More Than a Playboy Read online

  The plump-faced door attendant gave the black type on each glossy red and white invitation card a cursory glance before nodding them on.

  “Thank you,” Sandy muttered as another attendant took their wraps and coats. She headed up the long marble stairs behind the rest of the group to the ballroom. So far, everything about this house astounded her. From the well-kept grounds, to the fabulous gold leaf on just about everything, but most of all, the marble walls and floors enthralled her.

  Daniel gave a low whistle while Jamie chuckled and wrapped her hand around his arm. “I have a great feeling the charity is about to do very well tonight.”

  Sandy let her gaze slide over the large, elegant room as she sought to single out their host. Not because she was desperate to see Cam after a whole three days without him popping into the agency. And not because she missed him. She was merely looking for Cameron in the hope he would introduce them to the owner of this house. She was dying to ask about its history. Some kind of royalty lived here, and if she got to spend time with Cameron as a result, she wasn’t going to complain.

  Just when she was about to give up the search, she spotted him amidst a small group of men. Her heart leapt and her stomach followed. Though he stood with other men of similar dress, he was somehow more distinctive. His black designer tuxedo appeared classier; the quarter inch satin strip running down the side of his trouser leg added a sleek contrast to the matte black material. He’d left the single button on his jacket open to reveal the red silk cummerbund, which hugged his flat stomach in a way that overworked her imagination.

  The way he filled out a tux taunted her mind with intimate questions. Were his shoulders as broad as they appeared? Or was the incredible width of his chest emphasized by his white tuxedo shirt? If his chest was as masculine as it seemed, did it give way to a muscled abdomen with a fine line of hair trailing down the middle?

  A waitress paused in front of them, indicating the tray she palmed at shoulder height. “Champagne?”

  Grateful for the waitress’s interruption, Sandy grabbed for a glass at the same time Daniel did, as if the alcohol was a lifeline to her sanity. Cameron was not the man she should be fantasizing about. Besides, for all she knew he was skinny and unfit under that superb tuxedo.

  Daniel smiled at the waitress, a cute dimple appearing in his right cheek. “Can you get my wife a cranberry juice?”

  “Sure.” She turned but not before sliding her gaze over Daniel with a smile that was way too friendly.

  Chuckling in response to her blatant interest, he placed one hand over the slight bump under Jamie’s red silk dress while his other hand, holding the champagne flute, hugged her to his side. “We’re having our second baby.” He turned his gaze to look deep into Jamie’s amused eyes. From her relaxed reaction, she was used to women reacting to Daniel, and was secure enough in her marriage not to let such unconcealed female attention toward her husband affect her. “Isn’t my wife the most beautiful woman in the world?” His voice was low, deep, and sincere.

  Sandy almost sighed when his lips slanted over Jamie’s. She cleared her throat. “She’s gone. I think she got the message. You love your wife.”

  She drank down the bubbly liquid in her glass. She wanted what Jamie had—a husband who would kiss her in the middle of a public function as an effective communication to all women that she was the only woman he wanted. A man who didn’t care about money, whose life didn’t revolve around seeking pleasures without commitment or responsibilities.

  And most definitely not a playboy like her father, who was happy to keep her mother as his mistress, his bit of fun for a while, until she’d fallen pregnant with Sandy. Then she’d lost her appeal. Benjamin had turned his back on them the day Penny had shared the news of her pregnancy with him.

  She’d never met her father, and never wanted to. He didn’t want her, and she didn’t want him—or any man even a little like him.

  6

  The theme for the ball was black, white, and red.

  The guests all wore varying combinations of the dress code, but only one woman held Cameron’s interest, and she stood not six feet away, holding a champagne glass as she chatted with Jamie and Daniel Jacob.

  Sandy had her long golden curls swept up into a sophisticated style that allowed a few tendrils to hang in soft wisps around her face. The ones brushing her neck urged him to sneak up behind her, sweep them aside and kiss her nape.

  “So who is she?”

  Cam dragged his attention from Sandy and glanced at his buddy, Justin Knight, who was standing next to him. He met Justin five years ago when he was searching for a well-equipped sports shop and found Knight Sports, the successful high-end sporting goods company Justin owned. They’d become fast friends once Cam discovered Justin was as crazy about extreme sports as he was.

  “A very special lady.” They both turned to get a better look at Sandy.

  “Special as in you’re interested in her, but she doesn’t feel the same about you?” Justin gave him a you-poor-sap grin.

  “Oh she feels something. I haven’t figured out what it is yet.”

  Cam’s gaze travelled over Sandy. The ankle length red dress hugged her slender curves in a way that let everyone know the body under it was toned and fit.

  “Have mercy,” he muttered as he snagged a champagne flute from a passing waiter and let his attraction for Sandy tug him in to join her little group. They’d finished eating about half hour ago and most of the guests now mingled or populated the dance floor. He would’ve liked to sit next to Sandy while they ate the five-course meal, but he knew someone would out him. For now, he’d rather Sandy didn’t know whom he was.

  “Hi, Cam. Great do.” Daniel slapped him on the back when he joined them. “But I have to tell you, my wife has fallen in love with your—”

  “Do you mind if I steal Sandy away for a dance?” He couldn’t let Daniel finish. Not when he had a pretty good idea what the other man was about to say. He took Sandy’s flute and placed it along with his own on a passing tray, before guiding her to the dance area with a hand on her lower back.

  She stopped halfway to their destination as if only just realising what had happened. “How about asking me if I want to dance with you?”

  She was cute when she was annoyed.

  He gave her his most charming smile. “I’d be very honoured if you would take pity on me, princess, and dance with me.”

  She stepped back. “Sorry, Cameron. My dance card is full.”

  As she took a couple of steps away from him, Cameron felt a desperation he’d never experienced before. If he didn’t get Sandy to spend time with him outside of work, he didn’t stand a chance of moving past colleague status. He wanted her to see him as much more than a co-worker. He wanted it more fiercely than he’d wanted a puppy at six years old.

  “If you dance with me, I’ll give the charity one hundred thousand pounds!”

  Sandy gasped, swung back to face him, and covered her mouth with her hand. In fact, hers wasn’t the only gasp to ring out around the vast marbled room. Regrettable, by the time he’d made the pledge Sandy was halfway back to her friends, making it necessary for Cameron to shout the offer at the moment the band paused between numbers, allowing everyone in the room to witness his desperation.

  Sandy moved her hand from her mouth and placed it on her slender hip. “Are you out of your mind? You can’t make promises like that.”

  He stalked toward her, holding up the index finger on his right hand for emphasis. “One dance, Sandy. I’m good for the money.”

  A few chuckles punctuated the silence while Sandy pinned him with a dagger-glare.

  “That’s peanuts to him,” a male voice yelled, “Make him pay a million.”

  “Hey Cameron, I’ll dance with you for free,” another voice piped up, female this time.

  “Me too!” Several female voices intoned.

  “Thanks, ladies, maybe later. Right now I’m finding it difficult to resist the challenge Mis
s Donovan presents.”

  Someone huffed. “That’s rich men for you, always after a challenge.”

  Cameron stopped inches from Sandy. Close enough to notice the colour pouring into her cheeks. His conscience pricked, he hated that he’d embarrassed her. He took her hands, about to apologise and release her from the spectacle he’d created of them.

  In a low sultry voice, she said, “Make it two hundred thousand, and I’ll dance with you.”

  Forget his intentions, he’d take it.

  “Deal.” Her hands still in his, he tugged her against him, enjoying the blast of awareness that sizzled between them. Locking her in place with an arm around her narrow waist, he waltzed her toward the dais where the band began to play once more. “But for that sort of money, I expect the dance to last five songs.” He twirled her when they got in front of the platform. Unable to resist teasing her, he continued, “It’s only reasonable since I’m going to have to mortgage my entire life to pay for it.”

  She missed a step. A horrified expression changed her features from annoyed to contrite. “Oh, Cam, I’m so sorry. I got caught up in the moment. It was stupid of me to make you agree to so much money in front of all these people.” She glanced around them and worried her bottom lip, her frown so focused her fine brows became one straight line. “No one will hold you to the pledge. I doubt anyone even took it seriously.”

  Sandy’s frown pulled on his heart. Nobody had ever showed him such concern. He liked it. “Do you know how adorable you look when you’re remorseful?”

  “I feel terrible. I don’t know what got into me. I guess I expected you to back down.”

  He twirled her. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you.”

  She gave a small ironic smile. “That’s because there’s no one like me. I’m unique. What are you going to do about all that money?”

  Money meant little to Cameron. He would’ve paid the million if she’d asked. In fact, he couldn’t think of a better project to sink that sort of money into.

  Because Sandy looked far too serious and he wanted to lighten the moment he said, “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll sell some blood, or a limb, maybe even a couple of organs. You don’t need kidneys, right?”

  She swatted his arm. “Cameron.”

  Her tawny gaze reminded him of warm honey. He had a weakness for honey. And he liked the fact she’d smacked him without even noticing. According to Lydia, it meant Sandy liked him.

  “No? Perhaps I’ll ask Daddy. Isn’t that what good trust-fund babies do?” Her lips tightened about the same time she went rigid in his arms. “Hey, I’m kidding.” He ducked his head, trying to capture her gaze as he waggled his brows in a goofball attempt to make her smile.

  Her gaze clashed with his, exasperation sparked from the golden depths. “Since you find it impossible to take anything serious, I’m not surprised you’d joke about finding a way to pay such a large sum of money.”

  That she was concerned enough to get annoyed warmed his heart. To him two hundred thousand pounds wasn’t a lot of money. What would she say if he told her he spent more than that renting a private island for his summer holiday each year?

  Perhaps not a good idea to give her that bit of information, yet. Especially in view of the fact that she was stiff as a piece of wood and stepping on his toes with a zeal that brought a tear to his eye.

  He smiled through the pain, tightened his arm until she was flat against him. He wedged his thigh between hers; made sure her heels couldn’t get anywhere near his toes.

  “Play nice.” He whispered the words next to her ear, rewarded when she gave a tiny shiver and shuddered out a breath.

  “I’ve always thought gold leaf to be the most elegant decorative art.” She blinked with an innocence that almost made him believe she wasn’t aware of his physical reaction to her. If her gaze hadn’t turned to chestnut, he would’ve bought it, too. “How long do you think it took to build this house?”

  He’d play along. He could play innocent as well as she could. “Seven years.”At her look of perplexity, he winked. “I know the guy who owns it.”

  “OF COURSE.” How could she have forgotten this was Cameron’s world? The kind of money it would take to own a house like this belonged to the type of people he played with.

  Old money.

  People like her father...

  Sandy cleared the sorrow for her mother’s wasted life from her throat and concentrated on moving her feet to follow Cameron’s lead. “I must say, you clean up pretty good.”

  He chuckled. “You like the penguin suit, huh?”

  She bit her bottom lip to stop herself from returning his smile as she smoothed her left hand over the black satin shawl lapel. She’d do the small talk, but she wasn’t letting herself relax enough to enjoy his company. “You wear it well.”

  He tipped his head to the side as he considered her with a raised eyebrow. “Is that a grudging compliment?”

  “Not at all. You look very handsome.” She drew in a deep breath. And smelled terrific!

  The citrusy scent invaded her senses, edged her pulse up a few beats, and goosed her skin. She fought the overwhelming sensation to lean in closer to him and take a deep, deep breath.

  Sandy swallowed—hard.

  “Only handsome? Not a debonair, drop-dead gorgeous, James Bond look-alike?”

  He flashed what she could only presume was his take on a debonair grin. It came off cheesy and a little drunk.

  Sandy threw her head back and laughed louder than she would have liked, given their surroundings. Despite every effort, she’d never been able to resist Cameron’s wit. “Okay, you’re suave. Happy now?”

  His smile sobered as he stopped dancing. “Almost.” The intensity in his gaze sent a rush of heat to settle low in her abdomen.

  She glanced around her. A row of life-size statues lined the top of the terrace wall, their shadows casting an effective screen over the walled garden-terrace. Lost in banter with Cameron, she hadn’t noticed him manoeuvring them through the French doors onto the roof terrace.

  “I want to kiss you.” Cameron’s deep voice took on a husky note.

  She held his hungry gaze. Her belly spasmed, and she swallowed hard. The truth was she liked being in Cameron’s arms, enjoyed the sensation of his hard shoulder muscles moving beneath her hand as he guided her around the dance floor.

  Sandy hated to admit how much she loved his intoxicating scent, and the rumble of his laughter vibrating from his chest to hers almost made her forget he was the last man with whom she should get involved.

  He held her so close she was aware of every inch of his body pressed to hers. Aware too, that she affected him on a sensual level as much as he did her. She wanted him to kiss her, and if he weren’t Cameron Berkeley-Scott, rich playboy, she’d be jumping his bones right now.

  Against her will, Sandy’s eyes drifted to half-mast. “That’s not a good idea,” she said on a near-whisper, shamed by the breathless quality to her voice.

  He loosened his hold, took a half step back, allowing her the freedom to leave if she chose. She couldn’t bring herself to pull away, instead shifted her attention to one of the white statues carrying a water jug, in the hope he wouldn’t notice the yearning in her gaze.

  When she made no move to step away, Cameron’s arm closed around her waist again, drawing her to him. He urged her gaze back to his with gentle fingers on her chin, lowered his head until his breath caressed her lips. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

  Quite possibly, it had died with her mother. Sandy straightened her back and pulled out of his embrace, surprised by the lack of real effort needed to separate them. “Where is your sense of decency? We’re work colleagues, Cameron. Nothing more.”

  He tugged his red silk bowtie loose and flipped open the top buttons on his white dress shirt. She’d never seen him look so severe, so controlled. His mouth tightened into a grim line, his eyes—usually sparking with wicked humour—now sparked with blue energy so
imperial, it sent nervous tension skittering through her entire body.

  “I want more.”

  She dropped her gaze, only to have it pulled back to him almost straight away. He wasn’t the type of man she needed in her life. “I can’t give you more.”

  With his hair tousled by the cold night breeze, his tie hanging loose around his neck and top buttons undone, he resembled the debonair spy he’d mentioned earlier. Her stomach did a ridiculous flip, a reminder of how easy he could make her lose herself if she gave him the chance.

  Unable to hold his penetrating gaze, she moved to the wall surrounding the terrace and looked over the top. A shiver that had nothing to do with the October chill passed through her. Had her mother experienced this light-headed sensation when she’d climbed onto the ledge of that building in Prague? Sandy swallowed around the lump in her throat—she’d never let a man do that to her.

  Cameron came up behind her. He covered her shoulders with his jacket in a gesture so caring it forced the tears she’d been fighting as she’d thought of her mum, to her eyes.

  He didn’t remove his hands from her shoulders. “Why can’t you, Sandy?” he asked on a low voice snatched away by the breeze. If he weren’t standing so close, she would have missed his words. “I know you want me as much as I want you. We’ve been dancing around this attraction for three years, and while I enjoy the flirting and sexy wordplay, I’m ready to move to the next level.”

  “There isn’t a ‘next level’. What we have can never go anywhere.”

  He turned her to face him. “Why?”

  She dropped her gaze to their feet. Her strappy red high-heels were only a couple of inches from his shiny black dress shoes. “Because it can’t.” Even to herself, she sounded defeated.

  “It can’t or you won’t let it?”

  She moistened her lips, raised her gaze back to his. “It’s the same thing.”

  His eyes, dark with desire, dropped to her mouth. “I disagree.” He held her chin with one hand while his other hand stroked her cheek. “Can’t suggests something outside of your control stops you. Won’t implies internal conflict. Which is it, Sandy? What’s really stopping you?”