water out of his throat.

  It did something to me, watching Alex come out of the ocean with that boy in his arms, the surf board trailing behind. The boy’s leg was twisted awkwardly. It looked as if it were broken. That was why he couldn’t get back up on his board. It did something to the boy’s parents too, to see Alex carrying their son. They came running. The father took the boy out of Alex’s arms and the mother fell on Alex, thanking him over and over. I walked a bit away, wanting Alex to receive the parents’ gratitude in private. When they departed, the boy in the arms of his father, his mother continually touching her son as if to assure herself he was there, Alex returned to me.

  I said, “That was…you acted so quickly.”

  “Just in the right place at the right time.”

  I wanted to express my admiration more fully, but as always, I sensed that was not what Alex wanted. Still I blundered on. “You saved his life.”

  “No big deal.”

  “It is a big deal,” I insisted. “You knew just what to do.”

  “Forget it.” He was starting to look annoyed.

  “I can’t forget it. You were…wonderful.” I was making him uncomfortable and I loved it. He deserved it after what he did to me, coming so near to touching me and then retreating.

  “Susan, just…stop.”

  The devil sat on my shoulder, urging me on. “You’re a super hero, Alex.”

  “Susan…” he warned
me. He had gone from annoyed to menacing. But what was he going to do to me here on a public beach…that he hadn‘t already done?

  I sang in my best children‘s playground voice, “Alex is a super hero, Alex is a super hero.”

  Before I knew what was happening, he scooped me up and headed out for the ocean. I knew where this was going, but I didn‘t care. I was actually in Alex‘s arms, lying against his hard abdomen. He kept going out deeper and deeper until the water splashed my butt. He was considerate enough to stop and ask, “Can you swim?”

  “Yes, but I’d prefer not to do it like this...”

  He opened his arms and dropped me. I went under, water up my nose, flailing my arms, trying to get my feet under me.

  I came up sputtering. He’d retreated closer to the shore. I walked toward him with my most menacing face. I pushed my hair out of my eyes thinking I must look anything but beautiful at the moment.

  “Sorry about your hair. Although you’re the most attractive-looking drowned rat I’ve seen in a while…”

  A drowned rat? I was more determined than ever to take my revenge. I kept walking. “How would you like to be buried in the sand?”

  “Not much. I don’t like sand in my ears. Sus…san. Remember I’m your boss.” He backed away, his hands up. He tried to look stern, but he was smiling. Alex was actually playing with me.

  “You lost all boss immunity when you dropped me in the ocean.” Quick as a cat, I gripped his shoulders and shoved, intending for him to go down in the shallow water. What I didn’t plan on was having him catch my shoulders and take me down with him. I also didn’t intend for him to take the brunt of the fall by landing on his back and then rolling in the water, putting me under him.

  We lay there in the sand staring at each other. Time seemed to stop. The ocean pulsed over us, water washing over our legs and then receding. A strand of his dark hair fell over his forehead. His eyes seemed to absorbing me, taking in every detail of my face. I could feel the cool water, the heat of the sun, the press of his chest on mine. More importantly, I could feel his erection. He couldn’t know it but I had the female equivalent. I was wet and ready. More than ready.

  In a tender lover’s gesture, his hand cupped my cheek. “I promised myself I wouldn’t cross this line,” he said huskily.

  “I know. I made the same promise.”

  “If you weren’t so damn perfect…”

  How blue his eyes were. And how potent he was with all his concentration centered on me. “I’m not perfect. I’m just perfect for you.”

  “You think so?” he said. “You don’t know me.”

  He rolled away from me then. My body ached with disappointment. I sat up and said indignantly, “Well, that’s a crock.” I couldn’t believe I was talking to Alex like this. “I’ve been with you practically twenty-four seven for weeks. How could I not know you?”

  “Get up,” he said. “We’re going home.” And just like that, the lover was gone.

  I stood in the hotel shower and let the lukewarm water pour over me. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, we had crossed the line. I thought, I hoped, there would be no going back. He couldn’t accuse me of throwing myself at him. He’d asked for the sun screen, he’d come so close to touching me intimately that I’d darn near died, he’d rolled on top me in the surf. He wanted me as much as I wanted him. He wanted me…and he didn’t want me. I have to admit, it was like dancing in the dark. I knew what he wanted…and then I didn’t know. What was I going to do now? How was I going to go on working with him when all this sexual tension shimmered between us?

  I got my answer. On the plane home, as we were seated in our usual spots across from each other in Cameron company private jet, he said, “Look this over.”

  He chucked a piece of paper across the table that separated us. It was a brief outline of the hotel we’d scoped out and it included my comments along with his. He must have put this together while he was waiting for me to pack.

  This was how he was going to play it, as if that interlude on the beach had never happened. I wanted to take one of my long legs and kick him under the table. I alternated between being angry and hurt. I knew I didn’t have the right, but darn it, he’d started it. My only question was…now what?

  Chapter 3

  I should have known. Back home it was business as usual, and I do mean business. It was, Susan I need you to look over this proposal and have it back to me in an hour. And: Alex, there’s a whole page missing from this contract. And: Susan, here’s the proposal for the purchase of that hotel we saw on St. John. My hotel. And: Alex, I’ve looked at the comps and I think the proposed purchase price is too high. And: Susan, send those comps to Hunter’s and Justin’s email.

  At night, I lay in bed looking at my cool industrial pipes and thought I was so much worse off now than I’d been before. Before I hadn’t known how wonderful Alex could be…or how sexy. Now I knew and it was killing me. I relived those moments when he was smoothing my back with sunscreen. I relived that moment when I’d seen Alex flounder slightly during his rescue and had that panic rise up in my throat for both Alex and the boy. But mostly I relived those moments in the surf when the ocean washed over me and I felt his hard body on top of mine. His hard and ready body.

  I was stuck. I couldn’t give up my high paying job and go back to the coffee shop just because I had a hankering for my boss and that hankering wasn’t reciprocated. I had to go on being tortured day by day by day.

  I celebrated Thanksgiving and Christmas with my Mom and Dad. They were full of questions about my job. I painted it in the best possible light. I told the truth, but just not the whole truth. On the day after Christmas, they came to see my loft and were quite amazed. I could tell they were relieved I had fallen on my feet.

  I was glad when the holidays were over. I’d wondered what Alex was doing. I supposed he was enjoying Christmas in the bosom of his large family. A few days later, I read about Justin’s marriage on Christmas Day. I was happy for him. Justin carried the burden of his health problems valiantly. I couldn’t tell a lot from the picture in the newspaper, but I was sure that Anne Cameron must be quite a woman.

  Back at work on Monday, I’d almost gotten used to receiving the same formal treatment from Alex, when he came out to my office on a Thursday afternoon and perched on the corner of my desk as he sometimes did.

  “My goddaughter is being christened this Saturday. I wondered if you’d like to attend the service with me.”

  This man would never lose his ability to amaze me. He’d treated me coldly ever since the Caribbean and now he was asking me to go to an intimate family affair? “I don’t know. I’m not sure I’d feel comfortable.”

  “Why not?” He gave me that cool, implacable look as if he didn’t have the vaguest idea what I was talking about.

  “I’d be a stranger attending a private family function.”

  “Come to the christening and then you won’t be a stranger anymore.”

  I could tell he was in his most imperial mood. He said, “I want you to come. Will you do this for me?”

  I wanted to say, am I coming as your companion or your assistant, or…what? “I suppose I could, if you want me to.”

  “Good,” he said, slapping his knees and getting down off my desk. “I’ll pick you up about ten-thirty Saturday morning. The service is at the downtown church. It will only take about twenty minutes I’m told. Then it’s back to the homestead to eat. Never a Cameron family get together without food.”

  He disappeared back in his office, leaving me sitting there, looking down at the contract I was supposed to be studying. All the words were blurred together. In the six weeks since we were on that Caribbean beach, he’d been nothing but coldly formal. I could take his coldness. I was used to his coldness. Why didn’t he stay cold? Why did he have me see-sawing back and forth like this? A boss who wanted to keep his distance from his assistant did not ask her to go with him to his goddaughter’s christening.

  What did o
ne wear to a christening? I’m pretty color conscious and it seemed like black, white and red were out. I had a nice sea green dress with a draped neckline that might be appropriate. Paired with a long red wool coat and fur lined boots, I should be both stylish and warm, a difficult trick to pull off in Rochester winters.

  He came for me in his red Grand Cherokee Jeep, a luxurious car that had no relationship to the army Jeeps of old. It had all the bells and whistles, a back-up camera, GPS, internal phone, leather seats that were already warm, and of course, four wheel drive. Very useful for those times when a snow storm dumped twenty inches on our fair city. Which it had done three weeks ago. Now the salt crews had been out and the snow was a mushy slush to drive through.

  “Madeline was born during that last snow storm we had. Justin barely made it to the hospital on time with Liz. Hunter was out of town,” Alex said. “Luckily for Justin, Anne was with them. She was Justin’s girlfriend then, and now she is his wife. She’s a registered nurse. She’s also expecting a child.”

  “Your family is fortunate to have children to continue the family name. I’m sure your mother is happy.”

  “Happy doesn’t describe our mother. Over the moon is closer. She had an episode a few years ago. It turns out she has afib. Totally treatable.”

  “I’m glad it wasn’t anything more serious.” I wanted to say…so now there’s only you and Lynne left to get married, but I knew better.

  The church was a historic landmark, all brick with Gothic spires. The family had gathered in a room off the sanctuary. Liz was there, bouncing the baby in her arms. Hunter watched them both and there was so much love in his eyes I could almost feel it. Justin stood with Anne, holding her hand. I liked the look of her. She was pretty, but it was more than that. She had very wise eyes and I thought she must have an old soul. Her sister Natalie stood beside Anne. She was a young teenager. Alex had told me that Natalie had leukemia, but she’d had a bone marrow transplant and was in remission. Then there was Amelia Cameron. She was seated in a chair, looking like the nobility she was. Alex took my hand and headed straight toward her. He knelt down at her side and said, “How are you feeling, Mum?”