Stolen Feelings. Margaret Mayo

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Stolen Feelings - Margaret  Mayo


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woman. She turned to Ian at her other side, and he smiled warmly and touched her hand. ‘All right?’ he asked quietly.

      She nodded, and tried to concentrate on her meal, but it was difficult with Cameron sitting so near. She was relieved when it was all over, when she was able to help Raul clear away and wash up.

      By this time it was dark, no long twilight like in England, but a rapid descent of the sun and then total darkness. It was still only a little after seven.

      Solar lamps, that had been sitting in the sun all day gathering energy, were switched on and the whole camp looked festive. The men sat around in groups talking and Julie found herself alone with Ian and Cameron. It had been a long day, though, and she felt tired, and after an hour listening to the two men talk shop, trying to ignore the fact that her body was responding to Cameron’s in a way that made her feel uncomfortable, she yawned and stretched, and declared that she was going to bed.

      Ian dutifully gave her a kiss on the cheek. ‘You poor darling, you’ve had a tiring day. I’ll try not to wake you when I turn in.’

      She smiled. ‘Goodnight, Ian.’ And then she turned to Cameron and bade him goodnight too.

      Their eyes met and held briefly. ‘Goodnight, Julie.’

      But she did not sleep, she was far too aware of this man who had made such an impact on her life in such a short space of time. She could only be thankful that there were no reciprocal feelings; that would have been hell. There was no way then that she could have gone on with this charade.

      When Ian came to bed a couple of hours later she pretended to be asleep. Almost within minutes his breathing deepened; he was happy here, there was absolutely nothing on his conscience to keep him awake.

      Julie tossed and turned and in the end decided to get some fresh air. It was noticeably cooler now and she pulled a cardigan about her shoulders. There were no lights, every tent was in darkness; she felt quite safe.

      She walked down to the shore and stood listening to the lap of the waves, watching the pattern of reflections from a full, silvery moon, totally unprepared when a harsh voice came out of the darkness.

      ‘Mrs Drummond, what the hell do you think you are doing?’

       CHAPTER THREE

      JULIE had heard no movement behind her; Cameron had approached with all the stealth of a tiger. She swung around, her heart hammering unsteadily in her breast. ‘I’m not doing anything.’

      ‘It looks to me as though you’re asking for trouble,’ he growled.

      She frowned. ‘What do you mean?’ He was still wearing the same shirt and trousers as earlier, though whether he had pulled them on again when he saw her, or whether he had not yet gone to bed, Julie had no idea. She did not even know what time it was.

      Cameron’s eyes glittered. ‘I’m sure you’re not unaware that the moon shining on you renders your nightdress virtually transparent. And that knitted thing doesn’t hide much.’

      Julie’s heart went into panic. How long had he stood watching her before making his presence known? And how much could he see? ‘I couldn’t sleep,’ she retorted defensively, clutching the cardigan tightly around her throat as if by so doing it gave her some form of protection.

      ‘It cannot have escaped your notice that most of the tents are open-sided. If any of the men are awake they will not have failed to see you out here.’

      And he thought she was doing it deliberately! Her chin came up. ‘Then they will not have failed to see that you followed me. What do you think they will make of that?’ And why was his opinion of her so very, very low?

      The chiselled planes of his face grew harder and more angular; his mouth tightened. ‘If they have assessed the situation correctly they will know I have come to warn you.’ His voice was dangerously low, a threatening growl that shivered across Julie’s cruelly exposed nerve-endings.

      She held the neck of her cardigan with both hands, her arms pressed close to her sides,

      ‘You have been here less than twelve hours, Mrs Drummond,’ he went on, ‘and already you are becoming a nuisance.’

      His constant formality unnerved her. Despite Ian’s confidence, she felt sure Cameron suspected all was not as it should be. He watched them too closely, too often, and always there was calculation in his eyes. Why he should be suspicious, she did not know, but she was sure he was.

      He moved so that his back was to the moon instead of hers, and she imagined it was to see her face more clearly, put her at an even bigger disadvantage.

      She gave a tiny laugh, recalling Ian’s plea that she try to get on with his boss. ‘Why is it that I cannot seem to do anything right?’

      Brows lifted. ‘Surely it’s a matter of basic intelligence?’

      ‘Haven’t you ever had women working here before?’

      He inclined his head. ‘Yes, we’ve had female scientists.’

      ‘And were you as much on their backs as you are mine?’

      His mouth twisted. ‘It wasn’t necessary. For one thing they did not flaunt themselves.’

      ‘Flaunt?’ echoed Julie, all her good intentions fading. ‘Is that what you think I’m doing? Heavens, Mr Storm, you’re seeing things that are not there.’

      ‘I don’t think so,’ he answered. ‘No woman can be as subliminally unaware of what she is doing as you’re suggesting.’

      Julie shook her head violently, her hair, which she had taken out of its pins when she went to bed, falling forward over her face. ‘What’s the point in trying to defend myself,’ she asked crossly, ‘when you’ll believe only what you want to believe? I’m going back to bed.’

      But before she had even turned he reached out, and to her utter amazement began stroking back the hair from her face. ‘Your hair looks blue in the moonlight,’ he muttered. ‘It has the gloss of a raven’s wing.’

      So had his, she thought. It was odd that her hair should be the same colour as Cameron’s, whereas her twin’s was so much lighter. He seemed mesmerised by it, and when his fingers accidentally brushed her cheek Julie felt as though a thousand volts of electricity had shot through her.

      At exactly the same instant Cameron withdrew, as though he had felt her reaction—or as though he had been testing her! Was this what it was all about? Was this why he had joined her, why he had touched her? Was he checking her loyalty to Ian?

      Julie’s heart thudded fit to burst and she looked into his eyes with something approaching panic, praying with all her heart that he hadn’t sensed her reaction. It seemed forever that they held each other’s gaze, even though it could have been for no more than a fraction of a second. Then with a cry like a startled bird Julie raced back to her tent.

      ‘Julie!’ Cameron’s low voice came to her in the velvety softness of the night, but she ignored it. Whatever he had to say could only be to her shame, to her detriment. She had been in very grave danger of giving herself away, of putting Ian’s job at risk.

      Upon reaching the tent, she dived inside and threw herself down on the bed. Her heart pounded so loudly that it echoed in her ears, her pulses raced and every limb trembled. And all because of one man! All because Cameron Storm had touched her! It didn’t bear thinking about.

      ‘Where have you been?’ Ian’s gruff, sleepy voice startled her.

      ‘Did I wake you? I’m sorry. I—I couldn’t sleep so I went for a walk.’ She tried desperately to control her breathing.

      ‘Oh.’ He seemed satisfied, turned over, and was asleep again within seconds.

      It seemed


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