Perfectly Obsessed (23 page)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Drake

“Do you think Stan is okay this morning?” Cammie asks, from the passenger seat.

“He was snoring softly by the time I threw his arse in bed last night, he’s Lorna’s problem today.”

Stan is able to hold his drink, never letting himself get in a position where he can’t defend himself. Last night however, finding out he is going to be a dad and knowing I had his back, he went overboard with the celebrating and found himself unable to walk without my help.

“How long till we get there? My legs are numb.”

I glance at said legs stretched out and imagine them wrapped around my waist. We have been in the car for three hours, leaving first thing this morning on our way to Yorkshire. We are booked into a bed and breakfast that Claudia assured me Cammie would love. Quaint and quiet, she said. And just far enough we won’t be seen in Harrogate but still close enough to drive to tomorrow night for the part.

“Another couple of hours, we can stop for something to eat if you want?” I offer.

“It’s okay, let’s just get there and then I can stretch all I want,” she smiles, teasingly.

I push the pedal down and accelerate harder, the sooner we are there the sooner I can have her.

The drive becomes bland and Cammie’s silence becomes unbearable.

“Hey,” I say, my voice cracking from not talking in a while.

“What are you thinking? You’re very quiet.”

A part of me hopes she has changed her mind about accompanying me to the party tomorrow and the other half feels gutted. If I thought about it for long enough, I would’ve thought there would never be a day when I took her on a job. To have her in such danger, not from the job itself but from being caught and ending up in prison is something I couldn’t live with. I find the opposite though, having her with me makes my blood pump harder in exhilaration more than ever.

“She was scared to tell Stan about the baby, like, really scared,” she murmurs, turning in her seat to look at me.

“I should imagine she was, Stan’s never wanted a girlfriend let alone a kid,” I say.

“What do you think changed his mind? He was happy enough last night.”

“I haven’t got a clue, he must feel different with her,” I shrug, not liking talking about my friend.

“Would you be scared to tell me if you became pregnant?”

“No,” she smiles, not hesitating one bit.

I smile back and reach across for her hand. She holds it out and I hold tight, keeping one hand on the steering wheel.

“We haven’t spoken about kids in a while,” I say, watching her as much as I can between driving.

“Well, I don’t think we should be contemplating having children while we’re waiting to steal a diamond,” she laughs.

“Maybe not, what about the future? Do you see us having children?” I ask.

“One day, I suppose. What about you?”

“Of course, only the one. I don’t want to share you too much,” I grin, meaning every word.

Cammie is asleep by the time I pull into the little car park behind our bed and breakfast. We are booked in for two nights but we are only staying the one night. Lighting up a cigarette, I let Cammie sleep a while longer before we go in. No smoking in the rooms now is a pain my arse. All around us is trees and green. Miles and miles of hills and forests.

I can picture me and Cam out here, complete privacy and nothing but us. Flicking the cigarette out the window, I take the keys out of the ignition and run the back of my hand down Cammie’s cheek.

It’s not long before she stirs and her eyes flutter open.

“Hey, we’re here,” I smile.

Yawning, she readjusts herself and takes her seatbelt off.

“How long was I asleep?”

“Not long, are you ready to go in?”

She nods and opens her door. Collecting our bags from the boot, I follow her through the door and it is like we have walked into a ski lodge. Everywhere is dark, mahogany wood. Wood panelled walls, rustic wooden floors and a huge wooden desk at reception.

“Hi,” a chirpy, middle aged woman beams at us, “Can I help you?”

I put our bags on the floor and lean on the desk top.

“We have reservations under the name, Deacon Black.”

“Hi, welcome. Let me just get you checked in,” she says, tapping away at her computer.

“Ah, yes. Here’s your key.”

She unhooks a set from the wall and slides them over the desk top. “You’re in room three which is at the top of the stairs.”

“Thanks.”

Grabbing our bags, Cammie sticks by my side and we head to our room.

It is nothing like downstairs. The décor is light with creams and golds, heavy drapes surround the four poster bed and the windows.

What it looks like doesn’t bother me, but I care how much Cammie likes it. She immediately goes for the floor to ceiling window.

“Drake, come and look at this view.”

I drop our bags on the bed and do as she asks wrapping my arms around her from behind.

The view is something, a shimmering lake under the late afternoon grey skies with the vast green hills surrounding the water.

“It’s not like London, is it,” I laugh.

“No. It is so quiet round here, it’s a shame we can only stay for one night.”

“When all this is over, we can go where we want. If something like this is what you want, you can have it.”

The woman from reception couldn’t be any more helpful with suggestions for where to go for dinner. According to her, the gastro pub is her favourite place to eat with her husband and is only a fifteen-minute walk, if we are interested in taking a stroll.

The city boy in me snorted at the thought, walk for fifteen minutes? If I am not driving, I’m jumping in a taxi. But like always, making Cammie happy is what I live for now and she will like the stroll.

“I found us somewhere to eat,” I let her know when she comes out of the bathroom, freshly showered and looking sexy in her natural beautiful way.

“Good, I’m starved after you jumped me,” she giggles.

“Oh, I’ll check in with your hunger stats next time I want to get inside my girlfriend.”

Her giggle fills the room and I lay back on the bed watching her put her boots on.

“Are you coming or not?” she asks, eyeing me scrupulously, shrugging into her jacket.

“I’ve already come thanks, but I’m ready to leave if you are,” I smirk, loving that I can still make her blush.

Shaking her head, she throws the key at me and opens the door. Jumping off the bed and locking the door behind us, I take hold of her hand and take her on a stroll like no other.

“Are you always this happy before a job?” she asks, leaning into me as we walk the short distance to the pub.

“It’s not all due to the job. Normally, I do this alone or with one or two other men who are in the same line of business as me. When I’m getting geared up, it’s usually with a couple lines of coke and very loud music…”

“I didn’t know you’ve done drugs,” she cuts in, “How come I don’t know this?” she asks.

“I don’t know why you’re surprised, babe. I wasn’t exactly a choir boy when you met me,” I point out to her again.

“I know that, I mean, I don’t like not knowing everything about you.”

“You know everything I am now,” I assure her.

“So, you won’t be doing your normal ritual of coke tomorrow night?” she asks.

I laugh, not at her but at how I always thought I’d never change my ways.

“I don’t need a chemical enhanced high, tomorrow night I am going to have the most naturalists of highs when I step into that mansion of money hand in hand with you, who makes me rush every second of every day. I don’t need that shit anymore. I have you.”

Every word is the truth.

“I think that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me,” she laughs.

I frown, surely that can’t be right? Comparing her to coke isn’t the most romantic notion. Okay, I’ll have to remedy that.

Dinner is quiet with locals keeping an eye on the outsiders. Neither of us drink much, both knowing tomorrow we need to be clear headed and ready for anything. Over the last month I have been filling Cammie in on what is to be expected from start to finish. I made her recite what to do in the event that we are caught at the scene, if we are caught after we flee said scene and what to expect when we exchange the diamond for cold, hard cash.

The woman back at the bed and breakfast recommendation has been what we both needed, a relaxed, quiet and intimate evening. No one stopping by our table to chit chat like back home and I haven’t felt the need to have my guard constantly up.

There is definitely something to be said about being in the country.

“Thank you for tonight, it has been perfect.”

Is the first thing I hear from Cammie as we start walking back to the bed and breakfast and she isn’t wrong.

“This is only the beginning, babe. After tomorrow, this will all become normal.”

Her cackle into the night startles me and I look down at her.

“What’s so funny?” I demand.

“You are if you think we’ll ever have normal. There is absolutely nothing normal about you and that’s the way I love it.”

“Oh, that’s alright then.”

We fall into a silence, both content to just be with one another under a black blanket dotted with stars. The calm before the storm. The calm being now and the storm being the rush of my getting my hands on a diamond I have every intention of taking from someone who paid a great deal for it and is moronically stupid enough to leave on show without protection. The fool deserves it really.

Whether a jewel or your woman, both should be protected by all costs. Both I take seriously and both this Lord doesn’t. He doesn’t know it yet, but he is set to lose both very soon.

Cammie stops suddenly and I carry on walking before I notice she isn’t by my side.

“What is it?” I ask, following her gaze to the sky.

“There are so many stars out here, we don’t get to see them really in London,” she says, in amazement.

I backtrack three steps and grip her jacket, forcing her closer to me.

“You want to look at the stars?” I ask her, looking left and right to make sure no one else is around.

“Just for a moment.”

Faster than she can track, I dip and throw her over my shoulder.

“Drake, I can’t see the stars if I’m looking at your arse,” she hisses.

“Hold up, babe. I’m getting you a better view.”

Off to the side of the road is a gate to a field full of God knows what but I manage to find a bare patch free from crops or whatever and gently slide Cammie back to her feet. Shrugging my leather jacket off I lay it on the ground and we both make ourselves as comfortable as we can.

“This is better,” she sighs, “But you’re going to freeze without your jacket on.”

“Right this minute, I can’t feel anything,” I murmur, leaning up on one elbow.

She moves her head fractionally to see what I’m doing. This moment couldn’t be any better for what I one day had planned. Her hands press against my arm as I stroke her hair away from her face.

“I told you I would marry you one day and I meant every word. I want that day to be sooner rather than later. You are my life and I want every part of you connected to me. You own me, Camila Darcy, my mind, my body and my soul, if I have one, I’m all yours. I am perfectly obsessed with you and I want you to marry me and I promise I will love you like no other man could till the day I die. I’ve never believed in the afterlife but I’m beginning to believe I’ll love you even in death.”

A stray tear falls from her eye and I use my thumb to wipe it away. I lean down and capture her mouth before she answers, I want to savour this moment of romantic bliss I believe I have delivered, for her and only her. A proposal under the stars.

“Marry me,” I breathe, pulling away from her soft, warm lips.

“Yes,” she pants.

Straightening my leg out so I can reach into my jean pocket, I produce a ring fit for a fucking queen. A Tiffany pear-shaped diamond with surrounding bead-set diamonds. It’s perfect, like its new owner.

She offers me her left hand and I proudly put my first ring on her slender finger.

“Mrs Deveroux,” I whisper.

“I like the sound of that, although, if you call me Camila after we’re married, I will divorce you,” she threatens.

A short, sharp bout of laughter echoes around the field and I grab her chin, stopping her from looking anywhere but at me.

“Don’t joke about that shit, I don’t like thinking us not being together,” I warn her.

“Who said I was joking. Don’t call me Camila and we’ll live happily ever after,” she warns me, just as adamantly.

“I can deal with that.”

“Now that’s cleared up, get me back to the warm room and we can celebrate how we do best.”