The blond guy, the one who had been caught whispering in the high-profile actress’s ear, took one long look at her and turned to Cameron.
“You brought a date to this meeting, you fuckwit?” he said with a laugh.
Cameron’s growl rolled through his chest. “Max Jensen, meet Jackson McAllister. And, yes, he’s always this charming.”
Max sized her up with new appreciation, and his smile grew wider. He stood up and stuck out his hand. “Welcome to Sydney, Ms. McAllister. I trust Cameron’s made you feel welcome.”
There was no good way to answer that comment. She shook his hand and gave him a neutral smile. “Nice to meet you.”
The other two stood up.
A dark-haired man with stunning green eyes extended his hand next. “Simon Rodriguez,” he said.
The last man stepped forward, the one who was pictured with his wife. This guy was the biggest of the group, probably a Pacific Islander, and he was by far the most relaxed. “Derek Latu,” he said, reaching out his hand. She shook it, and they all sat down.
The table was silent. Right. Best to get straight to the point.
“I’m sure you’re all thrilled to have me here,” she said.
The three men chuckled.
“I didn’t come to tell you all what to do,” she continued. “The numbers suggest you’re doing a great job running this business. But after some recent press, the board wants an image adjustment. I’m here to help with that.”
She looked around the table for reactions. They were all looking between her and Cameron. So she hazarded a glance at him, too. He was sitting straight up in his chair, arms crossed, with a rock-hard expression on his face. A flush crept up his neck, and she wondered how a man this easily provoked could make it in the security business. She almost laughed.
“Mr. Blackmore, did you want to add something?” she asked calmly.
He shook his head. Derek smirked.
The waitress appeared, and Jackson let out her breath. The woman set down a round of beers in front of the men. Cameron took a long drink from the bottle, finishing half before he set it down.
“What would you like to drink, ma’am?”
Should she order wine? Nope, probably not a good idea. Jackson was going to need all her wits about her for this meeting, especially if Cameron was already this worked up.
“Just water please,” she said.
The waitress left in silence. This was going to be painful. She reached into her bag and pulled out a pad of paper.
“Let’s take care of this,” she said and turned back to the other three. “I’m here to test a couple key public relations opportunities to see what works best and plan accordingly. So as per the board’s instructions, I’ll spend a few days tailing Mr. Blackmore. I’ll shadow one of your jobs—”
“What?” Cameron snapped.
Jackson raised an eyebrow. “I thought that was clear.”
“This isn’t a sporting event, Ms. McAllister.” His voice held contempt. “It’s private security that has the potential to be dangerous for everyone involved. It’s not for spectators, no matter what the board says.” He rubbed his forehead and muttered, “What the hell are they thinking?”
Cameron had a point. What the hell was the board thinking? The Blackmore Inc. team was supposed to do their job and make sure Jackson got a good view? From what she’d heard of this board from her colleagues at the PR firm, this sounded like another one of their armchair decisions that had little to do with reality. It wouldn’t be the first. Or maybe this was Harlan Blackmore’s more personal directive, aimed to take Cameron down a notch. Perhaps Cameron deserved some sympathy... She might have felt bad for him if he wasn’t still sneering in her direction. She met his glare and tipped up her chin at him. “The board is thinking that I can take care of myself just fine, Mr. Blackmore,” she said slowly, as if she were explaining this to a child.
Cameron clamped his jaw shut and Jackson fought not to roll her eyes. Enough of Cameron Blackmore’s caveman tantrums. She had to get out of here and regain her composure.
“If you’ll excuse me,” she said and headed for the ladies’ room.
CHAPTER FIVE
CAMERON WATCHED JACKSON disappear in silence. Only after the door closed did he breathe a sigh of relief.
He turned back to his team. Each was watching him with varying degrees of amusement on their faces.
“Well, that was interesting,” said Simon with a grin. “And informative.”
Derek raised his eyebrows. “I’m not convinced you’re going to make it through this dinner without exploding, let alone two weeks. But it’s a fun show to watch.”
They all snickered. Cameron pressed his lips together.
“I don’t know why you’re so wound up, Cam,” said Max. “So she’s hot. That should make the next few days much more entertaining. Though I don’t get the feeling she’s the type to—”
“Shut the hell up, all of you,” said Cameron.
All three of them laughed at him. He grumbled a few curses under his breath.
“Come on, Cameron. You gotta admit this is a little funny,” said Simon. “We’ve been in a shitload of intense situations, and you have never once shown signs of cracking. But one day with an attractive woman telling you what to do and you’re getting ready to detonate.”
“Hilarious,” growled Cameron. “It’s only my company that’s on the line.”
That sobered them all up a bit.
He heaved out a long breath. Any time he had gotten involved with someone he’d worked with, he had always waited until the job was over. And it only took one night to scratch that itch before it was gone. So why the hell wasn’t this under control?
All afternoon, he had told himself that once the shock of seeing her in the office wore off, everything would return to normal. But she’d ended up in his arms more than once since then. This day was almost over and he was still far from under control.
The last straw was the walk along the harbor. Talking as if they were on some sort of date. As if she and her firm weren’t hired by Harlan Blackmore to get Cameron back in line. But as soon as the restaurant came into sight, reality had hit him. She was here because Cameron’s successes at Blackmore Inc. were reminders of his father’s failures.
He had to get his shit together.
Derek sighed. “I get that you can’t stand what the board is doing, but like you said, it’s just a couple weeks. You’ve been in far worse situations. And maybe she can help show the board how important the monitoring side of the business is becoming.”
“Maybe you could try to just be decent to her,” said Simon. “That might work. Just a thought.”
What was he supposed to say? That he had already put their company on the line by screwing the woman that could torpedo their jobs? And now he couldn’t stop thinking about what else he wanted to do with her, to her. At least they hadn’t gotten into anything dirtier...
“Here she comes,” Simon murmured.
Jackson sat down and flipped through her notepad to a bullet-pointed page. She read her first point and began with questions about the team’s daily routines. Her voice was clipped and professional, and she didn’t once glance in Cameron’s direction. He didn’t hear a word she said.
Just try to be decent to her? What the hell did decent look like when just waiting next to her for the elevator was enough to get him hard? He was supposed to spend the next week alone with her, on full alert, never once slipping up. That alone was bad enough, but struggling through this in front of his team was pushing him over the edge fast.
Even the way Max was looking at her now made his blood boil. And Max wasn’t even trying to pick her up. What the hell was wrong with him?
“It’s all at your place, isn’t it, Cameron?” said Derek.
Cameron blinked. “Sorry. What’s a
t my place?”
“The master list of all clients,” said Derek, raising an eyebrow.
Jackson looked at him, all business. “I need it for the conference with the board tomorrow morning.”
Cameron shook his head. “It doesn’t leave my apartment. That stipulation is written into some of our clients’ contracts.”
“I need to verify the photos against the client list,” she said.
“Not going to happen,” said Cameron. “You’ll have to trust us when we tell you they’re clients.”
“That’s not going to happen, Mr. Blackmore,” Jackson said, matching his tone perfectly. “I’m here because trusting you isn’t working for the board.”
He bit back an angry retort. The other three were watching this exchange, back and forth, waiting for someone to falter. But Jackson didn’t. Her cool gaze was fixed on him, waiting for his next move.
Simon cleared his throat. “As entertaining as this is to watch, I’m going to jump in here with an easy solution. Why doesn’t Ms. McAllister go to your place tonight and look at the client list? It never leaves your place, and Ms. McAllister gets to verify the names in person.”
Jackson’s eyes widened and Cameron froze. Jackson in his apartment? No way.
“Fine. That sounds like a good solution,” said Jackson, her voice a little higher.
The whole table turned to him.
“Fine,” mumbled Cameron. “Fine.” He looked up and met Derek’s gaze. His friend glanced at Jackson and back at him, a deep line forming between his eyebrows. Cameron turned away. The last thing he wanted was for Derek to think through this situation further.
Jackson didn’t miss a beat. She consulted her bullet-pointed list and asked her next question. But Cameron couldn’t move on. Him and Jackson alone in his apartment tonight? Not fine at all.
* * *
By the time they left the restaurant, Cameron still hadn’t come up with a good reason why Jackson shouldn’t go back to his place that night. But the master list never left the privacy of his home. Any other solution had the potential to betray the confidentiality of his most vulnerable—or most secretive—clients. And he wasn’t ready to stoop as low as claiming sudden food poisoning to get out of this visit. Almost, but not quite. Besides, excuses would only delay the problem, not solve it.
So, he found himself standing at Circular Quay with Jackson as his private launch arrived to take them home. The captain, Ralph, helped Jackson climb in, and Cameron followed after her. She hadn’t looked at him once since they’d left the restaurant. It was going to be a long, hard night in every way possible.
She didn’t say a word as they left the dock. Her eyes widened as they passed the Opera House and then she turned for a view of the Harbour Bridge. He leaned back against his seat and watched her. Strands of her lustrous brown hair escaped from the bun and whipped across her face as the boat picked up speed. The corners of her mouth turned up. In the restaurant she was all business, but now, as she looked out into the harbor, she looked softer, the way she’d looked the night before.
The thought dampened his already pessimistic outlook for the evening. He was going to spend the next hour or two trying not to think about all the things he’d rather be doing with her in his apartment.
The launch glided through the waters into his little harbor. Ralph tied up the boat at a private jetty, and he and Jackson wordlessly made their way across the dock to his building. The silence grew heavier as they rode the elevator up to his apartment.
She took the fastener out of her hair to retighten the knot, and he crossed his arms, willing himself not to look at the front of her silky blouse, where one too many buttons had come undone in the process. He was not going to look at the tops of two of the most delicious breasts he had ever seen. Why the hell hadn’t he focused more on them the night before? Finally, the elevator doors opened, and Cameron stepped out first. He wasn’t going to watch her from behind again. He entered his penthouse, hung his jacket in the hall closet and headed for his bedroom.
“You can wait in there,” he said to Jackson, gesturing toward the dining room. “I’ll be right back with the list.”
When he returned, he found her waiting by the window, looking over the harbor. He sat down at the table and opened his laptop. She spoke to him without turning around.
“Your office isn’t your only view of the Harbour Bridge,” she murmured. “I like this one even better.”
“Thanks.” He looked out at the water. He had chosen this penthouse apartment for its view, but how long had it been since he’d actually enjoyed it? All the money spent on furniture and rugs and whatever else the company’s decorator had chosen to fill this place was a waste. But the board had insisted. A CEO didn’t live in a 300-square-foot apartment without a sofa.
“Head of a successful company in Australia, apartment with a view, commute in your own private boat.” She sighed. “Quite a life you have for yourself, Mr. Blackmore.”
“Please don’t call me Mr. Blackmore. Not here, not after—” He stopped. He shouldn’t even mention it. “It’s Cameron. And yes, I’ve made a good life here. Probably should start learning to appreciate it more.”
“You should,” she said softly. “More than one bedroom in New York is a dream, never mind the view.”
She slipped into a chair next to his and pulled out the folder of press clippings. “I’m sorry to do this to you, but I need to confirm that each person in the photos is on your list. If it all checks out, I’ll report back to the board tomorrow morning and let them know these are clients, not...anything else.”
Cameron’s jaw clenched. What the hell? “So the board sent you over to make a list of who my team might have taken home?” growled Cameron. His day was getting worse by the minute.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Jackson said coolly. “No one cares how much mediocre sex you have. The board just cares about your company’s image. So let’s move on.”
Cameron’s jaw dropped open. Mediocre sex? Was she implying that their night together was mediocre? No. Impossible. The night before was fantastic. She’d thought so, too...hadn’t she?
Jackson picked up one of the photos from her file.
“Mr. Blackmore?” she asked in a sugary tone. “Can we get on with this?”
He grunted some approximation of yes.
“Good,” she said. “How do you want to work this?”
“I can’t show you the whole client list. We’re very careful with our clients’ privacy, even if the board isn’t.” He narrowed his eyes, ready for a challenge.
She gave him a look of exaggerated patience. “How about you tell me the name of the person in this photo and show me the name in your database.”
“Fine.”
She shuffled through the photos, one by one, and he clicked on each corresponding name.
His shoulders tightened with every minute he sat next to her. Mediocre? Could it be that he had so completely misjudged her reaction to him last night? Because though he’d been with more than his fair share of women, last night stood out. No. There had been a moment that passed between them yesterday, as she’d looked up at him, and he was under the impression her orgasms were more than satisfying. Both of them.
Maybe she was just taunting him. She must be. He had to believe that, if only because he really didn’t want to think about the other men who had tasted her and made her come in some way he hadn’t.
Cameron had to find out for sure.
Jackson came to the photo of him and the two women coming out of the bar. She hesitated.
“Names?” she asked, her face blank.
He mirrored her expression. “Alya Petrova is a client. Her sister, Natasha, isn’t.”
She stared at him, as if she were waiting for more information. He didn’t say anything. Let her think the worst. It was Max who couldn’t stay away from Na
tasha, not him. But that was Max’s problem. And none of Jackson’s business.
She bit her lip.
“Did you want more details?” he asked, crossing his arms.
She shook her head and wrote the names on the photo.
Jackson continued through the rest of the papers, but she didn’t look nearly as composed as she had when they started. Good. When they got to the end, she closed her folder and stuffed it in her bag. She stood up and ran a hand down her skirt. He rose to face her. She was close enough that she had to tilt her head up to meet his eyes.
“Is that all you need from me tonight, Jackson?” he asked.
He had meant to provoke her, but when her first name slipped out of his mouth, the question sounded much more seductive. A few more strands of hair had fallen from the knot on top of her head, and she tucked them behind her ear. He shouldn’t be pushing her like this. He should just let it go. But he couldn’t bring himself to back down, not when she looked so uncertain. And so sexy.
She swallowed. “Yes.”
“Good,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to subject you to another mediocre night.”
She met his gaze and shrugged. “It’s okay. Not everything can live up to expectations.”
A low rumble escaped from his mouth. Live up to her expectations? What the hell kind of expectations did she have?
She smiled at his reaction and continued with a sigh. “Guys like you always think you’re better than you really are.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Guys like me?”
She counted off his descriptors on her long, slender fingers. “Tall and fit, used to getting your way all the time, want every woman to think you—”
Cameron was done with her list. He closed his hand around hers and said, “Right now, I’m not interested in what any other woman thinks. I want to hear what you think. When you got down on all fours, ready for my cock, was that just mediocre? Or do we need to do something more to satisfy you?”
Best Laid Plans Page 5