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Her eyes shifted sideways to the four other domes, a move he didn’t miss.
‘Lobster-tail salad with truffle oil,’ he said. ‘Followed by apple and rhubarb tart with homemade vanilla and cinnamon ice cream.’
She warmed a good ten degrees.
A while later, after she swallowed her last mouthful of what had been the most heavenly, delicious apple pie ever created, Rosie let out a great sigh, folded her napkin on the table and looked up to find Cameron sitting back in his chair watching her.
She wiped a quick hand over her mouth, in case she had a glob of melted ice cream on the edge of her lip. But that wasn’t it. He was watching her like she’d watched the lobster tail: with relish for what was ahead.
Those blue eyes of his, so like his dad’s.
Her heart squeezed for him so suddenly, she held a hand to her chest. But knowing how it felt to have no father at all was one connection she couldn’t will away. She wondered what might happen if someone stuck his father and him in a room together and locked the door. It couldn’t hurt, but would it help?
Or should she just mind her own business and be glad he was ever so slightly aloof? Aloof was a good thing. Aloof meant there was no chance of any real deep connection being made. Which was fine. Great, even. Perfect.
Cameron’s mobile phone rang, and she jumped.
He glanced at it briefly then ignored it.
It rang and rang, and Rosie ran a finger over the last of the melted, cinnamon-flecked ice cream on her plate, licking it off her finger. ‘I think that might be your phone making all that racket.’
‘It’s my brother Brendan,’ he said, jaw tight. ‘He’s the least likely person in the world to call unless he wants something.’
If she’d thought him aloof before, that was nothing compared with the thick, high wall blocking all access to him now. But it didn’t help her situation one bit. If there was one thing she didn’t like more than feeling emotionally unchecked, it was being made to feel invisible.
‘Unless, of course, it’s an urgent family matter,’ she said, her voice as rigid as his change of behaviour.
His brow furrowed as he glanced at his phone, already a million miles away from her. ‘Do you mind?’
‘Not in the least.’ She stood, snaffled a sugar-sprinkled strawberry from a bowl and took the opportunity to give herself some much-needed breathing space.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ROSIE had no idea how long she sat on a box crate, nothing between her and the edge of the building but fresh air, watching the world below her winding down.
The Brisbane River curved like a silver snake around the city. White boats bobbing on the river surface looked like little glow-bugs; dark patches dotted within the sparkly array marked out gardens and parks. And ragged mountains in the distance barely altered the gentle curve of the horizon.
The world was whisper-quiet, bar the shoosh of the wind. And above? The moon was hidden behind patchy, leopard-print cloud, and delicate, multi-coloured stars beamed intermittently through the gaps.
A wall of warmth washed against her back. She tensed and turned to find Cameron, his face lit by the quiet moonlight. ‘Everything okay?’
‘Fine,’ Cameron said, in such a way that she knew it was not. She knew it was about his dad. The moment heaved between them. She itched to ask, to know, but the truth was for her the less she knew about him the better. That always made it easier when the time came to kiss cheeks and walk away.
‘So what do you think of the view?’ he asked, sliding a crate next to hers.
She hugged her knees to her chest and wrapped her floaty dress tight about her. ‘Apart from it giving me a case of adult-onset vertigo?’
He laughed. ‘Apart from that.’
‘The view is…lovely.’
‘Just lovely? Not magnificent? Not unmatchable? This floor will be rented out for so much money it makes me almost blush.’
‘It’s pretty. But kind of unreal when surrounded by so much concrete and steel. You really want to see something? Stars so bright, so crisp, so shiny and perfect, that you just want to hug yourself to keep all that beauty locked up tight inside of you.’
As her little flight of fancy came to a close she realised he was watching her with that inscrutable intensity that swept her legs out from under her. Lucky thing she was sitting.
‘Where, pray tell,’ he asked, ‘Can a man see such stars?’
‘You’re mocking me.’
‘I am. Only because it makes you blush, which is a view to match even this one.’
She thanked her lucky stars that he was yet to figure out her blushing had nothing to do with his words, and everything to do with his…everything. As his eyes searched hers, she looked back out into the night.
