What's A Housekeeper To Do? / Tipping the Waitress with Diamonds. Nina Harrington
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um, how would your heroine behave at this point of the evening?’ They’d finished the entrées; Lally sipped her water and told herself she had to do better than this.
‘Here we are.’ A waiter deftly reordered their table setting and offered Cam a choice of wines to go with their main course. Cam had chosen flame-grilled steak; Lally, Barramundi fillets with a creamy herbed-lemon dressing.
‘I’d like Chardonnay, please.’ Lally felt pleased that her voice sounded normal. They’d opted out of the wine to start with, and she’d appreciated that too.
Cameron examined the labels of the wines the waiter had brought and approved a Chardonnay for Lally and a red for himself. The waiter poured and left, and they started their meals.
Cam answered her question then. ‘The heroine would be doing her best to distract the hero and keep his mind jumping so he doesn’t have time to wonder what she’s up to.’ He glanced at his plate and then hers. ‘For us, for now, I’d like descriptions of the food so I can use the dishes in the book, I think. I can see the characters eating these meals.’
‘Oh—okay. The fish is moist and flaky; the sauce is tart enough to balance the creaminess.’ Lally did her best to describe the combination of textures and tastes.
She could see Cam making mental notes, and she tried to feel that they’d left behind their consciousness of each other, but it felt as though it still simmered beneath the surface.
There had to be some way to stop that simmering. It was inappropriate for her to simmer in this setting.
And if your boss is simmering?
Well, Lally didn’t know—and what were they anyway, a matching set of human saucepans?
‘Do you think you’ll take on other property-development projects in Adelaide?’ Yes, that was the way to express an everyday, businesslike interest and nothing more—ask a question that made her sound as though she wanted to be assured he wouldn’t be leaving after a few short weeks!
‘Tell me about your family. You mentioned art and restaurants.’
Cam spoke at the same time. They both stopped. He brushed his hand over the back of his neck.
If Lally got started on family, they would still be here when the place closed for the night. And she did want to know what his future plans might be, even if that made her nosy.
‘I may take on further projects here.’ Cam didn’t seem to make too much of her question. He started to talk about other buildings in various parts of Adelaide. ‘There’s a block of apartments, dilapidated but in an area that I know would resell really well. I put an offer in on those earlier today.’
As though there was nothing exciting or fascinating about buying up another building; perhaps to him there wasn’t. He bought and sold in dollar figures she could only dream about. She found his ability to write stories fascinating, too, his imagination and his interest in hands-on research. The dimple in his chin, the groove on his forehead…
Are not fascinating, Lally!
All right, fine; as a person, Cameron Travers was interesting—complex, busy, bordering on workaholic. And an insomniac. And, for whatever reason, Lally found all of this a little too intriguing for her own calm and controlled state of mind.
They made their way through the remainder of the meal. Cameron occasionally jotted notes on a small note-pad he drew from his trouser pocket, but Lally felt as though his attention never left her, never left them. Which was quite silly, because this wasn’t about her or them.
Finally, they finished the last sip of their coffee. Lally pushed away her half-eaten dessert of a profiterole filled with crème custard and coated in crunchy strands of caramelised sugar. ‘That’s delicious, but I can’t fit it all in.’
Cam patted his flat stomach and pushed the platter of cheese and crackers into the middle of the table. ‘I’m done there too.’ He glanced at his watch and met her gaze with eyes that were piercing and interested, weary, alert and conscious of her all at once. ‘It’s after eleven. Will you come and do the final step of tonight’s adventure with me now?’
Deep tone. Words meant to be about his work. Expression that was somewhat about that. Yet…
‘That’s what we’re here for.’ Lally agreed while her senses were in a muddle reacting to him.
She agreed before her brain engaged at all, really. That was dangerous, as was the feel of his arm holding her fingers tucked against his side as they left the restaurant after he paid for their meal. She could feel the muscles over his ribs moving as he walked; his skin beneath his shirt was warm against the back of her fingers.
He felt lean and fit—he was lean and fit—and gorgeous and appealing into the bargain. Lally shouldn’t be feeling these responses to him because she needed to protect herself. She was not ready to tackle another relationship with a man, and, even if she was, that man wasn’t going to be a millionaire, incredibly focused, fabulous and famous temporary boss: Cam was way out of her league.
So, what was she about, leaning against his side this way?
They climbed into a service lift that took them to the top of the hotel.
‘It’s only five storeys high, but I do want to go all the way to the roof for this.’ Cameron said it almost as though he felt he should apologise for this fact.
‘Whatever works best for your story.’ Lally told herself she had overcome her momentary lapse, that she had herself well in hand now.
That theory lasted until she looked into Cameron’s eyes and her pulse started to throb at her wrists and at the base of her neck. And—oh, it was silly—she suddenly she felt a bit…nervous too.
‘That’s exactly what I wanted to see, Lally—the edge of caution, even though at this stage you don’t believe you’re in any true danger.’ His words were a glide of consonants and cadence that crossed her senses like the brush of velvet over her skin. ‘That’s a look I can describe for my heroine to good effect in the book.’
The lift stopped and they stepped out onto the flat rooftop area of the building. Cam glanced around and led her towards the edge with a firm grip on her arm. ‘You don’t suffer from vertigo or anything like that?’
‘No. I don’t.’ Even so, Lally made no bones about leaning into his firm hold now; it was a long drop to ground level. Too bad if that made her look clingy just at the moment. ‘What?’
‘Look at the drop for me. Then we’re going to act out…’ He led her close enough that she could look over.
As Lally truly registered that they stood five storeys up on a deserted rooftop late at night, her imagination kicked in. What did Cam plan to write about this setting? What did he want her to do?
Lally glanced at her boss, and adrenalin and excitement coursed through her veins. It seemed necessary to speak in a hushed tone, and she whispered, ‘This is going to be a real rush, isn’t it? Like skydiving or something. My instincts are telling me it will be exciting. My heart’s in my throat already and I don’t even know yet.’
‘I don’t know what you’ll think.’ His fingers tightened their hold around her arm. ‘But we’re going to find out.’
CHAPTER SIX
‘YOU’LL be completely safe, Lally, but you may not feel safe for a moment or two.’ Cam’s gaze searched her face.
‘Whatever it is, I’m ready.’ Lally ignored the breathless edge to her voice and the nervous tension that went with it.
Cam clasped his fingers loosely about her elbows. ‘This would all happen very fast. She wouldn’t have time to think, but for the point of this exercise I’ll talk you through some of it. I want your thoughts on what her reactions would be.’