But my management company was concerned I was at home without protection. However, I felt the opposite. I felt safer in Ardnoch than anywhere. I told them to forward on the threats to the police as per the usual process. They kept a file of all the creepy emails, DMs, and letters, along with a list of dodgy characters who had revealed themselves and their stalker-like behavior. My security teams used to memorize that list before we went anywhere. I’d asked the team to forward the folder to me because it might prove useful, considering the cameras found in my London flat.
No. I hadn’t forgotten about that. I was just trying to compartmentalize that shit.
I stared at Cameron who waited for my answer about how retirement was treating me. “It’s good,” I replied simply. “Looking after Millie has been a nice change of pace.”
“Of course.” He nodded. “But you should remember you came home for yourself. You should concentrate on your writing.”
He said it casually, but there was a pointed sharpness to his tone. “I came home for my family. Millie’s family. I’ll take care of her for as long as she needs.”
His smile was soft. “You’re a good person.”
Hmm.
As if he sensed my uncertainty about his motives, Cameron leaned in to kiss me. He was a good kisser. I’d give him that.
Deepening the kiss, Cameron drew me against him, his hands smoothing around my waist and under my T-shirt.
The image of Fyfe standing half-naked in his bedroom flashed in my mind. I’d stupidly walked into his bedroom without knocking the morning Millie puked up her breakfast. Though I knew Fyfe was built, I’d still been stunned by how beautiful he was. Tight, sculpted muscle wrapped in smooth tan skin. He had a slight dusting of hair on his chest that narrowed downward in a happy trail. I’d seen plenty of men half-naked, men whose sole purpose in life was to look good on camera.
None of them had affected me the way the sight of Fyfe Moray affected me.
Stop thinking about him!
To dismiss Fyfe from my mind, I followed Cameron’s lead and pulled his shirt out of his trousers. He groaned into the kiss, pressing me back against the couch as my hands slipped under to smooth over his stomach. There was no happy trail, like Fyfe’s.
Stop, stop, stop!
Cameron was attractive.
I was attracted to him.
I moaned deliberately to prove it to myself.
But at the feel of his fingers undoing the top button on my jeans, I instinctually covered his hand with mine and broke the kiss.
He searched my face. “Are you okay?”
Gently, I pushed his hand from me. “I … I’m sorry. I … I’m not ready …”
“Hey.” Cameron cupped my face in his hands. “Eilidh, I’m not in this for a quick roll in the sack. We can take this slow.”
Relieved, I nodded. “Thank you. You’re a gentleman.”
“I want to treat you right. You’re so beautiful, Eilidh.” He brushed his lips over mine, almost reverently. “I can’t wait to make love to you, but I can wait. If that makes sense.”
At his smile, I forced a grin.
Make love.
Oh boy.
Not long later, I gave my excuses and left. Cameron kissed me at the door, this time even hungrier than last, his hands squeezing my hips as his erection dug into me. Although I experienced a stirring of arousal, I departed dazed and confused.
Sex had never been a big deal to me. I lost my virginity when I was sixteen and it happened because I wanted it to happen. From that moment on, sex was just for pleasure. It wasn’t about intimacy. It was about getting off.
I’d never tied up sex with romance in the past.
Until Fyfe.
