Camille

“Would you like something to drink?” I lean against the kitchen counter as Ronan stands before me.

Never in my life did I imagine that someday the son of the President of the United States of America would be hanging out in our tiny little kitchen in Oakdale.

But here he is.

In the flesh.

Looking like he could still jump my bones despite the graveness of this situation.

My mom is going to freak out when she comes home.

“No, thank you. Where can we go to talk?” He looks so handsome today in his creamy cashmere sweater with the button down and tie sticking up at the collar. Ronan couldn’t dress down if he tried.

I feel silly in my pajamas. I should’ve changed, but the second he left, all I could do was sit paralyzed by the living room window with my cellphone in my shaking hands.

“Yeah.” I motion for him to follow me down to the family room. The house is a mess. Mom’s slight hoarder tendencies, coupled with the fact that she was always too busy working to pick up the house on a regular basis, have given our house a permanent cluttered, if not homey, feel over the years. “Sit wherever you’d like.”

He glances at our sagging plaid sofas before perching on the end of one. I reach for the remote on the coffee table, shutting off the episode of Judge Judy playing in the background.

If Ronan is judging the surroundings, he does a good job of hiding his true feelings, and I appreciate the courtesy.

“So what’s next, Ronan?” I ask, clapping my hands across my lap. “Where do we go from here? And what kind of target am I going to have on my back when the powers that be find out I’m harboring President Montgomery’s son in my basement?”

“This past weekend.” He clears his throat. “Something changed in me.”

I sink into the sofa across from him, hooking my arm around the edge and picking at a loose thread. I need to keep my hands busy to distract myself from the fluttering in my chest.

“I felt free with you,” he says, “in a way I’ve never felt with anyone before. You’re easy to be around, Camille. You’re playful and genuine and sexy.”

My chin tucks as a warm blush covers my cheeks. If any other man said those words to me, I’d smile and graciously thank him, barely giving myself a chance to let them sink in. But they feel different coming from him.

“I’m not saying I fell in love with you,” he says. “But I’m saying I probably could if I let myself. And that says a lot, because I don’t even fucking believe in love. And I know you don’t either. But tell me you felt it. Tell me you felt that spark of something so real it terrified you.”

I did. I felt it. And I shoved it so deep down inside me it couldn’t possibly see the light of day.

“I don’t know what’s real or what’s not anymore,” I protest.

“Don’t lie to me, Camille.” The hollow above his jaw tenses. “Did you feel something this weekend?”

“I enjoyed my time with you.”

He releases a hard breath, his nostrils flaring and our eyes locking.

“Why the resistance?” he asks, rising and moving closer. Within seconds, he stands before me, taking my hands in his and pulling me up.

“At the end of the day, we had a business arrangement,” I say. “It’s natural, when you spend time together the way we did, for feelings to develop. Sometimes they’re confusing. But if there’s anything I’ve learned in the last few years, it’s that they’re never real. If you give them enough time, they eventually fade away.”

“I don’t want this to fade away.” The smooth roll of his words makes my stomach tingle. “I knew you were special when I first saw you, and I’ll admit it was the outside that caught my eye. But now that I know the inside, Camille . . .”

His hand beneath my chin brings my lips to his. A soft kiss preludes his fingers in my hair, and I’m as weightless as I’ve ever been . . .

“You’re the most genuine woman I’ve ever met, and I’ve barely scratched your surface,” he says.

As weightless as I’ll ever be . . .

“My future was mapped out until you came along. Every moment in my life was painstakingly planned and controlled by my mother, even when I didn’t always realize it. I thought I knew what I wanted.” He pulls in a loaded sigh. “And now, all I know is I no longer want to be burdened by the Montgomery name and everything that entails.”

“What are you going to do? Denounce your throne?” I half-kid.

“I know my mother better than anyone else.” He holds my face in his hand. “And I’m going to end this the only way I know how.”

I release a puff of breath. “How? Cut her off at the source? That woman has power, Ronan. I’m not sure how you’ll be able to stop her from doing what she’s inevitably going to do.”

“I have an idea.” His eyes squint softly and release. “Do you trust me, Camille?”

I stare into his calming blue gaze and nod. “I trust you.”