The Mogul And The Muscle
“No,” Inda said.
“Because if it is, I’m tempted to let it happen,” Cameron said.
“No,” Nicholas said. “We don’t… That’s not… I was just being spontaneous. God, I’m so sorry.”
Inda seemed to notice me for the first time. Her eyes widened and she put a hand to her forehead. “Oh my god, Nick, she’s not alone.”
I put up a hand. “Hi.”
Cameron stepped down into the kitchen and I followed, standing beside her. “Right, you’re here. This is Jude Ellis. He’s—”
“I’m Cameron’s new personal security consultant.”
She whipped her head around to glare at me. “He’s doing a one-time security assessment.”
I just crossed my arms, my expression stony.
Cameron shook her head at me, then turned her attention back to her blushing chef and his wife. She flicked her hand toward a set of glass doors. “Go, finish.”
Nicholas and Inda glanced at each other. “What?” Nicholas asked.
“Go finish what you started,” Cameron said. “You don’t need to suffer blue balls on my account. Go have sex with your hot wife. Just do it in your own kitchen.”
“Cam, it’s fine,” Inda said.
Nicholas shot her a look of alarm.
“What?” Inda asked him, lowering her voice to a whisper. “You could keep going after this?”
“Are you kidding?” he asked, looking her up and down.
“Ugh, you’re both disgusting,” Cameron said. “Go have sex. I’m going to go bleach my eyeballs. You can make it up to me by baking one of those key lime things again. It’s been a long day and I’d sell a kidney for one of your magical treats.”
Inda opened her mouth as if to speak, but Cameron cut her off.
“Don’t even start with me about my meal plan, Inda. I just caught you banging against my kitchen island. I deserve sugar.”
Inda clicked her mouth closed and nodded.
“Get out of here, crazy kids.”
“But, your dinner?” Nicholas asked.
Cameron started to answer, but I cut her off again. “I’ll take care of it.”
She looked at me, her eyebrows winging up her forehead.
I pushed my cuffed sleeves over my elbows and went to the sink to wash my hands. Nicholas and Inda glanced at each other again, then crept out to the terrace through the glass door.
“What are you doing?” Cameron asked.
“Cooking you dinner.” I turned off the water and dried my hands on a towel.
The kitchen was spacious, with white marble counters, an ocean blue backsplash, and stained wood cabinets that matched her luxury beach hut vibe. Tropical potted plants added vibrant color, and it was no surprise that everything looked top of the line.
She watched me move around the kitchen without saying anything, her expression bewildered. I did a quick sweep, looking for ingredients. I was no gourmet chef, but I knew my way around a decent meal. And I liked keeping Cameron off-balance.
I found fresh chicken breasts in the large double-door refrigerator, along with a container of already-prepped vegetables. She had spices in a cupboard. I set everything on the counter, dug around for a cutting board and set of knives, and got to work.
“Is meal-prep in your usual lineup of services?” She opened a cupboard and took out a wine glass, then raised her eyebrows, her hand hovering near a second one.
“None for me, and not usually,” I said. “I just figured I could do Nicholas a solid.”
“Getting in good with the chef is always a smart move. And I’m not helpless, by the way. I do know how to cook for myself.”
“No one said you didn’t.” I started slicing the chicken.
She produced a bottle of red wine and went to work opening it, then poured herself a glass. I kept my attention on the food, but I could feel her watching me. That intense green-eyed gaze of hers was scrutinizing my every move. Sizing me up. It didn’t bother me. I liked that she was being cautious, even though her close friend had hired me.
“Well, have you seen enough?” She took a sip of her wine. “Am I safe in my own home?”
“What’s out there?” I gestured toward the doors.