The sun was getting ready to set, and it brought on romantic images of lounging on the beach or beside the pool. Slipping into the hot tub. That final image brought James into the picture once more. Suddenly she imagined him holding her gaze, his always-serious blue eyes hooded by that brooding brow. She imagined him moving closer, sliding his hands onto her hips; she gave into the warm sensation that spilled over her at the thought.
Her eyes shot open. “Stop, Camila,” she scolded under her breath. Gypsy was right, wasn’t she? It had been far too long since Camila had entertained the company of a man. And now here she was, in some lonely, deprived state, fantasizing about her billionaire boss who, by the way, wouldn’t want anything to do with her outside of their professional setting.
Camila pictured her last relationship. Lyle King had been a good boyfriend at first. Caring, kind, and funny. But she soon saw another side to him. A controlling side. It had her musing on the hidden darkness in her past—the reason she’d been raised by her grandparents, not her parents.
It had taken years for Grandma and Grandpa Lopez to confess the details. In fact, they’d only done so after Camila dug into online articles and found out for herself what had happened. Found out that her own father was, in fact, a monster.
No, Camila.Don’t reopen that wound. She’d spent years seeing a good therapist to sort through that trauma, and even still, without the love and example of her grandparents, she might not have made it through.
But that didn’t erase the looming question in the back of her mind: was she—like her mother—attracted to the wrong sorts of men? Her ex boyfriend was a powerful man. A successful lawyer who earned admiration while demanding respect.
James Benton was a similar sort. At least, he seemed to be. And yet he was the only man Camila had found herself drawn to in months. Of course, that didn’t mean he was anything like Lyle, or her father for that matter. Besides, she reminded herself, the topic was moot. James had a girlfriend. And even if he didn’t, he would never date someone like her. Which was just fine—she wasn’t interested in him either.
Camila would focus on her job and do her best to stop the daydreams before they got carried away.
Chapter 7
James woke up with thoughts of the Latin beauty on his mind. Before running into her in the workout room yesterday, he’d planned to apologize to her and start fresh. Instead, he’d caught himself daydreaming about a private cruise with Camila by his side, enjoying their shared taste in music. It’d been enough to scare him into hiding the entire day.
But today would be different. He’d go right back to his no-work policy and doing whatever it was hewouldn’tnormally do.
He settled on a pair of khaki slacks and a V-neck tee shirt. A quick dab of aftershave followed by a second glance in the mirror, and he was ready for his seven o’clock breakfast. One hewouldn’ttake in his room.
Just as he made his way toward the kitchen, James’ phone buzzed.
Please don’t be Stephanie.He tugged the small device from his pocket, and smiled when he saw the text was from Camila instead.
Camila:Wondered if you’d like to have breakfast outside this morning? It’s gorgeous out on the deck.
Great. She probably worried that he was a total shut-in. He stopped walking and typed out a reply.
James:Sure. Sounds nice.
He slid the phone back into his pocket and took the wide corner, knowing Camila would likely be standing just yards away from him in the kitchen.
She was beside the counter, a fitted apron pulled over her curvy figure.
He slowed his steps as he watched her retrieve his text. A smile pulled at her lips. A broad, beautiful smile that made heat flare low in his belly. And there was that dimple. Heaven help him, but did his knees actually feel like they might give way like the old cliché implied?
Good heavens, get it together. You’re James Freaking Benton.
He puffed his shoulders and wiped the dopey grin off his face. “Morning,” he said with a nod.
She glanced up, her gaze drifting before settling right on him.
His pulse kicked up a notch. Her eyes were hypnotic. Even from a distance, those dark brown depths drew him in. But he’d be lying if he said they weren’t guarded too.
“Good morning. Glad you said yes about the patio. Go ahead and have a seat out there. I’ll, um…” She dropped her gaze back to the countertop. “Bring out your breakfast in just a minute.”
An idea came to him then. A very foolish, very tempting idea. And before he could silence it in a flash ofRegular Jamessanity, he gave into it instead. “Would you like to join me?”
He couldn’t exactly see her expression, with her chin down as it was, but he definitely spotted the surprised lift of her eyebrows.
His pulse grew loud and heavy at his left temple.
Camila balanced a sprig of green onto the iced drink before her, then dried her hands off with her apron. “I’m not sure—” she started to say, lifting her gaze once more, but James spoke up again.
“No pressure. I just…at some point, I’d like the chance to clear the air, if you don’t mind.” He despised the desperation boiling beneath his own words. Hoped she couldn’t detect it for herself.
