One Perfect Night

by Rachael Johns

  As the door slammed behind her, she tottered on unsteady feet the meter or so to Sadie. Her eyes prickled with stupid tears. She’d known all along her night with Cameron didn’t mean anything, wasn’t going anywhere. Just coffee, remember? So why did she feel so bereft? Like she’d won the lottery only to have the government steal most of it in taxes.

  Somehow she dug her keys out of her bag and opened the car door without glancing back. He hadn’t driven off yet and she wondered what the hell he was waiting for? Surely he wasn’t being chivalric in a brightly lit car park early in the morning?

  She threw her bag recklessly across onto the passenger seat, yet just as she was about to slip into the car, her name—murmured in his deep, sensual voice—halted her. “Penelope.”

  Had he changed his mind? She spun around and almost collided with the hard planes of his chest. He caught her around the waist before she tumbled. “Cameron?”

  “I think I owe you a proper goodbye.”

  And then…oh goodness…his mouth claimed hers in a tormenting, torturous lock. Her lips acquiesced, her insides sweltered and her pulse lost any control it ever had over her heart. While her mind screamed at her to end this, her mouth begged for more and her wandering hands agreed.

  She palmed them flat against his sculpted torso. The light black cotton left nothing to the imagination and her pulse raced as his muscles tightened under her touch. Her fingers trailed dangerously toward his shoulders and a pained sound slipped from his lips. Her lips parted of their own accord and his tongue took advantage of her moment of weakness. Their kiss turned wild, as if he was actually trying to devour her.

  For a moment her eyes opened and he met her gaze with the penetrating look of a predator. She knew this “goodbye” for the dangerous game it was but resistance would be futile.

  And then it was over. He pulled back. Shook his head slightly and walked away.

  She stood, her arms hanging limply by her side and her mouth gaping as if she’d just had an encounter with the supernatural. A man couldn’t expect to kiss a woman like that and walk away.

  But what could she do to stop him?

  And besides…wasn’t this what she wanted? It was too soon after Tim. She wasn’t looking for another relationship. Had welcomed the opportunity given by Cameron to just be, to just feel without complications. A distraction—that’s what he was and that’s exactly what she wanted.

  Then why oh why did she feel like throwing her arms up in the air and kicking her feet in frustration?

  Chapter Five

  Cameron ran a hand through his hair and tried once again to concentrate on his computer screen. His usually impeccable focus had been AWOL since Christmas.

  Despite his constant distraction, the buzz of his personal mobile had him almost leaping out of his skin. For a mere moment, his heart flipped at the thought that maybe the caller was Penelope. Until he realized such a possibility was ridiculous.

  He’d never given her his number.

  There’d been no reason to. They’d both known from that near-kiss in his aunt’s bathroom that the natural conclusion to their evening was bed. But there’d been no fantasies about it being more than one unforgettable night, no discussions past the bedroom door at all in fact.

  Shaking his head that he was even thinking about her anymore, he yanked his phone off the desk and pressed Answer.

  Auntie Rose started babbling even before he’d finished his usual “Cameron McCormac” greeting.

  “It’s terrible, Cameron, just terrible.” Sobs ricocheted down the phone line. Between them, he made out the occasional word. “Five once. Scarlett. Devastated. You two…help me. Break her heart.”

  “Calm down, Rose.” Cameron spoke firmly, silently trying to decode his auntie’s gibberish. Obviously there was a problem and he was happy to help—for Auntie Rose he’d move mountains if he could—but he needed to understand what was wrong first. “Take a breath and tell me what is the matter.”

  “Haven’t you been listening, dear?”

  It wasn’t like Rose to snap. Anxiety coiled inside him.

  “I’m trying to. Now tell me what the problem is.”

  Another sob and then he heard a muffled sound. He guessed she was blowing her nose. Finally, she breathed deeply, loudly. “The woman from The Fairy Party Shop cancelled Scarlett’s birthday entertainment—family emergency. Chelsea has called every kid’s party planner in the state practically and no one is free.”

  What? She was calling him on the first business day of the year about a kid’s party? The anxiety popped and was quickly replaced by frustration. “So give the kid an old-fashioned birthday party. A bit of cake, some balloons, a couple of rounds of musical chairs and a game of Pin the Tail on the Donkey.” Quite frankly, he didn’t see what the big deal was or why it had anything to do with him.

  Nowadays he attended Christmas and Easter celebrations because he felt he owed it to Auntie Rose and the odd christening or wedding if he couldn’t find a good excuse to get around it. But he drew the line at kids’ parties. In fact, if he recalled correctly, the last one he went to would have been Scarlett’s first, the year before Kristen died.

  He pushed that thought aside, focusing on Rose’s dilemma.

  “We couldn’t possibly do that to Scarlett,” said Auntie Rose. “She’s been telling all her friends she’s having a magic fairy since June. Besides all the kids have entertainers these days.”

  “Surely you haven’t tried everyone?” he told her, already thinking that if Rose continued to insist on the need for a fairy, he’d get Molly on to it. He’d inherited a gem there—that PA could work miracles.

  “Well, not everyone,” replied Auntie Rose in a strange sing-songy type voice.

  An eerie cold flooded him because the minute she spoke he suddenly knew what she was going to say.

  “We couldn’t find your new girlfriend listed anywhere. She’s an entertainer, isn’t she?”

  Hell! Just the word girlfriend made his toenails scrape the soles of his shoes. He almost said he didn’t know if Penelope did birthday parties, but bit that faux pas before it jumped off his tongue.

  Auntie Rose continued, “Do you think she might do Scarlett’s party as a favor to you?”

  “Um…” Dammit, he never said “um.” Contacting Penelope again would go against everything he’d decided that night Kristen died, but this was Auntie Rose. She’d always looked after him, always given him everything she could, yet had never asked for anything in return. “Sure, Penelope will do it. Give me the exact date and times and I’ll sort it out.”

  He scribbled the few details down on a scrap of paper and promised Rose he’d call back soon.

  And then he disconnected his phone and swore.

  The intercom buzzed. “Cameron, I’ve got Myles Jones on line one.”

  “Thanks, Molly, but can you tell him I’ll call him back. I have another matter I need to deal with first.”

  “Okay, then…” Molly’s voice was wary.

  “And I need your help. Do have the contact details for the entertainer from the family Christmas party? I think her name was Priscilla or Penelope or something.” He hoped he sounded as nonchalant as he’d intended.

  “Oh, you mean Peppa?”

  Did he? Although she’d been fiery in the bedroom, he’d never heard Penelope shortened to that before. Perhaps it was a stage name. “She’s the one that dressed up as a fairy?”

  “Yes, that’s right,” replied Molly. “She filled in at the last minute because the entertainer cancelled.”

  Cameron chuckled. “What’s with dodgy entertainers in Sydney? That’s what’s happened to the entertainer who was supposed to perform at my niece’s birthday on Saturday. Do you have Peppa’s details?”

  He’d pay her whatever it took to make her cancel any booking she already had.

  “Sure.” Yet there was a bemused edge to Molly’s voice. “But if you want I can go downstairs and ask her. She’s recording in Studio Two now.” />
  A bolt of discomfort shot through Cameron’s veins. He reached out to grab on to the desk to stop himself falling off his swivel chair. “She works here?” His throat suddenly parched, he scanned the desk for any form of liquid. It was bad enough she’d been haunting him in his sleep. “Since when?”

  “Oh, ages. She’s one of our most experienced and prolific voice talents. And, as she showed on Christmas Eve, she’s a woman of many hidden talents as well.”

  You’re not kidding, thought Cameron, thinking of the numerous talented ways her fingers had played his body that night.

  “We were lucky she could organize the costume at such short notice,” continued Molly, totally oblivious to the fact Cameron’s world was tilting off axis.

  Lucky? He blew out a breath of frustration. There were many words charging through his mind and lucky wasn’t one of them. Stupid. Idiotic. Careless. Thanks to rampant hormones and a moment of insanity he was all of the above.

  He’d just broken his golden rule. Never sleep with an employee. Never. The pleasure wasn’t worth the inevitable fallout or his infallible reputation. He wasn’t on the market for a serious relationship and he didn’t like to play on his home turf.

  Massaging his temples aggressively, he tried to cut himself a little slack. He’d only been with Lyrique a couple of months and with over three hundred employees beneath him, he couldn’t be expected to know each and every one by name, but he liked to think he’d at least recognize them all.

  But what was Penelope’s excuse? His chest tightened at the realization she’d slept with him knowing exactly who he was. Thinking back to that fatal night, she’d looked at him strangely when he’d told her his name. She knew, yet hadn’t thought to clear up the mix-up. Suddenly all the ways she seemed different to other women were washed away on a tsunami of anger. What exactly was her agenda?

  “Cameron?”

  “Sorry.” He realized Molly had been waiting for some sort of reply. He blinked and shook his head to try and clear the haze. “What did you say?”

  “I said would you like me to ask her for you?”

  “No!” He spat the word harsher than intended and cringed. He needed to calm down a notch and he wanted to speak to Penelope himself. He had a few questions to throw her way. “Can you call the studio and arrange for her to come see me during the next break?”

  “But you’ve got a meeting,” reminded Molly.

  “Cancel it.”

  With that arranged, Cameron lay his head in his hands and tried to work out where the hell to go from here.

  “Earth to Peppa.”

  Peppa frowned and looked through the glass from the studio to where Izzy sat with earphones on her head, her ankles crossed on the desk and a pen in her mouth.

  “You read the last two lines three times,” explained Izzy. “What’s up with you?”

  “Nothing,” replied Peppa far too quickly. “Nothing at all.” She wasn’t about to tell Izzy that she couldn’t stop thinking about their elusive boss. Izzy probably wouldn’t be that shocked—sex and relationships didn’t go hand in hand in her world—but Peppa had never done anything like this before and the recollections were affecting her ability to function properly.

  Whenever she closed her eyes Cameron was there.

  She’d only been back at work two hours and already she felt like there was a time-bomb ticking beneath her feet.

  She couldn’t stop fantasizing about seeing him again but at the same time, she didn’t want to leave the security of the studio for fear she’d run into him. It was insane. She loved this job but she couldn’t work like this.

  “Yeah, right,” said Izzy, rolling her eyes. “You’ll talk when you’re ready but in the meantime, we may as well take a break. Molly just sent an email—McSexy wants to see you in his office.”

  Now the hallucinations were really affecting her work.

  She stared at Izzy, planning to lip-read this time to make sure there weren’t any misunderstandings. “I’m sorry. I thought you just said Mr. McCormac wants to see me in his office.”

  Izzy nodded. “That’s right.”

  Peppa’s blood rushed to her head. She rocked a little and her headphones fell off her head. Okay, so maybe she rocked a lot. But this wasn’t a good kind of dizzy. Not the kind of dizzy a girl in love feels when she sees her man enter a room. No, this dizzy was hell.

  Why did Cameron want to see her at work?

  For a split second joy filled her heart at the thought that maybe he wanted to continue their liaison. Hah…she was already fantasizing. They hadn’t had a liaison; they’d had a raunchy one-night stand.

  “Relax,” came Izzy’s voice out of nowhere. “Maybe he wants to discuss insurance or something.”

  “Insurance?” Peppa looked at Izzy as if she’d said he might want to discuss solutions to global warming.

  “You know, for the car incident. You never did tell me what he said about it.”

  “Oh that.” She’d almost forgotten it was a simple error of judgment in the car park that had started all this craziness. She felt her cheeks flare. “You were right. He wasn’t bothered about the car. He’ll probably take it out of my pay or something.”

  “Well, there you go,” said Izzy, taking off her headphones. She mumbled something more but Peppa couldn’t hear it through the glass.

  If she valued her job—and she did, she loved it—then what choice did she have but to take her own headphones off and go and see the boss?

  Forcing aside all thoughts of turning around and fleeing, she directed one foot in front of the other down the hall and then tried to think of other things as the elevator rushed upward. Molly greeted her as the doors peeled back on the twenty-third floor and Peppa lost all further opportunity to escape.

  “You can go straight in,” said the PA, gently touching Peppa’s trembling elbow as she led her through to a door that somehow looked intimidating.

  Pasting a larger-than-life smile across her face, Peppa held her chin high, thrust her shoulders back and teetered into the room behind Molly, trying to look as if she approached past flings on a regular basis. Trying to look anything but the absolute mess she felt inside.

  “Penelope Grant to see you,” Molly announced and then stepped to the side, leaving Peppa unshielded to the questioning gaze of Cameron McCormac’s dreamy eyes. Eyes even more dreamy than she remembered. If that were possible.

  Grrr… She tried to vanquish the thought—whatever he wanted she needed to keep her head.

  “Hi,” she finally managed before trying to swallow the lump in her throat.

  For a split second a look of appreciation lit his face, but he covered it quickly with a frown. “Morning.”

  A small part of her heart ached at his dry, almost impassive tone, a tone so different from the warmth he’d offered that night in her apartment.

  He stood and treated her to an unhindered view of the whole divine package. Her hormones rampaged over commonsense as her mind flashed with visions of that hot night. He’d been pretty irresistible in her late-night fantasies but the real thing stomped all over her memories. How was she ever going to discuss whatever he wanted to discuss when all she could think about was how much she wanted to make love with him again?

  Cameron’s heart was playing strange games in his chest. His office had never felt small before but the moment Molly shut the door behind Penelope, it seemed to have shrunk tenfold. Now his nose was being treated to the overbearing but not at all unpleasant smell of her tantalizing scent—some sort of wildflower mixed with a hint of vanilla. If he breathed in too deeply, he’d be drunk.

  Her gaze skipped over his suit and his body clenched as if she’d touched him. A surge of inappropriate lust almost floored him but, remembering who she was and where they were, he banished it.

  “Did you have a good Christmas?” he asked, trying to give his mind something to focus on other than the torturous memories of their one perfect night. Christmas should be a good topic. He had to keep h
is wits about him and Christmas generally left him cold.

  “Fabulous. My dad’s brother surprised us with his wife and their two young grandsons.” She laughed slightly at the recollection. “I spent most of the day on the back lawn under the sprinkler.”

  His muscles tightened at the image. He couldn’t help but wonder what she’d been wearing. A bikini? Tiny shorts and a tight, white tee? A tight, white, wet tee?

  Seemingly oblivious to the effect of her words, she asked, “What about you? How was rock climbing?”

  Yes. Good. Rock climbing. Best to keep the conversation to things he was comfortable discussing. Things that didn’t make his head spin and his groin ache. “Gave the usual rush.”

  She nodded as if she understood. “Do you rock climb a lot?”

  He tried to focus on their exchange instead of the memory of her shapely thighs brushing against his legs and her nipples drilling pleasurably into his chest. Tormenting images. “Yes. I prefer running and climbing over manufactured exercise and I think it’s important to take time away from the office to clear the head occasionally.”

  “That makes sense.”

  Had to be about the only thing that did. Because right now, he wanted to forget about confronting Penelope, or Peppa, or whatever she wanted to be called, forget about helping Auntie Rose and simply focus on the feelings of the present. Feelings of mind-shattering attraction. Feelings of lust. Feelings of her.

  How easy it would be to stride around the desk, pull her against him and press his lips against hers.

  Dammit! He had to get a grip.

  She glanced fleetingly at the client chairs on the other side of his desk but he resisted the urge to ask her to sit. The last thing he needed was Penelope getting ideas when he was having enough trouble keeping his own randy thoughts under control, which was bizarre. He’d been no stranger to women since Kristen’s death—the distractions they offered kept his mind off his despair—but he’d never felt temptation like this.