A Beautiful Distraction(70)
“I’d say you had me at chocolate cake,” she said.
Marco clapped his hands together in a loud, approving slap, then reached over and gripped Rafe’s shoulder. “It’s always the cake, big brother. I’m telling ya, the cake gets ’em every time.”
An expensive-as-hell sleek blue Jaguar convertible pulled up in front of them.
“Damn,” Rafe muttered, appreciating the muscled beauty that had just parked along the curb.
A long-legged redhead stepped gracefully from the driver’s side. She was in a pair of shoes Rafe was sure were unsafe for operating a moving vehicle and wearing a long-sleeved dress that hit just above her knees and was tied with a belt below her tits. Tits that, might he add, were nicely accentuated by the slightly low neckline. He knew before she spoke that she was Camille. She was as sophisticated and beautiful as Fallon had made her seem, but she didn’t even come close to comparing to Fallon.
“Hi, sweets,” Camille said, pulling Fallon into a hug. “Who are these handsome men?”
Smiling, Fallon lifted her hand in introduction. “Cam, this is Rafe and this”—she gestured to Marco—“is Rafe’s brother Marco. He just managed to talk me into Sunday dinner by bribing me with cake.”
Camille laughed. “Smart man right there.”
“There’ll be plenty. Why don’t you come with her?” Marco suggested, his eyes admiring her discreetly.
“Oh no—I’ve got thirty-two girls to pick from, a bartender and four cocktail waitresses to train, and routines to learn. Sorry, baby. I wish I could, but I don’t have time.”
Fallon wheeled her luggage to Camille’s car and Rafe helped her load it. “So send me Camille’s address and I will come pick you up Sunday morning,” he said, brushing away a stray tuft of hair that kept falling down in front of her eyes.
“That’s okay. I’ll borrow one of Cam’s cars and come to you. That’ll save Marco from having to bring you back to the airport on Monday anyway.”
Gripping her waist, he pulled her against him, loving the way she sucked in a breath when her body softly collided with his. “As long as I get a chance to get you alone,” he murmured. Her body leaned into him as his hand pressed against her lower back, liquefying under his touch. It was going to be damn near unbearable to wait till Sunday to get her beneath him.
• • •
Following behind Camille, Fallon stepped out of the elevator and into her lavish apartment. It was perched high atop a co-op building across from Central Park. Fallon wouldn’t have expected anything other than elaborate from Cam. Not a single frame was out of place, not a single cup was littering the countertops, not a single article of clothing was draped across a piece of furniture. It was breathtakingly beautiful with its clean lines and marble counters, parquet floors, and stunning accent lighting. But it didn’t feel like a home. It didn’t feel lived in. Actually, it didn’t even look lived in.
Fallon’s attention was fixed on the lushly planted wraparound terrace that connected to a glass solarium. The view of Central Park and the reservoir backdropped by the city skyline was extraordinary. Opening the glass door to the solarium, Fallon stepped inside and made her way to the terrace.
She turned around when she heard the familiar click of Cam’s heels on the concrete. “Here you go, sweets,” she said, handing Fallon a glass of Diet Coke complete with cherries. “And I believe I’ve waited long enough for you to volunteer information on your sexy piece of man.”
Rolling her eyes, Fallon took a sip. “He’s not mine, Cam,” she said.
Laughing, Cam took a seat on the lounge chair against the wall. “He could be, baby. I saw the way he looked at you. And you looked at him the same way. What happened to arm’s length?”
She shrugged. “Arm’s length wasn’t far enough. I don’t know, Cam.” And she didn’t. She’d never experienced anything like him before.
Cam’s thick copper eyebrows darted upward. “Are you seeing him?”
“If by seeing him you mean sleeping with him, yes,” Fallon answered, sitting down in the chair next to her.
“What about your rules? I didn’t think trips to the city and family visits would apply,” she egged on, knowing good and well the extent Fallon went to in order to keep her rules, and also knowing good and well that she had already broken them.
That little prying thing that Fallon and Jade had an unspoken understanding about? Well, Camille didn’t play by unspoken guidelines, and she usually didn’t play by spoken ones either. And when it came to Fallon, Camille’s favorite pastime was meddling.