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Torpedo: A Second Chance Romance by Joanna Blake (44)

Camille

The stupid man was going to drive me insane!

How he could sit there, calmly eating his sorbet when we had just- we had almost- he had- ooohhhhh! I was so mad, I could scream!

He flicked his cool blue eyes at me and smiled faintly, as if we had a secret. We did not have a secret! We had a moment of temporary insanity!

At least, I had.

I caught myself staring at his lips as he pulled the spoon from his mouth. He was nodding and agreeing with my father. I exhaled in relief. He hadn't seen me.

The next time I looked up, he winked.

Damn it! He had seen me. I started thinking of reasons to excuse myself when my father suggested we go back into the library for a brandy. I followed them mulishly, wanting to cut and run. But it would have been rude, and I didn't want to let Cade know he'd gotten to me.

I ended up nursing a drink and sitting in the window seat. It was my favorite spot in the whole house. I'd spent much of my formative years curled up here, doing homework, reading and surfing the web. I knew the financial blogs like the back of my hand, and still checked them regularly.

I stared out at the night sky, doing my best to ignore Cade. I could feel it every time he looked at me though. It was warm, like a blast of warmth against my shoulder. The side of my face. My feet where they peaked out from under the edge of my skirt.

It felt like the sun.

"I have an idea."

"What's that?"

"Tennis."

"Come again?"

"Camille is handy with a racket. I'm not. We could have an exhibition match."

"She's more than handy. She could have been a competitive player, but she had no interest in spending that much time on any one thing. Except money of course. My girl loves money."

My father laughed but my mind was reeling. Cade wasn't going to let this go. He was going to keep pecking away at me until I cracked.

I stared at my reflection in the dark window, feeling my stomach clench. I tried to sound bored by the idea. But in reality I could feel myself softening to him, and I didn't like it.

"No one wants to see me play tennis."

"I do."

I almost jumped at the warm intimacy in his voice. My father was right there! He was going to notice something was up sooner or later.

Then again, he wasn't going to fire his prize player because he played footsie with his only daughter. Harrison Rivers wasn't like that. He was a man's man.

Not to say that he didn't love me. He did, if only in an abstract way. But I wasn't a boy. If I had been born male, I was pretty sure he'd love me a whole lot more.

Especially if I played ball a fraction as well as Cade did.

My father had grown up in a lower middle-class family. He had worked hard, and believed in the 'American Dream.' A big part of that was baseball. To this day, he was never happier than during a tight game with a hot dog in one fist and a beer in the other.

Of course, now his hot dogs were made of grass fed organic beef from a private ranch he owned himself. My father went there once a year and petted the damn cows, who were treated well and slaughtered humanely. But that was beside the point.

He was an almost stereotypical American man in a lot of ways. He was proud of his sameness. I sighed. I had grown up so differently. I was nothing like him, other than the smart and ruthless parts. But I loved him anyway.

Maybe it made me love him even more.

Too bad he didn't seem to feel the same.

"Well, I'm going to bed. I'll leave you two to sort out the details."

"Goodnight Father."

I bussed his cheek and waited for his footsteps on the stairs before I turned my attention to Cade. Not my attention. My fury. He had to learn that I was not up for grabs. Even if I had sort of liked it when he grabbed me.

Once, however, was more than enough.

Cade sat in his chair by the fire, staring at me. There was a slumberous look in his eyes that was doing strange things to my stomach. He looked like he was in bed.

With me.

I stood up and looked down at him with what I hoped was a very unfriendly look on my face.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to discuss any future fundraising events over email."

"Camille…"

His voice was so husky that it stopped me in my tracks.

"Don't go."

"Why? So you can maul me again?"

He didn't say anything for a minute. I stood there as his eyes drifted over me. I gasped at the raw intimacy in his face.

Then he put down his drink and smiled at me.

"How about a friendly game of cards?"

I tilted my head, considering my options. I could go up to bed and stare at the ceiling all night, trying to ignore the strange pull he had over me. Or I could sit down, and see this out. If I could figure out what the fascination was, I could end it once and for all.

Hopefully teaching him a little humility in the process.

"Fine. Five card stud."

He raised his eyebrows at me. I walked over to one of the cabinets and pulled out a deck of cards and a chip dolly. Then I sat across from him and started to shuffle the cards. If he thought I was going to be a pushover at cards, he had another thing coming.

I had an excellent poker face.

"What are the stakes?"

"I don't want to play for money."

I gave him a look. I had a feeling I knew what he was going to say, before he even said it. I felt my whole body get warm, just at the idea that he would dare.

"If I win, you let me… what did you call it?"

I swallowed nervously. He leaned forward and braced his fingers together.

"Maul you."

I almost stood up. He was being outrageous. I couldn't deny the flutter in my belly at the thought.

"I'm not going to bed with you Cade. Just forget it."

He leaned back.

"Who said anything about a bed?"

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