Dating the Rebel Tycoon
‘It’s in my bedroom.’
‘Of course it is. Is there any better place from which to spy on your neighbour’s trees?’
‘There’s only one way to find out.’
She tugged her fingers so hard something popped that she wasn’t sure ought to have popped. ‘I’ll take your word for it.’
She stretched out her tense hands, and again didn’t quite know where to look—while he stood at the bottom of the stairs clean-shaven, handsome as they came, oozing cool, calm and collectedness. Pure and unadulterated Kelly.
And in that moment Rosie knew she’d been kidding herself; she’d bitten off far more than she could chew.
Cameron was secure in the lifestyle he’d been born to, while it had taken her half a lifetime and a lot of fight to become half as comfortable in her own skin, and she was still very much a work in progress.
If the two of them came together in the kind of collision she felt was on the horizon, he’d not show a dint, while if genetics counted for anything she could well be damaged beyond repair.
When he threw his keys into a misshapen wooden bowl on a chunky hall-table at the bottom of the stairs, the sound made her jump.
She blew out a stream of air, her eyes scooting over the table to find that it was covered in clutter—a baseball cap, a couple of loose computer back-up-stick thingies on brightly coloured lanyards, a camera bag tipped over and empty, a coffee cup with remnants on the rim and a messy pile of opened envelopes in need of throwing out.
The flotsam and jetsam of a real life. And a reminder that Cameron wasn’t just a name, or a bank balance, or an alma mater, or an archetype she could shove into some pigeon hole that suited her.
Above all else he was a man. A real man. Possibly the first authentic man she’d ever known.
Warmth curled throughout her insides, loosening all the immobilised places inside her. The feelings that tumbled in its wake came too thick and fast for her to even hope to herd them somewhere safe. She just dug her toes into her shoes and waited for the waves to stop.
Thankfully Cameron was in the kitchen by that stage, with his back to her and his head deep in the fridge, one hand wrapped about the edge of the door, the other wavering near the top shelf, letting out the cold air and not giving a hoot.
‘I had a crazy day today,’ his muffled voice said. ‘One level of chaos after another, starting with some attitude from your friend Bruce. It’s made me so hungry I’d eat the fridge if I had a knife sharp enough.’
Rosie was so addled; if he came out of there with a lasagne he’d cooked for her himself, she thought she might just faint.
He ducked his head round the door and his cornflower-blue gaze caught hers. She blinked and stared right back.
He was gorgeous. And this was the all-important third date. But was she willing to yield to everything that concept entailed, even knowing that afterwards he wouldn’t be going anywhere?
As though he knew the exact nature of her thoughts, the corners of his mouth lifted lazily, creating the sexiest creases in his cheeks, adorable crinkles around his eyes and such a provocative gleam in those eyes it was as good as an invitation.
Maybe she hadn’t bitten off more than she could chew. Maybe she just had to adjust her perspective on who he was and how much of him she could handle. She just had to trust herself that she’d absolutely know the moment to pull out before she’d gone too far. Or maybe, just maybe, he was worth going over the edge for.
‘I have no idea what I was hoping I might find in there,’ he said. ‘There’s not a single thing I know what to do with. How does Chinese takeaway sound?’
Rosie let go at the breath she felt like she’d been holding for the past half an hour. ‘Sounds perfect.’
CHAPTER NINE
AN HOUR later Rosie sat at the kitchen bench, three of the four white boxes of noodles empty. She abandoned the final unopened box before leaning against the chair back and laying her hand over her stomach.
Beside her, Cameron laughed. ‘For a moment there I thought I might have to throw myself in front of the leftovers to save you from yourself.’
‘No fear. I know when to quit.’
Cameron’s laughter subsided to an easy smile. And Rosie smiled back. The freak-out that had afflicted her early in the evening had faded to a reminder to take care. Once she’d mentally adjusted the limits of what she could handle, she’d begun to relax into Cameron’s effortless company.
He’d long since ditched his jacket, and Rosie her poncho and shoes. A CD played softly in the background. A fire crackled in the hearth. And the conversation fell into a natural lull.