“Never say that I wasn’t a giving and festive boss,” he said, sitting down. He raised his glass to hers. “A votre santé.”
“Cheers,” she said, clinking her glass against his.
They both took a sip. Cam laughed at the sweet taste of hers, and at the bubbles that tickled her nose.
“Alright,” he said, taking a piece of baguette and digging in.
“Alright,” she echoed, setting down her glass and doing the same.
She put some ham and brie on her baguette. She bit into it, then moaned.
“Oh my god,” she said between bites. “It’s so good! The brie is really creamy.”
“You should try the butter,” he said, offering it to her.
She laughed. “You’re trying to make me fat!”
“Hey, I’m just offering,” he said. He eyed her. “Besides, putting on a couple pounds wouldn’t kill you.”
“What?” she said. “I’m your executive assistant. You’re supposed to encourage me to be thin. It makes you look more powerful.”
He cracked up. “Is that right?”
“I think so.”
“Mmmm,” he murmured. “No comment.”
She sipped some champagne and looked at him. Seeing him at ease and smiling was odd, after he’d tried to seduce the flight attendant and then called her unprofessional for kissing him. On top of all that, he’d given her the cold shoulder since they got here and compelled her to work from dawn to dusk.
“You’ve been really hard to work for this week,” she said, taking another bite of her baguette.
His chewing slowed. He swallowed, then nodded.
“I know. I’ve been a bastard.”
He stuck another piece of bread in his mouth, watching her.
“Is it because of your father?” she asked, canting her head. “He seems to think that pushing us closer together is a good idea.”
Smith slowly nodded. “That’s part of it, yeah. It seems wise to keep you at arm’s length.”
She toyed with her wine glass, making a face.
“Because we were together?” she asked.
“Because—” he said, then paused to pull his thoughts together. “Because I grew up in this rich kid bubble, where I got everything I wanted. And I went into the military to cure that, to experience the opposite of that. Deprivation.” He ran his hand through his hair. “My father tricked me into leaving the Special Air Service. So I’m doing this job, and trying to dodge the traps he’s set for me, the easy life he thinks I should have.”
He took a breath, then looked her right in the eye.
“You’re part of that, I’m afraid,” he finished softly.
Cam shifted in her seat, taken aback by his honest revelation.
“Oh,” she said. “I mean… oh.”
“I’m sorry if I was a complete bastard this week.”
He looked forlorn.
“It’s forgotten,” she said. “As long as you’re nicer to me from now on.”
He nodded. She felt a moment of inspiration.
“Hey. How about we just… start over?” she asked. “As if it’s the first time we’ve laid eyes on one another.”
His mouth kicked up on one side.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Here. Hi, I’m Cam. Cameron. I’m from Massachusetts originally. And I like punk rock music and working to make my loft more habitable.”
He extended his hand and took hers. A fission of energy skittered across her skin, but she ignored it.
“Hi. I’m Smith. I’m from London originally. I was in the military, now I’m not. I like punk, too.”
She grinned as they shook hands for another second, then she withdrew her hand.
“See?” she said. “Perfectly civil.”
He grinned, his dark hair falling in his eyes. She wasn’t going to swoon over that, though. She jumped up.
“Let’s go,” she said. “Bring the champagne bottle. We can drink while we walk.”
He picked up the champagne bottle. She made quick work of the tray, disposing of everything but the glasses.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Of course.”
“Which way is the glass pyramid thing that I see every time someone mentions the Louvre?”
Smith pointed. She headed that direction, walking slowly.
They didn’t talk much, just enjoyed the sights and the bottle of champagne. They made it a couple of blocks before she finished it off.
“Ah, well…” she sighed, throwing it in the first bin she saw.
Cam turned back to him to ask a question, but he surprised her by sliding his hand behind her head. He kissed her fiercely. She was shocked at first, her hand hitting his chest. But his lips were firm and warm against hers, his scent in her nose.
She caved. Her hand grasped the lapel of his jacket as she pulled herself closer. Her breasts brushed against his chest. He gripped her hair and she let out a gasp, then kissed him harder.
She knew that she shouldn’t be doing this, but a part of her whispered, So what? Be naughty for once in your life.
At length, he broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against hers.
“I wish we were near the hotel,” he whispered. “And I wish this wasn’t so…”
He stopped and shook his head. She smiled.
“Wrong?” she suggested. “That’s usually what they say about employer-employee relationships.”
He laughed, stepping back. “That’s one way to put it.”
She looked at him for a moment, standing there so tall and handsome. He’d said his father had picked her, laid a trap for him. She wouldn’t be the one to make him step in it.
“Well,” she said, gesturing. “Don’t you have some art to show me?”
The corners of his mouth lifted.
“I guess so.”
He headed down the street, leaving her to follow.
7
To say the least, Smith was conflicted.
He looked down at his scotch, idly swirling the amber liquid around in the heavy crystal tumbler as he sighed, thinking about Cameron.
Smith snorted to himself, taking a large sip of his drink. Thinking about her was all he seemed to do anymore.
After he’d kissed her, on the Pont des Arts of all places, Cameron had been seemingly content to pretend as if the moment had never happened between them, going about the rest of their night of sightseeing as if they were no more than professional acquaintances on a business trip together.
Which is what you bloody well wanted, you tosser. So what’s with all the brooding?
“Fucking hell,” Smith groaned to himself, leaning his head against the back of the leather armchair he was sitting in and closing his eyes, annoyed with himself.
He and Cameron had just gotten back from Paris that morning. Having wrapped up the remainder of their business there the day after visiting the Louvre, they’d pleasantly parted ways on the tarmac after a relatively uneventful plane ride home, which is how Smith now found himself sulking alone in his study.
Things between them had been far more cordial after their little talk outside the cafe, and the impromptu kiss that had followed. Smith had been surprised to find that--sexual interactions aside--he rather enjoyed Cameron’s company.