by Jo Victor
“Why don’t you find us some candles while I put the finishing touches on the meal?” Alex walked away, stopping to put the perry in the fridge before going over to the stove.
Cam managed to start breathing again. Candles. She could do that. Probably.
*
Alex clutched the edge of the stove to try and steady herself. She could hear Cam moving around near the fireplace and she was very glad for the concealing darkness. She was sure her face must be as red as the dress she was wearing. What the hell could possibly have possessed her just now? She never did things like that.
Time to get a grip. She needed to finish getting dinner ready. As she peered through the dimness to start the pasta cooking, a thought struck her. Maybe it was the dress.
The minute she had tried it on yesterday, she had felt different. Something about the way it was cut, the way it hugged her curves on top, the way the skirt flared out around her legs, made her want to move, to dance. Almost without realizing it, she had started to shift and sway, rocking her hips to a slow beat pulsing somewhere in her imagination. And that of course had made her think of Cam—dancing with her, holding her, kissing her. It gave her the shivers, but in a good way. A really good way. Even Nicola had been a little affected by the way it looked, if her blushing face was anything to go by.
So anyway, here she was, all decked out in soft, silky crimson and behaving completely out of character. It was like a fairy tale featuring some kind of magical clothing—like a pair of slippers or a cloak—something that casts a spell on anyone who wears it, transforming them, rendering them unrecognizable. Although with most such stories, ultimately the enchanted garment ends up revealing the truth rather than concealing it. So maybe this was the real her that the dress had unleashed.
Well, at the very least it was practical, since the red color would conceal any sauce-related mishaps. Hopefully Cam’s white shirt would survive unscathed. It looked so good on her, it would be a shame if it got stained. Of course, if that happened, she could always offer to wash it for her—right away, naturally. She smiled, wondering what Cam was wearing under it. It would be very, very wrong of her to hope for the worst just so she could find out.
By now the room was much brighter. Cam had managed to locate and light several candles and was moving around the room positioning them on the counters and the table. Meanwhile Alex drained the pasta and transferred it to a large bowl. She mixed in parmesan cheese and, after giving it a moment to melt, added a ladle of sauce and tossed the pasta enough to lightly coat it. She served up two generous platefuls, added more sauce to each, and picked up both dishes, intending to carry them to the table.
But when she turned around, Cam was standing there, practically right on top of her. She hadn’t realized Cam was so close. For a moment it looked like disaster was about to strike.
But Cam reached out and put both hands on her waist, steadying her so she could move the plates out to either side, out of range. Then she took a good look at Cam’s face and forgot all about the food, and everything else.
Cam stood still, gazing at Alex, feeling her warmth right through the thin fabric beneath her hands. She took a moment to regret having startled her, but she hadn’t been able to help herself. When she’d looked up from setting the last of the candles in place, she had really seen Alex for the first time that evening and had watched, captivated, as she moved back and forth, lifting and pouring and stirring, one motion flowing into the next, the shimmering fabric of her dress catching the flickering candlelight with every movement.
Cam couldn’t help herself—she was drawn to Alex, almost in a trance. She wasn’t thinking, only feeling. She had to get closer, had to touch her.
And now that she had her hands on her, she needed more. She opened her mouth to apologize for the near collision but all that came out was, “So beautiful.” She closed the fraction of distance between them and kissed her. Gently at first, but then with more passion. She loved the feel of her, the taste of her. She became aware that Alex was pulling back, pulling away, and reluctantly, she broke off the kiss.
Alex said something. She looked upset. Worried, Cam studied her face, wondering what she had done, but a beat later the words “I’m going to drop them” finally penetrated her brain and she kicked into gear, grabbing both plates just in time.
A moment of frantic juggling later, she had them balanced just enough to get them onto the table, more or less intact. A little sauce had spilled over the side onto her hand and reflexively she licked it off.
And groaned. It was that good.
Chapter Nineteen
Alex, grateful for Cam’s dexterity in rescuing their dinner, was almost as delighted by Cam’s obvious pleasure in her cooking as she had been by the kiss that she’d unfortunately had to break away from.
“Come sit down and eat before it gets cold.”
Cam started to sit, only to stop and go over to the counter near the stove, opening first one drawer, then another.
“What are you looking for?”
“A spoon, of course. Ah, here were are.”
“Put that back this instant.”
“Why? How else am I going to eat my pasta?”
“That sound you hear is my grandmother rolling over in her grave. Spoons are for soup. You eat pasta with a fork.”
“Maybe you do, lass. Us ordinary folk need a bit of help.”
Alex crossed her arms and gave Cam a fake-serious glare. “Come and sit down and I’ll show you what to do.” When Cam didn’t immediately comply, she added, “At least try it. Someone as good with her hands as you are shouldn’t have any trouble.”
Cam shot her a grin and sat. “When you put it that way, how can I refuse?” She picked up her fork. “All right. How do I eat my spaghetti with just this?”
“This isn’t spaghetti. It’s fettuccine. When a sauce is this thick, you have to eat it with flat pasta. If you use spaghetti it just falls off.” Cam gave her a look. “Sorry. I’m only slightly obsessed.” She picked up her own fork. “Okay. The first thing you do is catch a little of the pasta with your fork—just a strand or two—and lift it up a bit, away from the rest. That’s it. Then you put the tines down on a bare spot—try the edge of the plate. Okay. Now slowly start to twirl it, keeping the tines in contact with the plate the whole time.”
By the time Cam had finished laboriously twirling, she had a mound of fettuccine the size of a Ping-Pong ball on the end of her fork. She held it up like a pasta lollipop and looked dubiously at Alex, who couldn’t help laughing.
It took a few more tries, and a lot of laughter, but eventually Cam got the hang of it.
“Now you can add regulation pasta eating to your catalog of impressive accomplishments. Be sure to update your social media profile—what woman could resist?”
“I don’t have a profile. Besides, there’s only one woman I care about impressing. And I don’t need to go online to find her.”
The look that accompanied this statement made Alex stop breathing for a moment. She blinked, suddenly very nervous. Trying for a casual tone, she said, “If that’s supposed to mean me, you don’t need to bother trying to impress me.”
“It’s a hopeless cause, then, is it?” Cam’s tone was light, but her eyes were wary.
“You know that’s not what I meant. I think by now I have a pretty good idea of what kind of a person you are.”
“Do you? And what kind am I, then?” This time the tone wasn’t light at all.
“The right kind. The best kind. The kind worth hanging on to.”
Cam looked rueful. “Not everyone shares that opinion.”
“Rosamund is a goddamn fool.”
“What?”
She took a deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry. I know it’s hard for you to talk about her. It’s hard for me, too. But I think we need to.”
Cam didn’t say anything, just nodded. She pushed away from the table, leaned back in her chair, and crossed her arms. Her face was expressionless—the s
ame blank look Alex had seen whenever Cam had come face to face with Rosamund.
Alex sighed. “Damn, this is hard. I don’t even know where to start. All I can think about is how much she hurt you. And it just makes me crazy to think that I helped her. I can’t believe what a fool I’ve been.”
Cam leaned forward. “What do you mean, you helped her?”
“After what happened with the letter, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. I’ve gone over and over things in my mind, trying to figure out how I ended up in this mess, what I could or should have done differently.”
“You can’t be blaming yourself for what she did. That’s just not right.”
“But I’m not blaming myself, not exactly. I want to understand how it happened, what clues I missed. That way next time, if there is a next time, I won’t repeat the same mistakes.”
“And what have you figured out, then?”
“I keep coming back to those things she said that night when she barged in here. The things she said about you.” Cam stiffened, but Alex didn’t stop. “Of course I realized it was a total bunch of crap as soon as I thought about it carefully. I just wish I’d done that right away, instead of kicking you out like I did. I’m really sorry—there’s no excuse for that.”
Cam’s face softened. She reached out a hand and Alex grasped it. “No, it’s like I said. You mustn’t blame yourself, not one bit. She’s got a way of twisting things until you don’t know what to think. She used to do that to me all the time—make me feel as if anything that made her unhappy was my fault somehow, that if I disagreed with her there was something wrong with me. It took me a long time to get my head back on straight afterward.”
“After you broke up, you mean? She made it sound like you dumped her, and for no good reason, but I’m willing to bet that’s not what happened at all.” Cam’s mouth twisted. “I’m right about that, aren’t I?”
Cam didn’t say anything, just nodded.
“But that’s not the only thing she said that didn’t make sense. All that stuff about you wanting revenge and trying to destroy her happiness by going after me, that didn’t sound anything like you. But you know who it does sound like? It sounds like Rosamund.”
“My God.” Cam’s eyes were darting back and forth, as if she was thinking rapidly. Then she looked back at Alex, wide-eyed. “My God.”
“You see, the one thing I could never figure out was why Rosamund was pursuing me so intently. I’m not exactly a ten, unless your scale goes up to fifteen.”
“Now that I can’t agree with.” Cam lifted Alex’s hand and kissed it before lowering it gently back down to the tabletop.
“You’re sweet. But you know what I mean. So why was she after me? I thought maybe she was just bored and I was handy. But think back. She started it at the Lammas dance—after you and I had been dancing together. I bet she saw us and realized that you…that we…” Suddenly she felt shy.
Cam smiled at her gently. “That I had found someone.”
Alex smiled back. “Yes. And then there was the way she pounced on me in the parking lot outside that club in Leeds. At the time I had no idea why she was doing it—it came out of nowhere—but she must have seen you standing there and decided to put on a show. Damn. She really played me, didn’t she?”
“Let it go.”
“I’m trying to. But it’s not easy.” She shook her head. “Oh, and then there was the time I saw you in the pub where she and I had just had dinner. After we left she was sort of strange—like she was upset and amused at the same time. She must have realized that I was thinking about you. I was so worried about you.”
“About me? Why?”
“The look on your face just tore at me—so much pain—and all I could think was how I was hurting you, how awful it was for you to have to see us together because…Oh, my God. I thought you were breaking your heart over her. But you weren’t, were you?”
“Not over her, lass.”
“Oh. Oh! I really am an idiot. I’m surprised you’re even still talking to me. I’ve just been so clueless. Well, at least I never actually slept with her, thank God.” Too late, she clapped a hand over her mouth. “Damn. I’m sorry. That was tacky. Not something you needed to hear about.”
But Cam just laughed. “I could almost feel sorry for her. Almost. I’d say that’s enough time wasted on her. Let’s talk about something else. What do you hear from your friend Ian?”
Alex was grateful for the change in subject. “He says he has a plan. He’s going to research the specific terms of Prandall’s bequest. Apparently no one’s clear on the actual wording—everyone talks about the prize, but they never quote from the document itself. It hasn’t even been taken out of the vault in decades. He’s hoping there will be something in it he can use. For example, if it says something like the prize winner has to discover evidence and provide it to the Foundation he could argue for splitting the award since I did one of those things.”
“That sounds promising.”
“I think it’s a long shot, even if he does find something. I’m sure there’s a flock of lawyers involved by now and I doubt I’ll ever see a penny. But I do want credit for the discovery, and Ian has promised to fight for that. Anyway, he’s doing his best, and that’s all I can ask for.” She stood and began to clear the dishes. “How about a cup of tea?”
Cam stood as well and carried her plate over to the sink. “I’d love one.”
Between the two of them, they soon had the table cleared, the leftovers put away, and the tea made. They worked efficiently together, maneuvering easily around one another, coordinating tasks with little need for conversation. Toward the end of the cleanup, Grace arrived, complaining loudly of suffering and starvation.
Alex hardened her heart. “Don’t even try it. I already fed you today. Twice, if you count those scraps you tricked me into dropping on the floor.”
Grace tried Cam next, rubbing against her leg and mewing pitifully. “No chance. All the food’s packed up. Why don’t you go for a ramble and see if you can find a nice juicy mouse?”
Apparently Grace thought the suggestion had merit, because she pranced over to the back door, then cast an expectant glance over her shoulder. Cam responded to the unspoken command, shutting the door firmly once the cat had exited.
Alex carried over both cups of tea and handed one to Cam. “Why don’t we sit by the fire?”
Cam smiled. “I’d like that.”
*
They went over to the fireplace and Alex sat down on the bench. Cam knelt beside her, set her tea down on the stone hearth, and added more wood to the fire. Alex watched as the flames seemed to all but disappear, only to flare up strongly as the fire worked its way into the fresh fuel, claiming and consuming it.
She shifted her gaze to Cam, enjoying the way the flickering flames made patterns of shadow and glowing light across her hair and the side of her face. Cam was looking at her steadily. Alex couldn’t look away, didn’t want to look away. She could feel Cam’s gaze like a caress, warm honey gliding and spreading all the way through her, into her flesh, into her bones.
Cam finally broke eye contact, grabbing the cup from Alex’s hand and putting it hurriedly down somewhere on the floor. Then she reached for her, one hand on the back of Alex’s neck and the other at her waist, drawing her into a hot, hard kiss. Alex opened her mouth and Cam’s tongue plunged inside, claiming and taking. Alex grabbed Cam by the shoulders, trying to pull her closer.
The kiss went on and on. She never wanted it to end, but she needed more and she needed it now. She laced her fingers through the softness of Cam’s hair and tugged.
At first nothing happened. Cam was devouring her mouth so intently that she probably didn’t even notice. Alex pulled harder, then harder still, and finally she was able to gain a tiny fraction of air between her lips and Cam’s. Eyes closed tight, Cam groaned and buried her face in the hollow between Alex’s neck and shoulder. She started nipping at the bare skin with her teeth.
&
nbsp; In spite of the shudders this was sending through her, Alex managed to turn her head enough to whisper fiercely in Cam’s ear, “Let’s go upstairs.”
“No.” Now Cam was sliding her tongue along Alex’s collarbone.
Alex whimpered. “Please. You’re making me crazy.”
“Can’t.” She started moving her mouth over Alex’s throat, kissing and teasing with tiny flicks of her tongue. “Can’t wait that long.”
“Then do something, damn it. I need you to touch me.”
Cam raised her head and grinned. “Always glad to be of service to a lady in distress.”
Alex froze.
For a moment Cam was afraid that Alex was going to give her a clout round the ear.
But then Alex laughed. “You wretch. Come here.”
Not wanting to waste another second, Cam moved to sit beside Alex, slipping her arms around her and lifting her carefully so that Alex was sitting sideways across her lap.
Before Cam could do anything else, Alex planted a kiss in the hollow at the base of her throat and began slowly unfastening her shirt, pausing in between buttons to kiss the bare skin she was gradually revealing. Cam gasped at the surprise and pleasure of it, hesitating for a few crucial moments.
Not long, but long enough for Alex to get her shirt all the way open and push it back, tugging the sleeves down to her elbows, exposing her completely and effectively immobilizing her. Then Alex started sliding the fingers of one hand slowly over her skin from her waist to her neck and back again. The sensation, combined with the feeling of helplessness, was scary and exciting and really, really good. She couldn’t take her eyes from Alex’s hand.
“You know,” Alex said conversationally, “I’ve been wondering all evening what you were wearing under your shirt.” She rested her palm in the center of Cam’s chest for a moment, then spread her fingers and began making slow circles, slipping lightly over the tops of her breasts, never quite touching the nipples. Cam kept watching, her breath coming faster.