Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
Hand in hand they walked silently back to the house. Ryan changed into a pair of brown knee length shorts and a faded t-shirt that had something printed on the front which Camille couldn’t quite work out.
He seemed a little ashamed of his weather worn clothes, but she adored the look. The beach vibe they gave off was genuine. His clothes had been lived in. They hadn’t just been plucked off the rack of some overpriced surf themed store.
They remained in agreeable silence all through lunch, both lost in their own thoughts. The late delivery had been a tray of freshly made sandwiches along with a small box of sliced fruit from one of the local suppliers on the island.
After cleaning up from their meal, they went about setting up their workstations. Ryan cleared the large antique dining table of its fancy flowers and table cloth, and with a bow and flourish presented it to Camille as her workspace. He established a spot for himself at one end of the long kitchen counter.
The dressmakers dummy held pride of place in front of the windows which overlooked the rear garden.
They’d agreed on something happening between them, but now it seemed like neither of them knew what to do. No one was prepared to make the first move. All afternoon while Camille put thoughts down on paper and did some rough design sketches, Ryan had continued tapping away on his laptop.
In between attempting to work, she fired off messages to Sophie.
About the mistake you said I shouldn’t make.
Yes.
I think I’m about to make it.
Do you want me to call and talk you out of it?
No.
He wants me too.
Ok. Be careful.
…
Three dots appeared again on the screen, then disappeared. Then reappeared. Camille wasn’t sure if Sophie was typing a long message or writing and then deleting her messages.
When the message finally popped up, she sat and stared at it for a long time before answering.
Final question.
Is this just sex?
It’s complicated
Cami, be careful with your heart
She could understand Sophie’s reasons for wanting her to protect herself. It had taken her sister a long time to get over her last long term boyfriend, Patrice. Her sister had been crushed when she’d discovered the truth about Patrice’s philandering ways. Of his taste for secret one night stands with other women.
The situation was further complicated by the fact that Patrice still worked for their father.
I think Ryan is a good guy.
Camille left it at that. She didn’t want to get into a long discussion about the perils of loving someone and then finding out they were a cheating pig.
She snuck a glance at Ryan, and smiled. He was deep in thought. She could tell because whenever he was concentrating, he had a tendency to make little humming noises. For some reason she found them incredibly sexy.
Her cell phone pinged again.
You deserve to find a good one.
That would be nice.
Talk soon. Must work
Je t'aime
I love too
Camille turned off her phone and went back to work. As a heavy silence settled over the room, she found it hard to focus on her design. She managed to get knock out a rough sketch of a new dress, but her heart wasn’t really in it.
Concentrating on work while Ryan sat a few feet away was almost impossible. At five o’clock she set down her pencil, and closed her sketch book.
“What are you working on?” she asked.
Ryan’s fingers ceased their merry dance on the keyboard, and he glanced over his shoulder at her. “Putting a schedule together for the runway show. Who needs to be where and at what time. Come and take a look.”
Earlier in the week she’d mentioned they would need to create a timetable, to manage their workload in the weeks before fashion week. Ryan in his super organized way, had taken that suggestion to heart.
Camille rose from the dining table and came to where Ryan sat working on his laptop at the kitchen counter. That first day when she’d panicked over Hope abandoning her was now a distant memory. Fate had decreed she needed more than Hope in her life. She needed Ryan.
He pointed at the workflow and planning app. “I’ve broken the weeks and the days up. You can see the work you will have to complete. The stuff I will need to cover. I have also listed other people’s services we might need, such as a graphic designer, and a photographer. As you come up with your design concept for the actual show, I can add those pieces in, what we need to order, and also manage their costings.”
Her creative soul might have winced at the structure and order which sat on the computer screen, but her stressed out mind took it all in. The actual runway show was for a maximum of thirty minutes. Before that they had to get two hundred guests seated and settled, so that the show could start on time.
Seeing her mental to-do-list laid out so neatly in a day and date format gave Camille a welcomed sense of calm and peace.
“You really do have a logical mind, Ryan.”
“That’s because I don’t have a creative bone in my body,” he snorted.
As she leaned in close, her breasts brushed against his arm. They were hidden beneath several layers of dress and bra, but the light sensation of touching him had Camille’s nipples instantly hardening to pebbles.
Ryan shifted in his chair, breaking the contact. It was only then that Camille realized what she’d done. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to crowd you like that,” she said.
He had kept his distance all afternoon. Perhaps he was having second thoughts about them. And her being so close was making him feel uncomfortable.
Camille took a step back, away from the chair, and pointed at the laptop’s screen. “It’s probably a good time to get in touch with some of the modelling agencies, and check about booking models for the runway show. I know a few girls who I think would work well with my clothes. Once they know the sort of models I want, they will be able to fill the rest of the roster.”
“Ok. I’ll get onto that later this evening, or even better first thing tomorrow,” he said, and closed the laptop.
Camille’s heart began to race as Ryan rose from his seat and moved toward her. His six foot four frame towered over her barely five feet six, but she wasn’t intimidated. Instead, she drank in every inch of this enticing male.
Please let him touch me.
“Tell me Camille, how much work have you been able to get done this afternoon? I mean with all that licking of lips and silent undressing of me, I doubt it’s been all that much.”
She had been staring at him. Sneaking a thousand stolen glances. But the only way he could have known she was doing that was if he’d been doing the same. Had been looking at her.
A shy smile crept to her lips. He was gorgeous. And clever. And kind.
I am in so much trouble.
His fingers tucked a wayward lock of hair behind her ear, and he bent and whispered, “It’s a good thing you weren’t pinning muslin to the dressmakers model, because if you had, I’m sure you’d have pricked yourself many times.”
The way he spoke, it was the sort of gentle tease that promised long nights of them sharing secrets, knowing that the other would keep those confidences safe.
“I’m an expert tailor. It’s rare for me to catch myself with a pin.” She settled her hand on his faded t-shirt. “This looks better on you than my brother’s designer shirt did. I think it’s more Ryan.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Really? How so?”
There was an edge in his voice, and she caught the meaning behind his question. Did she think he wasn’t good enough for finely made clothes? If that was his way of thinking he couldn’t have been more wrong.
“You are the kind of man who could wear anything and look good. But this sort of casual American t-shirt speaks of a genuine man. A man who is comfortable in his skin.” She hoped he understood what she was trying to say.
Ryan’s lips touched her forehead, and he murmured, “And would you like to touch the skin under my ratty old shirt just to be sure?”
“Tu ne sais pas à quel point je te veux,” she replied slipping back into her native French. Sometimes the English language couldn’t express the right words. Only the language of love would do. And for this moment, it was all she could say to express her desire for him.
He cupped a hand under her chin and lifted her face to his, their lips barely touching. A shiver went down her spine at the promise of a sweet, slow seduction.
“I might not have understood a single word of what you just said, but I’ll take that as a yes.” His arm slipped about her waist, and he pulled her hard against him. Camille let out a sigh of delight as she felt the bulge of his hard-on against her abdomen. They were in this together, and it was finally going to happen.
She’d kill anyone who dared to knock on the front door.
“I wonder if Paul the housekeeper had figured we might end up like this, or do you think he just assumed we were together?” she asked.
“I don’t know, but I plan on leaving him a sizeable tip when we vacate.”
Camille laughed at his joke. Her laugh turned into a giggle as he bent and, tucking his arms under her knees, scooped her up in one easy, fluid move. Thank god for big strong, all American males.
“Last chance to say no to me carrying you upstairs, Ms. Royal.”
“I have a feeling I will never be able to say no to you Mister Collins.”