The corners of Cameron’s mouth turned up. “Um. Well, you were staring at me, and you looked...” His eyes danced with amusement. “Let’s just say you might have tipped him off.”
Jackson leaned back against the wall. She closed her eyes as heat crept up her neck and into her cheeks. Shit. “Really?” she whispered.
“Mmm, really.”
His voice was closer, and when she opened her eyes he was standing right in front of her. Not business distance. He was approaching lean-down-and-kiss-the-hell-out-of-her distance.
“No glasses today,” he murmured. “Gonna pretend you didn’t recognize me again?”
She put up her hand. “Stop right there.”
Cameron furrowed his brow.
“I’ve been known to do really stupid things when you get that close,” she said. “I can feel my IQ dropping as we speak.”
Cameron stayed put, smiling down at her. “Can I say something?”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Like I could stop you.”
“Look, I messed up last night,” he said softly. “I was a little thrown off by how things went, and—”
“No.” She shook her head to stop this exchange before it got worse. “It’s over.”
Cameron frowned.
“I know I said the same thing yesterday, but this time I really mean it,” she added quickly. “We’ll just get through the next two weeks, and when I leave this goes, too.”
Cameron shook his head. “It won’t be gone.”
Jackson put a hand on her hip and raised her eyebrows. “How do you know? How many times have you done this before?”
“Enough to know that it doesn’t usually feel like this.” He paused. When she didn’t say anything, he continued. “Look, it’s good between us, really good, and whether or not we act on it doesn’t reverse that. I’m already an ass for not keeping my pants on when I told my team to. If you want me to stay away, I will. Probably better that way, but I wouldn’t say no if you change your mind. There’s a lot we haven’t even explored.”
His words echoed in erotic waves through her body. Jackson gritted her teeth. How had they got to this point so quickly? “Can we please move on?”
Cameron inhaled slowly and nodded. Jackson straightened up.
“I came down here because I wanted to run something by you,” she said, “something I’d like to work on for the rest of the afternoon.”
Cameron folded his arms. “I’m listening.”
Jackson set down her briefcase and pulled out a folder. “Your charitable donations aren’t standout,” she said, pointing to the summary she had put together.
The corners of Cameron’s mouth turned down. “Is that so?”
Jackson nodded. “I’m thinking you can pick one of the smaller charities the company already gives to, one where you could make a serious difference in their budget, and make a large public donation.”
Cameron scowled. “Not that it’s any of your business, Ms. McAllister, but I do give. Maybe I should give more, and we can discuss that, but you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” He glanced down the hallway and continued. “Second of all, I’m not picking my charities by how much of a PR boost I’ll get. I’m not my father. If I’m giving more it’s going to UNHCR.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“It’s the United Nations’ fund for refugees.”
The acronym hadn’t stood out when she looked over the company’s financial records earlier. Jackson scanned the papers she was clutching until she found it. “UNHCR...five thousand dollars. For a company of this size, that’s not a lot.”
He shook his head. “I give a lot more than that.”
“Where?” She leafed through the pages. “I don’t see anything else.”
She looked up at him. He worked his jaw, and his scowl deepened. “Personally. But I’m not using that to boost the company’s image.”
Cameron stood over her with his arms crossed. She had somehow hit on a nerve, and his defenses were up. She needed to find a way past them. “So, you donate larger sums from your personal finances?” she asked.
He nodded. “Anonymously. But the director knows me. I checked out the organization pretty thoroughly to make sure the money was really being used to help people.”
“Why?” she asked. “Why anonymously? Why not as you or under the Blackmore Inc. name?”
The hallway was still and silent, but he glanced up and down again. Then Cameron fixed his gaze on her. “It’s my father’s name and my father’s company now, and he’d twist it for his own advantage. But he doesn’t know the first thing about war or refugees or any of the other fallout.”
She met his eyes. “And you do.”
“Yes,” he said quietly. “And I do.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t want to donate money to get the Blackmore name on some flashy building. I’ve seen some awful things, and there are smart, good people at the UNHCR who know how to help.”
“You’ve been to their office before?”
Cameron nodded. “And I’ve met some of the people from the refugee camps who relocated to Sydney.”
“I see,” she murmured. She let the image of Cameron sitting down with refugees sink in. “That must have been intense.”
“I guess,” he said slowly. “But it’s the reality for a lot of people.”
Wow. This wasn’t where she’d expected this conversation to go. What could she say to that? Jackson had no experience with anything close to war or refugee camps.
“Look, I believed that I was fighting for a good cause when I was on the ground. I still do. But war means terrible things for everyone it touches. I can’t ignore that. I have to do something about that part, too.”
Oh. She had gotten one thing right the other night. She really didn’t know this man.
“I’m impressed, Cameron,” she whispered.
He shook his head. “Don’t be. I’m going for decent.”
She smiled at that, and he studied her for a moment. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and take away the lost look in his eyes. But she couldn’t touch him like that. Never again.
Jackson took a deep breath. “I’m not going to push you into this. I can come up with something else. But I just want to add one more thing to consider.”
He nodded. “Okay.”
“Making a high-profile donation helps the organization, too. They’re in the spotlight, and they can leverage the position to raise more money.”
Cameron didn’t react, but he didn’t stop her, so she continued. “Blackmore Inc. will get press for it. Your father might even take the credit. But if that brings in a few thousand dollars to people who really need it, the whole thing might be worth it.”
Cameron’s face betrayed nothing, but his arms were still crossed tight against his chest.
“Just think about it,” she said.
His expression softened. “I will.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“REMIND ME OF why the hell we’re on our way to the UNHCR office?” said Derek, smiling across the taxi at Cameron. “I thought you didn’t want Blackmore Inc. anywhere near this subject.”
Cameron folded his arms. “I changed my mind.”
Derek raised an eyebrow. “You changed your mind, or someone changed it for you?”
Cameron groaned. He and Derek had been friends long enough for Cameron to know Derek would keep pushing the subject until he got his answer. And Cameron really didn’t want to get into this. At all.
“The board wants some sort of PR boost, and this is a good option,” tried Cameron.
“You sure that’s it?” asked Derek, his smile growing. “Because when that Ms. Jackson McAllister caught you with your shirt off, she liked what she saw. And I suspect the feeling is mutual.”
“Shut the hell up, Derek,”
he mumbled. “She’s the board’s PR woman, and she’s flying back to New York next week to report on us. It doesn’t matter what she liked because nothing’s going on. End of story.”
Technically, this was true. Nothing was going on because Jackson had put an end to it. Again. But it wasn’t anywhere near over in his mind.
Derek chuckled. “You’re getting your knickers in a knot over this woman, mate.”
Cameron huffed out a breath and looked out the window. “Knickers in a knot” didn’t even begin to describe the mess of feelings that were clogging up his thoughts. It wasn’t just the flashes of her tousled on his sofa, skirt around her hips, that were tripping him up now. He had mentioned the army. He never talked about that. And when she’d looked at him like she really heard what he was saying, he’d wanted to tell her more. The decision to follow in his grandfather’s footsteps, not his father’s. The way his father had turned against him. The kind of shit she needed to know if she was going to understand why he never wanted to be in the same room with his father again. That, long before Harlan started meddling with Cameron’s job in Sydney, he’d betrayed his son by leaving Cameron and his mother to start a new family.
“Look, something’s up.” Derek’s voice turned more serious. “I don’t even want to know what it is. And I’m the last person to tell you to lay off, after what happened with me and Laurie. But be careful. There’s a lot riding on this ‘PR boost’ or whatever the hell they’re calling it. For you more than anyone else.”
“Don’t I know it,” said Cameron. He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “What I want is for my father to leave me the hell alone.”
Derek was quiet.
“All three of us would understand if you wanted to leave Blackmore Inc.,” he finally said.
Cameron frowned. “It’s my grandfather’s company, not my father’s. Harlan Senior was more a father to me, and I owe it to him to stick it out.” He clapped Derek’s shoulder. “Besides, you three aren’t the only salaries the company pays. If I stepped down, my father would fuck up everything I’ve done.”
“You can’t keep your father from screwing up other people’s lives, Cam.” Derek shook his head. “Just take a shot and hope you get it right. I’m sure you will.”
“I don’t know about that,” he muttered.
And Cameron wouldn’t rest until he got out from under his father’s control. But wasn’t that exactly the way Harlan Blackmore thought? Wasn’t that why he’d left all those years ago and moved on to his next family—because his father wasn’t willing to bend to anyone, not even his own father?
The taxi pulled up in front of the UNHCR offices, and Cameron and Derek climbed out. They stood next to each other on the sidewalk, the traffic at their backs. A PR visit was the last thing in the world Cameron wanted to do right now. Well, almost the last.
Derek cleared his throat. “I wasn’t just giving you shit about the thing between Jackson and you. Neither of you are doing a good job of hiding whatever nothing is. I don’t know what the hell you’re doing.”
Cameron shook his head. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, either.”
“That’s what I thought,” Derek said, swinging the door open. “Come on, everyone’s up there waiting for us.”
* * *
By the time they wrapped up at UNHCR, two hours had passed. Cameron led the way out. He pushed open the front door of the building and stepped out onto the sidewalk. The rush of warm city air hit him, and he took a deep breath.
“That was a good move today, Ms. McAllister,” said Max from behind him. “Cam, the board will love those pictures with you and the UNHCR directors.”
Cameron grunted but didn’t turn around.
“It went well.” Jackson’s voice rang softly in his ears. What the hell was wrong with him? It was like he grew some sort of super-senses when she was around. He couldn’t tune anything about her out. They had come into some sort of rhythm the last few days, and her tone shifted when no one else was around. He wanted the time to just watch her, enjoy her. And he didn’t have it.
The group stopped next to the street, and Derek looked down at his watch. “I’m headed to the gym,” he said. “Anyone else in?”
“I’m in,” said Simon.
Max turned to Jackson and flashed her a smile. “That invitation includes you, Ms. McAllister.” Cameron glared, but Max ignored him. “We wouldn’t want you to get the impression that Blackmore Inc. is just a man’s club. We welcome women into all areas of our business.”
Jackson rolled her eyes, smiling. “Noted. But no thanks.”
Cameron was going to strangle Max if he had to listen to his friend harass Jackson for another minute.
“Suit yourself,” Max said easily. “Cam?”
Derek gave Cameron a wary look and clapped Max on the back. “He’ll catch up with us if he wants to.” The three men nodded to Cameron and disappeared into a taxi. Leaving him standing with Jackson.
“Is Max ever serious?” she asked.
Cameron shrugged. “Occasionally. A couple things get under his skin.” Like the subject of his family. And Natasha. In the time that Cameron had known Max, those were the only two subjects he had ever seen his friend get heated about.
Jackson tilted her head and looked at him. “Do you mind if I walk with you a bit?”
Of course he minded. It meant every ounce of his energy was going toward not touching her. Not watching her soft, full lips as she spoke in that husky voice.
But if he said no, he was an asshole. Correction: he was already an asshole. But he didn’t need to make the situation worse.
Cameron sighed. “I was going to walk over to Haymarket for some dumplings. You’re welcome to join me.”
She hesitated. “Um, okay.”
He nodded his head down the street. “This way. It’s a bit of a walk.”
Jackson smiled and pointed to her feet. “I bought a new pair of walking shoes.”
Cameron made the mistake of looking down at them. He didn’t know shit about women’s shoes, and these looked roughly the same as any other pair. But of course he didn’t stop his observations at the shoes. His gaze lingered at her ankles before tracing the curve of her legs up to the hem of her skirt. Today’s was just short enough to get him thinking about her thighs. Shit.
Cameron shoved his hands in his pockets and started walking. Jackson caught up a moment later.
“Listen,” she said breathlessly, “I just wanted to thank you for putting in the effort today with UNHCR. I talked with the director for a while before you got there, and he was beyond thrilled about the exposure.”
Cameron nodded.
“He said that donations come in at times of crisis, but the money tends to dry up when the crisis is no longer on the front pages,” she continued. “Something like this brings people’s attention back.”
Cameron glanced at her as she spoke. Her cheeks were flushed, and she was gesturing with her hands like she actually cared about what she was saying. Her eyes were alive. And she looked beautiful.
He raised an eyebrow at her. “You already got me in front of the camera. You don’t need to sell me the idea anymore.”
Jackson stopped in the middle of the busy sidewalk and put her hands on her hips. Cameron turned and met her gaze, and he found more than a hint of irritation in it. The lunch crowd bumped around her, but she didn’t seem to care.
“I’m not selling anything, Cameron. Raising money for a good cause is important.”
Cameron crossed his arms. “If that’s what you feel strongly about, then why are you working in corporate PR, for companies like my father’s?”
There. He’d said it. This was the question that had irked him since she’d shown up in his office for the first time. Why had she taken a job with Harlan?
Jackson’s arms fell from her hips, and she looked a
way, frowning.
“That’s complicated,” she said.
Cameron took a step closer. “We’re long past complicated, Jackson. I’d like to know.”
“It’s personal,” she said, still not looking at him. “You know, you’re just as much a threat to my job as I am to yours.”
He blinked. All this time he had worried about her leveraging her power over his job, and she had been anxious about the same thing? That he’d use sex to manipulate her somehow? Cameron’s shoulders fell. It was just the kind of thing Harlan Blackmore would do.
He uncrossed his arms and she turned to meet his gaze.
“I’d never use our personal time together against you. Or anything else personal, for that matter,” he said softly. “Do you really think I would?”
His heart thumped in his chest as he waited for her judgment. Groups of people jostled by, but neither of them moved. Jackson held his gaze, her eyes searching his. She brushed a few strands of hair off her face.
“No, I don’t think you would,” she finally said. “Maybe I thought so at first, but not anymore.”
He was dying to kiss her right now, no matter who was watching. But he didn’t want to stop at a kiss. One encounter with her had left him reeling, and the second had left him desperate. Cameron wasn’t sure he’d survive another with his sanity intact.
He lifted his hand to touch her but stopped and let it fall. Her eyes flashed with something—disappointment?—but she averted them and started walking.
“I took a job at a PR firm because I needed the money,” she said flatly. “The nonprofit I started out with could barely afford my salary, and I needed double what they were paying me to move out of my sister’s spare bedroom.”
“And the firm you’re at now doesn’t take on nonprofits?”
“They do, but those accounts don’t pay as well. So I started to go for other accounts, bigger ones like Blackmore Inc.” She wrinkled her nose. “See, I’m on this ten-year plan...”
He raised his eyebrows.
“Long story,” she said. “Anyway, I needed the extra money quickly, and they were looking for someone who would travel internationally. So I took it.”
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