‘Wait until you see me dance,’ I say, beginning to sway sexily for him. I’m three glasses deep and quite sure beyond a shadow of doubt that it is anything but sexy. But who cares? Fortune favours the brave. I may never see him again after tonight. He might go back to the production village, and I might get sent home. The new me won’t even have had her moment to shine.
‘Dance with me.’ I hold my breath while he visibly decides whether this is a good idea. He is staring at me. Now he is looking at my lips. He is putting down his drink and leaning towards me. It’s happening in slow motion, but I think I’m moving closer to him. He takes my drink from me and finishes it in one go. I really shouldn’t but I find his new tolerance for alcohol immensely sexy.
He reaches out to take my waist and I step closer. We start to move in time to the music. At first tentatively but then, my God, can he move. We are pressed up against each other, my arms round his neck and we are swaying in perfect time with one another. His scent is intoxicating, fresh and lemony. His eyes have not left my face. My heart is thumping through my chest as his hands move lightly over my back. I think he might kiss me. I bite my lip slowly and hear a low groan escape from him.
‘You shouldn’t look at me like that,’ he whispers.
Yes, I bloody should.
I ease my head back to peer up at him from below my eyelashes, willing him with every fibre in my being to kiss me. I run my hand lightly through his hair. It’s soft and silky just as I imagined. I trail my hand down his neck and trace the outline ofhis firm shoulders. I feel his bicep tense under my touch. When I see him gulp, I’m pretty sure I have him under my spell.
The sensual beat of the music is enhancing the mood, causing us to keep time. Cam’s hands press firmly on my back, bringing me in even closer as we sway in time. He leans down towards me, our foreheads almost touching, his ragged breath light on my face. The energy between us is electrifying. My heartbeat is terrifyingly fast, my mind is spinning out of control with lustful thoughts for this man.
‘Kiss me,’ I whisper. Our lips are millimetres apart.
Before he can act on my instruction the beat of the music changes suddenly. It’s almost as though it snaps him out of the trance.
The tempo thumps through our bodies demanding we keep pace. In one swift move he keeps one arm wrapped around me, takes my hand from his neck and twirls me slowly away from him Latino-style. He then pulls me back in and up close before we engage in what can only be described as having sex while dancing fully clothed.
IT. IS. THE. MOST. EROTIC. EXPERIENCE. OF. MY. LIFE.
The music ends and we stare panting and breathless at one another. The sexual energy in the room is off the charts. I shouldn’t have to ask twice for him to kiss me… but I will if he doesn’t make a move soon.
It feels like ten of the world’s slowest seconds crawl by and still no lip action.
‘Goodnight then,’ he says.
It takes a long moment for his words to sink in.
‘Goodnight?’
He nods slowly with an almost pained expression.
‘Goodnight as in you’re off to bed?’ I really need some clarification.
‘Yeah, erm, big day tomorrow and you know, erm…’ he says, running a hand through his hair and blinking his eyes as though to shake himself out of a daze.
No, I certainly do not know.
I must look distraught.
‘I’m sorry, Libby. Even though I find you incredibly attractive. Unbelievably attractive,’ he says. ‘I can’t get involved.’
‘Oh,’ I say, trying not to look or sound tearful as he hurries back to his laptops to put some distance between us.
He turns the music off with a noisy clang. The romantic atmosphere has been well and truly burst like a balloon. Almost as if he has suddenly remembered that he does not mix business with pleasure after all.
Chapter 13
I can’t even begin to describe how rough I feel when I wake up. The whole drinking too much wine and crushing rejection had me tossing and turning all night. My cheeks are burning with the humiliation of it. How am I going to face Cam today? I threw myself at him in the most shameful way. I did the whole lips pouting, bosom-heaving, lashes batting routine, and more or less demanded that he kiss me, and he still did not have the courtesy to act on it. After all, the attraction was mutual. He said so himself.
Or did he?
Was I so under the influence that I imagined he was more into me than he actually was? When he said ‘I shouldn’t look at him like that’ did he really mean I shouldn’t look at him like that? Was I, in fact, coming on too strong and it spooked him? He certainly seemed like he couldn’t get away fast enough. But the crackling energy between us… he must have felt it. He must have.
Unless he didn’t.
How mortifying. I’m never drinking that much again.
