But he needed to get Sophia Nicolaides off his case and taking Violet was the way to do it. Sophia was too crafty to spot a fake. He couldn’t bring someone he’d only just met to the dinner. It had to be someone he already felt comfortable with and her with him. Violet was shy around him, but then, she was shy around most people. It was part of her charm, the fact that she didn’t flaunt her assets or draw attention to herself. He’d been upfront about the fact it wasn’t a date and he was sure she too wouldn’t want to compromise the friendship that had built up over the years.
At least they’d got the first kiss out of the way.
And what a kiss. Who knew that sweet little mouth could wreak such havoc on his self-control? He would have to watch himself. Violet wasn’t street smart like the women he normally dated. She wasn’t the sleep-around type. He wondered if she was still a virgin. Not likely since she was close to thirty, but who knew for sure? It wasn’t exactly a question he’d feel comfortable asking her. It was none of his business.
Cam ran his tongue over his lips and tasted her. Even if he never kissed her again, it was going to take a long time to forget that kiss.
If he ever did.
* * *
Violet tried on seven different outfits until she finally settled on a navy-blue velvet dress that fell just above the knee. It reminded her of the colour of Cam’s unusual eyes. Maybe that was why you bought it? No. Of course not. She’d bought it because she liked it. It suited her. She loved the feel of the fabric against her skin. She slipped her feet into heels and turned to view her reflection in the cheval mirror.
Her flatmate, Amy, popped her head around the door. ‘Gosh, you look scrumptious. I love that colour on you. Are you going out?’
Violet smoothed the front of her dress over her stomach and thighs, turning this way and that to check if she had visible panty line. No. All good. ‘You don’t think it’s too...plain?’
‘It’s simple but elegant,’ Amy said, perching on the end of Violet’s bed. ‘So who’s the guy? Have I met him? No, of course I haven’t because you’ve never brought anyone here, that I know of.’
Violet slipped on some pearl drop earrings her parents had given her for her twenty-first birthday. ‘He’s a friend of my brother’s. I’ve known him for ages.’ And he kisses like a sex god and my body is still humming with desire hours later.
Amy’s eyes danced. ‘Ooh! A friends-to-lovers thing. How exciting.’
Violet sent her a quelling look. ‘Don’t get your hopes up. I’m not his type.’ Cam couldn’t have been more succinct. ‘Kissing is all we’ll do.’ She hadn’t turned him on... Well, she had, but clearly not enough that he wanted to take things further.
The doorbell sounded and Amy jumped off the bed. ‘I’ll get it. I want to check out your date to see if he passes muster. Flat twenty-three B has certain standards, you know.’
Violet came out a few seconds later to see Amy giving an impression of a star-struck teen in front of a Hollywood idol. Violet had to admit Cam looked heart-stoppingly fabulous in a suit. He wasn’t the designer-wear type, but the sharp tailoring of his charcoal-grey suit fitted his tall frame to perfection and the white dress shirt and blue and grey striped tie highlighted the tanned and healthy tone of his skin and the intense blue of his eyes.
Cam’s gaze met Violet’s and a tiny invisible fist punched her in the stomach.
‘You look stunning.’ The deep huskiness of his voice was like a caressing stroke down the entire length of her spine. The way his eyes dipped to her lipgloss-coated mouth made her relive every pulse-racing second of that kiss. Was he remembering it too? How it had felt to have their tongues intimately entwined? How it had felt to taste each other, to feel each other’s response? How it had felt to end it without the satiation both their bodies craved?
Violet brushed an imaginary strand of hair off her face. ‘This is one of my flatmates, Amy Kennedy. Amy, this is Cameron McKinnon, a friend from way back.’
When Cam took Amy’s hand, Violet thought her flatmate was going to fall into a swoon. ‘Pleased to meet you,’ he said.
Amy’s cheeks were bright pink and her mouth seemed to be having trouble closing. ‘Same.’
Violet picked up her coat and Cam stood behind her and helped her into it. His body was so close she could feel its warmth and smell that intriguing blend of his aftershave. He briefly rested his hands on the tops of her shoulders before stepping away. While he was facing the other way, Amy gave her the thumbs-up sign, eyes bright with excitement. Violet picked up her purse and followed Cam to the door.
‘Have a good time!’ Amy’s voice had a sing-song quality to it that made Violet feel like a teen going out on her first date.
Cam led her to his car, parked a few metres down the rain-slicked street. ‘How many flatmates do you have?’
‘Two. Amy and Stefanie.’
Violet slipped into the plush leather seat of his showroom-perfect convertible. There was no way she could ever imagine a couple of kids’ seats in the back. His car was like his lifestyle—free and fast. Not that he was a hardened playboy or anything. But he was hardly a monk. He was a healthy man of thirty-four, in the prime of his life. Why wouldn’t he make the most of his freedom? How many women had experienced that divine mouth? That gorgeous body and all the sensual delights it promised?
Probably more than she wanted to think about.
‘I’m sorry about Amy back there,’ Violet said after they were on the move. ‘She can be a bit over the top.’
Cam glanced her way. ‘Did I pass the test?’
Violet could feel an annoying blush creeping over her cheeks. ‘The girls have a checklist for potential dates. No smokers, no heavy drinkers, no drugs, no tattoos. Must be gainfully employed, must respect women, must wear a condom... I mean during...you know...not at the time of meeting... That would be ridiculous.’
Cam’s deep laugh made the base of her spine quiver. ‘Good to know I tick all the boxes.’
Violet swivelled in her seat to look at him. ‘So what’s on your checklist?’
He appeared to think about it for a moment or maybe it was because he was concentrating on the traffic snarl ahead. ‘Nothing specific. Intelligence is always good, a sense of humour.’
‘Looks?’
He gave a lip shrug. ‘Not as important as other qualities.’
‘But you’ve only ever dated incredibly beautiful women. I’ve seen photos of them. Fraser showed me.’
‘Mere coincidence.’
Violet snorted. ‘Well-to-do men are selective when choosing a lover. Women, in general, are much more accepting over looks. It’s a well-known fact.’
‘What are you looking for in a partner?’
Violet looked at her hands where they were clutching her purse. ‘I guess I want what my parents have—a partner who loves me despite my faults and is there for me no matter what.’
‘Your parents are a tough act to follow.’
She let out a long sigh. ‘Tell me about it.’
* * *
The dinner was at a restaurant in Soho. Cam’s client