Dating the Rebel Tycoon(16)

'Though he looks scary, Bruce is really a big softie. He huffed and   puffed and made me promise we'd wear helmets, and then promptly forgot I   ever let him know what I was planning.'

She realised then that this would have taken a lot of planning. Meaning   he'd been thinking about dinner, and more importantly about her, for   much of the day.

What had happened to the hard, fast, cool character she was meant to be   dating? And why was she so damn stubborn that she wasn't running scared   right now?

He lifted his glass in salute. She took hers in a slightly unsteady hand   and touched it to his. The clink of fine craftsmanship echoed in the   wide, open space.                       
       
           



       

She said, 'Here's to Bruce.'

Cameron gave a small nod and took a sip, his eyes never once leaving   hers. The urge to laugh had been replaced by the urge to scream. This   was all so unreal, the kind of thing that happened to other girls. Nice   girls. Not pragmatic girls who'd deliberately ruined every   semi-meaningful relationship by walking away before the other shoe had a   chance to drop.

She allowed herself the luxury of screaming on the inside of her head, and it helped a little.

'Hungry?' Cameron asked.

'Famished,' she said on a whoosh of air. Her eyes drifted to the silver-domed platters. 'So, who else did you bribe tonight?'

'A friend owns a place at Breakfast Creek Wharf.' He opened up the first   dome to reveal a steaming plate of something delicious-looking.  'Scored  calamari-strips in capsicum salsa, topped with quarters of  lime.'

Rosie flapped her hands at him. 'Gimme, gimme, gimme.'

Cameron did as he was told and she dove in. At the first bite the taste   exploded on her tongue, sour and sweet, fresh, salty and juicy. Plenty   to keep her mouth full so she didn't have to talk. And didn't have to   hear him say anything else to make her warm to him even more.

Her eyes shifted sideways to the four other domes, a move he didn't miss.

'Lobster-tail salad with truffle oil,' he said. 'Followed by apple and   rhubarb tart with homemade vanilla and cinnamon ice cream.'

She warmed a good ten degrees.

A while later, after she swallowed her last mouthful of what had been   the most heavenly, delicious apple pie ever created, Rosie let out a   great sigh, folded her napkin on the table and looked up to find Cameron   sitting back in his chair watching her.

She wiped a quick hand over her mouth, in case she had a glob of melted   ice cream on the edge of her lip. But that wasn't it. He was watching   her like she'd watched the lobster tail: with relish for what was ahead.

Those blue eyes of his, so like his dad's.

Her heart squeezed for him so suddenly, she held a hand to her chest.   But knowing how it felt to have no father at all was one connection she   couldn't will away. She wondered what might happen if someone stuck his   father and him in a room together and locked the door. It couldn't  hurt,  but would it help?

Or should she just mind her own business and be glad he was ever so   slightly aloof? Aloof was a good thing. Aloof meant there was no chance   of any real deep connection being made. Which was fine. Great, even.   Perfect.

Cameron's mobile phone rang, and she jumped.

He glanced at it briefly then ignored it.

It rang and rang, and Rosie ran a finger over the last of the melted,   cinnamon-flecked ice cream on her plate, licking it off her finger. 'I   think that might be your phone making all that racket.'

'It's my brother Brendan,' he said, jaw tight. 'He's the least likely person in the world to call unless he wants something.'

If she'd thought him aloof before, that was nothing compared with the   thick, high wall blocking all access to him now. But it didn't help her   situation one bit. If there was one thing she didn't like more than   feeling emotionally unchecked, it was being made to feel invisible.

'Unless, of course, it's an urgent family matter,' she said, her voice as rigid as his change of behaviour.

His brow furrowed as he glanced at his phone, already a million miles away from her. 'Do you mind?'

'Not in the least.' She stood, snaffled a sugar-sprinkled strawberry   from a bowl and took the opportunity to give herself some much-needed   breathing space.





CHAPTER SEVEN




ROSIE had no idea how long she sat on a box crate, nothing between her   and the edge of the building but fresh air, watching the world below her   winding down.

The Brisbane River curved like a silver snake around the city. White   boats bobbing on the river surface looked like little glow-bugs; dark   patches dotted within the sparkly array marked out gardens and parks.   And ragged mountains in the distance barely altered the gentle curve of   the horizon.

The world was whisper-quiet, bar the shoosh of the wind. And above? The   moon was hidden behind patchy, leopard-print cloud, and delicate,   multi-coloured stars beamed intermittently through the gaps.

A wall of warmth washed against her back. She tensed and turned to find   Cameron, his face lit by the quiet moonlight. 'Everything okay?'

'Fine,' Cameron said, in such a way that she knew it was not. She knew   it was about his dad. The moment heaved between them. She itched to ask,   to know, but the truth was for her the less she knew about him the   better. That always made it easier when the time came to kiss cheeks and   walk away.                       
       
           



       

'So what do you think of the view?' he asked, sliding a crate next to hers.

She hugged her knees to her chest and wrapped her floaty dress tight   about her. 'Apart from it giving me a case of adult-onset vertigo?'

He laughed. 'Apart from that.'

'The view is … lovely.'

'Just lovely? Not magnificent? Not unmatchable? This floor will be rented out for so much money it makes me almost blush.'

'It's pretty. But kind of unreal when surrounded by so much concrete and   steel. You really want to see something? Stars so bright, so crisp, so   shiny and perfect, that you just want to hug yourself to keep all that   beauty locked up tight inside of you.'

As her little flight of fancy came to a close she realised he was   watching her with that inscrutable intensity that swept her legs out   from under her. Lucky thing she was sitting.

'Where, pray tell,' he asked, 'Can a man see such stars?'

'You're mocking me.'

'I am. Only because it makes you blush, which is a view to match even this one.'

She thanked her lucky stars that he was yet to figure out her blushing   had nothing to do with his words, and everything to do with   his … everything. As his eyes searched hers, she looked back out into the   night.

'Around three a.m. is best,' she said. 'At exactly this time of year.   Five-hundred metres down the road from where I live, there's a dirt   track leading to a plateau where the land drops away on three sides into   Samford Valley. If you look to the south-east you can see the city in   the distance. But you won't; you'll be looking up. And you'll truly   understand why it's called the Milky Way.'

He breathed deep. 'You'll be there tonight?'

'I'm there every night. Though I must admit, I lasted about an hour this morning before I fell asleep.'

His deep, warm voice skittered across her skin as he asked, 'Tired you out, did I?'

'Hardly. I'm just not as gung ho as I used to be.'

She glanced back at him, and regretted it instantly. The guy was like a   strong drink: just one taste and the effect on her body, and mind, was   debilitating.

He asked, 'And what are you hoping you might find up there in the sky to be out so late at night?'

She nudged her chin against her shoulder. 'I'm not hoping to see anything. I saw what I needed to see long ago.'

His voice was low as he asked, 'What did you see?'

'That my trifling concerns don't matter all that much to anyone but me.'

'Hmm.' Cameron closed one eye and squinted at her with the other. 'I was   brought up believing my family was the actual centre of the universe.'

'You do know the geocentric model went by the wayside around the   sixteenth century, right? You've really got to see one of Adele's shows   at the planetarium.'

Cameron laughed, and Rosie did too. The sounds joined for the briefest of moments before being carried away on the air.

'Until then, take this home with you-the fault is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings.'

Cameron waited a beat before saying, 'Where have I heard that before?'

'Eleventh-grade Shakespeare.'

He blinked blankly.

'Now, come on, you can't tell me you never compared some poor,   lovestruck and less-rigorously-educated young thing to a summer's day?'