I turned around. My mouth opened and closed, but no words came out of it. ‘Uh, he’s . . .’ I paused, watching as he ran a towel over his body, soaking up the water that was clinging to him. It felt like that towel was soaking up my thoughts too, because I suddenly had none in my head.
‘He’s . . .’ I repeated lamely, and that was when I saw it – a flicker in his eyes. Doubt, maybe? Suspicion? Or was it something far more dangerous?
‘Hey, honey bunny!’ Cam’s voice cut through the tension. I turned to see him walking up the path towards me, and shockingly, I was actually relieved to see him, which meant I must have been feeling very, very desperate.
‘So, reception says they can’t do breakfast at the villa tomorrow morning at such short notice . . . Oh, hey!’ he said, acting surprised when he saw the Blade. ‘Going for an evening dip? I was thinking of having one too. Nothing better, right?’
‘I’ve just finished,’ the Blade said. ‘But the water’s great.’ He wrapped the towel around his waist and pulled his T-shirt back on.
Cam stepped up beside me and slid an arm over my shoulder as if we were a regular happy couple posing for a pic. Just two lovebirds chatting with the neighbour – who happened to be a cold-blooded killer whose preferred method of unaliving people was a six-inch slit to the throat.
‘Have a good evening,’ the Blade said as he turned and walked off down the path.
‘You too,’ we called after him in unison, as if we really were that couple. As soon as he was gone, we walked into the villa as casually as possible and closed the door behind us.
‘Wow! I guess private detective work pays way, way more than mine does,’ Cam said, standing in the middle of the room and turning a full 360. ‘This place is incredible.’
‘Were youfollowingme?’ I asked, folding my arms.
He gave me a small, guilty smile.
‘You were!’
‘But aren’t you glad I was? We’re supposed to be in love, remember?’
I scoffed. ‘Don’t push it. I’m still trying to get over my feelings of being left at the altar.’
‘I thought you said you forgave me?’
I shrugged. ‘I did. And then I remembered all my non-refundable wedding costs.’ I walked over to the window and glanced outside. The Blade was gone, for now. ‘Do you think he’s on to us?’
‘I hope not,’ Cam said and then to my utter disbelief, he started taking his shirt off.
‘Whoa! What the hell are you doing?’
He froze mid-movement, which only made his abs flex even more, turning his already impressive six-pack into what now looked like a ten-pack. No one had a ten-pack. No one had a chest like that, arms like that, shoulders like that.Crap!No one on the planet was supposed to be this good-looking, and yet here he was. Standing in my room half-naked, like some aesthetic gift that God himself had gifted to womenfolk. He might as well have been lying on a silver platter.
‘I know, it’s pretty impressive. Believe it or not, it’s from Pilates,’ he said jokingly, and gave his stomach a loud slap.
‘What? No! I wasn’t looking at . . . Talk about arrogant! I wasn’t . . .’ I was stumbling over my words becauseyes, I had been looking, and he knew that, so I suppose there was no point in lying about it.
‘I’ve seen better.’ I pointed vaguely at his body.
‘Well, I haven’t,’ he said, locking eyes with me. His words froze me for a second, but only for a second. The indignation burning inside me that I usually felt when I was around Cam kind of kicked all my muscles back into thermodynamic action.
‘What are you playing at?’
‘I’m not playing at anything, not if it’s the truth.’ He said it so calmly, so matter-of-factly.
‘Stop looking at me like that, Cam.’
He sighed. ‘Fine. I’m just trying to say that you look good, the years have been good to you, that’s all. You look . . . happy?’
‘Is that a question?’ I asked.
He shrugged. ‘I guess so.Areyou happy?’
I thought about it for a while, and then smiled. I had a great job, I could decide my own hours, I had Philly, Sid . . . I did currently have a bit of a situation with Byron that I wasn’t quite sure how to solve, but yes, I was happy. ‘I’m happy.’ I nodded. ‘And you?’ The words were out before I could stop myself. I hadn’t wanted to ask him that . . .or had I?
