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I sighed as I reached down and ran a finger over her wedding band. If only it had been different for us.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
MAEVE
Since my drunken night, I’d been avoiding getting too close to Cameron, keeping a chasm between us large enough to fend off the undeniable lust that had been swamping me. I’d awoken the morning after our dinner, tangled in his arms on the sofa, pressed to his chest with him sleeping soundly. It had taken me a few minutes to remember enough about the night before for the shame to swarm through me. The night came back in flashes as I recalled being in his lap, his hardness right there against my underpants. I remembered the tequila, and his dark eyes as he watched me. His softness as I vomited and his reluctance to have me despite offering myself up to him on a platter. Yet still, I’d sought comfort in his touch.
I’d made an ass of myself.
So I avoided talking about the night in any way, shape, or form. If I pretended it didn’t exist, then maybe he would, too. I’d been so forward, so wanton. It was no wonder I’d have put him off.
The following days, we’d coexisted in an awkward truce. By day he worked and I swam, shopped and ate. I’d even had Katie round for coffee. We’d eat whatever dinner the chef dropped off together before Cameron would go off and brutalise himself in the gym until he looked ready to drop. Then the stalemate began. We’d both take to the sofa, sitting at opposite ends and trying our best to ignore the sizzling tension in the room until one of us eventually called it a night. I didn’t want the space; I wanted to curl up in his lap. Shame prevented me from suggesting it.
We were on the sofa half watching a documentary and doom scrolling on our phones when Cameron’s phone pinged. He clenched his jaw as he opened the message before tipping his head back and closing his eyes with a sigh.
‘Is everything okay?’
‘No. Father wants us at a party tomorrow.’
My mind whirred. I did not want to be around Harold. But I needed to find out what he was up to. I needed out. ‘Where?’
‘At the mansion. Want’s us to come along and play happy families. Put on a united front and all.’
‘Do we both have to be there?’
Cameron raised a brow at me. ‘Do I really need to answer that?’
I shook my head. Defying Harold wasn’t an option.
‘He has some new business arrangements that have come about because of the McGowan-Thompson truce. We need to at least show face.’
‘Can we come back home after?’
Cameron smiled at me, and it sent a flutter into my stomach. God, he was gorgeous when he smiled. Who knew those dimples had been hidden under his intense stares? ‘Yeah, we can come home.’
I hadn’t realised I’d called it home. Was it starting to feel that way? My brothers still felt like home, but being here with Cameron wasn’t nearly as dreadful as I thought it would be. Sure, I still had to have his men nearby if I went out, but that was no different to how it had been at home, just a fresh set of guys. Other than that, I had much more freedom than I had before. If it weren’t for Harold's ever lingering threat, I’d dare have said I could have been happy. If only I could break the walls, I’d put up to protect myself from getting hurt. The walls gave me a sense of protection, and Cameron seemed loath to interfere with the distance I kept creating.
‘What should I wear? Will it be formal?’ I had no idea if it was a casual soiree or a whole black-tie affair.
‘Wear whatever makes you happy. Think I’m going to turn in, I’m beat.’
‘How will I know what looks good?’ I said as he stood up and stretched, a little sliver of his rippled stomach tantalising me as he did.
‘You look good in everything.’ He held my gaze while warmth crept into my cheeks. Damn, I should just walk over there and kiss him. Every part of me longed to do it, to give into the desires that wracked me day and night. It would be foolish, though. Fucking would only add even more complications to our situation. I had a feeling giving into him physically would end with a pair of broken hearts when I had to face up to where the relationship was headed. On a fast train to disasterville.
‘Thanks,’ I said as he walked out towards his room, leaving me in the dark. Alone again.
Always alone.
There were bodies everywhere in the mansion, filling it with music and chatter and more life than I’d felt in my time there. The entertaining rooms had been decked out to the nines, and I was glad I opted for a more formal dress, knee length and sleek, a lot more demure that my split to the thigh number.
We strolled through the rooms as I marvelled at the huge floral displays that encased just about every available space. Man, Harold didn’t hold back. He must have really wanted to solidify whichever deal he was aiming for.
I had a hand through Cameron’s bent arm as he guided me about the room, swapping pleasantries with guests. Some I knew, and many I didn’t. We had some overlap in our business ties, but most people picked a side when the disputes were as volatile as our families had been.
Both Cameron and I smiled our first genuine smiles of the evening when Katie bounded toward us and pulled us into a three-way hug before slipping two tiny delicate hors d’ouevres into our hands.
‘These are Cam’s fave, and there were only a few left, so I snagged them.’
