“Okay,” she said between kisses. “Let’s say goodnight now.”
James pulled back to hold her gaze. His chest and shoulders swelling as he nodded. “Okay.” His hands slid off of her hips slowly, reluctantly. “Goodnight.” It came out in a whisper.
Camila gave him one last kiss, short and sweet, then forced herself to climb off the chair. She looked over her shoulder as she stepped back onto the deck. He held her gaze for a blink, the longing expression on his face fanning at the heat once more.
She grinned, half-tempted to go back and join him. Instead, she cleared her throat and summoned the word she didn’t want to say. “Goodnight.”
Chapter 15
Camila looked out over the water as they neared the harbor. Blue had always been one of her favorite colors. And this—the endless shades of ocean blue against the cloudless sky—was almost as hypnotizing as James’ heavenly eyes.
It had been an incredible weekend, a dream, really. And last night? Just the recollection of their time on the hammock caused a rush of lingering bliss to roll through her. So why was it so quickly replaced with this odd degree of fear?
A quick glance over her shoulder said James was still on his phone. He’d been on it since lunch was through. Sure, he’d apologized for having to “step away and conduct a bit of business,” but Camila couldn’t help but worry. What she’d experienced last night was closer to a fairytale than anything she’d known. Which was great. Except that, well, gaining something so beautiful meant that you could lose it too.
It was an odd thing to admit, but Camila had, in some ways, lost it all. The people dearest to her were gone. Something about that had lent her a sense of empowerment. What could hurt me now?
But today, Camila had an answer to that—found in the very man she was falling for, and fast. The acknowledgment opened two opposing floodgates: one welcomed all the flutters and feels of falling in love; the other let loose a rush of panic.
Camila sighed as she leaned onto the railing at the back of the boat. The sun spread warmth across her back like a blanket. From the time she was young, Camila felt a level of love from the sunrays. It was as if God himself was reaching down to say everything would be all right. That—despite how lonely she might feel—she was never really alone.
And while it lent her comfort in that moment too, Camila couldn’t stop her mind from forging back into the treacherous territories of her off-the-wall dream last night.
It had all started with Adel. She’d popped into view, phone in hand while writing a slanderous social media post about her. “If Camila plans to follow her father’s steps, she can simply change her page name from @CamilaCooks to @CamilaKills.” She giggled at herself and hitpost.
James wasn’t far behind. He strolled in wearing a tux, his diamond crusted cufflinks bright and glistening.
He walked toward Camila, or so she’d thought until he veered over to Adel instead. One glance at her post, and he let loose a massive belly laugh. “Guess we’re lucky she doesn’t take after her father. She might have killed me for destroying her precious ostrich eggs.”
The two burst into laughter.
A dream as it might have been, the fury that gripped Camila was hot and hard to quench. She’d marched over to the pair and knocked the phone out of Adel’s hand. “They werequaileggs, you idiot.”
Adel threw back her head and cackled. “Like we care.” The cruel woman narrowed her gaze, took a long step forward, and locked her flaming green eyes on her. “Did you actually think you were his type? After he dated someone likeme?”
A shiver rocked through her at the recollection. That sentence, even if ithadcome straight out of her nightmare, hammered fear into Camila’s heart even still.
The dream had ended with Adel and James in a fit of laughter. As if the idea that he could ever love her was no more than a joke.
The horror of it haunted Camila for the remainder of the day.
She hated feeling distracted while bidding farewell to the crew she’d become so fond of, but even in those brief goodbyes, and during the drive back to the villa as well, the worry wedged into her mind.
Part of her wondered if she should have simply opened up about her past. James liked her, he really did. But she hadn’t presentedallof her. He liked the side of her with the sad past and hopeful future. But would he like her once he discovered the darkness too? Would he worry it could taint their shot at a future?
Back at the villa, Camila unpacked her things, wandered back to the kitchen, and fastened an apron around her waist. It felt good to be back. The sunset’s glow pouring in through the west windows. The colors reaching the opposite side of the house where they bobbed and swayed over the waves.
James had asked her to go over Winston’s journal with him. Such a personal and intimate request. Would he follow through with it now that they were back? Or would the familiar setting of her working for him put them back on different levels?
She hated admitting it, but it seemed more likely that he’d go back to ignoring her. After being glued to his phone throughout most of the trip back, James had taken to his office, apologizing to her once more.
So what now? Would she get a text asking her to bring dinner to his office once again? Or worse yet, one saying that her services were no longer needed? That she could pack her bags and go home?
“Hey,” he called, pulling her out of her musings in a blink. He stepped into the kitchen, a wide grin on his face. “I wanted to show you what I’ve been up to. It took a while, since I’m no good at social media. And I had to get my PA to help me, but look.”
He tugged his phone from his pocket and tapped the screen. There, beneath his verified profile name and picture, was a posted review for Camila Cooks:Five stars for this incredible private chef. Camila is as personable as she is professional, offering a wide selection of fine food with grace, class, and culinary precision.
Camila’s heart beat wildly out of rhythm as she read. She paused to glance up at James, still stunned that he’d done this for her.
