Page 17 of Effortless

For a soul.

For any man in her path.

Right then, Tom was the one standing right in front of her oncoming destruction. Camilla Donati was a bombshell. One hell of a combination when it came to a woman. He either wasn’t smart enough to get out of the way, or he just didn’t care.

Tom understood all too well what Zeke had meant earlier with his warning.

It would be far too easy to fall in love with a woman like Camilla. All she needed to do was just speak to a man. She spoke, and he was caught.

Just like that.

Who the hell was this girl?

How had he missed meeting her for this long?

“What brought you to New York, Tom? Chicago not keeping you entertained, or what?”

“A break,” he said. “A much needed break, Camilla.”

“You can call me Cam.”

He smirked. “Is that all I can call you?”

Camilla’s brown eyes darted up to his, and that teasing tongue of hers came out to wet her bottom lip. “If you’re funding, feeding, or fucking me, then I guess you can call me whatever the hell you want, Tom, but only when you’re doing those things.”

Yeah, love.

It would be easy, he knew.

He’d marry a woman like Camilla in a heartbeat. She was one of a kind. There wasn’t another woman in her vicinity who could keep his attention like she just had, or match her fire.

“Just remember, it ends when I say it does,” Camilla added with a shrug.

“Got it.”

“Have you been drinking tonight?”

“No, why?” he asked.

Camilla handed over a small clutch. “I’ve had two glasses—enough to be over the limit on a test, not that I can even feel it. Sucks being short when it means you can’t absorb alcohol as fast. You drive; I’ll give you directions.”

“Your place or a hotel?”

“I like waking up in my own bed. Plus, I’ve got a weapon that can kill you hidden within reach in every single room, so …”

“I sincerely hope you’re not joking.”

Because that would be the perfect topper on the sexy, fan-fucking-tastic creation that was Camilla Donati.

“There’s a reason why my brother never worries about me, Tom. He’s taught me well.” She beamed at him. “And no, I’m not joking about the weapon bit, either, in case you want to test my limits.”

Camilla’s teeth sunk into her bottom lip after she added, “And I don’t have very many of those—limits, I mean.”

God, he loved that, too.

“Let’s go.” She ticked a finger over her shoulder, and set the wine glass to a small end table against the wall. “We’ll see if I can make your break from Chicago worth it, Tom.”

Hell yeah.