‘Do we have a deal?’ he murmured against her mouth.
Her own hands got busy with his belt buckle. ‘Deal.’
The next few days passed in a blur. During the day Cameron worked at the office. Mostly. And they kept things platonic—well, almost. If you didn’t count Monday’s lunchtime session in the spa or the interlude in the sky garden. Her exhibition piece was growing, taking shape slowly but surely.
One of Cameron’s employees took Charlie. Didi was devastated to see him go, but happy he’d found a safe new home where he’d be cared for. One day perhaps she could have him back. She missed him. Get used to it—very soon she’d be missing Cameron as well.
In the evenings they went out for a quick bite or purchased dinner from the numerous takeaway stores nearby. Either way, they walked, taking in the fresh evening air so Didi could stretch her legs after working all day in the one spot. And every night was another magical journey of discovery.
The dresses were delivered to the apartment on Tuesday. A boutique full of beautiful expensive designer outfits. Accessories. Shoes. Any woman would have been beside herself. Didi wasn’t any woman.
Did Cameron want to help her decide? she phoned to ask. No. Anything the lovely Chris chose was sure to be a knockout and he was looking forward to seeing Didi all dressed up on Saturday night. And by the way—had he told her?—Chris had booked her in to Tiara’s Spa and Beauty—the latest ‘in’ place—for Saturday afternoon. The massage and hot stone treatment would do her good.
It wasn’t the massage she worried about. No hairdresser had come within cutting distance of her hair in a long time. She trimmed it herself with the aid of mirrors. And make-up? She didn’t bother with more than the basics of foundation, lip gloss and blusher.
Compromise. They’d made some compromises over the past week and Didi was realising it didn’t mean she had to give up her control or her independence. That she could look at a situation from another’s point of view, another’s needs. But this transformation? She wasn’t so sure.
A stranger stared back at Didi in her mirror on Saturday evening. A sophisticated-looking woman in a short black organza dress with kohl-rimmed eyes, siren-red glossed lips and her hair carefully styled to wisp softly around her face. At least they hadn’t cut it. She wanted to cry, but the truckload of mascara they’d applied would probably run.
She wanted to run.
She’d seen something she wished she hadn’t while flicking through an out-dated magazine at the salon—a photo of Cameron and a stunning brunette almost as tall as he was. The don’t-date-him poster girl? Possibly. The woman on the other end of the mystery phone calls? Again, possibly. How could she compete with that kind of woman?
She could hear Cameron pacing the marble floor beyond. She’d cloistered herself back in her own room since she’d arrived back from her salon appointment. She was now fifteen minutes behind their agreed time.
What would he think when he saw her? Would she come up to scratch? With no hope of competing with women like that brunette, Didi felt the same insecurities that had haunted her when she’d attended functions with her family.
Turning away from the unnervingly false image, she picked up the tiny red velvet evening purse. She wasn’t sophisticated, why was she pretending to be someone she wasn’t?
Because she was Cameron’s partner for the evening. Tonight she’d try to be the poised cosmopolitan woman he expected. She could play the part for one night. One more week, one gallery opening and their no-strings arrangement would be over.
Cameron knocked on her door. ‘Ready?’
Her heart gallumphed. Her hands turned clammy and cold. She primed her lips for a smile, took a steadying breath and said, ‘Ready as I’ll ever be.’
She got a glimpse of dark eyes and clean-shaven jaw as she opened the door. A whiff of aftershave as she ducked under the arm he’d leaned against the jamb and hurried to the hat stand to grab her new black coat, which was part of the package.
‘Hey, what’s the rush?’
‘We’re running late, my fault. Sorry.’ Her fingers closed over the soft wool but Cameron took it from her.
‘We can run a little late,’ he said, his deep voice vibrating along her spine, his breath disturbing the hairs on her nape. ‘Turn around and let’s get a look.’
She almost forgot her own insecurities when she swivelled on her stilettos and got a look at Cameron in full formal getup. Oh, my…Damn, he looked good. She almost reached out to finger the bow tie and give herself an excuse to drift her knuckles against his throat, until she saw him staring at her as if he’d never seen her before…and remembered why.