by Fox, Addison
Her eyes clouded with confusion as he pulled back and stepped through the door, and Booth counted the moment a personal victory. Especially when he took in the small line that furrowed itself between her slender dark eyebrows.
Just as he was about to break his arm with the self-congratulations, a broad smile spread across her face, tinged with clearly wicked overtones. “I’ll be gentle. Unless he decides to pick out my underwear.”
She shut the door on him before he could respond.
***
Camryn’s heart still raced an hour later as she continued to replay the moments with Booth in her mind. Damn, how did the man manage to mix her up so badly? And what was with that moment at her door?
I’ll be gentle. Unless he decides to pick out my underwear.
Had she really said that? Like the texts of a few weeks ago, it was like some impish urge had taken hold of her mouth.
No matter how hard she tried, she simply couldn’t get her footing with Booth. Lust wasn’t the most rational reason for causing possible upheaval to her life.
But it would be damn fun.
Shaking it off, she keyed back in on the problem that was currently wasting her afternoon. Camryn knew her wardrobe was plain, but she was a financial professional for heaven’s sake, not a fashion model. She left the flashy colors to her sisters and was just fine with that. Keira was their CEO and the fashion-forward face of McBride Media. Mayson was their marketing guru. Both needed to project that fiery passion that drew the eye.
She, on the other hand, needed to make investors feel comfortable signing over their money. It was a role she excelled at. A role she enjoyed.
And in the last two weeks, a role she’d begun to wonder if she hid behind.
The loud sighs of ecstasy coming from the far side of the fashion closet pulled her from her reverie. “Closet” was something of an understatement, Camryn knew, but it’s what they called the large room that housed all the various fashion samples that came to McBride Media each and every month for possible use in their magazines.
“This. Is. Gorgeous.” Sinclair had a handful of clothing slung over his arm as he came around the back side of an overstuffed rack of clothes, waving a dress in a particularly beautiful and eye-catching shade of green in his hand.
“The Gucci is fabulous.”
“It is completely fabulous and you’re wearing it to your dinner Friday night.”
“I’m not wearing a dress without a shoulder to meet a group of investors.”
“You most certainly are.” Sinclair shoved the dress at her as he pointed to a dressing room. “Go put it on.”
“It’s a business dinner.”
“And you will look both gorgeous and professional.” He waved a hand. “Now go.”
“I have a very suitable cocktail dress to wear to dinner,” she hollered over her shoulder as she marched to the changing area.
“Which you won’t be wearing. I know that dress is your size and you’re going to accessorize it with those strappy Prada pumps I pulled out of your closet right before we left.”
The urge to argue rose up but she tamped down on it. The man was clearly not going to be satisfied until she acquiesced to his bidding, and she had a four o’clock meeting she wanted to get to on time.
Camryn made quick work of her blouse and skirt, then pulled the sheath on over her head. The material slid down her body like a caress—over her breasts, stomach, and hips—and an image of Booth’s hands on her skin rose up to fill her thoughts. With a heated shiver, she forced the erotic image from her mind and turned toward the mirror.
It was only when she caught sight of herself that she took in a sharp breath. She looked…hot.
Still professional, but hot, too.
The dress hit just above the knee, leaving her legs bare. The single shoulder she’d already determined couldn’t be sticking out all by itself for her business dinner looked sleek and elegant and an image of herself in the vivid green, surrounded by a sea of men dressed in business suits, filled her mind’s eye.
“Come on out.”
“Sinclair, I’m not sure.”
“Out. Now.”
Camryn kept the sigh to herself and pulled back the heavy curtain in her dressing room. She wanted to muster an argument as to why she shouldn’t wear the dress, but the little devil on her shoulder—her very bare shoulder—kept forcing the image of her amid the suits to the forefront of her mind.
“You look amazing.”
“It’s an important dinner.”
“And you’re going to wow them.” As if he understood her hesitation, Sinclair walked up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. “Both before and after you open your mouth. There’s nothing that impresses a man like a beautiful woman who can think for herself.”
Camryn wasn’t so sure about that, but the longer she stood there in the dress, the more she was positive she couldn’t not wear it. If for no other reason than to see the look in Booth Harrison’s liquid blue gaze when he saw her walk into the room.
Chapter Four
“Shirley in layout told Marie in web development who told Sean in sales that you were trying on dresses in the fashion closet.”
Camryn glanced up from a stack of paperwork as Mayson walked into her office and dropped into a chair opposite the desk. “I’m so happy to hear the grapevine is alive and well when we have six magazines to put to press tonight.”
“What’s going on? You avoid the fashion closet like there’s a snake lurking around your feet, tempting you out of the Garden of Eden.”
“I do not.”
Mayson leaned forward on her pregnant belly. “Then why didn’t you take that divine Chanel suit I told you about last month?”
“I won’t risk my reputation as the financial officer of the company, taking free gifts.”
Mayson’s eyebrows shot toward her hairline. “It’s not free gifts if you’re one of the reasons the designers send their wares our way. They want to be featured in our magazines and on the high-powered news makers who run the company.” She pointed toward her rounded belly. “And they’re certainly not for me right now.”
“You look gorgeous and you’re glowing.”
“I feel glowy, but it doesn’t change the fact I won’t see one of the sizes occupying the fashion closet for many more months. If ever.”
Camryn couldn’t hold back the smile—or the excitement—at the evidence she’d soon be an aunt. Although Mayson and her new husband, Holt, had experienced their challenges, they were well on their way to their happy ever after. Or happy “to be together for whatever life threw their way” ever after, which was really the whole point of commitment anyway.
“I’ve selected a few items for my event with the Financial Journal,” she admitted.
“Sean said there was a man accompanying you in the fashion closet. Put me out of my misery and tell me you got it on with Booth Harrison in there.”
“Mayson!”
Her younger sister had the good graces to look moderately embarrassed. “Sorry.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Okay. Not much. But tell me. Was it Booth?”
“No.”
Confusion stamped itself momentarily in Mayson’s eyes before she barreled forward with the inquisition. “So who was it?”
Camryn closed the lid of her laptop, resigned she’d not get through the rest of the day’s work if she didn’t indulge her sister. “Sinclair Preston. From the FJ.”
“What was he doing here?”
“He’s responsible for the event in Hawaii and is also coordinating my upcoming interview pieces for the FJ online. He also felt my wardrobe needed an upgrade prior to departing for Hawaii.”
Mayson’s closed lips and sudden interest in a magazine prototype on the edge of the desk were clear giveaways she was firmly in Camp Sinclair.
“I know that look.”
“What look?”
“The one that says you wish I’d wear a color other than b
lack.”
“Black is the absence of color.”
Camryn tossed a foamy, lightweight stress ball at her sister. “See. I knew you had an opinion.”
“I just think you’re a beautiful woman and you will look even more beautiful in something colorful.” Mayson leaned as far forward as her current condition would allow. “So what are you taking for the trip?”
Camryn pointed to the seating area on the far side of her office. “It’s all over there on the couch.”
“I’m calling Keira for this.”
Before Camryn could protest, Mayson had the phone off its cradle and was speed-dialing their oldest sister. With a resigned shake of her head, Camryn crossed to the small fridge she kept next to her credenza and pulled out a few bottled waters. Might as well keep the natives hydrated while she gave them her fashion report.
The caps were barely off the bottles when Keira barreled into the room. “What’d I miss?”
“I thought you had to leave for Europe.” Camryn knew her tone was harsh but she didn’t understand why they were making such a fuss.
Keira waved it off as she snagged a water. “I leave tomorrow. And what’d I miss?”
“Camryn’s bringing her A-game to Hawaii.” Mayson’s voice rang out with a gleeful chortle. “I’m sure your brother-in-law is going to approve most heartily.”
Keira’s smile was subtler than their younger sister’s, but Camryn didn’t miss the pleasure she took in the prospect. “Camryn always brings her A-game. Tell me more.”
Camryn picked up the clothing bag Sinclair had used to wrap up what she’d begun thinking of as her trousseau. “I picked out a few outfits for the trip to Hawaii. It’s no big deal.”
Ever the voice of reason, Keira pointed toward the garment bag as she walked toward it. “Can we see them?”
“Of course.”
Keira helped her unzip the bag and Camryn couldn’t hold back her own smile at the collective sigh over the green Gucci dress.
“Oh, Cam. That’s gorgeous.” Mayson’s voice was breathless and Camryn was pretty sure it wasn’t from her pregnancy.
Keira picked up the hem of the dress and held it up. “It is, which is why we featured it a few months ago. And I’ve no doubt it looks gorgeous on you.”
“It looks good.”
“Not it,” Mayson corrected. “You.”
A small giggle welled in her throat. “Okay. Me. I look damn fine in it, as a matter of fact.”
“Of course you do.” No one could miss the notes of approval in Mayson’s voice, or her broad smile as she lifted her water bottle to her lips.
“Which is why,” Keira added, “Booth won’t be able to take his eyes off of you.”
“That’s not why I’m doing this.” Camryn wasn’t sure why she was holding back on her sisters. The three of them were as tight as the proverbial Musketeers and her sisters had shared their ups and downs on the path to true love.
Why was she so reticent to even admit what was going on with Booth?
Because it’s not going to last.
Her sisters had moved on with their lives. They’d fallen in love with men who had fallen in love with them. Heck, her baby sister was going to be a mother. What they had was real.
Talking about a having a fling with a man sounded like something out of college. It was frivolous and silly. And Camryn made a point to never be either of those things.
As she ran a hand over the vivid green silk, though, she couldn’t help but wonder what it might be like to be silly and frivolous.
Just once.
…
I hope you know avoidance is an aphrodisiac.
Camryn stared at the text message currently lighting up the face of her phone. Like clockwork, Booth texted her every night around ten. And no matter how many times she told herself she needed to stay strong and ignore his messages, she always answered.
I’m working, not avoiding.
It was the truth. She had a lot to do before leaving for Hawaii. And she was wrapping up a quarterly earnings report. And she still needed to run five-year projections on a new title they wanted to launch the following spring. And the Morrison deal was so close to closing she could taste it.
And, and, and…
You’re always working. Play hooky and get a drink with me.
The temptation Booth offered was strong, but she held back. They’d see each other soon enough. In the meantime, flirty texts would have to do.
Hooky’s for bad girls.
She barely had to wait for the response.
Tell me more.
A burst of laughter escaped her lips and Camryn knew she had asked for that response. She tapped her lips, trying to come up with something as flirty as the bad girl comment, when a hard knock came on her door. Her doorman hadn’t buzzed her, so the knock was especially strange.
She padded from her office and down the hall, tempted to call the doorman when the knock came again. “Camryn. It’s me. Booth.”
A quick glance down at her Amherst T-shirt, sweatpants, and thick socks had her nearly reconsidering the door, but she ignored the urge to hide. If he wanted to show up unannounced, then he had to deal with the consequences.
“Hi.”
His smile was broad as he held up a bottle of wine. “I brought hooky to you.”
“That’s generous.” She stepped back and allowed him in. “What brings you out so late?”
“I, too, had a late night at the office and decided to play a hunch.”
She gestured for him to follow her down the hall to her kitchen. “What hunch was that?”
“That you’d put me out of my texting misery and have a drink with me.”
“As you can see, I’m dressed in the height of fashion for late-night drinks.”
His voice whispered over her ear as he leaned in behind her. “You look spectacular.”
“Booth.” She turned at the door, effectively blocking the entrance. “You can’t keep pushing this.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s complicated. I’m not even dressed for a date.”
“So get undressed.”
The comment came back so fast, she could only goggle at him, slightly dumbfounded. “I’m sorry?”
“I think you look fantastic, but if you don’t like it, change it. Or change out of it.”
He wiggled his eyebrows and she couldn’t hold on to her annoyance—or concerns about her outfit—at his funny gesture. “Clothing isn’t optional this evening.”
“Pity.” He glanced around, his gaze taking in the kitchen. “You have a great apartment. I only got to see part of it when Sinclair was here. Show me the rest.”
She couldn’t help but shake her head. “You don’t give up, do you?”
“Not when there’s something I want.” He leaned in once more and her pulse kicked up to double time. “And I most definitely want you.”
“You tell that sob story to my doorman? I’m surprised he let you up unannounced.”
“Mrs. Foxworthy in Apartment 12F let me up. We met in the elevator when I was here the other day and she’s obviously taken a shine to me. She saw me in the lobby and vouched for me.”
“Watch out there. She’s a saucy widow known for her cougar-like tendencies.” Camryn allowed her gaze to linger on his broad shoulders and the narrow waist that was visible where his suit jacket hung open.
“So I gathered.” He slapped the back of his hand to his forehead. “And while I feel slightly cheap and used, she did get me up here unannounced so I’ll consider it time well spent.”
“You really are a nut.”
“I had to be, growing up in my family.” He set the bottle down on the counter. “Come on. Show me around. This is a Classic Eight, right?”
“Yes.” The same sensation she’d experienced before—something like Dorothy being pulled up into the tornado funnel—filled her but she couldn’t deny that spending time with Booth was far more interesting than the paperwork she’d brought hom
e.
“Lots of room for one person.”
“It was my grandmother’s apartment. She’d grown up here and she and my grandfather maintained it. I’ve done some updating, but the floors and the crown moldings are original.”
His appreciation for the space and questions carried them through the apartment until they came once again to her office. “So this is where you work your magic?”
“It’s my quiet space.”
Booth walked to the window. “I bet it’s got great lighting during the day.”
“On the rare days I’m home to see it? Yes.” She’d meant the words as a joke, but as soon as they left her lips, Camryn knew they held a resounding ring of truth.
If Booth had any reaction to her words, he held it back and instead used her comment to his advantage. “Let’s have that drink.”
He followed her back down the hallway to the kitchen and she marveled at the strange rush of emotion. Their conversation was comfortable and easy, yet there was that subtle tension that always spiked between them that she was unable to ignore.
“You’ve made this space your own. The vibrant color and the bold walls. It’s you.”
“Thank you.”
She allowed him to deal with the cork as she pulled wineglasses from the cabinets. The moment held a quiet domesticity and her thoughts filled with what it would be like to have a partner. Someone to share her evenings with, even if it was just a quiet night at home.
Especially if it was just a quiet night at home. It would be…nice. Lovely, actually.
Shaking off the fanciful thoughts, she handed Booth the glasses and he handed one back a moment later, filled with a pretty pinot noir. Lifting his glass to hers, his smile had the telltale signs of something wicked. “To technology.”
“Technology? That’s a unique thing to toast.”
“Text technology, specifically.” He clinked his glass against her still one.
“That’s been…I mean, it’s…”
“Fun.” That wicked glint never left his eyes, but he added a cocky smile to complete the package. He pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “You should try it more often.”
