One Perfect Night (8 page)

Before they were in full view of the guests, Chelsea ambushed them and grasped Peppa in one of her effusive hugs. “Thank you, my sweet,” she sang. “The moment Cameron brought you home I knew I liked you and I’m so happy you said yes to today.”

Penelope shrugged, her cheeks tinting pink. “Nonsense. It’s the least I could do for Cameron’s family. He’s spoken so much about you all that I feel like I already know you.”

“Really?” Chelsea’s eyes widened and she let go of Penelope long enough to turn and beam at Cameron. “That’s so sweet.”

What the hell?
Cameron couldn’t help the upward trek of his eyebrows as he watched the exchange between the two women. He knew Penelope was only playing the part he’d asked of her but did she have to play it so damn well? Chelsea had been good friends with Kristen and, although he didn’t want her to be cruel to his fake girlfriend, this particular type of friendliness felt like a betrayal.

He interrupted their compliment-infused
tête-à-tête.
“Penelope’s only got an hour. Shouldn’t she get started?”

“Oh, of course,” laughed Chelsea. She smiled at Penelope. “I’d almost forgotten you were here for Scarlett. We’ll have to do dinner and a movie sometime soon.”

“Sounds good,” said Penelope and then she and Chelsea linked arms and practically skipped down the garden path.

Frowning, Cameron followed them at a much less enthusiastic pace.

The next forty-five minutes or so flew by in a whirl. Cameron watched the spectacle like a weatherman assessing a hurricane. He couldn’t take his eyes off Penelope and her energy. The girls adored her, all clamoring for her attention every time she wanted one of them to help her with a trick. But they weren’t the only ones who wanted to be near her. Occasionally she’d look up and catch him staring. He tried for an encouraging smile but wasn’t sure whether he carried it off. Being here with the family who loved him, who tried to make things right when they never would be, was always tough. Ironically Penelope’s presence made things worse.

The facade they’d created reminded him all too much of when Kristen came to family gatherings. Not that Penelope was anything like Kristen really, but she’d made an imprint and his family liked her a little more than he wanted.

Why he’d ever come up with this harebrained idea to stop them matchmaking he couldn’t tell!

As his cousin held up a pink fairy castle sugar creation, which he guessed was a cake, a dozen little girls stampeded past him into the house. Unfortunately the last one crashed at his feet, looked up at him with big green eyes and burst into tears. He cursed silently. Tears on adult females made him uncomfortable but little females crying…almost unbearable. He glanced around but as much as he wanted to remove himself, there was no one else who’d noticed. He stooped down so he didn’t frighten her and offered his hand to the distressed child.

She stared at him accusingly, her eyes wide and her mouth decidedly pouted. High maintenance from the tip of her blond curly head to the purple ruffles on her fancy dress.

“That was a bit of a stunt,” he said, trying to divert the girl’s attention from her grazed knee. Hoping she’d be easily placated. “You could be in the movies when you get big.”

The little girl sniffed and crossed her arms. “I don’t like movies.”

Of course not. This was why he didn’t hang out with little kids. He had no idea what they were into these days. The sniffles became louder and threatened to become sobs. Desperate, he scanned the surrounds for inspiration. His eyes took in her dress and it suddenly clicked. She was five and a girl, just like his niece.

“Not normal movies,” he said, as if she were silly to even think the idea. “Fairy movies. Fairies may look pretty and dainty but they need to be tough and flexible to stand up to the evil boy monsters.” He spoke softly so she had to stop crying to listen. “And I can tell from that stunt work that you have what it takes.”

He offered his hand again when he noticed her lips turning upward slightly to soften her glower.

“Really?” She put her tiny hand in his and let him help her to her feet. “Like Fairy Princess Ashontae?”

He had no idea who this woman was. “Yes,” he said firmly, “exactly like Fairy Princess Ashontae. Now, future fairy, you’d better walk like a normal girl to get into the house or you might miss out on a slice of cake.”

The little girl dashed away in exactly the manner he’d warned her against. Penelope sidled up beside him and smiled warmly. “You were awesome.”

“Huh? You were the awesome one.”

“I meant with Emma.” Penelope gestured to where the girl had fallen. “That was quite a tumble but you fixed it.”

He shrugged her compliment off. “I did what any adult would have done.”

She glared at him. Disbelief evident in her raised brow. “Whatever. Shall we go inside and have some cake?”

Cameron cringed. Outside was one thing but inside with the hyperactive kids and their happy-couple parents, he’d suffocate for sure. “Okay, but we’d better make it quick. I’ve got lots of work to do this weekend.”

Peppa nodded but inside she didn’t know what to think. She’d have to have been blind not to notice Cameron’s discomfort during her show but whenever she’d seen him looking over, it had been unmistakable lust she read in his eyes. She couldn’t work out if it was being here with his family that was causing him indigestion or being here with her. Now she knew about his wife, she guessed it had more to do with Kristen’s absence. He must find happy family gatherings difficult and she couldn’t help but feel sorry for his loss.

Either way, she’d had enough of these silly games. Despite enjoying every minute with his family, she felt like a total fraud and that didn’t feel good. These people cared about Cameron’s happiness and would be even more worried about him when they learned he’d ended things with her.

As much as she loved being with them—they were the big warm family that she dreamed of one day being a part of—she had to remember they weren’t hers. And they never would be. She’d seen a glimpse of another Cameron when he’d knelt down and dealt with that little girl. Warmth had flooded her watching them but he hadn’t wanted her to notice. He’d totally clammed up. Setting straight any notions she might be developing about him being a man she could get used to having around.

“You’re right,” she said, deciding she could miss cake for once if it helped get her out of this awkward situation and stopped the churning in her stomach. “I’ll just go say goodbye to Auntie Rose, Chelsea and the girls.”

Peppa expected Cameron to follow but he just mumbled something like “good idea” and then set to work typing something on his phone.

Her heart squeezed as she snuck in through the back sliding door and came upon the sight of twelve little girls squished around the table. This was her dream but her hand automatically fell to her stomach at the thought as she wondered if she’d ever get to fulfill it. Cameras flashed in every direction and happily married parents clinked glasses of pink champagne. Trying to annihilate her negativity, Peppa joined in the last lines of “Happy Birthday” and then sought out Chelsea and Auntie Rose.

“Thanks for having me today,” she said, fighting silly tears that threatened to choke her. “Cameron has things to do this afternoon, so we have to go now.”

“Always the workaholic,” tutted Auntie Rose. She laid a cold but soft hand on Peppa’s arm. “You’ll have to work on that. We’d really like to see him back at the house much, much more.”

“I’ll try,” Peppa managed despite the enormous lump in her throat.

“Good. Norm and I are going away for three weeks to visit my sister but you must come for Sunday lunch after that.” She scooped a mobile phone out of her handbag. “Here, put your number in.”

Damn!
This was really going too far. But if she refused, Cameron’s family would be suspicious and she owed it to him not to let that happen. Shakily, she took Rose’s phone and entered her own mobile number.

Then, finally, after more hugs all round, she fled the house to Cameron.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he said, stuffing his phone back into his pocket.

“Well, I don’t see you clamoring to spend time with your family,” she snapped.

“Sorry.” He had the good sense to hang his head. “They can be a little overwhelming.”

“Overwhelming?” Her teeth clenched together so tightly she was sure they’d all pop out. “They’re absolutely lovely but I feel like a total tool lying to them like this.”

“I’m sorry.” Cameron reached out to touch her. He cupped his palms against her cheeks and drew her face close to his. As much as she wanted to resist, her body couldn’t help melting at his touch. Despite what had just happened, despite knowing about his wife, Peppa couldn’t help wanting to lean closer to this incredible specimen of man.

She swallowed as she met his gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I’ll tell Rose the truth, soon.”

“Apology accepted,” she replied, all too conscious of his lips only millimeters from hers. What did he want from her? ’Cos she damn well knew what she wanted from him.

He kissed her then. Firm and hard and over all too quickly. “We’re still on for tonight, aren’t we? For our date?”

Her heart rate quickened. Was yes or no the right answer? She didn’t want to go out with him if he was only doing it out of some kind of duty. After the six months she’d had, she didn’t want to be anyone’s charity. But if…

She pulled back and somehow found the guts to ask him outright. “What kind of date are we talking about?”

He looked taken aback by her question, but he hid it quickly. “What kind of date do you want it to be?”

“Uh uh.” She waved her finger at him. “You’re not getting off the hook that easily.”

He sighed and rubbed the side of his jaw. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find you attractive but the whole reason for inviting you to my aunt’s house in the first place was because I don’t want to get involved with anyone. I just wanted to get them off my back.”

She rubbed her lips together, trying to ignore the little light that had lit within her at his mention of her attractiveness. At least they were on the same page there. The more and more time she spent with him, the more and more she realized she fancied the posh business pants off him. “So?”

“So, if you want this to be a proper I-kiss-you-at-the-end-and-see-where-it-leads type of date, then I’d like that, but you need to know from the start, I date for a good time, not a long time.”

A little voice inside her told her to end it now. Had she ever been the type to be able to separate sex from emotion? She ignored the voice and smiled. “Then we agree. I’m all for a good time. I’m not on the market for a long-term relationship either.” Lord knew her heart and body needed to heal before that was possible. “But I wouldn’t mind having some fun. And distraction.”

His smile stretched from ear-to-ear and the wicked glint in his eye was as attractive as a forbidden sweet. “Then we’re definitely on for tonight.”

“Two words. Absolutely fabulous.”

Peppa smiled at Izzy as she turned to face the mirror but she almost did a double-take when she took in the full-length image of herself. At least there were vague similarities. But she’d never before worn such a glamorous figure-hugging gown. The dress—on loan from Izzy’s cousin who was studying fashion design—had power like no piece of clothing Peppa had ever worn before. Quite aside from the way it lifted her breasts, transforming her cleavage from average to voluptuous with a mere tug of the zip, it made her
feel
sexy, as if her body was a tool she’d suddenly learned how to use.

She didn’t actually know if she could carry it off.

She swallowed and looked over her shoulder to where Izzy stood beaming. “Thanks for coming to the rescue.”

“No probs.” Izzy waved her hand in dismissal. “It’s not every day one’s best friend finally takes the plunge back into the dating game.”

“Thanks.” She glanced at the digital clock on her bedside table. “And I really, really appreciate your help but you’re going to have to go. He’ll be here in any second.”

“Go?” Izzy’s smile drooped. “You’re not going to let me stick around and meet him?”

Peppa’s heart beat triple time at the thought. She wasn’t ready to tell Izzy who “he” was just yet. “Definitely not.”

“Oh come on,” pleaded Izzy. “In lieu of your father, who’s supposed to give him the third degree and find out if he’s good enough for you?”

“No one. I’m big enough to look after myself.”

When Izzy didn’t make any move to go, Peppa glared and thrust her finger at the door. “Please.”

Sighing, Izzy stepped forward and pulled Peppa into a tight hug. “Enjoy yourself,” she whispered. “You are one hot tart and it’s time to remember that. Forget about Tim. And forget about…well, you know…”

An awkward silence filled the air. Why didn’t Izzy just say
Forget about your ex-fiancé, his shotgun wedding and the fact he’s currently honeymooning in Paris with his new, pregnant wife? Looking forward to the baby you couldn’t give him.

Izzy chose to fill the quiet with a totally ridiculous order. “Embrace your sexuality.”

“Stop!” Peppa, almost swallowing her own tongue, tugged out of the embrace, her cheeks heating at the thought. She wasn’t a hundred percent sure this was even a real date and she had no idea how the night would pan out. Still, she’d changed her sheets and fluffed her pillows just in case. “I’m nervous enough as it is.”

“Whatever. Have fun.” And with that directive, Izzy scooped up her fake designer handbag, kissed her friend on the cheek and flitted out the door, leaving Peppa to really start stressing.

She only had time to pace the length of her hallway twice before her intercom buzzed. She gulped and almost tripped on her favorite rug. She froze until Cameron buzzed again. At least, she assumed it was Cameron. She wouldn’t be in such a ridiculous state if it were anyone else.

“Hello,” she managed when she finally made it to the intercom.

“Good evening,” he drawled. “Shall I come up or shall you come down?”

“Me down. I’ll be ten seconds.” And seven of those seconds she used to slow her breathing and give herself a stern lecture. These never-before-nerves had to be down to the fact Cameron was her boss and anything more between them could get complicated. She didn’t want anything to affect her work. After losing Tim and their baby, it was all she had left. Work was her lifeline.

As she closed her front door and climbed the stairs to the ground level, she made a promise to herself to forget about politics, to let go and enjoy. She deserved it.

The moment she opened the door and saw Cameron leaning casually against a lamp post, her nerves morphed totally into excitement. She’d thought she was immune to men at the moment—unable to contemplate entering into another relationship—but it appeared Cameron was above most men. He was off the radar on the Richter scale of lust.

He was gorgeous. And he was hers…at least for one more night.

“Hi there.”

Cameron lifted his head to that melodic voice and the debate he’d been having with his conscience all afternoon ended. Flings were one thing. Flings with employees were quite another. Suddenly he didn’t care.

Almost skipping toward him was Penelope, in a shimmery silver halter-neck dress that clung to every single curve on her lusciously female body. The sight was enough to send any red-blooded male into a sensual spin. His gaze trailed down to indecently high and indecently sexy, matching silver stilettos and he almost swallowed his tongue. His temperature soared as he noticed the thigh-high slit in her gown. He shook himself and managed a satisfactory greeting.

“Evening, Penelope. You look sensational.”

Her cheeks flushed a sweet pink as she replied, “You too.”

“What—this old thing?” He gestured to his best evening suit.

They laughed and any tension that lingered in the air between them burst.

“You ready to go?”

“Sure am.” She smiled the kind of smile that could set kindle alight and tapped the evening bag that hung over her perfect shoulder. “Where are we going?”

He blinked, trying to recall the name of the restaurant where he’d booked a table. He’d been there on numerous times with important clients and it wasn’t like him to be bewildered by a woman but for the life of him he couldn’t remember the name of the place. He hoped to God his memory would kick in when he started the car. “It’s a surprise. Do you trust me?”

She cocked her head to one side, a heart-shaped pendant knocking against her breasts. “Should I?”

“Hell no,” he answered truthfully.

Her eyes twinkled at his blatantly honest response. “Good, then at least we both know where we stand.” She stepped toward him and offered her hand. “Lead the way.”

Like a princess with her prince, Peppa followed Cameron as he led her out of her building and down the pathway to his Lamborghini—already pristine perfect again. He drove to Darling Harbor and parked in a ridiculously expensive security car park before leading her to the renowned and trendy Wharf, Wine and Tapas bar. The ultra-chic venue was already abuzz with twenty-and-thirty somethings, all beginning their night with good food, wine and company. Many a female head turned as the maître d’ led her and Cameron to a table. Turned and practically drooled at Cameron’s commanding presence, sexy to the extreme in a dark suit and simple white cotton shirt.

She couldn’t blame them. Her heart was beating like a trapped butterfly in her chest and she practically had to glue her lips together to stop from drooling herself. It had been easier than she’d imagined forgetting he was her boss. But it was near impossible to forget that he was a guy and she was a girl.

They arrived at a table, quite cozy in the corner. Cameron ordered a cocktail for Peppa and a beer for himself. She hoped it wasn’t too potent—lord knew she needed to keep her wits about her. Once the waiter had arrived with menus and they’d perused them long enough to make a decision, Peppa pushed hers aside and looked at Cameron.

“So, an official date. What shall we talk about? Sex, politics, religion?”

Their drinks arrived and he took a long sip, staring at her in a rather disconcerting manner. She took a sip of her peach daiquiri and waited.

“I think talking about sex is overrated. It’s much better in action. Politics? As much as my friends berate me for it, I’ve never really paid much attention. And religion, it’s something else I can do without.”

He took a long sip of his drink while she laughed at his quick summary.

“Your turn,” he said, wiping a little beer foam from his upper lip.

“Or we could talk about something else?” she suggested, her cheeks burning at the mere mention of her thoughts on sex. Right now she had a one-track mind where that activity was concerned.

He smirked as if he could read her mind and liked what he saw. But he humored her nonetheless. “Good idea. Tell me, what does Penelope get up to when she’s not recording audio books for a living?”

She laughed, his easy-going tone putting her at ease.

“Do you find much time for pleasure?”

“Sure. If life’s not about having fun, it gets too depressing.” She hoped he didn’t notice the lump crawl down her throat. During the last six months with Tim they’d become obsessed with trying for a baby and fun had flown the coop. Now, she was trying to reclaim herself and the fun she missed in her life.

“Agreed.” He reached for his drink and took a long sip. She guessed he was thinking about his wife.

Hoping to deflect any negative thoughts, she continued, “I have a rooftop garden. I go to the beach. I do aerobics and, if my best friend Izzy can twist my arm, I occasionally join her at yoga.”

His eyes widened. “All things that have me picturing you semi-naked and in compromising positions. Not necessarily a good thing this early in the evening.”

Her insides quivered at his words. Coming from the mouths of some men such a comment may have sounded seedy. From him, it only worked to feed the fire burning deep inside her core. Not really sure how to answer, she added, “And I lead a kid’s choir which takes a fair chunk of my free time.”

“I see.” Cameron had almost forgotten about Penelope’s Pied Piper tendencies. In her effervescent, attractive presence it was hard to keep track of such things. “And do you do it for the kids or the singing?”

She answered immediately, “Both. Music makes me feel good. Did you know that singing stimulates natural pheromones to kick off in your body?”

“Really?” He smiled and knowingly, cheekily, let his gaze rove freely over her body. He couldn’t help himself. She really was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever met. “You learn something new every day.”

Her nipples pebbled visibly beneath her top, but to her credit she continued speaking. “But I enjoy singing the most when I’m with my choir. I love kids. There’s something so vibrant, so unhindered, so magical about them, don’t you think?”

“I guess that’s one way to look at it.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s the other way, Mr. McCormac?”

He raised a brow at her use of his surname. “They’re whiny, snotty, usually dirty, expert at throwing tantrums over absolutely nothing and they change normal, sane people into neurotic monsters.”

“You sound like you speak from experience.”

“I do. You forget I have nine nieces and another one on the way. My cousins were all normal folks with diverse interests and hobbies, now they alternate between waxing lyrical about how amazing their children are and complaining about not having any control over their sleep.”

“So you don’t want to have children?” she asked as if he’d confessed to a belief in UFOs.

“Me?” He shook his head. “No thank you. I like my sleep. I like being able to eat dinner in peace, go out when I please, where I please and I love being able to walk through my house without fearing I might trip on a toy and break my neck.”

She laughed. Loudly. Yet she still managed to do it in an attractive manner. “You do realize that is the most ludicrous argument I’ve ever heard for not wanting a family.”

He held his hands out in surrender and shrugged. “Just may be. But it’s my argument and I’m sticking to it.”

“Did your wife want them?” Her tone was suddenly serious.

Oh no!
His skin sweltered at her question. Talking hobbies was one thing but he didn’t talk about Kristen and their dreams for a family with anyone. Their shared desires were special, and private. He wanted to tell Penelope this but he didn’t want to ruin their evening, didn’t want it to turn cold and awkward.

Thankfully he was saved by the arrival of a platter full of tapas. He thanked the waitress and picked up a tiny squid, battered and fried. He held it toward her lips. “Do you like seafood?”

She grinned and leaned forward, licking her lips before she spoke. “I do when it’s served to me by a handsome man.”

Then she took a bite.

He couldn’t help staring as she chewed and swallowed. Watching someone eat wasn’t supposed to be arousing but there was just something about Penelope. Whatever she was doing—even when she was working with the children—he found himself fighting an intense urge to lose himself in her embrace. But he’d promised her a night out, a bit of food, maybe some dancing. And he wasn’t a man to go back on his word.

“Now, your turn.” She surveyed the table and finally selected a petite meatball, dipping it in some kind of red sauce before lifting it to his mouth. He took a bite of the meatball, licking the sauce but careful not to lick her fingers. One taste of that skin and dinner would be a waste of money.

Shuffling to try and make himself more comfortable when his trousers were growing tighter every second, he fed himself this time. As they continued to eat, somehow conversation flowed despite the sexual tension that almost visibly zapped between them. By the time the food was devoured, Cameron felt he knew Penelope better than almost every woman who’d graced his past. Strangely the thought didn’t leave him cold. And it didn’t lessen his desire either.

“So, how long have you worked at Lyrique?” he asked while they waited for the dessert menu.

“You’re the boss. Shouldn’t you know?” she quipped with an impish grin.

“Probably.” He shrugged. “But I make it my business not to know too much about my prettiest employees. I told you I don’t believe in mixing business with pleasure.”

“But you want to know about me?” Her gaze was intense, her tone wary with a tinge of excitement.

He looked her straight in the eye. “Yes, Penelope. I want to know about you.”

She picked up her glass, sloshed the liquid about and then downed the last few droplets of her wine in one gulp. “I’ve been at Lyrique just over two years. An ex-boyfriend of mine works there. When I was made redundant in my PR job, he suggested I try voice-work because I was a good singer. I never looked back.”

“From what I hear, we’re very lucky the PR world couldn’t see your worth.”

She lowered her lashes slightly and smiled. “Thanks.”

But he was curious. “So, what happened to the boyfriend? Not good enough for you.”