Which made her all the angrier about his comment the night before. He must have sensed her momentary lapse in judgment when he rested over her, still inside of her. The whole encounter had been beyond amazing, but when he looked down at her with what had looked like awe, she had almost taken his face in both her hands and told himexactly what she was thinking. That he wasn’t at all what she’d expected. That he made her feel better than anyone ever had.
Thank God she hadn’t. She had completely misread him. Of course. A careful and calculating man known for his appearances with some high-profile women knew how to cultivate that feeling of intimacy they’d shared. She didn’t assume the media had all the facts straightabout his affairs, but she also didn’t doubt for a second that Cameron Blackmore had his fair share of lovers. He clearly knew what women wanted. But that didn’t make any of it real. His comment last night was a message: game over. And she got that message loud and clear. The fact that it hurt told her that she should never repeat a night like that with him, even if they weren’t in danger of gettingcaught.
Cameron hadn’t misled her. He had been perfectly clear the first night in the hotel. He was giving her exactly what he promised: orgasms with his big, hard cock. And yes, he definitely knew how to use it.
She was the one who couldn’t just let it be.
She needed to refocus. She was supposed to be revising the PR plan. Most of the tactics she had proposed still worked, but themedia coverage ideas were off.
Her phone rang, and her assistant’s name popped up on the screen.
“Kyle,” she said. “How’s the northern half of the world today?”
“Cold. And busy.” His voice was as chipper as ever.
Jackson glanced at her laptop clock, still set to New York time. It was 6:30 p.m.—yesterday?—and the man sounded like he was just starting his day. Probably the type thatonly needed six hours of sleep at night. Which was good for her, since he had taken on a chunk of her clients while she was in Sydney.
“What do you have for me?” she asked.
“I’m sending over the finals that art just passed on for three December campaigns. I just wanted to run them by you before I okayed them.”
She clicked on the images in Kyle’s email, and scanned them. “Nice. Thesecond one should probably be a shade or two lighter so that everything still shows up on a smaller scale, but otherwise they’re good to go.”
“Right, lighter,” said Kyle. “I should have seen that.”
Jackson laughed. “Don’t sweat it. You’re the best assistant I’ve ever had. Give it a little more time and you’ll be taking over my job.”
“And be assigned to hot Australian clients?” Kylewas definitely smirking now. “That alone is reason enough to work for it. Is he as good-looking in person as he is on paper?”
Thank God this wasn’t a video conference because Jackson’s face had to be beet red by now.
“He’s technically American,” she managed to mutter.
“Is that a yes?” Kyle laughed. “I’d take him anyway, though I suspect I’m not his type. But you never know.”
Jacksonknew exactly what type Cameron was. She flashed to the night before, his naked, muscular torso over her as he came. Shit. She cleared her throat. “I’ve got to go. Send me the revision of the second file when you get it.”
She hung up the phone.Focus on the job, girl.
Jackson scanned the company’s financial statements. Some of the clients were clear, but others were masked by blandly namedcorporations. Nothing she could use.
She sighed and looked through the document again. The easiest media coverage to get would be to make a public appearance with a charitable organization, but Blackmore Inc. in Australia didn’t seem to give exceptional sums to any one place. Maybe she could convince Cameron to. He could give enough to be newsworthy, she’d send out a press release and theycould all deliver the check in person in the next day or two. Perfect.
Jackson closed her laptop and headed for the Blackmore Inc. building.
Twenty minutes later, she stepped out of the elevator into the bright penthouse office.
“Good afternoon, Ms. McAllister,” said the receptionist. Chloe, Jackson remembered. She was young and blonde with long, manicured nails and... Jackson frowned.Did Cameron sleep with his receptionist?
“I’m meeting Mr. Blackmore,” said Jackson.
The younger woman nodded. “He and Mr. Latu just headed down to the fifth-floor gym. He said you could set up in the conference room while you wait.”
“While I wait?” Jackson echoed.
“They’re usually gone for an hour or so.”
Jackson huffed out a breath. Wait for Cameron to lift weights and hangout with his friends? Nope.
