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She smiles and saunters to the door. “There’s no lock,” she says, “but I can certainly close it.”
She shuts the door and is back in his airspace in an instant. He can’t even remember her moving there; it’s like she dissolved from the door into his embrace. He’s not thinking clearly. There’s too much input to handle, but for once that’s a good feeling.
She undoes his bow tie. He knows he can’t tie it again, but he doesn’t really care. He holds her in his arms, and she leans forward, kissing him. When she pulls away from the kiss, it’s only for a moment to catch her breath. She looks at him with intense mischief in her gaze. She leans in for another kiss that is far more explorative than the first. Cam finds he’s no slouch when it comes to this. Muscle memory, he supposes, for the tongue is most definitely a muscle.
She pulls away again, even more breathless than before. Then she presses her cheek against his, with her lips by his ear, and she whispers so quietly he can barely hear her.
“I want to be your first,” she says. She presses closer to him, the fabric of her dress hissing on the fine weave of his tuxedo.
“You seem like a girl who gets what she wants.”
“Always,” she tells him.
Cam didn’t come here looking for this. He could turn her away, but why? Why refuse this when it’s offered to him so freely? Besides, he finds that the mention of Risa has made him defiant. It’s made him want even more to be here in the moment with this girl whose name he’s already forgotten.
He kisses her again, matching her building aggression.
That’s when the door swings open.
Cam freezes. The girl steps away from him, but it’s too late. Standing in the doorway is a distinguished man looking even more intimidating in his tuxedo than Cam looks in his.
“Get your hands off my daughter!”
As his hands are already off the man’s daughter, there’s not much more he can do but stand there and let this play out.
“Daddy, please! You’re embarrassing me!”
Now others arrive, curious at the building drama. The man’s glare never falters, as if he’s practiced it professionally. “Miranda, get your coat. We’re leaving.”
“Daddy, you’re overreacting. You always overreact!”
“You heard me.”
Now waterworks abound. “Why do you always have to ruin everything!” Miranda wails, then stomps out in tears, wearing her humiliation like a war wound.
Cam is not sure how to respond to all this, so he doesn’t. He slips his hands into his pockets, lest he still be accused of having them all over Miranda as she races down the hall, and he keeps a resolute poker face. The furious man looks like he might spontaneously combust.
Roberta arrives, hesitates, and asks, “What’s going on here?” She sounds uncharacteristically weak and powerless, which means this must be even worse than Cam thinks it is.
“I’ll tell you what’s going on,” growls the man. “Your . . . thing . . . was trying to have its way with my daughter.”
“Actually, she was trying to have her way with me,” Cam says. “And she was succeeding.”
That brings forth muted laughter from several in attendance.
“Do you expect me to believe that?” He stalks forward, and Cam pulls his hands out of his pockets, ready to defend himself if necessary.
Roberta tries to come between them. “Senator Marshall, if you’ll just—”
But he pushes her aside and wags a finger in Cam’s face. Part of Cam wants to reach up and break that finger. Part of him wants to bite it. Another part wants to turn and run, and yet another part wants to laugh. Cam reins in all those conflicting impulses and holds his ground without flinching as the senator says:
“If you come anywhere near my daughter, I will see to it that you are taken apart piece by bloody piece. Do I make myself clear?”
“Any clearer,” says Cam, “and you’d be invisible.”
The senator backs off and turns his rage to Roberta. “Don’t come looking for my support for your little ‘project,’â??” he hisses, “because you won’t get it.” Then he storms out, leaving an air of oppressive silence in his wake.
Roberta speechlessly looks to Cam with helpless disbelief. Why? Those eyes say. Why have you spat on all I’ve tried to give you? You’re ruined, Cam. We’re ruined. I’m ruined.
