Memoirs of a Millionaire's Mistress

But the sound of voices, the smell of food and kids, faded. The whole scene blurred around the edges. Only Cameron remained in focus, as if she were looking through a tunnel. She saw his fingers tighten on the edge of the table. His jaw tightened infinitesimally. He didn’t straighten but she knew the muscles in his back had turned rigid.

She knew because it was happening to her.

His eyes relayed a message she didn’t want to read—emotion. She felt her own emotions flow to him on a tide of something perilously close to trust.

Vulnerability.

No. Dragging her eyes away, she concentrated on loosening her grip on the knife, rolled tension from her shoulders. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Wasn’t going to happen. Not even when she noticed he was making his way towards her, still watching her with those bluer-than-blue eyes.

‘Not your boyfriend, eh?’ Joan chuckled. ‘He’s been distracted all evening. And you too, I think.’

Didi glared at the sandwich as she sliced it into ruthless triangles, not being distracted by the man and her unwise reaction to him. ‘I don’t need a man in my life.’

‘Ah, but maybe he needs you,’ Joan murmured.

Didi’s laugh came too fast, sounded too brittle. She reached for more bread, more ham. Cameron’s ‘need’ for Didi wasn’t the kind Joan was referring to. It would never be anything else. Cameron had made it quite clear their three-week arrangement was all there was.

And she’d agreed.

So…maybe that made it okay to watch him as a purely sexual being…She lifted her eyes…He was talking to a boy with a baseball cap on backwards and dirt-stained hands.

A shout nearby had Didi turning sharply. A teenager had collapsed and was lying on the floor. Cameron was beside the girl in seconds. ‘Call an ambulance!’ he yelled as pandemonium broke out amongst the crowd gathering around the unconscious girl. ‘Everyone move back. Joey, go wait out the front for the ambos.’

Joan flew into action, phoning the emergency services while Didi rushed around the counter and elbowed her way to Cameron’s side. ‘Anything I can do?’ Didi’s heart was thumping. The girl was sheet white, her lips blue, skin cold to the touch when Didi took her hand.

‘Stay out of the way.’ His attention didn’t waver as Didi chafed the girl’s hand and kids jostled for a better look.

‘And get those kids back,’ he barked. ‘She’s unresponsive, barely breathing.’ He shoved up her sleeve, revealing the tell-tale bruising. ‘Overdose.’ He expelled a four-letter word, then muttered, ‘Lizzie, when are you going to learn?’

He knew her name, Didi thought. He knew the kids’ names. Didi absorbed that information for a split second, then, snapping into action, she shooed the audience back, giving Cameron air and space to work.

He checked the patient again. ‘Mask.’ His voice snapped with authority—no nerves, just an iron control—obviously he’d done this before, and more than once.

Joan appeared, dropping to her knees beside him, handing him the requested mask. He placed it over the girl’s mouth and nose and immediately began resuscitation.

Seconds dragged by without end. Cameron worked steadily, breathing for the girl while Joan checked her pulse and Didi kept a clear space between them and the onlookers.

Finally, finally, the wail of a siren. Chaos, noise as paramedics rushed in with equipment. Pressing her lips together to bring the circulation back, Didi turned away. She couldn’t look at Cameron right now. Black spots danced in front of her own eyes. Blame her earlier migraine and medication and lack of food, but, damn, she would not pass out in front of him.

She knew now why he’d been so panicked when he woke her earlier. She’d left her pills on the night-stand, he’d jumped to conclusions. And little wonder. She sank onto the nearest chair.

A few moments later she heard the wail of the sirens fade as the ambulance sped away, the background noise of voices and chairs scraping and the drum of her own heartbeat.

She didn’t know how long she sat there. She knew Cameron and Joan were busy, calming kids, talking to those who’d been with Lizzie. Making phone calls.

‘You okay?’ Cameron sat down at the table opposite her, his warm steady hand enveloped her own and dark eyes met hers. Sweat dotted his brow. The lines around his mouth looked deeper. He’d probably been on the go all day and then this…and now her. ‘Yes. Is…she going to be all right?’

The worry lines etched deeper into his brow. ‘We’ve done what we can, now we wait. I’ll phone the hospital later.’

‘You were brilliant back there.’