Sweet Surrender, Baby Surprise / The Secretary's Bossman Bargain. Kate Carlisle
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in her tracks. “Or that we would spend seventy-two hours making love over and over again, until we passed out?”
He moved even closer. Her curvaceous bottom pushed against his erection and she moaned.
“Do you remember?” he asked.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Thank God for room service or we might’ve starved.”
He laughed, then groaned as she pressed into him. He kissed the skin beneath her ear. She stretched her neck to give him more access and he ran his tongue along her jaw line. “Do you remember drinking champagne in that big tub?”
“I remember,” she whispered.
“God, you smell so good.” He turned her around and kissed her cheek, her chin, then covered her trembling lips with his. Her mouth parted and he delved inside, exploring her moist heat with the sweep of his tongue. She sighed and he plunged again.
The doorbell rang and they both jumped, then stared at each other in disbelief.
“This is crazy,” Julia muttered, and grabbed a bottle from the refrigerator shelf.
“Who the hell can that be?” Cameron groused and stalked to the door. He took a moment to compose himself before he opened the door.
“Hello, darling,” his mother said.
“Yoo-hoo! Hi, Cameron,” Beatrice said, waving behind her.
“We want to see the baby,” Marjorie said. “We’re not interrupting anything, are we?”
Cameron shook his head as the three women sashayed into the suite. They had been friends longer than Cameron had been alive. They still played cards together every Tuesday. Beatrice and Sally both volunteered at the hospital and Marjorie still worked as Duke Development’s Human Resources manager.
“Hello, ladies,” he said, and closed the door behind them.
“Are we too late?” Marjorie asked, glancing around the room.
Sally followed her gaze, then turned to Cameron. “We were hoping you’d let us babysit while you two kids ran out and grabbed some dinner.”
Julia poked her head out from behind the kitchen bar. “Oh, no, that’s not—”
“Sounds great,” Cameron said immediately. “Give us five minutes and we’ll be ready to go.”
“They railroaded us,” Julia grumbled as she sipped her chardonnay and nibbled on a carrot stick from the relish tray.
Cameron glanced around at the other tables in the elegant dining room of the Monarch Dunes. He was happy to see that there was a full house tonight, but the space still felt intimate. Stylized sconces along the sage-green walls cast dramatic shadows on the cathedral ceiling. Around the large room, screens and plants created a sense of privacy and exclusivity for the diners. The service was attentive yet discreet. And the food was excellent, naturally. The Duke brothers insisted on it.
“Do you really mind being out tonight?” he asked.
“Oh, no.” She glanced around, admiring the room and the view. “Of course not. Everything is lovely.”
“Good,” he said, resting back in his chair. “Take a sip of your wine and relax.”
She complied. “It’s wonderful.”
They were seated at a table along the glass wall overlooking the golf course and the cliffs and ocean beyond. It was a beautiful night, with a crescent moon and a million stars in the sky. The crystal glassware and silver flatware caught the candlelight and cast rainbow shards on the pristine white tablecloth.
He gazed at her through the glow. “I’m glad you like it.”
Sighing, she said, “I just don’t want Sally to think I expect her to babysit.”
“Get used to it,” Cameron said with a sardonic grin. “Now that she knows about Jake, you’ll have a hard time keeping her away.”
“I know,” Julia said, smiling. “She’s already threatened to pitch a tent on my front lawn so she can see him every day.”
Cameron raised one eyebrow. “I’ll talk to her if she gets pushy.”
“Oh, goodness no,” Julia said, and reached out to touch his hand in reassurance. “I think it’s wonderful. I don’t have any family so the thought of Jake having a grandmother to dote on him is like a dream come true.”
Cameron held on to her hand when she tried to slip it away from his. “Speaking of family, I did what you suggested and looked up the Parrish Trust.”
“So you know I’m not looking for a handout.”
“No, I guess you’re not,” he said. “But when I was looking at the trust information, I saw that your parents died when you were young. I’m so sorry.”
“Yes, they died in a plane crash. It was devastating. I was ten years old and had no other family to live with.”
“What happened to you?”
She smiled wistfully. “I had a nanny who’d been with me since I was born, so the judge allowed her to stay with me. My court-appointed guardians were two of my parents’ lawyers and they moved into our house.”
“You’re kidding. You had lawyers for guardians?”
Julia grimaced. “Yes. And it was just as businesslike an arrangement as you can imagine. You know, I finally read my parents’ will a few years ago and it made me feel like one of their properties. I know they loved me, so I blame it on the lawyers. It’s just how they used to write these things. The bottom line was, neither of my parents had siblings so there were no relatives who could take me in.”
“Be thankful you weren’t put into the foster care system.”
“Oh, I am,” she said in a rush. “My nanny, Rosemary, was great. She was like a mother to me.”
“You were lucky to have her.”
“Yes, I was.” Julia fortified herself with another sip of wine. “But two years later, she died suddenly. Cancer. It was overwhelming. I cried for weeks.”
“I’m sorry.” He squeezed her hand lightly.
She nodded. “The trustees hired another nanny but she didn’t do much. I was too old by then.”
“You were only twelve.”
“I always felt like a grown-up,” she said, smiling as she broke a breadstick in half and munched on it. “My parents traveled quite a lot for their foundation so I was used to spending time alone. It was okay. I was a self-sufficient kid.”
Cameron sipped his wine. “You were lonely.”
“Oh, please,” she said, waving the comment away. “Don’t make me sound like some poor little rich girl.”
“Why not?” Cameron’s tone was so compassionate that Julia felt her eyes sting. Good grief, would she burst into tears merely because someone showed kindness to her?
“Because no one cares,” she said. “Boo-hoo, all the money in the world but no one to love her. It’s such a cliché.”
“Clichés are true for a reason.” Cameron put down his wineglass. “Some things are more important than money, Julia.”
Did he mean love was more important? Julia wondered, but wasn’t about to ask him out loud. Instead she said, “I agree, but it’s easy for people with money to say it’s not important. So rather than annoy my friends, I keep it simple and don’t talk about myself.”
“Except to me,” Cameron said, and his lips twisted in a grin.
She frowned as though she’d just realized the same thing. “So it would seem.”
***