5. Cameron
Cameron
Cam was feeling restless. Elizabeth had been gone a few minutes. If she was smart, she’d be letting her friend know that some randy American wanted to take her back to his hotel room and ravish her so thoroughly she wouldn’t be able to walk.
And her friend should say, ‘Don’t you dare! He could be a killer!’ And Elizabeth would come back now and make some excuse, and, to be honest, if she was a friend of his, then he’d probably have said the same thing. He was a man, he knew what most of his peers were like and it wasn’t pretty.
How could she really know that his motives were pure?
His conscience pricked. Well, purely wicked and X-rated.
He’d never wanted a woman so badly. That kiss ...
he hadn’t been able to help himself. She’d been looking at him with those gorgeous, huge brown eyes as if he was a big bad wolf and she really wanted him to eat her up.
He wanted to. More than anything. So he’d given in to temptation just to taste her.
And his body was still pulsating with need.
She’d been sweet and tart all at once, her mouth soft and willing under his.
She’d made adorable little noises in the back of her throat and he’d felt her whole body tensing.
Had she been close to orgasm? The thought made his erection even harder.
He gritted his jaw and shifted. She was so responsive.
He’d ached to put his hand on her breast and test its lush weight. Flick open a couple more buttons on her dress so he could see that majestic cleavage.
Somehow he’d managed to pull back or he’d have had her horizontal along this banquette making love to her right now. They had to take it somewhere more private.
He saw something out of the corner of his eye and before he saw her properly, he smelled her scent. It was musky and spicy, and flowery. An intriguing mix of innocence and sophistication. Like her. Blushing but oozing sex-appeal at the same time.
She appeared at his side. He looked up at her and drank her in.
She was tall. She did remind him of some warrior queen.
He could tell she was conscious of her height and frame, but she shouldn’t be.
She curved in and out in all the right places, a belt cinching in her waist. Long, shapely legs encased in sheer black tights.
And she wore it well, in her silk shirt–dress, in spite of the vulnerability he sensed.
He stood and saw how her eyes widened as they travelled up. He and Elizabeth matched up pretty well. ‘Did you make a decision?’
She nodded. He saw her throat work as she swallowed and he almost groaned at the thought of seeing that action again, but after she’d taken him into her-
‘Yes.’ Her voice was a little husky. ‘Yes, I’ll come with you.’
Exhilaration and adrenalin coursed through his veins. He hadn’t been sure which way she would go. And he wouldn’t have pressured her.
He reached for her jacket along the back of the seat and held it out. She turned around and he settled it on her shoulders, pulling her hair out from underneath. He had to curb an urge to bury his hands and nose in her hair. He was losing it.
He came to her side and put out a hand. ‘Shall we?’
She held her clutch bag to her chest and he noticed that she’d done up a couple of the buttons on her dress.
Naughty girl. She walked out of the bar ahead of him while he held open the door.
He noticed other men doing double takes when they took in her statuesque height and those curves.
Cam felt like growling and scowling at them.
She was his. And this wasn’t usual for him, to feel possessive, especially not of a woman he hadn’t even slept with yet.
But he did … – Something about her had already got to him under the surface level, but he assured himself it was just lust. Pure and simple.
In another uncharacteristic but totally instinctive move, he took her hand in his as they headed into Grafton Street.
He was out of his usual routine here. What happened in Dublin stayed in Dublin.