Male bodies.
Bodies that were much bigger and stronger and more powerful than hers—especially when they were drunk...
Violet blinked away the memory. She hardly ever thought about that party these days. Well, only now and again. She had come to a fragile sort of peace over it. The self-blame had eased even if the lingering shame had not.
But she was nearly thirty and it was time to move on. More than time. Which meant going to the Christmas party to prove to herself she was back in control of her life.
However, there was the agony of deciding what to wear. Her accountancy firm’s Christmas party was considered one of the premier events in the financial sector’s calendar. It wasn’t just a drinks and nibbles affair. It was an annual gala with champagne flowing like a fountain and Michelin star quality food and dancing to a live band. Every year there was a theme and everyone was expected to be part of the action to demonstrate their commitment to office harmony. This year’s theme was A Star-Struck Christmas. Which would mean Violet would have to find something Hollywoodish to wear. She wasn’t good at glamour. She didn’t like drawing attention to herself. She wasn’t good at partying full stop.
Violet slipped the invitation between the pages of her book and sighed. Even the London lunchtime café crowd was rubbing in her singleton status. Everyone was a couple. She was the only person sitting on her own. Even a couple pushing ninety were at the table in the window and they were holding hands. That would be her parents in thirty years. Still with the magic buzzing between them as it had from the first moment they’d met. Just like her three siblings with their perfect partners. Building their lives together, having children and doing all the things she dreamed of doing.
Violet had watched each of her siblings fall in love. Fast-living Fraser first, racy Rose next and then laid-back Lily. Been to each of their weddings. Been a bridesmaid three times. Three times. Groan. She was always in the audience watching romance develop and blossom, but she longed to be on the stage.
Why couldn’t she find someone perfect for her?
Was there something wrong with her? Guys occasionally asked her out but it never went past a date or two. Her natural shyness didn’t make for scintillating conversation and she had no idea how to flirt... Well, she did if she had a few drinks but that was a mistake she was not going to repeat. The problem was that men were so impatient these days, or maybe they always had been that way. But she was not going to sleep with someone just because it was expected of her...or because she was too drunk to say no. She wanted to feel attracted to a man and to feel his attraction to her. To feel frissons of red-hot desire scoot all over her flesh at his touch. To melt when his gaze met hers. To shiver with delight when he pressed his lips to hers.
Not that too many male lips had been pressed to hers lately. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been really kissed by a man. Pecks on the cheek from her father and brother or grandfather didn’t count.
Violet was rubbish at the dating game. Rubbish. Rubbish. Rubbish. She was going to end up an old and wrinkled spinster living with a hundred and fifty-two cats. With a chest of drawers full of exquisitely embroidered baby clothes for the babies she had longed for since she was a little girl.
‘Is this seat taken?’
Violet glanced up at the familiar deep baritone voice, a faint shiver coursing down her spine when her gaze connected with her older brother’s best friend from university.
‘Cam?’ Her voice came out like the sound of a squeaky toy, an annoying habit she hadn’t been able to correct since first meeting Cameron McKinnon. She had been eighteen when her brother brought Cam home for the summer—or at least the Scottish version of it—to their family’s estate, Drummond Brae, in the Highlands. ‘What are you doing here? How are you? Fraser told me you’ve been living in Greece designing a yacht for someone super-rich. How’s it all going? When did you get back?’
Shut up! Funny, but she was never lost for words around Cam. She talked too much. She couldn’t seem to help it nor could she explain it. He wasn’t intimidating or threatening in any way. He was polite, if a little aloof, but he had been a part of her family for long enough for her to get over herself.
But clearly she hadn’t got over herself.
Cam pulled out the chair opposite and sat down, his knees gently bumping against Violet’s underneath the table. The touch was like an electric current moving through her body, heating her in places that had no business being heated. Not by her brother’s best friend. Cam was out of her league. Way out.
‘I was in the area for a meeting. It finished early and I remembered you mentioning this café once so thought I’d check it out,’ he said. ‘I’ve only been back a couple of days. My father is getting remarried just before Christmas.’
Violet’s eyes widened to the size of the saucer under her skinny latte. ‘Again? How many times is that now? Three? Four?’
His mouth twisted. ‘Five. And there’s another baby on the way, which brings the total of halfsiblings to six, plus the seven step-siblings, so eleven all together.’
Violet thought her three nephews, two nieces and the baby in the making were a handful—she couldn’t imagine eleven. ‘How on earth do you keep track of all of their birthdays?’
His half smile looked a little weary around the edges. ‘I’ve set up automatic transfers via online banking. Takes the guesswork out.’
‘Maybe I should do that.’ Violet stirred her coffee for something to do with her hands. Being in Cam’s company—not that it happened much these days—always made her feel like a gauche schoolgirl in front of a college professor. He was an unusual counterpoint to her older brother who was a laugh a minute, life of the party type. Cam was more serious in nature with a tendency to frown rather than smile.
Her gaze drifted towards his mouth—another habit she couldn’t quite control when she was around him. His lips were fairly evenly sculpted, although the lower one had a slightly more sensual fullness to it that made her think of long, blood-heating, pulse-racing kisses.
Not that Violet had ever kissed him. Men like Cameron McKinnon didn’t kiss girls like her. She was too girl-next-door. He dated women who looked as if they had just stepped out of a photo shoot. Glamorous, sophisticated types who could hold their own in any company without breaking out in hives in case someone spoke to them.
Cam’s gaze briefly went to her bare left hand where she was cradling her coffee before coming back to hers in a keenly focused look that made something deep in her belly unfurl like a flower opening its petals to the sun.
‘So, how are things with you, Violet?’
‘Erm...okay.’ At least she wasn’t breaking out into hives, but the blush she could feel crawling over her cheeks was almost as bad. Was he thinking—like the rest of her family—Three times a bridesmaid, never a bride?
‘Only okay?’ His look had a serious note to it, a combination of concern and concentration, as if she were the only person he wanted to talk to right then. It was one of the things Violet liked about him—one of the many things. He wasn’t so full of himself that he couldn’t spare the time to listen. She often wondered if he’d been around to talk to after that wretched party, during her first and only year at university, her life might not have turned out the way it had.
Violet stretched her mouth into her standard everything-is-cool-with-me smile. ‘I’m fine. Just busy with work and Christmas shopping and stuff. Like you, I have a lot of people to buy for now with all my nephews and nieces. Did you know Lily and Cooper are expecting? Mum and Dad are planning the usual big Christmas at Drummond Brae. Has Mum invited you? She said she was going to. The doctors think it will be Grandad’s last Christmas so we’re all making an effort to be there for him.’
Cam’s