Cameron rubbed his hands over his eyes and let his shoulders sag. “She’s going to leave for real. Soon. And I don’t know what the hell I can do about it.”
“You sure she’s not just playing with you?” asked Derek.
Cameron shook his head. “I don’t think so. But I guess I can’t be sure.”
Derek leaned back into the sofa pillows, and he was silent for way too long. Not good. Derek was from one of the biggest families in the Samoan community in Sydney, and both his father and his grandfather were church leaders. Even though Derek had chosen a different path, people came to him with their problems all the time. And he was never silent.
He glanced over at his friend. “Well?”
Derek raised his eyebrows. “I don’t know what you want me to say. You won’t see a shrink to get over your flying thing. And she lives in New York. There are ten thousand miles of issues. Something’s got to give.”
“A shrink won’t help,” spat Cameron. “I can’t do it. I can’t get myself on a plane. I’m afraid I’ll lose it in a way I’ll never come back from.”
He couldn’t even think of airplanes without flashing back to that crash in the desert and the two men who’d never come back. It was still so real. The utter panic of knowing the engine had failed and they were falling... The impossible, jarring impact as one side of the plane hit the ground and went up in flames. The heat from the burning wreckage, the slashing pain in his midsection and the inhuman screams coming from the men. He closed his eyes against it all.
“You made it across the Pacific once. You can do it again,” Derek said.
“Simon was with me,” said Cameron. “Just ask him about that plane ride.”
“Okay, okay,” said Derek, his hands up in surrender. “So find another way to spend some more time with her.”
“I suggested she ask the board for more time, but she didn’t even consider it.” Cameron grimaced. “She mentioned a ten-year plan. And she’s got this little red book she writes in. If I could see it, I bet I could figure this out. But I’m not lifting it from her. I’m not stooping that low.”
Or would he?
His friend patted his arm and stood up. “Sorry, mate. It doesn’t sound good.”
“No shit,” he said.
Cameron walked Derek to the door and rested his hand on the knob. “There’s got to be a way.”
Derek smiled. “Cameron, Jackson’s smart and beautiful, and she stands up to you. I probably shouldn’t say this, but I’ve seen her looking at you when she thinks no one sees. If you want this badly enough, you’re going to find a way to make it work.”
“Thanks for nothing,” he grumbled and opened the door.
And came face-to-face with Jackson McAllister.
“Oh.” She gasped.
Shit. How much of their conversation had she heard? But she wasn’t paying attention to him. She was peering into her little red book again. What the hell did she write in it?
Derek slipped by her with a nod, and then it was just the two of them. Alone.
“Ms. McAllister?”
Jackson stuffed the little book into her bag. “Right. Sorry.”
Cameron covered her hand. She looked up at him, her lips parted as if she were ready to kiss him. Except that wasn’t going to happen. Not here, in the Blackmore Inc. hallway.
“I’ve seen you pull that little book out a few times,” he said softly. “Can I see it?”
“It’s nothing,” she said, but her face was bright red. “It’s just a bunch of lists. Nothing interesting.”
“I’m interested.”
She glanced down the hallway. Derek had disappeared.
“Let’s go into your office,” she whispered. That shouldn’t sound so seductive, but he must have reacted because she added, “Not for that.”
Right. Take it easy.
Cameron stepped back, and Jackson walked into his office. She pulled up a chair to his desk and sat down. Leaning back against his desk, his legs were inches from hers.
Keep focused. The book. She had taken it out a few times, so it meant something. It had to be the key to figuring out her ten-year plan.
“What’s in that book, Jackson?”
“Boring stuff,” she said quickly. “Just places I want to go, things I want to visit.”
“Can I see it? Please?”
Jackson looked up at him. “Okay. But promise not to laugh.” She pulled it from her bag and handed it to him.
The cover was soft and worn, and some of the pages had come loose from the binding. He opened the book to the first page. My Dream Trips was underlined three times and surrounded by little hearts. He glanced up at Jackson, and she smiled.
“I got it when I was about twelve, in case you’re wondering.”
Cameron chuckled. “You never know.”
“No laughing.” She took a swat at his leg as he turned the page.
“‘Paris,’” he read. “Of course. ‘The Eiffel Tower, the Mona Lisa...’ All the things you want to see there?”
“Yep. Some places have more details than others. I had to add another Paris page.”
She took the book from him and flipped to a page in the middle. She handed it back to him.
“Rue Cardinale Lemoine? What’s there?”
“Hemingway’s apartment.” She rolled her eyes. “College.”
“Have you been to Paris?”
Jackson sighed. “Nope. Not yet.” She flipped to the beginning, to the page titled New York. “Look here. I cross out everything I’ve done.”
Cameron raised his eyebrows. “You still haven’t seen everything you want to see in New York?”
Jackson smiled. “It’s a big city. And I add to the list all the time. Restaurants I want to try, that kind of thing.”
He nodded. “Does Sydney have a page?”
Jackson hesitated. She took the little book again and leafed through the pages. “No laughing, remember?”
The Opera House. Climb the Harbour Bridge. Bondi Beach. The list was long, and only two entries were crossed out. Boat trip in the Sydney Harbour and... Hot sex in Sydney? Cameron’s mouth fell open. Should he be offended or flattered?
“Is that me?” he snorted.
He caught the smile on her face just before she buried her head in her hands. Finally, she looked up again. “That’s you.”
He pumped his fist in the air. “I made your list. Glad to see it’s crossed off.”
She pursed her lips.
He tried for a straight face but failed. “It’s a little funny, isn’t it?”
She smiled. “Okay. A little.”
He looked down at her list again. The things that were crossed out she’d done with him. One was the night on his boat. While he spent the whole ride thinking about how to deal with her in his apartment, she was thinking about her dream list. Shit.
“You’ve only accomplished two things on your Sydney list?” He could have spent the last week and a half showing her all the things written there. They could have done them together.
He looked up at her. “That day we ate right on the harbor, you should have said something. We could have walked up to the Opera House.”
Jackson shrugged. “I was working, remember? Besides, we’re going to the Sydney Opera House in a couple days for the security job.”
Cameron nodded. The private security detail at the gala. That was her last night in town. All he could think about was the time they had wasted. He’d spent so much of it thinking about getting her naked that he’d missed this whole piece of what she wanted. Not that she had complained about the getting naked part.
She took the book out of his hands and flipped through the pages. “It’s not an itinerary. More like a fantasy life I want to live someday. When I have more money, and I’m not so busy with work.”
&nb
sp; She skimmed through pages on the French Riviera, Mont Saint-Michel and Marseille. She really had a thing for France.
“The ten-year plan?”
She sighed. “Yep.”
“What about vacations?”
Jackson shrugged. “Sometimes. When I have the money.” She flipped to a page titled St. Thomas, Virgin Islands. Beach cabana and waterside restaurant were crossed off, but sailing trip and snorkeling weren’t. She looked up at him and gave a wry smile. “My ex-boyfriend wasn’t into water sports, so we skipped some of the items.”
What the hell was wrong with this guy? He had Jackson all to himself on a Caribbean island, and he wouldn’t get in the water with her? If Cameron had Jackson to himself, he’d do whatever the hell would make her happy.
Except get on an airplane, you fuckwit. Which means you can’t give her any of the things she wants.
Cameron frowned. “Did your ex know about this book?”
“I guess. He saw me writing, but he never really asked about it.” She closed it and stuffed it back in her bag. “It doesn’t matter. Like I said, I’ll probably never make it to most of these places. The lists are just for fun.”
He studied her expression. No, this mattered to her. She had kept that little red book for years, adding new places all the time, waiting for a chance to start living her dream. This was what she wanted. But Cameron wasn’t any better than her ex-boyfriend. At least the dickhead had actually gone somewhere with her. Cameron scowled and turned away.
“I know it’s a little childish,” she said quickly.
Was that what she thought was going through his mind? He was on the verge of screwing this up worse.
“It’s not,” he said, a little too forcefully. “That’s not what I was thinking at all.”
She tilted her head. “Then what were you thinking?”
“A lot of things. I wish I would have taken you to some places on your Sydney list.”
Jackson’s eyes were soft, and she smiled a little. She paused, as if she were really considering it. “Maybe someday.”
Someday. As in, probably never. Unless he figured something out.
CHAPTER TWELVE
WHEN THE ELEVATOR doors closed, Jackson hitched up the top of her dress and swiped a hand down the skirt. The black satin bodice still dipped dangerously low. The saleswoman in the department store had assured her that the dress wasn’t too small. It was supposed to show a hint of cleavage. But Jackson was showing more than a hint. And it was too late to change her mind.
She folded the wide, silky scarf around her chest as the elevator raced up. Thank goodness she was leaving tomorrow. If she was around Cameron much longer, she might spontaneously combust. When the rest of his team was around, Cameron barely even looked in her direction. He was short with everyone, and when Max patted her on the shoulder, she could swear Cameron growled.
But when they were alone, it was worse. As soon as he came close, the electricity between them sizzled. Like he was silently waiting for her signal. And she couldn’t stop herself from giving in to it.
The elevator dinged, and the doors opened to the top floor. She clutched the scarf around her shoulders tighter and stepped out. The reception desk was empty, but she could hear low voices coming from down the hall. Jackson took a deep breath.
How many fantasies had she flashed through these last days? Fantasies of giving in to the magnetic pull between their bodies for another euphoric encounter before she left. The tension between them built all day. When he read a memo over her shoulder or helped her with her coat, all she had to do was meet his liquid blue eyes. She found what she wanted.
Then, as soon as she got far enough away from the tractor-beam pull of his body, she could see this wasn’t leading anywhere good. It was one thing to play out an office fantasy, but real life didn’t work the same.
Still, as she’d stood in the boutique’s changing room, shopping for an outfit for tonight, she knew the dress was more sexy than professional. And she bought it anyway.
Jackson looked down at the crumpled silk in her fists and sighed. Before she walked into the conference room full of testosterone, she needed to pull herself together.
She slipped the scarf off her shoulders and shook it out, but the wrinkles remained. She frowned. Maybe she could—
Footsteps, close by. Jackson lifted her gaze and found Cameron, only a couple paces away. He wore black dress pants and a white dress shirt with gun holsters strapped across his chest. Refined but dangerous. His eyes, dark and hungry, dipped down over every curve of her body. He rested his gaze on her cleavage with unrestrained lust.
Cameron took a step, closing in on her. Another step. She fought the urge to turn the tables on him, to back him against the wall and make the spark in his eyes explode. But this was work. He took one more step. His body was only inches away from hers, and when she took a breath, her breasts skimmed his shirt. Her heart did flips in her chest.
Cameron rested his hand on the wall and leaned over her. The scent of his aftershave took her right back to his living room couch as he drove deep inside her. God, she wanted him right now. A low rumble rose from his chest.
“What the hell are you wearing?” he whispered roughly.
She swallowed and straightened up.
“This is a formal event,” she said, her voice far too breathless. “I’m trying to fit in.”
“And you look sexy as fuck,” he groaned. “You said you’d be out of the way, that I wouldn’t even notice you. But you’re putting far too much faith in my self-control if you think I can turn away when you look so fucking good in that dress.”
His breath warmed her neck, and the heat from his body pulsed into hers. Or maybe it was her own body. She squeezed her hands into fists to keep herself from touching him. Just one more time. Once more, she wanted to run her hands over the muscles that strained against the fabric of his shirt. She shifted a little, and her hip brushed against him. His erection grew.
“We’re working,” he grumbled.
She waited for him to judge his next move. He stayed still.
His breaths rasped in her ear. “I’m going to walk back to my office and calm myself the hell down.” He pressed his hard length against her hip, in case she wasn’t sure what he was talking about.
His lips brushed against her neck. “Or you can follow me back there.”
She closed her eyes, trying to steady her heavy breaths.
Then he was gone. Her eyes drifted open in time to see him turn around, his hands shoved in his pockets. He started down the short hallway. Shit. Just thinking of him in his office got her going. Was he going for the cold shower method of calming down, or was he getting himself off? He wouldn’t, would he? She wanted to know.
If she followed him for the kind of quick, hard satisfaction she knew he could give her, it might make the night a lot easier. But she knew better than to follow him back before a key job for a little pleasure. Okay, a lot of pleasure. More than she’d probably ever get for the rest of her life. Double shit.
Jackson smoothed out the scarf she was clutching and wrapped it around her shoulders. Then she started down the hall. She got to the end and looked left, toward Cameron’s office. His door was closed. Was he sitting at his desk with his pants unzipped, his big cock in his hand? Was he waiting for her? Damn. She was dying to walk down that hall and find out.
She looked to the right. The door to the conference room at the end of the hall was open. Derek Latu sat at the long table, his broad shoulders and his back just in sight. All he had to do was turn his head in time to see her slip into Cameron’s office.
Jackson gave herself a little shake. Good God, what the hell was wrong with her? All Cameron had to do was lean over her, and she was panting after him like a puppy. She was a professional adult, not some hormonal teenager.
No more thinking about Cam
eron’s big, hulking body or his intoxicating scent. She was not even going to turn around for another look at his office door. She was going to put one foot in front of the other and walk to the conference room. And not think about what she was missing back in Cameron’s office.
Derek turned around just before she reached the conference room doorway.
“Cameron went out to find you,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “You didn’t see him?”
Jackson fought the heat rising to her face. “He had to take care of something. He’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Derek’s gaze rested on her for an extra beat. He knew something was up. Thank goodness she’d come to her senses before she followed Cameron back and did something really stupid. Correction: something else really stupid.
She tugged her scarf across her chest and walked into the room. Derek and Max were dressed like Cameron: white shirts, black pants and holsters strapped around their shoulders. No wonder Blackmore Inc. was in such high demand. Both of them looked like they were ready for anything.
“Don’t let me interrupt,” she said.
Max glanced at her dress and laughed. “Good luck with that.”
Jackson felt her face heat.
“Enough, Max,” said Derek. “Let’s review what Ms. McAllister needs to know.”
She sat in the empty chair next to Derek, and Max passed her a paper across the table.
“Here’s the schedule for the evening,” he said. “In all likelihood, you’ll see very little action on this job. But you never know. Because of some recent problems, this client suspects he’s being targeted, and he’s a little jumpy. He has his own full-time security back at the hotel, but he wants us along because we know the area.”
She looked at the minute-by-minute plan, starting at an unnamed hotel.
“Who is the client?” she asked.
Derek shook his head. “Sorry. Can’t give that information out.”
“Fine,” she said. “Where’s Simon?”
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