Page 52 of All the Drama from New York

Ryan disappeared back upstairs to the studio. When he returned a few minutes later, a soft smile sat on his lips. “I got us two weeks. I figured you might need longer than a couple of days to start coming up with new concepts, and a week wouldn’t be enough.”

That he’d actually considered how her design process might work had Camille swallowing down a lump of unexpected emotion. Hope had always done what she’d been asked, but rarely offered up her own opinion.

She liked how Ryan had made it his business to think beyond the boundaries of his job description. He was making himself indispensable.

Us. He said us.

Camille pushed that thought away. It would be the height of stupidity to start thinking that Ryan might want to stay on after the end of his contract.

Or that he might be starting to have the same feelings about her that she did for him. The same soul deep attraction.

This is a work trip, not a vacation. We need more boundaries.

“Thanks Ryan. Two weeks sounds great. Though of course I don’t expect you to stay beyond Friday afternoon on any of those weeks. I’ll make sure you are able to get back to the city by Friday night, and then you’ll have your weekend all to yourself.”

His brows knitted in obvious confusion. “Why wouldn’t you want me to stay over on the weekend?”

Because the thought of you and I in a secluded beach house is giving me all sorts of stupid and wild ideas.

“You have your life. I shouldn’t ask for you to give up all of your free time just for me. If I have my design books, some muslin, and the dressmakers dummy at the house, I’ll be more than happy to work on my own.”

He held her gaze for a long moment. The chuckle which escaped his lips went straight to her sex.

“No you won’t. You’ll be thoroughly miserable, and wishing I was with you.”

She went to protest, but he pressed his finger gently to her lips. “Let’s not talk about sending me home from the beach. I’m staying the whole two weeks, end of discussion.”

It took all her strength not to open her lips and brush her tongue on his fingertip. As Ryan took a step back, Camille dropped her gaze to the floor.

She searched the pattern of the living room rug for answers, but nothing came. It was no surprise. She doubted the universe could solve the problem she was about to face head on.

How was she going to spend the next two weeks with Ryan—her old reality tv crush turned real–life fantasy—and not make a complete fool of herself?

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

A sleek black town car was waiting for them outside the building early the following morning. Leaning casually against the curbside passenger door was a red headed woman, who waved at Ryan as he stepped through the front door.

“Good morning, Ryan, all ready to go?” she said. Her Scottish accent gave her away. It was Sheila. Bryce’s executive assistant.

Before he could stop her, she had wrapped her arms around him and placed a kiss on his cheek. “You are a brave laddie, I’ll give you that. No one else has been able to get Camille out of the city for a wee vacation since the day she arrived. You managing to talk her into spending two weeks on an island is a bloody miracle.”

Camille, who was following close behind Ryan, simply shook her head. “Just tell me you have all of the emergency services on speed dial.”

She set the dressmakers dummy she’d been carrying down onto the sidewalk. Ryan caught the odd looks the mannequin got from a few of pedestrians who passed them by.

Hey, this is New York, I’m sure you’ve all seen stranger things on the street.

He certainly had.

He’d barely stepped out of Sheila’s embrace before she and Camille had launched themselves into one another’s arms. Ryan watched with amusement as they proceeded to engage in some European cheek kissing, laughing as they did.

“Don’t worry Camille, we have your medical records on file. The second you so much as break a fingernail we will have doctors scrambled for action.”

He turned his head and tried not to laugh. From his phone calls and emails with Sheila, Ryan had quickly gathered she didn’t have much of a filter. Bryce’s executive assistant spoke her mind. She was blunt. But she was also clever and quick witted.

A grinning Camille patted Sheila on the cheek. “Good. And make sure you have blood donors ready.”

Watching these two women and their playful exchange warmed Ryan’s heart. He got a glimpse of the Camille he suspected lay beneath her overworked exterior.

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