Page 29 of Cold Feet
"Besides," Cam continued, his voice dropping to a more intimate register, "wouldn't it be nice to have a weekend away from the rink? Just us, the beach, maybe a sunset or two..."
The band began playing a slow ballad, and without waiting for my response, Cam took my hand in his. "Dance with me?"
"Yes, I just..." I trailed off, my heart pounding traitorously in my chest as Cam's gaze held mine. I did not want to argue in front of my parents, my bosses, or the Redline executives, so I let him lead me to the dance floor, where other couples were already swaying to the music. His arm slid around my waist, drawing me close until we were heart to heart. His hand held mine against his heartbeat.
The solid warmth of him surrounded me, the scent of his cologne making my knees weak. Had he always smelled this good, or was this some new torture specifically designed to make me lose my mind?
"You're staring at my neck," Cam whispered, a smile in his voice.
"Just making sure your tie is straight," I lied, quickly looking up to meet his eyes. Big mistake. The amusement dancing in those ocean blues was worse than the cologne.
"My tie has been straight for four hours," he murmured, his thumb now making small, devastating circles against my lower back. "But please, feel free to keep checking."
I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore how perfectly we fit together, how his body seemed to remember mine from that one night so long ago.
"Where'd you get your dance moves?" I asked. "From all those models from your calendar shoots?"
His eyebrow shot up. "You've seen my calendar?"
"It was research," I said primly.
"Thorough research, I hope," he replied, pulling me a fraction closer. "Did you spend extra time on August? That's the one where I'm shirtless on the beach with just a hockey stick."
I nearly tripped over my own feet. "There is no August beach photo."
"Gotcha." His grin was downright wicked. "But now I know for sure you looked through the whole thing."
Heat flooded my cheeks. "That's just good PR."
"Sure it is, Cupcake Queen."
When he spun me, the movement was so smooth and controlled it felt like flying, I couldn't help the small gasp that escaped my lips.
"See? Not so bad," he murmured against my ear, his breath sending a tingle that worked its way down my neck and was now pooling low between my thighs.
"Not bad at all, Murphy," I admitted, my voice embarrassingly breathy. I could feel the rumble of his chuckle against my chest, the vibration doing absolutely nothing to help my composure.Keep it together.
"You look exquisite tonight, Lana," Cam said, his voice low and intimate. His eyes traced over my face like he was memorizing it. "But then, you always do."
"Flattery will get you nowhere, Hitman," I said, trying to sound unaffected while my body was actively staging a full rebellion.
He leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "Is that a challenge, Ms. Decker?"
My breath hitched, and I swore my heart was pounding so hard he must feel it. "Maybe it is."
His eyes darkened, and for a moment, I thought he might kiss me right there on the dance floor. I found myself tilting my chin up, just slightly, an involuntary invitation I wasn't ready to acknowledge. I snapped it back down to my clavicle in self-defense.
"Game on, then," he murmured, his voice filled with promise. But instead of kissing me, his hand slid just a fraction lower on my back, still perfectly appropriate but somehow infinitely more intimate.
"You realize what you've done, right?" I asked quietly, desperate to break the tension. "A whole weekend with my family. They'll expect us to be..."
"Happy? In love?" His mouth curved in a smile that sent my stomach into a triple axel. "I think I can manage that. The question is, can you handle me for a whole weekend, Decker?"
"I manage you every single day of my professional life," I countered.
"But this is different," he said. "This weekend, you have to pretend you actually like me."
"Who says I'm pretending?" The words slipped out before I could stop them.
