'It's getting late,' she said, grabbing a clutch purse and a fake-fur wrap the same colour as her hair. 'Your family will be expecting you. How good does that feel?'
He let her lead the way, and paused when she simply shut the door and kept on walking.
'You're not locking up?' he asked.
She shot him a quick smile as she backed towards his car. 'No need. You met my faithful protector, didn't you? Serious eyes, big muscles, made of cardboard. He keeps me safe from harm.'
His eyes narrowed and he stalked to catch up. Not able to go even ten seconds without touching her, he slid an arm around her waist.
'Seriously,' she said, leaning away from him as though he was holding her as some form of punishment rather than for his own satisfaction. 'If anyone is brave enough to head into my woods at this time of night, they're welcome to whatever they find.'
When they reached the car he spun her to face him, holding her by the hips, his nostrils flaring as her sweet scent caught on the wind. 'Promise me when you come home tonight you'll lock that door behind you.'
Her eyes smiled. 'It's an old van. You can't open that front door unless you know exactly how to jiggle it. Nobody's getting in there, bar me or anyone I choose to let in.'
She kissed him on the lips, softly, lingeringly, with a promise he couldn't quite discern, then she slid into his car.
It took a moment for Cameron to collect himself before he rounded the back of the car, slid into the driver's seat and curled his way down her drive.
He kept half his focus on the road, half on preparing himself for the momentous evening ahead. Yet, even with all that to contend with, somehow he was never quite able to take his mind off the woman at his side.
By the time the front gates of the Kellys' family home loomed, Rosie was so nervous she could barely feel her toes.
Meeting the infamous Kellys was only half the problem. She was here for Cameron, and so long as she was herself and did her all to support him in his quest then she couldn't go wrong. But from the second he'd shown up at her door looking so suave, so sexy, so dark and delicious in his black tie, she had found it hard to remember how it was that she had promised him that she would be just fine when one day it all came to an end.
Cameron pulled up to the front gates, which opened in time for him to slide the car through. The charcoal-coloured driveway, embedded in a swirling pattern of white quartz, curled around a pristine green mound sprinkled with neat rows of white and orange roses.
Rosie pushed herself an inch off the seat. 'You have to be kidding me. Is that an Irish flag?'
Cameron didn't even need to glance at the garden to know what she was talking about. His mouth quirked into a smile. 'Welcome to Kelly Manor, where nothing is done by halves if it can be done twice as big.'
They drove on down the long, straight drive through an archway of oak trees which opened out to reveal a three-storey, dark brick, and cream trim, Edwardian-style home that looked like something out of an English period film.
Cameron pulled his car to a stop at the top of the circular drive. A liveried servant held the door open for Rosie, then took Cameron's keys in order to park the car goodness knew where, as the whole front drive was clear.
'Is this an intimate gathering?' she asked.
'Of course. Only a few hundred of my father's best friends.' There was no mistaking the tinge of bitterness in his voice.
She snuck her hand into the crook of his arm. 'You are doing the right thing. I meant it when I said if I had the chance to sit down and talk to my dad, to get things off my chest and let him explain himself in his own words, I'd take it.'
'You are a magnanimous woman, Rosalind Harper.'
'Well you, Cameron Kelly, are an amazing man. With a family who obviously want you to be a part of their lives. Don't blow it or I might never forgive you.'
'We can't have that, can we?' He tucked her hand close, and she could feel him drawing from her strength. It was a heady feeling indeed. One she found she liked very very much.
Fearing he might see in her eyes how much this was all affecting her, how much he was affecting her, she looked over her shoulder to find a Bentley cruising up the drive. 'This place is where the Thunderbirds got all their ideas, right?'
His laughter rumbled through her. 'Now what on earth are you talking about?'
'The cars. Where do they all go? I mean, the whole house opens up and there's an underground car-park beneath it all, right?'
Cameron unhooked her hand from his arm and snaked his arm around her hip as he guided her up the front steps. The move was possessive and sensual, sending her nerves spiralling up into the sky.
'You watch too much television,' he murmured against her ear, a wisp of hair tickling her cheek.
She leaned back into him. 'I work odd hours. I have an excuse.'
Cameron pressed the doorbell, and Rosie turned away to fix her hair, lick her top teeth in case of lipstick smudges and generally take in as much oxygen as she could before she entered the kind of rarefied air she had not had to endure since St Grellans.
'Everything okay?' Cameron asked, his hand touching her elbow in reassurance.
Over the top of the box hedges, Brisbane twinkled in the distance. 'Everything's fine. And for the record the view from your place is way better than this.'
Cameron grinned as the twelve-foot front door swung open, and he guided her inside. 'I knew I brought you for a reason.'
If the Kelly family had intended the front of their home to be imposing, it had nothing on the ballroom in which the party was being held.
Rosie's cold hands gripped the edge of a curling wrought-iron railing as she looked down from the gallery into the main room below.
Over two hundred people in evening dress milled about the massive rectangular space. A gleaming parquet floor shone in the light of six crystal chandeliers hanging from the multi-vaulted ceiling; a string quartet played in one corner of the room, a jazz band was setting up in the other, and white roses tumbled from every surface available.
She felt a sudden need to hitch up her dress.
'Come on,' Cameron said.
He took her hand and practically dragged her down the staircase and through the crowd so fast that he didn't have to stop and talk to anyone, and onto the dance floor, where several couples were swaying to the beautiful music.
He took her in his arms, pulled her close and together they danced.
With a blinding flash that had her losing her footing for a second, Rosie found herself deep in the middle of a memory she'd long since forgotten.
She was at the only school dance she'd ever attended. She'd been invited by a boy in her science class-Jeremy somebody. He'd been two inches shorter than her, and had always worn his trousers too tight, but in those days even to be asked …
Halfway through the night, dancing alone within the pulsating crowd, she'd turned to find herself looking into a pair of stunning blue eyes brimming with effortless self-belief. Cameron Kelly. A senior. She'd looked and she'd ached, if not to be with him then to be like him-content, fortunate, valued. He hadn't looked away.
And like that they'd danced with one another for no more than a quarter of a song before one of his friends had dragged him away for photos with the gang.
Cameron pulled her closer and drew her back to the present, just in time to hear him say, 'If only you'd let me dance with you this close all those years ago then who knows what might have happened?'
Rosie snapped her head back so fast she heard her neck crack. 'Excuse me?'
He pulled her back into his arms and wrapped her tighter until her cheek was back against his chest, and she could feel the steady beat of his heart as he twirled her around the floor.
'My senior-year dance,' he said, the sound rumbling through her. 'You were there, weren't you?'
She closed her eyes lest he realise what she could no longer deny-that she was still very much the young girl with the naïve, wide-open heart that had seen something exceptional in him all those years ago.
'You remember,' she whispered.
'Mmm. I remembered a couple of days back, actually. I forgot to mention it til now.'
Her knees wobbled in recognition of the smile in his voice. Her poor, struggling heart wobbled right along with them.
'Skinny black jeans,' he continued. 'Hot-pink tank top, enough eyeliner to drown a ship. And I might be getting this part wrong, but did you have your hair in two long plaits?'