Page 25 of Forbidden Heat

Late-Night Activities

I supposetwenty people is pretty small for a dinner party. My parents aren’t the party type, so I’m not used to it. However, I now know that the dining room Cameron and I usually eat in is not the official, formal dining room. That one’s big enough for a hundred guests.

When I asked Cam if he thought he’d ever use it, he said, “You never know,” with an odd expression on his face that I couldn’t decipher. I’ve gotten to where I can usually read him pretty well.

Since the day he came home and ravished me so expertly, I’ve spent every night in his bed. And parts of some mornings and afternoons, too. The more I have of him, the more I want. He seems to feel the same way.

I look around the table. Most of the guests are people Cameron knows from his work; a few clients, a few colleagues. He and I aren’t sitting at opposite ends of the table from each other, which strikes me as a weird and unfortunate feature of events like these.

Down toward his end of the table are his parents. I freaked out a little when he told me they were coming; I thought surely they wouldn’t approve of me. His response was only somewhat comforting.

“They don’t approve of quite a few things in my life,” he said. “What I do for a living, for instance. The fact that I have a job at all, instead of living off the interest from investments.

“So it’s entirely possible that they won’t approve of you either. Please believe me when I say it doesn’t matter. I’ve never lived my life according to their dictates, and I never will.”

They were cool to me when we were introduced, but perhaps they’re that way with everyone. I’m trying to take Cam’s words to heart and not bother myself about them.

To my right is Cameron’s guest of honor, a man named Hunter Drake. (From the reactions of some of the guests, I gather that Cam dispensed with some of the usual rules for the seating arrangement.) To Hunter’s right, opposite me, is his wife Lily.

She’s around my age, while Hunter is close to Cameron’s age. They’ve both been very friendly to me, and I’m grateful that we’re seated near each other. I’ve kept up my social obligations with the man to my left, an older gentleman who used to work with Cam, but most of my conversation is with the Drakes.

Sometimes, the way they look at each other makes me wonder. It’s nothing I can put my finger on, just something in the air that’s somehow familiar. And then Hunter says, “You’re looking lovely tonight, Mrs. Drake.”

Lily smiles at him. “Why, thank you, Mr. Drake. You’re looking quite handsome yourself.”

“Did you remember to put the milk away before we left?”

“Did I?” She makes a thoughtful face that strikes me as entirely contrived. “I really can’t remember. It’s possible I forgot.”

Hunter makes a small tsking sound. “You mustn’t be so forgetful, Mrs. Drake.”

Her eyes sparkle. “It is a terrible fault of mine, Mr. Drake.”

It’s their obvious enjoyment that tips it for me: They’re staging a scene. Lily is going to be in trouble when she gets home, whether the milk she left out is real or imaginary.

Another couple who play the same games as Cameron and I … my mind suddenly flashes back to the conversation we had that day in the dining room, about exhibitionism. About me being spanked with an audience.

It’s all too easy to picture that happening with the Drakes watching.

I stare intently at my soup, lest my thoughts show on my face. It doesn’t help; now that the notion’s in my mind, I can’t seem to get rid of it. There’s a buzz in my head and I feel almost dizzy.

“Haley?” Hunter says. “Are you all right?”

“Excuse me.” I stand abruptly and lay my napkin down. “I’ll be right back.”

I don’t dare look Cameron’s way as I hurry from the room and make my way to the nearest bathroom. A splash of cold water helps cool my face. I’m gripping the sink, trying to collect myself, when the door opens and Lily slips in.

“I hope I’m not intruding, but we were worried about you.” She comes to me. “I’m afraid we might have upset you.”

“No, it’s not that. I just had an -- unexpected thought.”

Lily hesitates. “Hunter told me that he and Cameron are … alike in certain ways.”

“Yes.” I know she needs more, so I pull myself together and meet her eyes. “I can’t leave the milk out because the staff would put it away, but maybe I can put salt in his coffee or something.”

“That would do it,” she says, laughing. “But you’re sure it wasn’t us who, um, set you off?”

“It wasn’t you. Not directly. We’d better get back; but sometime, when circumstances are better suited to private conversation, I’ll tell you about it.”

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