“That’s not going to happen, Mr. Blackmore,” Jackson said, matching his tone perfectly. “I’m here because trusting you isn’t working for the board.”
He bit back an angry retort. The other three were watching this exchange, backand forth, waiting for someone to falter. But Jackson didn’t. Her cool gaze was fixed on him, waiting for his next move.
Simon cleared his throat. “As entertaining as this is to watch, I’m going to jump in here with an easy solution. Why doesn’t Ms. McAllister go to your place tonight and look at the client list? It never leaves your place, and Ms. McAllister gets to verify the names in person.”
Jackson’s eyes widened and Cameron froze. Jackson in his apartment? No way.
“Fine. That sounds like a good solution,” said Jackson, her voice a little higher.
The whole table turned to him.
“Fine,” mumbled Cameron. “Fine.” He looked up and met Derek’s gaze. His friend glanced at Jackson and back at him, a deep line forming between his eyebrows. Cameron turned away. The last thinghe wanted was for Derek to think through this situation further.
Jackson didn’t miss a beat. She consulted her bullet-pointed list and asked her next question. But Cameron couldn’t move on. Him and Jackson alone in his apartment tonight? Not fine at all.
* * *
By the time they left the restaurant, Cameron still hadn’t come up with a good reason why Jackson shouldn’t go back to hisplace that night. But the master list never left the privacy of his home. Any other solution had the potential to betray the confidentiality of his most vulnerable—or most secretive—clients. And he wasn’t ready to stoop as low as claiming sudden food poisoning to get out of this visit. Almost, but not quite. Besides, excuses would only delay the problem, not solve it.
So, he found himselfstanding at Circular Quay with Jackson as his private launch arrived to take them home. The captain, Ralph, helped Jackson climb in, and Cameron followed after her. She hadn’t looked at him once since they’d left the restaurant. It was going to be a long, hard night in every way possible.
She didn’t say a word as they left the dock. Her eyes widened as they passed the Opera House and thenshe turned for a view of the Harbour Bridge. He leaned back against his seat and watched her. Strands of her lustrous brown hair escaped from the bun and whipped across her face as the boat picked up speed. The corners of her mouth turned up. In the restaurant she was all business, but now, as she looked out into the harbor, she looked softer, the way she’d looked the night before.
The thoughtdampened his already pessimistic outlook for the evening. He was going to spend the next hour or two trying not to think about all the things he’d rather be doing with her in his apartment.
The launch glided through the waters into his little harbor. Ralph tied up the boat at a private jetty, and he and Jackson wordlessly made their way across the dock to his building. The silence grew heavieras they rode the elevator up to his apartment.
She took the fastener out of her hair to retighten the knot, and he crossed his arms, willing himself not to look at the front of her silky blouse, where one too many buttons had come undone in the process. He was not going to look at the tops of two of the most delicious breasts he had ever seen. Why the hell hadn’t he focused more on them thenight before? Finally, the elevator doors opened, and Cameron stepped out first. He wasn’t going to watch her from behind again. He entered his penthouse, hung his jacket in the hall closet and headed for his bedroom.
“You can wait in there,” he said to Jackson, gesturing toward the dining room. “I’ll be right back with the list.”
When he returned, he found her waiting by the window, lookingover the harbor. He sat down at the table and opened his laptop. She spoke to him without turning around.
“Your office isn’t your only view of the Harbour Bridge,” she murmured. “I like this one even better.”
“Thanks.” He looked out at the water. He had chosen this penthouse apartment for its view, but how long had it been since he’d actually enjoyed it? All the money spent on furnitureand rugs and whatever else the company’s decorator had chosen to fill this place was a waste. But the board had insisted. A CEO didn’t live in a 300-square-foot apartment without a sofa.
“Head of a successful company in Australia, apartment with a view, commute in your own private boat.” She sighed. “Quite a life you have for yourself, Mr. Blackmore.”
“Please don’t call me Mr. Blackmore.Not here, not after—” He stopped. He shouldn’t even mention it. “It’s Cameron. And yes, I’ve made a good life here. Probably should start learning to appreciate it more.”
“You should,” she said softly. “More than one bedroom in New York is a dream, never mind the view.”
She slipped into a chair next to his and pulled out the folder of press clippings. “I’m sorry to do this to you, butI need to confirm that each person in the photos is on your list. If it all checks out, I’ll report back to the board tomorrow morning and let them know these are clients, not...anything else.”
Cameron’s jaw clenched. What the hell? “So the board sent you over to make a list of who my team might have taken home?” growled Cameron. His day was getting worse by the minute.
“Don’t flatteryourself,” Jackson said coolly. “No one cares how much mediocre sex you have. The board just cares about your company’s image. So let’s move on.”
Cameron’s jaw dropped open.Mediocre sex?Was she implying that their night together was mediocre? No. Impossible. The night before was fantastic. She’d thought so, too...hadn’t she?
Jackson picked up one of the photos from her file.
“Mr.Blackmore?” she asked in a sugary tone. “Can we get on with this?”
He grunted some approximation of yes.
“Good,” she said. “How do you want to work this?”
