More Than a Playboy Read online

  The tiger enclosure was quiet and secure, with a tall fence around the tigers then a second fence several feet out around it, ensuring the utmost safety—clearly designed with adventurous boys in mind, but the distance between the outer fence and one white tiger they could see, made viewing a challenge for the children.

  “I can see, if I climb on the fence,” was Damien’s great idea.

  Sandy had to grab his thin shoulder to stop him from putting his plan into action. “You will not climb the fence, young man. I will lift each of you so you can see.” With that, Sandy heaved seven-year-old Damien in the air.

  Unprepared for the weight of even a skinny child like him, within seconds her arms ached.

  She lowered him to the ground.

  “But I hardly saw anything,” he protested, pouting.

  “Let me give everyone a turn, and then I’ll lift you again.” As placation went, it failed.

  Damien’s face turned red, and he shouted. “I hate you.”

  Sandy’s mouth fell open. She’d never had to deal with a child’s tantrum before, and she felt out of her depth. “Damien, please. I promise to give you another go. Just let the others have a turn to see the tiger.”

  “But I didn’t get much of a turn. You put me down too quick.” He shook off the hand Sandy had placed on his shoulder as she tried to reason with him. “I don’t need you. I’ll climb the fence.”

  “Damien, no.” Sandy held him by his shoulders again, wondering if the child’s name had anything to do with his demeanour. “That’s dangerous.”

  “Get off me.” He shoved her and took off back up the gravel path.

  “Damien, stop!” Yelling after him had no effect. “Stop.” Realising the boy was too angry to listen; she spun around to the three other children and pointed a finger at the ground for emphasis. “Don’t move! Adam, hold Mark and Lydia’s hands, and don’t let them move. I’ll be right back.”

  For a seven-year-old, Damien was fast. When he rounded a corner, Sandy feared she’d lose him and upped her speed. She wasn’t a runner and broke out in sweat with the thought of any type of sport. It stood to reason that even a scrawny little boy would outrun her.

  By the time she got to the corner, her lungs were burning.

  An image of how she’d feel as a mother if someone had misplaced her precious child flashed across her mind. The thought gave her a burst of adrenalin.

  She rounded the corner and all but cried with relief. Cameron had intercepted Damien and now hunkered down in front of the boy, a sympathetic expression on his face. Sandy suspected that whatever Cameron was saying restrained the boy more effectively than his gentle hand on Damien’s shoulder.

  This was not the Cameron she was used to. The man who made her laugh, who surprised her with little gifts and playful, outrageous comments; who flirted and drew blushes from her with his compliments. The Cameron who didn’t know how to be serious for more than three seconds per day.

  She could almost to resist that Cameron.

  This Cameron, on the other hand, had depths she never even suspected he possessed. The way he treated the children, gave each one his full attention—as though they were precious—tugged at a part of her she didn’t want to name. Despite her best effort to hold it in place, her shield slipped a fraction.

  “Thanks, Cam.” Puffed out, Sandy stopped beside Cameron and the five boys, spots dancing before her eyes. “Come on, Damien.”

  She took his hand and turned back toward the path leading to the tigers. She didn’t have time to pause, having left the rest of her charges unsupervised. She expected him to follow, but his stubborn stance yanked her back.

  “Damien? You have to come with me.”

  His mouth thinned, and his nostrils flared. “I don’t want to be in your group. I want to see the tigers.”

  “That’s where we are.” She tugged a little. “Come on.”

  He still wouldn’t move.

  Heat that had nothing to do with her mad dash to catch him scorched her face. She was well aware of Cameron observing her effort to take charge of the situation...and failing miserably.

  “No!” Damien dragged his hand out of hers. “I want to see the white tiger.”

  “I know, sweetie. And I promise to lift you again so you can see.”

  Crossing his arms over his little chest, he looked up at Sandy. “No, you won’t. You’re too weak.”

  Sandy laughed, hoping Cameron didn’t notice how embarrassed the confrontation with the child made her. “The reason I put you down, was so I could give the others a turn to see the tiger.”

  “You’re too short.” The child had no sense of diplomacy.

  In spite of the insult, Sandy smiled and ruffled his hair in a playful gesture. And to think she’d spent years being called Sandy lankz. “Five-foot-eight isn’t considered short for a woman, darling.”

  From her peripheral view, she noticed Cameron’s gaze slide over her, making her feel as if it burrowed beneath her lightweight autumn jacket as if each inch along her body his eyes travelled, stripped a little of her animosity toward him away, leaving her exposed and vulnerable to his magnetism.

  More heat radiated off her face.

  “I want to be in Cam’s group. He’s tall, and he has muscles. I bet he can hold me up in the air all day.”

  Sandy didn’t want to think of Cameron’s muscles. It was bad enough she’d noticed his body. She couldn’t let her imagination conjure up images of potential muscles too.

  She threw him a silent plea for help. “I’ve left the others alone at the tiger enclosure.”

  Cam gave a slight nod, indicating she should go back to the kids.

  Unable to think of a way to change Damien’s mind, she exhaled a defeated breath. “Thanks.” She turned, had only gone a couple of steps when she heard Cameron’s deep voice directed at Damien.

  “Hey, buddy, what do you say we join Sandy and the others, make one big group?”

  She picked up her pace, not wanting to hear Damien’s answer. She only prayed the child protested the idea as much as she did.

  3

  The tiger had accommodated them by sauntering closer to where Sandy stood outside the barrier with the three remaining children in her care, giving them an unhindered view.

  Her concentrated attention was on the grass verge where the white tiger lounged next to a boulder, when the crunch of gravel alerted her to approaching footsteps. With Lydia on her hip, she glanced over her shoulder to see Cameron and the boys headed toward them.

  So much for relying on the predictability of a stubborn little boy to keep Cameron at a distance. She adjusted Lydia on her hip and returned her gaze to the tiger, schooling her features in an expression she hoped showed indifference. If only she could erect a boundary fence between her and Cameron as effective as the one separating the tiger from them.

  By the time he and the boys had passed the line of tropical foliage and stopped next to her, she’d prepared herself for the sensations standing close to Cameron would create in her body.

  He reached across Sandy and gently tugged one of Lydia’s bouncy curls. “Hi, princess.” Then he did the same to Sandy’s hair. “Hi, princess,” he directed at her, his tone turning deep and intimate next to her ear. His elusive cologne teased her senses as unmercifully as he teased her. “Damien has agreed to us joining our groups to form one unit.”

  How was she going to get through the rest of the day if she couldn’t get away from Cameron and his potent effect on her senses? “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t see the point of combining the groups.”

  “You would leave me to look after five rowdy boys all by myself? Come on, Sandy. You know the rules. Four kids to an adult.”

  Darn! Cameron was right. Since Damien was steadfast in his decision to attach himself to Cam’s group, the obvious solution would be to join forces. Form one large group of eight children with two adult supervisors. Unless she managed
to persuade Damien to change his mind. Her gaze flew to the little boy. Perhaps she could get through to him now he’d seen the tiger.

  Seeming to read her thoughts, Cam folded his arms across his chest. “You can try, but I have to warn you, you won’t change his mind.” He leaned close, his warm breath against her ear sent a shiver of excitement through her. “His mother overcompensates for him not having a father. Little Damien is used to getting things his way, he’ll throw a tantrum before he’ll let you call the shots as you’ve discovered already today.”

  The memory brought a sense of dread. If she never had to deal with a situation like the one she’d faced with Damien for the rest of her life, it would suit her fine. “Put like that, how can I resist your offer?”

  Cameron smiled that make-the-girls-weak smile, winked and tossed, “I thought you’d see things my way,” over his shoulder as he turned to settle a couple of the overzealous boys in his group.

  When Cameron was out of earshot, Lydia leaned close to Sandy’s ear. “Cam likes you,” she whispered with the confidence of someone with authority on the subject. “When Brad pulled my hair at school, my mummy said that it meant he liked me. Cam pulled your hair. It means he likes you. If you like him, you should smack him on the arm with your fingers, but not hard, or it might hurt.”

  Sandy smiled, sympathizing with Lydia’s future single friends. She turned Lydia’s head so she could whisper in her ear and caught a hint of berry shampoo from the little girl’s hair. “How about if I smack him over the head with a frying pan?”

  Lydia burst into breathless giggles that seemed to pronounce her adorable lisp. “No, silly! That would hurt.”

  And dissuade him from teasing her as a pastime. The notion of smacking him upside the head was growing on Sandy. Especially when he appeared out of the blue at her side and leaned close enough to put her on edge.

  “Didn’t your mum ever tell you it’s poor form to whisper in public? Some of us are borderline paranoid. I’m starting to think you’re talking about me.”

  Gloom descended over Sandy at the mention of her mother. She sobered as her stomach gave an agonized twist. Cameron must have noticed the change. He frowned, the teasing light faded from his eyes, replaced with concern as he touched her shoulder.

  “Hey, Sandy. Are you okay? Did I say something to upset you?” He straightened away from her, but he was still too close for her peace of mind.

  Stepping back to put some space between them, Sandy lowered Lydia to the grass. “No, of course not.”

  Cameron had just reminded her of the reason she vowed never to fall for a rich playboy like him. In an effort to shun any further conversation, she called to the children scattered around them. Jake and Adam were standing close by absorbed in an animated conversation about helicopters.

  “Hey, guys?” she beckoned to the other children. “How about an ice cream break?”

  Cameron took the hint, and when the boys caught up to him, he joined in the aircraft conversation, leaving Sandy to walk at Lydia’s pace.

  “Sandy?” Lydia cocked her head to the side as she gazed up at her.

  If she ever had a daughter, Sandy wanted her to be like Lydia. “Yes, sweetie?”

  “Are you going to the ball like Cinderella? My mummy said Cam is throwing a big ball to make money for all the children. But she says it’s not a real ball, it’s a party like the one Cinderella went to. Do you suppose you’ll meet a prince?”

  Sandy laughed. Chance would be a fine thing! “I doubt it, sweetheart. As far as I know, Cameron hasn’t invited any Princes.”

  “But imagine if you were to meet a real prince,” Lydia persisted. “What do you suppose he would be like?”

  “Oh, I think he’d be very handsome, and he’d already be married to a beautiful princess.” Wasn’t that just her luck?

  4

  After making sure all the children had whatever they wanted to eat and drink, Cameron turned from talking to Rick and Blake, fellow TDA Daddies, to look for Sandy.

  As his gaze searched the outdoor tables he hated to admit he was so weak he couldn’t keep away from her, despite knowing she didn’t want to be anywhere near him. Spotting her wiping ice cream from Lydia’s mouth as they sat at one of the picnic tables near the café, Cameron decided to join them.

  Discovering how great Sandy was with children had been a pleasant surprise. She was comfortable with kids and more capable than he’d have guessed. He had no doubt she’d make an amazing mum. Anyone seeing her with Lydia would think she was the child’s mother. Not only because they shared the same hair colouring and curls, but the maternal care Sandy showed the little girl left one in no doubt she loved the child.

  Maternal love was something he hadn’t often experienced. Cameron swallowed the lump of bitterness that always lodged itself in his throat with thoughts of his childhood, and shook off the familiar melancholy. He was willing to bet Sandy was the type of woman who would have children for no other reason than because she wanted them.

  So he had an excuse to sit next to Sandy, he stopped off at the café a few feet from the seating area to grab a cappuccino. Every now and then, when he was going into TDA in the morning, he’d buy her the milky espresso coffee because he knew it was her favourite, and it thrilled him to see the surprised frown she always gave him just before she breathed, “Thank you, Cam. You’re spoiling me.” What he wouldn’t give to have the freedom to indulge her. She was worth pampering.

  When he got to the picnic table, he slid onto the bench next to Sandy. She stopped talking and shifted to look everywhere but at him. “Hey, Cam.”

  He gave Lydia a grin as he pressed the disposable coffee cup into Sandy’s hand, enjoying the energy charge that passed between them as his fingers brushed hers. “It’s cappuccino with chocolate on top...the way you like it.”

  She rewarded him with the usual frown, but if anything, it was fiercer than usual. “Um...thanks.” She popped off the lid and glanced into the cup.

  As he watched her take a deep inhale, a look of pleasure on her face replacing the frown, Cameron experienced a sense of satisfaction. In a roundabout way, he had put that look on her face.

  She re-covered the cup and took a sip.

  To avoid the risk of Sandy turning and finding him watching her drink his gift as though he was a lovesick teen, Cameron focused his attention on Lydia, who was looking from Sandy to him and grinning.

  Sandy grinned, too.

  He didn’t trust that sassy grin. “So, what were you girls talking about?”

  “We were talking about smacking you over the head with a frying pan.”

  Three years of Sandy’s insults should’ve prepared him, but even with the sassy grin as a warning, she still caught him by surprise. “Whatever for?”

  Sandy opened her mouth at the same time Lydia chimed in. “Because you tugged her hair.”

  “I tug your hair all the time. Do you want to hit me also?”

  She wiped her mouth on her sleeve before Sandy could reach for a tissue. “No. My daddy used to tug my hair like that when I was little. But then he died.” She bit a piece off the ice cream cone, her feet swinging under the table. “I like it when you do it. It’s like I have a daddy again.”

  Cameron’s heart melted. “Then I’ll do it all the time.”

  “Mummy said,” she continued. “When a boy pulls a girl’s hair, it means he likes her. So you must like Sandy.”

  He most certainly did like Sandy—more than liked her—and had for the better part of three years. “Do you think Sandy likes me?”

  Sandy made a choking sound as though her coffee had gone down the wrong way.

  Lydia reached out and gave his shoulder a sympathetic pat. “I don’t think so. She wants to hit you with a frying pan. That really hurts.”

  He couldn’t suppress his laughter even if he wanted to. “You won’t hit me with a frying pan, would you, princess?”

  Lydia smiled and shook her curls, making them tumble in wild disarray aroun
d her head.

  “See?” He tugged on one of Sandy’s blonde curls just for the hell of it...and because he couldn’t lose the desire to touch her. “At least one female likes me.”

  Sandy glared at him, but he noticed the tiny, playful smile at the corners of her mouth. “Will you stop that?” Her hand shot out and swatted his arm. Her mouth fell open in a surprised O. Too late, she realised what hitting him meant.

  Cam laughed as he stood and held out a hand to Lydia. “I think Sandy likes me after all, Lyd. What do you think?”

  The little girl rewarded him with a pink ice cream smile, her eyes wide with excitement as she gave him an exaggerated nod.

  Sandy groaned, threw her free hand in the air, and glanced up to the heavens.

  Unable to resist teasing her, Cam sent her a wink, completely unaffected by her scowl. What he wouldn’t give to lean down and kiss her. He couldn’t wait for the charity ball. The chance to steal a dance with Sandy rooted anticipation deep in his belly.

  Only a few more days and he’d have the perfect excuse to hold her in his arms.

  5

  The Limo pulled up to an extravagant white residence that looked more like an eastern European palace than a private house. Spotlights illuminated the manicured grounds—beautiful flowerbeds, and a huge fountain featuring a couple locked in each other’s arms as they kissed under a waterfall.

  The chauffeur opened the door.

  Sandy slid along the bench seat behind Daniel and Jamie as they stepped out onto the decorative concrete drive into the October night.

  When a chilled breeze drifted over her bare shoulders, Sandy pulled her white fake-fur wrap snug around her. Strains of merriment drifted from the house as the three of them thanked the chauffeur and headed to the main entrance behind another group of arrivals.

  Two huge white pillars bracketed a Coat of Arms above large gilded double doors, which opened as they drew near.

  “Good evening. Invitation?” The door attendant held out his large hand as they stepped into the marbled hall. An impression of gilded ceilings, lead crystal chandeliers, and yellow topaz marble created an elegant setting.