Chapter 9
CAMERON
He was going crazy. Cameron paced back and forth in his kitchen as he tried not to picture Izzi sitting naked in his bath.
They’d barely spoken on the drive back to his house.
She’d been too focused on sucking her sore finger and he’d been too worried about driving off the goddamn road.
His whole body was hard, and he felt like he was about to explode.
He paced the kitchen again, pausing momentarily to take a sip from the mug of hot chocolate she’d served him from her flask before he’d persuaded her to use his bathroom.
It was yet another extravagant space that Sophie had designed, complete with a large clawfoot tub – big enough for two – grey slate tiles, a separate shower stall and marble surfaces that his grandma had cluttered with products from the beauty salon.
For guests, she’d told him, and he wondered if she’d been thinking about someone like Izzi using them.
He didn’t want to imagine which of the scents Izzi had chosen to bathe in; tried not to think about her stripped down, her clothes scattered across the floor as she sunk into the warm water, while bubbles hid the tempting peaks and curves of her body.
Shit.
He gritted his hands into tight fists, angry with himself.
What was happening to him? He’d been distracted since he’d touched her when they’d first arrived at the castle, had almost combusted when she’d been sucking her finger.
Nobody had ever affected him like this. And she was practically a stranger – one he knew almost nothing about.
This was what you got when you hid yourself away for months at a time and refused to date.
This was what you got when the only thing you kissed was your grandma’s cheek.
He needed to get back out there – and soon.
He went to sink into one of the velvet stools at the breakfast bar and tugged out his mobile, forcing himself to check through his work messages, desperate to distract himself, and saw he’d received a message from Scott.
It’s happened again. Another girl just turned up at the hotel expecting an interview. What the hell’s going on? I’m going to want to talk at the pub quiz tomorrow, so you’d better be there. I’ll need a beer, maybe even three…
Cameron quickly replied he’d definitely be there. After today, he knew he’d need a couple of drinks too. If he was lucky, there might be someone in the pub to distract him from Izzi. To help him lose himself for a few hours.
He heard the quiet pad of footsteps in the hallway and turned, feeling his insides jolt when he saw her, pink-cheeked, standing in the doorway wearing his fleecy terracotta dressing gown with her hair wrapped in a matching thick towel. He had to fight the desire to walk up and wrap her in his arms.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she murmured as she glanced down at herself. ‘I was in such a hurry to get into the bath, I totally forgot to get a change of clothes from my cabin. I didn’t want to put my dirty stuff back on. I hope you don’t mind me borrowing—’
‘It’s fine,’ he interrupted, more sharply than he’d intended. ‘I mean, I get it. I wouldn’t want to put your clothes back on either. Not that I’d fit in them.’
He cleared his throat. He was usually more articulate than this, able to hold an actual conversation.
‘You can use my washing machine if you like – I mean, if you want to… Not that I mind you wearing my dressing gown. At least for now. But you can’t keep it.
’ He shook his head. Could he make things any more awkward?
‘The washing machine’s a Miele – a good one – so you need to promise not to combust when you see it.
’ He tried to lighten things up with a joke.
She gave him a grateful smile. ‘You’ll be pleased to know my obsession with kitchen appliances goes no further than coffee machines and ovens,’ she said.
‘Speaking of ovens, I was going to make you dinner.’ She frowned as she glanced around.
‘Only I got distracted and haven’t been to the shop.
’ She winced. ‘It might be too late now.’
‘I’ve got some stuff in,’ he admitted, feeling embarrassed. ‘It’s not really fair that you keep buying all the food…’ He knew she’d paid for all their meals so far and was starting to feel guilty. It would be ironic if it turned out to be him taking advantage of her. ‘Do you want a glass of wine?’
He didn’t wait for her to answer; instead, he opened his junk drawer, where he kept paperwork he had to deal with and other bits and pieces, including the corkscrew.
He took it out and opened a bottle of red, then poured two glasses.
When he turned, he saw Izzi take a step into the kitchen, her bare feet padding on the heated floor.
She’d painted her toenails – last time Cameron had seen them they’d been nude.
They were a deep, rich autumnal mahogany now and he had no idea why that turned him on.
He poured the wine and placed her glass on the counter before chucking the corkscrew back in the drawer. ‘I hope you like red,’ he said, nodding at the glass. ‘I bought beef, but I hadn’t got as far as deciding what to cook.’
She raised a delicate eyebrow. ‘Anything you want to try specifically?’
He had to stop himself from answering, You.
Instead, he swallowed away the lump in his throat.
‘Anything you feel like making. I expect to help with the chopping, but let’s take a look at that hand first.’ His voice was hoarse.
He got up from the stool and indicated she should take it.
Watched as she sank into the same seat and sighed.
She wriggled her slim fingers. ‘I tried to stay in the bath for as long as I could. Most of the splinters have washed away, but there are still a few left.’ Her forehead pinched. ‘I could probably get them out on my own—’
‘Why would you?’ he snapped and immediately regretted it. He was supposed to be making things easier between them, but he was so tightly wound. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’d rather do it, I feel responsible.’
‘It wasn’t your fault,’ she whispered, jerking her chin before she leaned closer. Her cheeks had deepened to a peachy hue, and he followed the flush down her neck to the v of his dressing gown.
She was still a little damp from the bath, and Cameron watched a tiny pebble of water slide down her neck and had a sudden unexpected urge to press his mouth to it. To press his tongue against her skin. He shuddered.
‘Are you okay?’ Izzi asked, frowning, and Cameron realised he’d been staring.
‘All good – tickety-boo in fact.’ Where the hell had that come from? He wasn’t in a Mary Poppins movie. His thoughts at the moment ran more to an 18 rating than a PG.
Izzi chuckled. ‘That’s what Maud says.’ She grinned, her eyes sparkling, clearly unaware of the effect she was having on him. Of how his whole body was now burning, making him feel so revved up he could probably run a three-minute mile, twice.
Cameron abruptly turned away and opened one of the larger cupboards. ‘I’ve got a first aid kit – there are tweezers and some antiseptic.’ He got it down and put it on the breakfast bar.
‘I’ve just had a bath. I was in there for ages, so I’m sure it’s clean,’ she said, sounding amused as she shifted closer to the edge of the barstool, giving him a flash of slim, bare leg. Her skin was so smooth and pink. He glanced up. She was staring at him, those amber eyes serious and tempting.
‘I— Well –’ He pressed his lips together. ‘– you don’t want to get an infection,’ he said roughly, digging through the kit until he found the tiny tweezers. ‘Show me.’ He took a step closer, inhaling caramel, and couldn’t stop the low hum he made in his throat.
‘Are you okay?’ she asked, sounding genuinely concerned. He was starting to wonder if she was always like this: worried about people’s feelings, always trying to smooth out ripples, to put things right even when she’d done nothing wrong.
‘Yes.’ He swallowed. ‘You smell good.’ Did he just say that out loud?
She flushed. ‘I used the caramel apple bubble bath. You’ve got a great selection there.’
‘My gran,’ he explained, lifting a shoulder as he took in another breath. Izzi smelled delicious – like one of her cakes. Would she be just as sweet, and would he ever find out?
‘So Maud buys bath products for you in case you what, have— female guests? Does that happen often?’ The way Izzi asked – her voice toneless but coloured with a large helping of suspicion – made Cameron wonder if she was jealous.
Was she jealous?
‘I think… I’ve never thought about it,’ he said truthfully. ‘Maybe she just likes supporting local businesses.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Izzi’s cheeks exploded with colour. ‘It’s none of my business.’ She looked down at her hand and turned it over, offered it to him before he could say more.
‘So.’ Cameron could see three large splinters: two on Izzi’s fingers and one in the curve of her palm.
‘This might hurt again,’ he warned as he stepped closer and cradled her hand in his, ignoring the spark that went through him.
Izzi trembled almost imperceptibly, but he was suddenly sure.
Sure this inconvenient attraction was reciprocated.
What he wasn’t clear on was what he was going to do about it.
‘That’s okay,’ she whispered, leaning closer. He had to avert his eyes because his dressing gown had opened at the top, offering him a tempting view of creamy skin.
‘Um.’ Dear God, this was torture. How had he got himself into this mess?
He breathed deeply, still clutching her warm hand, and carefully pricked at it with the tweezers over and over until he finally managed to catch the end of a splinter.
Then he tugged the first one out while Izzi cursed under her breath.
He could see why, her skin looked sore. ‘I’m sorry.
Do you want to take a break before I do the others? ’ he asked sympathetically.
‘I’d prefer a drink,’ she said. ‘Or for it not to hurt. Ignore me…’ She rolled her eyes. ‘I’m being a baby. It’s fine.’