by Johnson, Cat
I don't know exactly what came over me, but words flew from my mouth before I'd even considered them. "How about this: you let me show you a bit of the city, and we'll call it even."
Her blue eyes widened. "What?"
"I never get to show anyone around, and I love this city. Let me play tour guide for an hour or two and I'll work out your meal with the management here. I might've mentioned the owner is my brother. He loves having things to lord over me."
She hesitated, her bottom lip finding its way between her teeth as her eyes moved to the city beyond the window. "That doesn't seem like an even trade."
"I'd be honored," I hoped I wasn't being too pushy, but the more I thought about having a bit more time to tell her who I was, to get to know her before that point, the more committed I was to the idea.
She sighed and sat back in her chair. "Fine," she said. "Okay, yes. Thank you. Only..."
"What?"
"I don't have any money. For tourist things, I mean."
"We won't need much," I promised. "It'll be fine."
"And your brother can spare you here?"
"I'm off now anyway," I untied the white apron from my waist and draped it over the back of the chair next to her. "Ready?"
5
Camille
I was mortified at having lost my credit card and my phone—and would need to call my bank right away, except there was an obvious issue there—but I was more mortified over not having been able to pay for my lunch. When the handsome waiter suggested that spending a little time showing me around the city would make things even, part of me thought he was insane—why would a perfect stranger want to do a thing like that? But part of me wondered if he felt what I did—a little spark of something warm and enticing that glowed to life when our eyes met.
It didn't make much sense, and neither did my acceptance of his offer, really. But there was something about him. Something alluring and reassuring at once.
Tomorrow would be about driving my career forward, about standing up for myself as a strong, independent businesswoman who would have to fight for what she believed in with the new CEO taking over. But today? Maybe today could be learning a little about my new city and spending time with a handsome guy just because I wanted to. And this guy was ridiculously handsome. He had the same kind of magnetism I imagined Alexander might have as an adult—and they actually shared some similar features, based on the headshot I’d managed to find. But where Alexander appeared all hard edges and determination, Xander was friendly and easygoing.
For once, I decided not to overthink things. A little stir of excitement flashed in me as I looked up at the handsome man I was going to spend the day with.
"Oh, wait," I said, thinking of Dad, who would be worried. So much for not overthinking. "I'll just need to call my dad. Let him know I'm okay."
"Not a problem," Xander assured me. "You can use the restaurant phone."
"All good?" Xander asked after my call, his lips turned up in a smile as he pushed an unruly lock of hair from where it hung over his forehead.
"Yes," I said. "And so you know, I told him where we are and who you are, so if you decide to murder me, you won't get away with it."
His smiled dropped for a beat, and then he chuckled, as if he'd just understood the joke. "Okay," he said softly.
6
Alexander
We walked north, and as I led Camille through the familiar streets, my indecision grew. I needed to tell her who I was. But a glance down at her revealed a glowing smile, bright enthusiastic eyes, and a willingness to trust me that I knew would evaporate the second I revealed my actual identity. Maybe if I had time to get to know her first, she wouldn’t be angry when I finally told her the truth.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“One of my favorite spots,” I told her, leading her up a staircase from the street.
“What is…” her question trailed off as we reached a long narrow park that ran on an elevated train line above the west side of the city.
“This is the High Line,” I told her as we joined the people walking along the path through the center of the park. On the sides were grassy patches, beautiful landscaping, and views of the city and the river.
“This is amazing,” Camille breathed, and we approached the railing, looking out over the Hudson River. “You don’t think of this kind of stuff when you think of New York,” her gaze meeting mine.
"Tell me what you did in San Diego," I said.
"I run part of my father's company,” she said, her face clearing as she talked, becoming focused. “We specialize in unmanned systems—drones. I run the conservation efforts, where we're partnering with the game preserves in Africa, working to put up drones to perform persistent surveillance to help keep poachers out of the preserves."
I’d known about the effort, I hadn’t realized Camille’s commitment to it. "So you're saving the world."
"One rhino at a time," She laughed. "Only..."
"Only what?"
She sighed and her shoulders slumped. "Only the company's been bought. That's why I'm here."
And this was where I was supposed to be the bigger person and admit who I was. This was where I needed to tell her that I was the "arrogant prick" who had bought her father's company (her words.) She became animated as she described what had happened to her father's business, how he'd been swindled and betrayed. And she became visibly angry when she talked about me, describing me as an opportunist coming in to eliminate a competitor and steal the progress her company had made.
This was where I was supposed to be a good guy.
But now I knew the second I told her who I was, all that anger and that sense of betrayal would be aimed at me. And maybe it was selfish, but I couldn't do it. The day was perfect. The sun was glorious and I was selfishly enjoying every second I spent with this intriguing woman who'd once been my favorite friend and the girl I'd had a mad eight-year-old crush on. A crush that hadn't dwindled much as I'd grown up. I'd thought of Camille and her curious nature many times since I’d moved to New York and her mother had died, ending our visits.
I wondered if she'd ever thought of me.
"Are you sure this CEO is really as horrible as you think?" I asked. "Maybe he's just doing what's best for his employees and his company. Maybe he thinks he's actually helping you?"
Her eyes narrowed and she frowned at the buildings pressing up against the blue sky in front of us. "Maybe," she said, but her voice made it sound like she didn't believe it.
We were quiet a few minutes, and she sighed. "The funny thing is, I used to know the guy."
"The CEO?" I asked, my nerves tingling.
"Yeah. We were friends. Our mothers were close when we were young. He and I were actually best friends for a while when we were little. I had a crazy crush on him." She smiled up at me. "He gave me a Ring Pop and asked me to marry him."
"Did you say yes?"
She ducked her head and smiled. "I did."
"So you're engaged, then. No wonder things are so strange." And here I was, making them so much stranger by not saying who I was. But how could I now? I'd let it go too far.
She laughed. "I seriously doubt he remembers that."
"You remember it." A little flame of hope glowing in my chest. Not only did she remember, she smiled when she spoke of it, and a blush was climbing her pretty, fair skin. "Why wouldn't he?"
She blew a breath over her bottom lip, sending her bangs flying upward. "I don't know," she said. "I don't want to talk about it. I'll have to live it soon enough."
"Okay," I said, disappointment settling inside me. As long as we were on this topic, I'd hoped I'd find a way to be truthful with her. But as she turned her face to me and smiled, I felt the opportunity slipping away.
"I love the High Line," she said. "Thank you for showing it to me." She stepped a tiny bit closer to me and every cell in my body fired to attention. “Tell me we don’t have to be done yet.”
"We're not done ye
t," I promised her.
“Are you sure you have the time to spend?” she asked, her nearness bringing the scent of jasmine to my nostrils, the press of her hand on my arm fogging my thoughts.
“I have all the time you want,” I told her.
“Do you live around here, Xander?”
7
Camille
I wasn’t sure quite what had come over me, but I knew I wanted to live in denial just a bit longer. I wanted to push away the realities that would come hard and fast tomorrow, and focus on something else today. Like Xander. Like coming hard and fast, maybe.
Normally, this was not the kind of suggestion I’d make, and I wasn’t the kind of woman who jumped into bed with strange men. But this wasn’t a normal day, and Xander didn’t feel at all like a stranger. Being around him had made all the tension and worry about the next day slide away, and I needed that, I realized. I wanted more.
He cleared his throat and his eyes widened as he absorbed the implication of my question. “I do, yeah. Kind of.” A beat later, a gorgeous smile pulled across those perfect lips. “Walk a bit?”
His hand slid over mine as I nodded, and we turned together, our hands clasped, and descended the stairs to the street.
We walked through the sun-soaked city streets, hand in hand, and I enjoyed suspending responsibility, delaying the realities of who I was. Instead, I allowed myself to absorb the joy I felt in the springtime sun, the little prickles of excitement that ran through me every time I looked at Xander, and the magical atmosphere that had sprung up between us so suddenly.
“This is me,” he said, gesturing toward a soaring black glass tower hulking over the wide Tribeca street where we stood.
“Okay,” I said, a thrill of nerves racing through me. Was I really going to do this?
A doorman ushered us inside, a quiet, “sir,” slipping from his lips as Xander and I passed and stepped into the elevator.
It was a nice building. I was about to ask Xander about it when he punched the button for the top floor and turned to face me. There was a look on his face that I couldn’t quite read, and for a second I had the impression he was about to tell me this wasn’t a good idea, that we shouldn’t do … whatever it was we were about to do.
But the anxiety and fear of tomorrow had been subsumed by this fantasy I’d been allowing to grow today, and I wasn’t ready for it to end. I looked up at him, slid my arms around his neck, and lingered inches from his lips, my eyes still fixed to his. If he wanted to put a stop to things, he still had the chance.
Instead, a low groan came from his lips as he dipped his head and closed the space between us, the kiss starting softly and then progressing almost instantly into a connection made of heat and flame, longing and decisive taking.
The elevator slid to a stop and Xander released me and stepped back, still holding my hand in his. I swallowed hard and then turned to take in the enormous loft into which the elevator had opened.
“This is yours?” I asked. Waiters in New York must do very well.
8
Alexander
“I live with my brother,” I said, hoping Camille didn’t decide to ask any more questions about the loft. It was a little audacious, I knew, but I liked the space and I loved the views. And I’d earned every cent that had paid for it. I was happy to let my brother occupy the guest suite on one side of the space. We’d always been close.
But I was glad he wasn’t home now.
“This is—” she began, but I pulled her into me again and reclaimed her mouth with mine. Until I could figure out how to tell her what I needed to tell her, kissing her seemed like a good way to spend our time. And her lips on mine, her hands fisting the back of my shirt and pulling it eagerly from the waistband of my jeans—it was irresistible.
My hands found the zipper on her hoodie and I pulled it down, stepping back to let it fall from her shoulders. She wore a slim fitting tank top over running tights, and she looked toned and athletic, sexy and slim. “You’re incredible,” I bit out, my desire for her tunneling my thoughts, limiting my ability to be rational, to hear the voice telling me what a terrible idea this was.
She grinned wickedly and then lifted my shirt, pushing it up my chest until I reached behind me and pulled if off over my head. Her eyes followed her hands as she let them slide down the planes of my chest, and she gave me an even more wicked smile as she began to unfasten my jeans.
We undressed one another, bit by bit, until the girl I’d loved as a boy stood before me, silhouetted by the blaze of late-afternoon sun flooding through the floor-to-ceiling windows. She was perfect—every tight angle and generous curve exactly where I’d put it if I were to construct my ideal woman.
I couldn’t suppress my groan of desire as she moved in close again, pressing every inch of herself against me, her tongue teasing mine as her slim fingers wrapped my cock. “Where’s the bedroom?” she asked.
Rational thought and good ideas had been abandoned just beyond the elevator, and pure instinct was running the show now. I scooped her into my arms and carried her through the open living area to my bedroom, depositing her gently onto the platform bed. She scooted herself back, toward the center, and then shot that smile at me again and every part of me surged toward her.
“I don’t want you to think I’m normally like this,” she breathed as I laved her neck, worshipping her perfect breasts with my hands, moving slowly down her body. “I’m very straight-laced most of the time.” Her words were coming on little gasps, and I loved the knowledge that she was fighting for control.
“Really?” I asked, my tongue darting around her navel as she moaned, her hips lifting to press into my chest.
“Always,” she said, the word ending in a cry as I slid lower down her body.
As my tongue and fingers teased closer and closer to her center, Camille gave up trying to speak, and her words were replaced by gentle cries and little moans that set me blazing.
9
Camille
Xander knew exactly what he was doing, and as I lay on the receiving end of multiple releases administered by his tongue and fingers, I decided that being a different person for the day was something I should do more often.
I was floating on the remnants of my second orgasm, when I heard him say, “You’re perfect, Camille.” The right words at the right moment. I pulled him to my mouth again, rolling him to his back as I straddled him in the center of that incredible huge bed.
“Do you have a condom?” I asked, loving the desire I saw burning in his intense dark eyes.
“Nightstand…” There was a question in his voice, and I felt reassured by it. If he wasn’t certain there were condoms in there, he didn’t bring women home often. Not that it should matter to me—I’d never see this waiter again. But I liked it, all the same.
There was one condom in the drawer, and I slid it down his significant cock and then leaned forward to kiss him as I took him slowly inside me. We gasped and moaned together—the fit was so satisfying, so tight. And when I began to move, sliding along his delicious length, I was startled to feel myself building toward another climax.
Xander was releasing a string of strained curses and oaths, his hands firm on my hips as he guided me up and down. His gorgeous face was flushed, and when he got close to his release, his eyes met mine.
I was close too, and despite the fact I’d always thought it only happened in movies, we came together, tension burning into a tight little knot between us and then flinging itself wide, shattering us and scattering the pieces in the dying afternoon light. Somewhere in the midst of the blinding brightness that filled my senses, I thought I heard him say, “forgive me.”
But that didn’t make any sense.
We lay together on his bed for another fifteen minutes or so when it was over, but the stresses of my real life were beginning to creep up on me again, and I found myself growing antsy. I sat up. “Xander, this has been amazing. But I think I need to go.”
He smiled softly
at me and said, “I figured you would pretty soon. Big day tomorrow.” He looked sad, and I was about to ask him why, but then I reminded myself this was just a one-time fling. A wonderful day apart from the rest of my life.
I dressed quickly, and returned to the bedroom to find Xander in a pair of gray sweatpants, bare-chested and gorgeous.
“If you give me your email I can send you the money I owe you for lunch,” I told him.
He shook his head. “My treat. Please.”
We stood facing one another, awkward suddenly, and I wasn’t sure what to say.
I checked my watch, surprised at how late it had gotten. “Do you mind if I borrow your phone for a second? Just to let my dad know you haven’t murdered me and that I’m headed back?”
“Sure.” Xander picked up his cell from the coffee table, unlocked it and handed it to me. I called my father, who sounded strange on the other end as I told him I’d be back soon.
“Thanks for today,” I said, handing the phone back. “Good luck with … everything.”
“You too,” he said, one hand wrapping the back of his neck as he stood with me waiting for the elevator.
When it arrived, I stepped inside, and as the doors slid shut, I closed the door inside my mind as well. Time to face reality.
10
Alexander
Sleep didn't come that night, and after a few hours of lying awake, imagining the wide array of horrified and angry expressions that might cross Camille's face the next morning when she learned the truth, I gave up. I walked through my apartment; trailing my fingers along the plate glass windows that looked out at the city I'd come to love.