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He followed her line of sight to find one of the guys chatting to a girl lined up outside the bar, but he knew the cheeky bugger was there to give word back to the group. His world was excessively intimate. Everybody assumed a right to know everybody else’s business.
Which is why this girl, this outsider, with her refreshing candour and her easygoing, cool spirit was just what he needed.
When he turned back, Rosalind’s arms were crossed across her chest and her hip was cocked. Her patience was running thin.
He reached out and cradled her upper arms; the velvet was freezing cold. On impulse he ran his hands down her arms to warm her up.
And at his touch her eyes finally skittered from the bar and back to him. Mercurial grey. Luminous in the lamplight. And completely unguarded. He saw her restlessness, her disharmony, and the fact that she was searching for an excuse to be with him rather than the other way round.
Arrested, he moved close enough to follow every glint of every thought dancing behind those amazing eyes, yet not so close he found himself caught up in the scent of her until he couldn’t think straight. And he did his best to be as forthright in return.
‘Rosalind, I invited you to dinner because I knew I’d enjoy a night out with you. I chose this place as it makes the best Mexican on the eastern seaboard. As to that lot in there, I had no idea they’d be here; I haven’t seen most of them in years. It would have been far more sensible of me to have avoided them once I realised Meg’s best mate Tabitha was there, as she can talk the hind leg off a horse, but another fellow is a union lawyer and, workaholic that I am, I saw my chance to talk business and took it. Scout’s honour.’
Her eyes narrowed as she asked, ‘When were you ever a scout?’
His laughter came from nowhere, shooting adrenalin through his body, putting every muscle on high alert. No longer much caring about keeping himself at a sensible distance from her pervasive scent, he moved in tight and said, ‘It’s on my to-do list.’
She watched him a few long, agonising seconds before she gave a little shrug beneath his touch. ‘Okay, then.’
Okay, then. He took a few more moments to enjoy her sweet scent, her gentle curves leaning into him, and thought about suggesting they skip dinner after all.
He let out a long, slow breath and disentangled himself from Rosalind Harper’s corrupting wares. Self-restraint was an asset. It separated men from monkeys, and Cameron from being anything like his father. He needed to get some food into him and soon.
He slid around beside her, placed a hand in the small of her back and did his best to pay attention to his two feet as much as he was paying attention to the swing of her hips beneath his thumb as he herded her towards the Red Fox’s red doors.
‘It’s cold out,’ he said. ‘Come wait in the entrance while I get my jacket. Then we’ll find somewhere else to eat.’
‘After all the time you spent convincing me how great the quesadillas are? Not on your life.’
Well, he’d shot himself in the foot there. All he wanted was her. Alone. Distracting him senseless. Now he was going to be stuck in a place peopled by Dylan and Meg’s mates, who knew enough about him to want to catch up, and not enough to know which subjects to avoid. ‘There’s a joint down the road where you can choose your own lobster before they boil it.’
She shook her head, no.
‘You sure?’
Her mouth titled into a sexy half-smile as she said, ‘Can’t a girl change her mind?’
Somehow Cameron found the words, ‘Right. Then we’ll head inside, and say polite hellos on the way past as we find a table of our own as far away as it can possibly be. Sound good?’
‘Sounds perfect.’
‘Though, I must warn you, I fully expect them to throw potato wedges at us. If we’re lucky they won’t have dipped them in guacamole first.’
She snuck a quick look sideways. ‘I like guacamole.’
He liked her perfume. He liked her lips. He liked the feel of her beneath his hand. And most significantly he liked the fact that when he was with her his mind couldn’t for the life of it wander.
For that alone he promised her, ‘Then guacamole you shall have.’
They reached the front of the queue and the bouncer looked up, saw Cameron then opened the velvet rope without hesitation.
Cameron nudged Rosalind with his shoulder and she skipped ahead of him, glancing back with a half smile.
The bar crowd closed in around them. She ran a quick hand through her hair, fluffing it up, and straightened her shoulders like she was preparing to enter a prize fight.
Before he let himself think better of it he took her hand, and as though it was exactly what she’d been waiting for her fingers wrapped tight around his. It brought her back to his side, where her warm body fit in against him.
