I hesitated, my mind scrambling for a way out of this, but I didn’t think there was one, so I might as well lean into it. ‘So you caught me looking at your computer screen. So what? You would’ve done the same.’
Silence. I waited for a while, expecting him to say something in reply, but he didn’t. Then, the soft scrape of a chair. Footsteps getting closer. I swallowed. Closer still.
‘Come on, Lizzy.’ Cam’s voice was low, almost teasing. ‘We both know you weren’t trying to check if I’d paid my bills on time. Which I have, by the way.’
I could feel him now, standing right behind the wall.
‘Well, if not that, then what was I looking at? Because it certainly wasn’t you,’ I lied. Badly.
‘Let’s call it even, shall we?’ he said, his voice dipping still lower. ‘I was checking you out earlier, and now you’re checking me out. Fair’s fair.’
‘I was not—’ I shot my head around the wall, ready to argue, only to be met with his face.
Right there.
Inches from mine.
Shit.
I sucked in a breath.
He tilted his head, an amused expression etched into his face, but also something else. We weren’t touching, and yet it felt like we were. And suddenly I wasn’t in this villa any more; I was in his room six years ago, just like I’d been this morning at breakfast. Neither of us moved. Neither of us spoke. I should’ve stepped back. Should’ve looked away.
But I didn’t. And neither did he.
Instead, he lifted his hand and reached for my face. My instincts kicked in immediately, and I grabbed his wrist, twisted it and pinned it to the wall. His body followed, his back slamming into the wall with a thud.
‘What the hell are you doing?’
‘I could ask you the same question. What wereyoudoing?’ I shot back.
‘What did youthinkI was doing?’
‘I just . . . I thought maybe you were gonna do some kind of move or something.’
‘Jesus, Lizzy. I was just going to say you have something on your face.’
‘What?’
He lifted his hand again, and this time I didn’t stop him. His fingertip brushed my cheek and lingered there for a moment before he pulled it back and showed me what was on it.
‘An eyelash,’ he said. ‘Make a wish.’
‘That’s an old wives’ tale.’
‘Humour me! I’ll even make one too.’
‘That’s silly,’ I said, but for some reason, despite myself, I closed my eyes and blew. When I opened them again, he was still watching me.
‘Let me guess. You wished you’d catch Victor red-handed and then throw him in jail and lose the keys?’
‘Obviously.’
‘It wouldn’t be you if you weren’t thinking about something like that.’
‘Well, it was either that or wishing you dead,’ I quipped.
‘Wow. You really know how to keep a guy on his toes.’
