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Best Laid Plans Page 12


  Derek pointed to the top of her sheet. “He’s already at the venue. Cameron will drive you there and get you into the place, and Max and I will pick up the client and his wife.”

  Which meant more time alone with Cameron. Her heart thumped.

  Derek pointed farther down the timeline. “The client will stay for a couple hours, and then Max, Simon and I will take him back.”

  “And Cameron?” she asked.

  “He’ll take you back. He didn’t want you near the client. In the unlikely event that anything would happen.”

  “Oh.” Jackson frowned.

  What was the board thinking when they insisted she tag along on their assignment? The more she thought about it, the more she suspected that Cameron was right. She was in the way. Hanging around on a job was risky, both for her and for the team, and Harlan Blackmore and his board had no idea what they were asking her to do. But Cameron did, and he had taken on the job of babysitting her.

  Derek was still looking at her.

  “He volunteered, Jackson,” he said quietly. “He wanted to make sure you were safe.” Derek punctuated his statement with a nod and turned back to Max for more planning talk.

  Was Derek trying to tell her what a pain in the ass she was for Cameron, or was he saying something else? If it was the former, she didn’t need any reminders. If it was the latter? It didn’t matter. She was leaving tomorrow, so even if there was something more between them, there wasn’t anything to do about it.

  Derek and Max stopped talking, and Jackson looked up. Cameron stood in the doorway. His thick black hair was off his face, and his blue eyes were steely and cold. He wore a suit coat, unbuttoned. His hands were shoved into his pants pockets, showing hints of the now-loaded holsters around his shoulders. His eyes met hers, and for a moment, heat flared in them. Jackson drew in a breath, much louder than she meant to. Both Derek and Max looked at her, then back at Cameron. Shit. She had just all but announced her inappropriate interest in Cameron.

  Max smiled at Cameron. “I think I better get out of here before I say something stupid.”

  Derek snorted. “That would be a first.”

  Max and Derek stood up and headed out the door. Max patted Cameron on the shoulder as he passed, shaking his head. The men’s voices faded, leaving her alone with Cameron.

  His gaze was steady on her. She wrapped her scarf tighter around her shoulders and stood up.

  “You ready?” he asked, his voice rumbling from his chest.

  “Yes.”

  Jackson tried hard not to stare as she passed him. She really did. But his muscular body in a well-tailored suit and armed...well, it was impossible to ignore. He was sex and danger, and he was watching her right now like nothing else in the world existed. Did he do this to every woman he slept with? If so, he must have a long line of stalkers still hung over from all the intense attention he poured on them. Good thing she was leaving tomorrow night. If she lived any closer, she might become one of those stalkers.

  He stayed a half pace behind her, his large body looming just out of sight. He was on the job now, ready for anything. And yet the connection between them wasn’t broken. Every rasp of his heavy breaths sent a current through her. Every brush of his arm against her flooded her with heat.

  Jackson stopped in front of the elevator and pushed the call button. She stared at the doors, steeling herself for a painfully silent ride inside a small, private space. With Cameron.

  The doors opened, and they stepped in. Jackson searched for something to say, something to ease the crackling tension between them.

  “You don’t have to chaperone me tonight, Cameron,” she said, keeping her gaze on the elevator doors. “I’ll be fine on my own.”

  “I won’t hover over you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “That’s not what I mean.” She turned and looked up at him. Some of the iciness in his eyes faded. “I’m sorry you had to plan me into your job, too,” she said. “I’m sorry about this whole situation.”

  The heat flared in his eyes again. “I’m not.”

  Jackson blinked.

  “I’m not sorry about anything that’s happened between us, Jackson,” he said.

  His voice was low and heavy. Jackson bit her lip and turned to watch the floor numbers tick down. The truth was she wasn’t sorry that they’d gotten together, either. Who would be sorry about scorching-hot sex? Nope, not sorry at all. It was the first time she had done anything this bold and quite possibly the last.

  But why did it have to happen this way, when she was supposed to be working with him? Not even working. She was supposed to be training him. And reporting on him. And planning for future actions. Yes, she was doing her job, too, with good results so far, if the press they had gotten was any indication. But the mix of business and so not business was a dangerous game.

  The elevator doors opened, and Cameron stepped out first, scanning the lobby. He was fully on guard, focused. He walked out first and then waited for her to pass. Her own private security.

  A car waited for them at the building’s entrance, and the driver helped her in. They rode in silence through the Sydney streets, past tall buildings, past restaurants and cafés, past Circular Quay, past couples enjoying the evening breeze. Cameron leaned back against the seat and looked out the window, his face blank and unreadable.

  The car slowed as they approached the circular drive where the road officially ended and pulled onto the narrow path that led to the Opera House. The driver stopped a bit in front of it and opened her door, and she stepped out into the evening air.

  The Sydney Opera House was a majestic building during the day, but at night, it was magical. Each rounded white peak glowed, and the interior lights shone through the tall windows of the front entrance, creating patterns of lines and shadows. The building was perched high up above the harbor, and a long red rug cascaded down the enormous mountain of steps to the entrance.

  “Wow,” she breathed.

  Cameron’s low voice came from close behind. “An amazing creation, isn’t it?”

  Jackson nodded. Her gaze dropped lower, and she eyed the stairs. Good thing she wore flats tonight, considering what they were here for. The store saleswoman had almost talked her into red heels.

  As they started up the steps, she snuck a glance at Cameron. His face was blank, but his whole body was alert. Not tense, just aware. If the board ever saw him on the job, in this mode, they’d never think for a moment that he didn’t take the business seriously.

  Everything about him was impressive. And though she had resisted so many times that week, her resolve not to spend another night with him was crumbling. Yes, she read too much into sex with him. But tomorrow night she’d be on a plane back to New York, no matter what she read into it. And it wasn’t like anyone would find out. The man was in security, for goodness’ sake. He knew how to be discreet if he wanted to. Though the pile of photos in her file suggested otherwise.

  Would these stairs never end?

  “We can stop and rest a bit,” said Cameron.

  Jackson gave a little huff and nodded. They took another step and turned toward downtown. The sun was setting somewhere beyond the buildings, and the sky glowed with reds and oranges. The lights on the Harbour Bridge sparkled on the water, and the ferries glided in and out of Circular Quay.

  She smiled and turned to Cameron, perched on the step below. For the moment, they were almost the same height.

  “Is this in your little red book, Jackson?”

  He could have been talking about the Sydney cityscape, which was, in fact, impressive. But he wasn’t. She knew he wasn’t. He was asking her, Is this what you want?

  “It’s not in there,” she said, “but it probably should be.”

  She meant to give him her best business face, unfazed and assessing, but she couldn’t. Maybe it was how close t
hey were standing, his wide shoulders brushing against hers. Maybe it was the sunset, glowing behind the city. Maybe it was his soft, full lips that tasted like heaven. But as she met his eyes, his smile faded. Her heart stuttered.

  No. She couldn’t be falling for this man. Not Cameron Blackmore.

  Jackson gulped in a breath. Cameron, raking his hand through his hair, turned away and checked his watch.

  “The rest of the team will be here in about thirty minutes,” he said. “I need to get inside and meet Simon.”

  His gaze was fixed on the entrance. Right. He had a job to do, and so did she. But for one delicious moment, she had let herself want him. Not just in bed. She wanted him for real. She had all her clothes on, so she couldn’t blame it on a post-orgasmic haze. Damn.

  She looked up at Cameron’s face. Did she dare wonder if he wanted her, too?

  But the moment was gone. The blank, focused expression he had worn since they’d walked out of the office was back. They finished mounting the stairs and, after being admitted into the event, stopped just inside the door.

  “Where’s Simon?” she asked. “Or are we using some kind of secret route?” She smiled up at him. He didn’t smile back.

  “We? We’re not going anywhere.” He frowned. “I’m going to meet Simon. You’re going into the event.”

  Jackson put her hands on her hips. “You’re not ditching me for the whole night while you go off and do your job. I’m here to watch how you work.”

  Cameron clenched his jaw. “You’re PR, not quality control,” he bit out. “You’ll see enough from the event room.”

  What? After the last two weeks, did he still think he could bark at her like she was some disobedient child? This man knew how to piss her off like no one else did.

  “Number one,” she said, raising a finger in front of his face, “you’re not calling the shots alone here, and you can’t just cut me off. Number two, Derek said this wouldn’t be dangerous. Number th—”

  Cameron’s enormous hand closed over hers before she could lift a third finger. “You remember what happened the last time you started counting things off for me.”

  Jackson’s heart stuttered. His living room. Oh, yes, she remembered. And with his large chest just inches away, the scent of him all around... No. She pulled her hand away and glanced around. No one was looking. Thank God.

  Cameron gave himself a little shake. He closed his eyes, and his chest rose and fell heavily. Finally, he looked at her.

  “Okay, Jackson. I hear you.” He sighed. “But I don’t like this. You can come and get a sense of what’s going on while I meet with Simon, but the moment the client gets close or anything else happens, you need to be far away. No questions.”

  Jackson blinked. Was Cameron Blackmore actually offering a compromise?

  “All right.” She put her hand on her hip. “That was easier than I thought.”

  Cameron gave an incomprehensible snort and pulled out an earpiece from the collar of his shirt. He murmured something into it, and after a beat, he took her hand. “Let’s go.”

  They walked up a flight of stairs and down another. She snuck glances into doorways, trying to get a glimpse of the rooms in this iconic building, but after a while she gave up. Someday she’d come back here and take her time.

  Cameron pushed through a door into an empty hallway, muttering short phrases, presumably to Simon. He didn’t look in her direction, but he kept her hand tucked tightly into his. He stopped at every corner, ushering her behind him. Jackson tried to keep up with Cameron’s long strides. She was starting to pant, but she wasn’t about to ask him to slow down.

  But as they turned down yet another hallway, Cameron stopped and mumbled something.

  “Shit,” he hissed, turning to her. “We have a problem. I need to get you out of here.”

  “Okay,” she whispered.

  Cameron glanced around and pointed at a door. “In there.”

  He put his hand on his gun and looked into the dark room. Jackson waited in the hall, listening to the noises in the distance. No one was in sight. He grabbed her hand again, and they slipped inside. The space was windowless, lit only from an open doorway along another wall.

  “We’ll be out of the way in here,” he said, his voice low. “But we need to close that door. Stay close.”

  He led her across the room. But when they reached the doorway, Cameron froze. Jackson bumped into his side, but he didn’t move a muscle. She opened her mouth to ask what was going on, but she heard why he must have stopped. Footsteps. Cameron whispered something. Simon must have said something back because his grip on her hand tightened. What was happening?

  The footsteps grew louder. Cameron’s grip on her hand grew to bone-crushing tight.

  A shadow appeared outside the door. And the footsteps stopped. Shit.

  “I’m so glad to finally get you alone,” said Cameron loudly.

  What?

  “Go with it,” he breathed when she didn’t respond.

  Oh. Now she got it.

  “I’ve wanted you all night,” she said.

  “Come here, sweetheart.” He backed her away from the hall and into the wall of the dark room, his big body shielding hers. Over Cameron’s heavy breaths, the footsteps resumed. Closer. Cameron’s fingers dug into her waist. “Don’t worry. No one will find us here.”

  The footsteps stopped again. Then there was a crash. Cameron froze, but he didn’t pull away.

  Grunts came from the hallway. Cameron shifted, and his arms wrapped around her, holding her against him. His heart pounded in his chest, just as hard as hers.

  More grunts. Then came a voice. “All clear.”

  Simon.

  Cameron’s lips brushed the top of her head before he let her go. “Stay here,” he murmured to her.

  He walked to the doorway and stopped. “You look like shit.”

  “He looks worse,” said Simon. “Looks like we earned our keep before the event even started.”

  Cameron shook his head. “Nice job. Let Max and Derek know.”

  Jackson took a step forward, but Cameron put out his hand.

  “Derek and Max are just around the corner,” said Simon. “Go. Take her back.”

  Cameron gave a curt nod and came back to her. Curiosity was getting the better of her. Just how bad did Simon look? But one glance at Cameron told her that she’d have to leave it to her imagination. He took her hand and headed for the far entrance, where they had come in.

  When they walked out, she stopped. “That was the guy you were supposed to look out for?”

  Cameron nodded. “One of them.”

  “That was...close,” she whispered.

  He nodded, and the corners of his mouth turned down. He reached for her face and brushed his thumb over her cheek.

  “You didn’t want me to see that guy?” she asked.

  “Not that. I didn’t want him to see your face.”

  Oh. She really had no idea what she was getting into.

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I really shouldn’t be here.”

  Cameron didn’t answer. He wrapped his arms around her once again and pulled her in tight. Heat radiated from his body, and desire spiraled in the wake of all the excitement.

  “We need to get you back to the event,” he said gruffly.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CAMERON RUBBED HIS palms over his eyes and gave himself one more little shake. Thank God this night was almost over. He watched two big black cars drive away from the side exit of the Opera House. He had gotten through the event, but just barely.

  What the hell was wrong with him? He had stupidly let Jackson come along to give her what she wanted. To please her. Instead of following his instincts and keeping her away from all potential danger.

  Thank God the rest of the job had gone smoo
th and easy. Security was already tight at this event. The politician who had hired them wasn’t the only high-profile guest, and even getting Jackson a ticket had been a stretch. They needed to figure out how the hell that guy had slipped in.

  He couldn’t shake the mistake, even long after he left Jackson perched on a stool at one of the cocktail tables. This was why he kept his dick in his pants when it came to business. His grandfather never would have let a woman cloud his judgment. So why he still couldn’t get Jackson out of his mind, even after he’d screwed up, was too much to process as he walked back into the Bennelong Room.

  The lights were dim in the grand, cathedral-like space, and the wooden walls glowed in a warm yellow hue. The bar was a raised area in the middle, and he stopped there to survey the scene. The place usually served as a restaurant, but the dining tables were gone, replaced with a few cocktail tables and a wooden dance floor in the middle. A handful of couples danced, and the rest clumped together in groups, deep in conversation.

  He found Jackson immediately. She was standing right where he’d seen her last, at a round cocktail table, and from this angle he got an eyeful down the front of her dress. Unfortunately, Cameron wasn’t the only one who was enjoying the view. A man set a drink in front of her, and that guy’s gaze dipped down more than once.

  He started down the stairs and headed straight for her. Her eyes met his as he approached, and she held his gaze for one long, drawn-out moment before she looked back at the wanker who was talking away, his back to Cameron.

  “Sounds to me like your date forgot about you,” the guy continued. “I’d be happy to take you out on the dance floor if he has something better to do. But to tell you the truth, I can’t think of a single excuse for a man not to show a beautiful woman like you a good time tonight.”

  Cameron stopped within range of a good jab. “Is that so?”

  The guy turned around, and his eyes flared open. Cameron didn’t love to use his size to intimidate, but this asshole was asking for it.

  “Sorry, mate,” the guy mumbled and backed away, leaving Cameron alone with Jackson.

  “Was I interrupting something?” he growled. Real charming. He had to pull himself together. Had he really sunk as low as petty jealousy?