A case of mistaken identity...

Leads to disaster...or exquisite temptation?

CEO Cameron Blackmore assumes the PR expert sent from New York to clean up his reputation will be a man. But Jackson McAllister is all woman—as evidenced during their no-names, strangers-in-lust, incredibly sexy one-night stand! Now Cameron and Jackson must keep their hands off each other. But with Jackson shadowing his every move in the boardroom, can they forget their time in the bedroom?

“DARE is Harlequin’s hottest line yet. Every book should come with a free fan. I dare you to try them!”

—Tiffany Reisz, international bestselling author

Award-winning author of sensual, emotional adventures of the heart, REBECCA HUNTER writes sexy stories about alpha men and spirited women set in Australia for Mills & Boon’s DARE line. She lives with her family in the San Francisco Bay Area.

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Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Best Laid Plans

Rebecca Hunter

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07131-4

BEST LAID PLANS

© 2018 Rebecca Hunter

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To my sister Leah, who tolerates early drafts of everything I write.

Your adventures in Australia inspired this series.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Extract

About the Publisher

CHAPTER ONE

“LESS LIKE A fraternity and more like a real company? What the hell does that mean?”

Cameron Blackmore leaned back in the plush lounge chair and massaged his temples. He didn’t like this any more than the others, but as CEO of Blackmore Inc. in Australia, he had to be the voice of reason. Or at least survival. He crossed his arms and looked each of the other three members of his team in the eye.

“You all know exactly what this means,” he said. “After the recent news coverage we’ve gotten, we need to lie low for a while. We’re in high-profile security, for fuck’s sake. No public appearances, no partying and no walking out of a pub with clients.”

Derek and Simon nodded. Max’s scowl grew.

“Can your father and his board tell us where we can go and who we can bring home with us?” Max grumbled. “All the way from New York?”

Cameron surveyed the dark room and caught a couple glances in their direction from other patrons. Damn. They were attracting attention. He had moved their impromptu meeting to the hotel lounge to be discreet, but discreet wasn’t Max’s strong suit.

Cameron lowered his voice and leaned in. “It’s not like any of us were planning on finding the love of our lives in the next two weeks.” He turned to Max. “And to answer your question, yes. When you land on the front page of the Sydney Morning Herald, yes.”

Derek and Simon looked at Max.

Max threw his hands up. “Hey, I was fact-finding with her.”

Derek smirked. “Is that what you call it, mate?”

“We don’t need to get into this again,” said Cameron. “You did what you needed to do. The client understood that, even if the board doesn’t. They’re owned by my father, so what do you expect?”

His smile disappeared. Harlan Blackmore still managed to wield some control over his life, even a continent away. Cameron’s dislike of his father was no secret. When he joined the family business, Cameron had expected his grandfather to hold on for a few more years. Enough time to take the ruins of the business his father had left in Australia and turn it into the kind of company his grandfather had built. Cameron had fond, if hazy, memories of Sydney from the two years he’d spent here as a child—back when his parents were together. So, he’d jumped on the opportunity to return a couple years ago. But his grandfather’s heart attack wasn’t in Cameron’s plans, nor was his father’s scramble for control over Blackmore Inc.

And Harlan Blackmore had no fucking idea how to run an international security company. He just looked the part and acted the part, all while running Blackmore Inc. Australia into the ground with his US strategies. And the board rewarded him for this grand performance by making him president.

But maybe, just maybe, this whole recent turn of events could be Cameron’s chance to run the business his way. His grandfather’s way. A chance to show the board that focusing on a strong, loyal team and the demands of the current market had a better business payoff than making strategic golf partners or any of the other shit the board wanted him to do. His father could play golf or do whatever the hell he pleased, as long as he left the business strategy to Cameron.

Low grumbles came from around the table.

“No women? Sounds like a waste of two weeks,” said Max.

Derek took a swipe at Max’s head, but Max ducked. “You’re whining more than you did back on the footy field.”

“Piss off,” said Max lazily. “Not all of us have a hot woman at home to—”

“Watch what you say about my wife,” growled Derek, all two-hundred-plus pounds of muscle ready to tackle his former teammate.

“Enough,” said Cameron.

The discussion was over. He trusted this group of men with his life. If he asked them to keep a low profile, they’d all do it. And so would he. Starting tomorrow.

Cameron took a gulp of his beer and scanned the lounge to see if anyone was still watching them. He stopped on a woman sitting at the end of the bar, her eyes on him. Red lips and long brown hair in waves down her back. A silky shirt, see-through, thanks to the angle of the lights, and a black skirt riding up her thighs. She was looking, not listening, and there was something dreamy, unfocused, in her gaze. As if she were thinking through the course of her night, too.

The woman pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and looked down into her drink. Damn. How soon could he get this meeting over with?

Simon leaned in and grabbed the paper off the table in front of him, scanning it again. “So they’re sending this asshole—” he pointed at the name in the middle of the page “—Jackson McAllister all the way from New York just to follow us around for two weeks?”

“What kind of wanky name is Jackson McAllister?” Max waved his hand around, almost knocking over his beer.

“The kind that will be firing all of our asses if we’re not careful,” said Derek.

Cameron sighed. “Look, he’ll be around the office a bit, but it’s really me he’s supposed to follow. To see if a little public relations training can ‘fix’ our image. Fix my image, actually. It’s my job that’s on the line. The board was pretty specific on that.”

Max blew out his breath. “Sorry, mate.”

Cameron swallowed the bile creeping up his throat and shrugged. “So the plan is to give this dickhead a grand welcome to Sydney, show him that this is all a big misunderstanding, that we’re not all drunken brawlers who like to pick up women every night, and then send him on his way back to New York.”

Derek snorted. “Good luck with that.”

“It’s fine,” said Cameron. “I can play nice for a few days. And so can you all.”

Derek raised a skeptical eyebrow at Max.

“Piss off, Derek,” said Max and punched him in the arm. “You were partying just as much as the rest of us before you met Laurie.”

“Here’s the thing,” said Cameron, cutting off the exchange. “I called you here because I wanted you to know ahead of time. I’m meeting with the guy tomorrow morning, and we’ll all go to dinner at Circular Quay, all nice and civil-like. But until then, you don’t know anything. So you all have one last night before the ax comes down.”

He looked around the table. The expressions on all three faces of his team grew into grins, as if they were each imagining what they were going to do with this night. Cameron didn’t need to use his imagination. The woman was sitting right in his line of sight. Her wine was almost gone, so it was time to wrap up this meeting.

Cameron cleared his throat.

“Oh, well, thanks for the heads-up,” said Max, all traces of his frown gone. He stood up and set his beer on the table. “So what are we waiting for? Who’s in for the pub?”

Derek smiled. “Laurie’s out until ten, so I’m up for a couple drinks. But I want to make it home by then.”

Max rolled his eyes. “Me and lover boy. What about you, Simon?”

“Of course.”

“And you, boss?”

Cameron eyed the bar. The woman was looking in his direction again. This time, she waited an extra beat before she lowered her long dark lashes. A good sign.

“I’m sticking around here for a while,” he said. “But I’ll call you if I change my mind.”

“Whatever, mate.” Max shook his head. “You gonna check into a room here and rent some porn for your last night of freedom?”

“Get the fuck out of here,” he said, chuckling.

Cameron watched his team head out of the hotel. He took the last drink from his beer and set it down. He turned for one more look at the luscious woman at the bar. If he ended up alone tonight, he’d have plenty of material to get off on. Her skirt rode high enough to get a good look at her shapely bare legs. Was she the type who liked to ride or be ridden? Or both?

Cameron stood up and started over to the bar. He caught her gaze and held it. She squinted a little. Then her eyes widened, as if this were the last thing she expected to happen. Hmm. One of those curvy bombshells who somehow hadn’t realized just how sexy she was? Even better.

As he came closer, the corners of her mouth turned up into a little smile. He slid into the stool next to hers. His legs were too long to fit under the bar, so he faced her instead.

She turned and brushed her silky hair over her shoulder. Her smile grew wider. “Hi, there.”

She was American? She had one of those soft, raspy voices that was going to get him hard right here in the bar if he wasn’t careful. This was getting better by the minute.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

She shook her head and smiled. No names? He could do that.

“Okay,” he said. “Should I start with, ‘Do you come here often?’”

She gave a throaty laugh. “Is that all you got?”

Shit, this was going to be fun. He leaned closer and whispered, “Depends on what you want.”

A flush crept up her slender neck and onto her cheeks. She swallowed. “Just so you know, I’m not into getting picked up at a bar.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Maybe you’re looking at it wrong.”

“Is that right?” She gave a little snort of amusement.

He nodded. “It’s all about having fun. About trying new things you might not try anywhere else. And living for the moment.”

“How very philosophical,” she said, crossing her arms. “Does that usually work for you?”

Cameron hung his head and laughed. “I’ve got a good record.”

She rolled her eyes. “No wonder you’re so cocky. That kind of guy.”

“If you know my kind, then you know I love a challenge. And you’ve just raised the stakes, sweetheart,” he said softly.

The woman took the last sip of her wine and licked her lips. She met his gaze again, and for a moment, an electric spark sizzled through him, held him there. Did she feel it, too? Her long, dark lashes fluttered.

Then the amusement was back in her smile. And maybe a hint of challenge.

“You’re going to have to work a lot harder than this,” she said.

Cameron rested his foot on her bar stool to get closer. “I’ll work as long and hard as you want me to.”

She gasped softly, and her mouth dropped for a brief moment. What was she imagining right now? Then she laughed. “Enough with the lines,” she said, shaking her head.

“But they’re working so well,” he deadpanned. He shifted back. “You’re not just a little curious?”

She hesitated, so he continued. “You know what I’m most curious about?”

She narrowed her eyes and slowly shook her head.

“I’m wondering what makes you hot,” he said, lowering his voice.

As he spoke, her gaze darted down between his legs, where he was fighting a full-on erection. Maybe this wasn’t such a long shot after all.

“Are you wondering how big I am?” he whispered. “What it might feel like?”

She met his gaze, and the fire sparked between them. Hell, she liked this game just as much as he did.

“Does it have any correlation with your ego?” she asked sweetly.

He quirked a brow. “You’re welcome to find out for yourself.” He fought another smile as her gaze landed between his legs again. Definitely interested.

“Size is overrated,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “I’d rather have a man who knows how to use it.”

She smelled like something delicious. Her lips were red and wet and only inches away. “What if you can have both?”

CHAPTER TWO

JACKSON MCALLISTER SWALLOWED the flutter in her throat as she stared at this man’s soft, full lips. Thick black hair, deep blue eyes and a little stubble along his hard jaw. At least she thought she saw all that. So what if she couldn’t actually see him clearly? Her imagination took off where her vision ended. And putting those two together, this guy was unreal. Big and built enough for even her to make out the outlines of his muscles against his black T-shirt. He was so out of her league. But just a moment ago, she could have sworn something had passed between them.

If she wanted to prove Cheater Rob wrong, now was her chance. She did know how to have fun in bed. And even without her contacts in, this guy looked like he was all about the best kinds of fun. He had such big...arms. Sure, he had an ego the size of this hotel, but did it matter? If she wanted to get back in the saddle, so to speak, maybe she needed someone who wasn’t so concerned about his own performance.

Best of all, no one would ever know. Jackson had never set foot on this continent before today, and she had sidestepped names. What better introduction to Australia? This trip didn’t allow for all the sightseeing in her little red book, so why not try her own private cultural primer? Okay, so he sounded American—she detected a slight accent on a few words—but she could make an exception in this case.

Her mother’s mantra rang in her ears: Good things come to those who wait. Well, she had put off this kind of careless fun for long enough. And he was looking pretty good. Her mother probably hadn’t meant for Jackson to apply her favorite saying in this way, which would make it all the more fun.

She reached for her little red book, tucked inside the pocket of her purse, but stopped. No, she wasn’t going to add “hot sex in Sydney” to the Australia page, just so she could cross at least one item off the list. Not here, right in front of this particular tourist attraction.

Jackson bit her lip and met his gaze. He looked familiar, though she had given up any hope of recognizing anyone when she left her contacts back in her hotel room. At least her eyes weren’t stinging anymore. Her glasses had gotten her down to the bar, but she’d slipped them back in their case when she sat down. And she wasn’t about to pull them out to get a better look at this guy.

He gazed at her like he had all the time in the world. But she knew he was ready to get things started. And she was thinking this just might happen. A kiss couldn’t hurt.

“What do you think?” he asked. “Want to see if this is as good as I think it will be?”

She glanced at his left hand. “No ring?”

He laughed. “Do I strike you as the relationship type?”

That deep, sexy voice was killing her. She rested one hand on his hard, muscular thigh. “Okay. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

She leaned forward and took his bottom lip between hers. She sucked gently and went back for more, pressing her mouth against his and licking his bottom lip this time. A rumble rose from his chest, and he took control. He slipped his tongue inside her mouth for a few lazy strokes, and he slid his large hand behind her head, pulling her closer. He teased and coaxed until she wove her hand into his thick dark hair, responding, asking for more. Easing off his chair to standing, he ran his hands over her hips as he took the kiss deeper. Harder. His erection pressed firmly against her, and she moaned a little louder than she should have.

He pulled back, and she let go of the handful of hair she was grasping. Whoa.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath and sank back into his stool.

She looked up, and his eyes were closed. He shook his head a little and opened them again.

“I guess we’ve answered the first question,” he said with a wry smile. “It’ll definitely be good.”

She nodded. This was already sexier than anything she’d done in a long time, and they had only kissed.

His gaze was fixed on her, and she took the opportunity to stare back. At least she tried to. He did look familiar. Maybe he was an actor, someone from a movie she had seen? His hair had fallen down into his face. If he were her boyfriend, she’d push it back. But he wasn’t. Far from it. Which made this all the more tempting.

“Well, sweetheart,” he said. “Are we going to walk away, or are we taking this to the next level?”

This was either going to be the best decision she’d ever made or the dumbest.

“I’ve got a room,” she whispered.

He smiled. “I like your choice.”

She gathered her purse and they stood up. Good God, he was big. What would it be like to have a man this size over her? He’d crush her if he flopped around like Cheater Rob. She frowned. No more Rob thoughts tonight.

“Can I use your mobile for a minute?” he asked.

Jackson raised an eyebrow, but he looked serious. She unlocked it and handed it over. He found the camera and took a picture of himself.

“Oooh, a commemorative photo of our evening,” she said, laughing. “Thanks.”

He looked down at her and sighed. “For your safety,” he said drily.

Oh. Why the hell didn’t she think of safety? She must be loopy on all his super-alpha pheromones.

“Can anyone access your email?”

She shrugged. “My sister, I guess.”

“Then email the photo to yourself and write, ‘This is who I was with tonight.’”

Well, that was a good idea, now that he mentioned it. She typed the message and sent it.

“Ready?” he asked.

Yep, she was definitely ready.

They managed to make it through the lobby, but when the elevator doors closed, all bets were off. He backed her against the wall for another searing kiss. He licked the seam of her mouth, and she opened, answering back with her own explorations. He found her thigh with his hand, and he slipped it under the hem of her skirt. His teeth scraped her bottom lip, and he bit down softly. His hand slid higher, and she squirmed against him. He was rock hard.

“I can feel you,” she whispered. “All of you.”

He smiled. “You worried?”

“Should I be?”

He didn’t answer, so she reached between them and palmed him gently. His groan echoed through the elevator chamber as she stroked from base to tip, and he muttered an indecipherable string of curse words. He grabbed her hand, but the elevator dinged before he could do anything more.

Jackson stepped out and took a deep breath. She had flown from New York to Sydney today and had been awake for God knew how long. Now she was taking the world’s hottest man to her hotel room for what promised to be the best sex of her life. Hopefully the jet lag wouldn’t catch up with her any time soon.

They turned the corner, and she stopped in front of the first room. He swept her hair aside and kissed her neck as she fumbled with the key. But before she could open the door, his hand covered hers.

“You are on fire,” he whispered in her ear. “And I want to give you more pleasure tonight than you’ve had in your life.”

Her pulse pounded in her throat. Damn, this was unreal.

“But if you don’t like something,” he continued, “just say stop and I’ll back off. No matter what we’re in the middle of. Got it?”

She nodded.

“Good.”

He took her key and pushed it in the lock, and the door swung open. He was right behind her, crowding her. As soon as the door closed, he turned her around and pressed her back against the door with the weight of his body. She cupped his jaw in her hands and pulled his mouth toward hers. His lips came down on hers, hungry and insistent. His grip tightened around her waist, but he pulled back.

“What do you want?” he growled.

“An orgasm, please?” she squeaked.

Jackson covered her mouth. Did she really just say that?

He leaned his forehead against the door, and his shoulders shook with silent laughter. “Yeah, I got that,” he finally said.

He straightened up and met her gaze. His smile slowly shifted from amusement back to searing lust. He ran his hands up and down her waist in slow, sensual sweeps. “I mean, what do you like?” he said, his voice low and gruff. “This can be as gentle or as rough as you want it.”

The word rough sang through her body. What did he imagine when he said it?

“How do you want this to be?” she hedged.

His eyes widened, and he smiled. “I wasn’t expecting that answer.” He rubbed the stubble on his chin. “I want this to be the best night of your life. I want you to wake up missing the feeling of my cock in you.”

A rush of heat flooded her. His words turned her on just as much as his ravenous kisses. Jackson had no idea what to say.

He put his hand back on her waist. “How ’bout we start with this,” he said before his lips brushed the base of her jaw.

She swallowed and nodded.

His tongue was soft and teasing. She ran her hands over the thick muscles of his arms. He found the edge of her shirt and tugged it up. She pulled it over her head, and his breath caught. “Mmm... That bra is perfect.”

She smiled. See-through lace. Her nipples poked out, hard, begging for attention. “Glad you like it.”

“Hell, yeah.” He cupped her breasts and rubbed his thumbs over the peaks. She moaned, and his erection throbbed hard against her.

“Turn around,” he said.

She faced the door, and he unclasped the bra, pushing the straps over her shoulders. She let it fall to the floor. Her breasts were heavy, and they tingled in the cool air. Would he play with them?

He knelt down behind her and unzipped her skirt. Oh. He slid his hands under the material and pushed the skirt over her hips. It fell to the floor, too, and she stood in nothing but her panties.

He didn’t touch at first. His breath came in gentle puffs on her back. “Lace again,” he said, running his hands over the material.

A little gasp escaped from her lips. He kissed the small of her back and eased the panties down, as well.

She was naked and giddy, but his caresses slowed. His hand trailed down her spine, and when he came to her rear, one finger continued. Then he stopped at the most daring place of all.

She shivered.

“You ever played here?” he asked softly.

Jackson hesitated. She hadn’t, but she was definitely curious. Should she say yes, just to see what it was like? She shook her head.

“Okay,” he said, and his finger trailed lower. “Then we’ll play here.”

His finger teased her clit, and then it was gone. He turned her around and tugged off his own shirt. He undid the front of his pants, and her mouth fell open as he reached in to give himself a long, hard stroke.

He looked up at her darkly. “First I want to lick you, and then I want to fuck you hard. How does that sound?”

“Like the most erotic thing I’ve ever heard,” Jackson blurted. Shit. That had slipped out.

He gave her a hungry smile. “Okay, sweetheart. Put your leg over my shoulder.”

She lifted her leg and rested it on the hard wall of muscles along his back. She was so exposed and wound up that she wasn’t sure how long she could stand like this.

He wrapped his hands around her hips and buried his face in her. He ran his tongue along her inner thigh until he reached her clit. Then he sucked hard. Pleasure shot through her body. She cried out and her head fell back. So he did it again. His tongue traveled over a new spot, exploring, learning her responses. But he went slowly, so slowly. Jackson tangled her hands into his hair, begging him for more. Shudders of heat rushed through her, more and more intense each time. He groaned when she responded, but he didn’t stop; he found new places to lick and suck, bringing her closer and closer until she fell back against the wall. Want turned to need. Then a bolt of ecstasy exploded inside, and she came in white-hot spasms.

She panted, trying to hold herself up. It was too much. He caught her in his arms and brought her down to the floor against him. He held her like that until her breaths slowed.

“That was amazing,” she whispered.

“We can do it as many times as you want,” he said.

His pants had fallen open, and his erection strained through the last layer of clothing between them. She kissed his shoulder and leaned back, taking in the sight of him. “When do you get naked?” she asked.

He put his hands on his knees and stood up in front of her. Oh. Now. She slid his pants down his legs. He toed off his shoes and kicked his pants aside. Jackson rose on her knees and fingered the waistband of his boxers.

She swallowed. Finally she was going to get a look at what promised to be the most impressive display she had ever seen, with or without glasses. Taking a deep breath, she inched down his waistband. His tip glistened in front of her. She tugged his boxers down farther, and he bent down to help her. He stepped out, and she got a nice, long view of him. Long being the operative word.

“Oh, my,” she whispered.

He laughed, and their eyes met. His smile faded. For one quiet moment, neither of them moved. The scene was outrageously erotic. She was naked on her knees, with his enormous cock bobbing in front of her, but there was something else, too. A different kind of spark between them, something that made this scene even better.

Whoa, girl. Way too deep for casual sex.

She looked away from his hypnotic blue eyes and began to explore. She traced him slowly from tip to base. His breaths quickened as she stroked and squeezed him, and he rocked into her touch.

He leaned forward to help her up, and he nodded to the bed.

“You ready?” All the smoothness in his voice was gone.

“Yes.”

He reached for his jeans and pulled out his wallet. The wrapper crackled as he tore it off and rolled on the condom. She was beyond caring that she was staring at him with open lust.

“Turn around,” he said softly, and she did.

He pressed up behind her, his erection hard against her back. Leaning over her, he moved her hair to one side and gently bit her earlobe. He reached around and squeezed her breasts. Oh, yes. He liked that, too. He played with her nipples, squeezing harder until she gasped.

“I want you from behind,” he said, his harsh breaths in her ear.

She nodded and crawled onto the bed, and he followed, never letting go of her. Spreading her legs farther with his knees, he slid his erection along every sensitive place. He teased her and played, and she moved to find new angles of pleasure. His tip pressed at her entrance, and her body yielded to him. With a low groan, he pushed himself all the way in.

She cried out, and he stilled, his fingers flexing hard on her hips.

“You okay?” he said through gritted teeth.

“Yes.” She could barely get out the sound. Everything felt full, and she squirmed to adjust.

“Hold on,” he bit out, and he held her in place. He pulled out slowly and sank back in hard.

A wild moan escaped her.

“You like that, sweetheart?” he growled.

“Yes,” she whispered.

In response, he did it again. Then again and again, pulling out and driving back in. Each time, she sank back on her knees, searching for more. Her body felt lighter as the pleasure built, threatening to explode inside her. His thrusts grew harder and more frantic.

“I—I’m going to...” she stuttered just as the pleasure flooded her once more, the long spasms racking her body. Her arms collapsed as wave after luscious wave of heat rolled through her.

His hips crashed against her, driving deeper, and he came with a torn roar. His big body fell over hers, and he rested his chest on her back. She collapsed in a boneless, sated heap.

Moments passed. He eased down onto the bed and shifted her to his side. His heart pumped in overdrive against her back, and his breath was heavy over her as he stroked her hair softly. She couldn’t see him, but he was everywhere, all around her, holding her close. Like his body belonged there, right against hers.

Wow. Just wow. This was what sex could be like? It was probably better than anything she’d ever have again. If she weren’t so tired, maybe she’d ask to do it one more time.

“My God,” she whispered. “If I had known that one-night stands were this good, I would have started doing this a long time ago.”

He didn’t laugh at her joke. He didn’t answer. He smoothed her hair once more and kissed her on the top of her head. His lips stayed there for an extra beat, and then they were gone.

He rolled away from her and wandered around the room, probably looking for somewhere to put the condom. He bent down and untangled his clothes from the heap on the floor. Was he leaving now? He stepped into his boxers and pulled on his jeans. He picked up his shirt, but he didn’t put it on. Instead, he sat down on the bed right next to her. It dipped under his weight.

Jackson was still wearing nothing, and she climbed under the covers. Her whole body felt heavy and slow. The jet lag was setting in hard. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she fought to open them again.

He pulled the blanket over her shoulders and studied her, but she couldn’t make out his expression.

“I think I should go,” he said.

“Okay,” she said. “Um, thanks, I guess.”

His teeth flashed in a smile.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. I’ll think of you often when I’m alone in bed.”

Jackson smiled. “Likewise.”

He stood up and headed for the door. When it clicked behind him, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

CHAPTER THREE

CAMERON WOKE UP with a hand on his cock. Damn. It was his hand, not the hand of the hot-as-hell woman who had featured in his dream. The woman with a smart, sexy mouth, a nice round ass and no name.

He was already hard as a rock and halfway there, so he slipped down his boxers and closed his eyes. Last night in the shower, he had gotten himself off to all the things he wanted to do with her nice round ass. This morning he’d dedicate to that smart, sexy mouth.

His fantasy began just like she had the night before. She’d touched him with her hands, but this time she’d use her lips and her tongue. Yes, those eager lashes of her tongue. In his dream, instead of walking out, he stayed for another round. He grasped her long, luscious hair in both hands and guided himself in and out of her mouth, thrusting deeper, while she stared up at him with those deep green eyes. Fuck.

Cameron gave himself a few last hard strokes and came with a loud groan. He collapsed back on his bed, panting. As the haze of pleasure faded, he shook his head and frowned. When was the last time he’d woken himself up like that? At least he should be able to lie back for a few more minutes of satisfaction. Instead he was restless. And irritable. And still thinking about her comment from the night before.

If I had known that one-night stands were this good, I would have started doing this a long time ago.

What the hell? One-night stands weren’t that good. In fact, Cameron couldn’t think of one that had come close. But when he opened his mouth to tell her, he’d stopped. If he said that the night went far beyond any one-night stand, then what? Starting today, he was supposed to keep his dick in his pants. There was no hope for a repeat performance. So he’d gotten dressed and walked out of the woman’s room instead.

He had told her he wanted her to remember it as the best night of her life. But by the time he left her, he’d reconsidered. If they were that good together on the first try, what would happen when they really started exploring each other?

No. That couldn’t happen. And he wasn’t about to ruin the memories of that night with sappy shit that didn’t matter anyway.

Cameron kicked off his covers, took a few long strides to the bathroom and slammed the door. He turned the shower on punishingly cold, hoping for a distraction. Because the more he thought about this no-women situation, the madder he got.

This PR bullshit the board had arranged was no longer just a nuisance. Last night it meant that he had had to walk away from the best sex in a long time. Maybe that woman was staying in Sydney for a while. Hell, maybe she even lived close by and they could have gone on fucking like that for days. Instead he was making a mess of himself in his boxers right before going to meet with that fucker Jackson McAllister.

Screw Harlan Blackmore and his board. This was the last straw. He had been waiting for the right moment to take control away from them for years, and this was it. His grandfather had built this business years ago to give veterans from his unit a purpose after the Vietnam War. It was the bond of the teams that made his grandfather’s business strong, not the latest PR. Okay, so his team may have gotten a little careless with their public image, but hiring a babysitter to shadow and report on Cameron smacked of his father’s dirty tactics. Harlan had latched on to this situation and intervened as a show of force. There wasn’t too much bad press at this point. Wouldn’t a warning from the board have sufficed? Then Cameron could’ve dealt with his team on his own terms. He needed to show his father and the board just how far up their asses their heads were. And the best way to do that would be to send Jackson McAllister home looking like an idiot.

He shut off the water and toweled off, then he strode into his walk-in closet and reached for a pair of jeans. One leg into them, he stopped and cursed. Probably should wear a suit for this meeting.

By the time he climbed the dock off his building, he still wasn’t thinking clearly. His boat floated peacefully in its berth. Maybe a good fast ride across the harbor would help. Buying that boat was the best decision he’d made since he moved to Sydney. No crowds, no traffic, everything in sight. Those trips across the water every day were the few moments he didn’t have to be on guard. Cameron nodded at the captain and took a seat. He enjoyed this type of travel...and he knew from his army days there were worse ways to get around. Hell, after the plane crash he’d been through, no one could fault him for being picky in that regard.

He pushed those thoughts aside.

If he’d learned anything in the military, it was just how much better things went with a clear plan. And judging from the start of his morning, he was in no state to come up with a good one. But in this pissy mood, any plan was better than none. As the boat passed under the Harbour Bridge, he sent an email to his team. Tonight at dinner they’d figure out Jackson McAllister’s weak spots. Tomorrow they’d figure out how to use them.

But planning didn’t help. When he walked through the glass doors into the Blackmore Inc. office, his mood was just as dark.

“Good morning, Mr. Blackmore.”

He bit out a greeting to Chloe, the receptionist, and headed for his office.

“Mr. Blackmore,” she called after him. “Jackson McAllister is waiting for you in the small conference room.”

He grunted but didn’t turn around. What the hell? The guy wasn’t supposed to be there for another thirty minutes. Cameron changed direction and headed straight for the conference room. He was going to have to tell that fuckwit to come back later.

He burst through the door and came to a full stop. In one of the chairs he saw a woman, not a man. The rear of a woman, to be specific, turned away, bending over a mess of papers on the floor. What the—

“Sorry. Just a moment,” came a voice from under the round table.

A voice that awakened his entire body. He gave himself a little shake. What the fuck was going on?

“I got the time mixed up...” The woman rose with a pile of papers and turned. And froze.

“Oh,” she whispered. “Damn.”

It was her. The hot-as-hell woman. His body had known the moment she spoke, and now his mind finally registered it. Her lips were pale, not red, and she was wearing glasses, but this only added to her appeal. She had her long, silky hair up in a bun. He already knew the feeling of a fistful of that hair, and he had gotten himself off to what those lips would look like around his—

“What are you doing here?” he barked.

The words came out as more of an accusation than a question. Lust must have short-circuited his brain because he still couldn’t figure out how the hell this woman had ended up at his office building.

But as he glared across the room at her, all the wonder disappeared from her expression. She took off her glasses and blinked at him a couple times before putting them back on. She narrowed her eyes and pressed her lips together into a tight smile. She stood up and stuck out her hand for a handshake.

“Jackson McAllister,” she said. “The board warned me about your growling.”

Cameron screwed his eyes shut and rubbed his forehead. He opened his eyes again, but nothing changed. The same woman was still glaring at him.

“What the hell?” he whispered. “You’re not a man.”

Jackson dropped her hand and raised her eyebrows. “I think you and I already established that last night, Mr. Blackmore,” she said drily. “And you’re supposed to have a beard.”

So... She was Jackson McAllister. The person the board had sent to rein in him and his team. Or try to. And he had already given her an eye-opening welcome. Cameron rubbed his temples.

“But Jackson’s a man’s name,” he muttered to himself.

She shook her head slowly. “Why do I feel like I’m back in elementary school?”

“I’m long past elementary school, Ms. McAllister,” he snapped. “I think we established that last night, too.”

Her face betrayed no emotion, but a deep flush crept up her neck. Which brought him right back to the place his mind absolutely should not go now. The last time those cheeks reddened like that was—

Shit. What was he supposed to do now? Pull out a chair for her all gentleman-like? Ignore the fact that he had just had mind-bending sex with her less than twelve hours ago? He huffed out a breath and sank into his own chair at the table.

He crossed his arms and leaned back, scrambling to get a handle on the situation. Wait. He’d had no idea who she was last night, but had she known who he was? Was this part of some larger scheme to “tame” him? He nearly snarled at the thought. It sure as hell hadn’t felt that way. And when he walked into the conference room, she’d looked just as confused as he had felt. But he couldn’t rule it out.

“You had to know it was me last night,” he said slowly. “Didn’t the board give you photos or something?”

Jackson rolled her eyes. “I didn’t spend hours gazing at your profile, if that’s what you mean. You had a beard in most of them, and last night I took my contacts out because my eyes were killing me.”

Well, those glasses gave her an innocent-but-naughty look that would turn him on right here if he kept thinking about it. Fighting for calm, he said, “Screw it. Let’s do this.”

Her eyes snapped up to meet his, and another blush washed over her cheeks. Wait—did he just catch her staring at his biceps? She sat down quickly in her chair and smoothed her skirt over her legs. She grabbed the files she had just collected from the floor and cleared her throat.

“I’m here to give you a boost of intensive public relations support,” she said. “I’ll be looking at every detail of your day and coming up with a plan for improvement.”

“Any suggestions so far?” The comment slipped out before he could think better of it. And fuck if she didn’t lick her lips before she could think better of it.

But the glossy look in her eyes quickly switched back to a glare. “The board wants a detailed report,” she said sharply. “And there I’ll make suggestions for the future.”

All his retorts faded. He hadn’t missed the board’s veiled threat. If Cameron didn’t run his company the Harlan Blackmore way, someone else would. But he hadn’t missed Jackson’s threat, either. And the glare she still fixed on him said the same thing: Don’t mess with me.

Cameron ran a hand through his hair and blew out a breath. “How the hell do you propose we make this work, Jackson?”

She let out a little sigh. Her eyes softened, and she pushed her glasses up her nose. For a moment, she looked just as mixed up about the situation as he was. But when she spoke again, her voice was steady and all business.

“We just forget about last night and do our jobs,” she said. “I’m over it. You’re a big boy. You can get past it, too, can’t you?”

She knew just how much of a big boy he was, but now wasn’t the time to point this out.

“I think I can manage that,” he said drily. “Let’s get to work.”

She opened a file and pushed it toward him. He picked up the printouts of newspaper articles and photos one by one. He had seen most of them before. They featured various members of his team with different women from different jobs. Most of them weren’t remarkable. He could see her point, too—he did have a beard in most of them.

“These are clients,” he said.

She picked up one of Max and a high-profile actress. He was whispering something in her ear, and if the sultry smile on her face was any indication, she was ready for him to do a lot more.

“He looks more like a male escort than a bodyguard,” she said.

Cameron took the photo back. “What can I say? He’s good at his job.”

He continued through the pile. He found a photo of himself coming out of a pub with two women, one on each side. He was talking to one, and the other was holding on to his bicep, her mouth next to his ear.

His gaze flicked up to meet hers. “That’s not what it looks like.”

“Let me guess,” she said sweetly. “You’re good at your job, too?”

He rested his gaze on her. “I am good at my job.” He added softly, “And aside from that, I prefer to enjoy women one at a time.”

She didn’t answer, but she lost some of the hardness in her expression. What was going on in her mind right now? Did she like more than one man at a time? The idea boiled in him. Hell, no. But that was the last thing he should be getting upset about right now. Nothing was going to happen between them again. Not a bloody thing.

He leafed through the rest of the photos and articles until he came to one that made him stop. It was a single photo with no words. There was no other indication of where it came from except for a long web address at the top of the page.

“Where did you find this?” he snapped.

Jackson took the paper from his hand and studied it. “I’m not sure about this one. We ran a search on the company’s name and all your team members’ names and printed out everything we came across from this last year. Why are you asking?”

“That’s not a client. That’s Derek Latu with his wife, Laurie.”

“He’s married?” she asked, as if this were the last thing she expected to hear.

“Very happily. Surprised?” Cameron gave her a pointed look. “I told you this shit doesn’t tell the whole story.” He gestured to the photo. “Yes, he has a wife, but she stays far away from any press. She’s had some stalker issues in the past.”

“Oh.” Jackson looked at the web address again. “It doesn’t come from anywhere I recognize.”

“That’s what worries me.” He looked at the photo once more and set it aside on the table. “Can I keep this? I want to show it to Derek.”

Jackson nodded and gathered together the rest of the clippings.

“Whether these photos represent jobs or—” she waved her hand around as if she were searching for the right words “—or other encounters is beside the point from a PR perspective. This is going to become the Blackmore Inc. image if you don’t make some changes.”

“Says my father,” finished Cameron with more than a little bitterness.

He thought she’d deny it, but she didn’t. Instead, Jackson gave him a look that was almost sympathetic. “Yes. But it’s important for the company, too. Especially if you’re saying we’re not seeing the whole story.”

“Even though the Australian division of Blackmore Inc. is doing better now than it was when my father ran the show?”

“Yep. Probably even because of it.”

Cameron sighed. Well, at least they were on the same page in that regard.

“All right,” he grumbled. “What’s next?”

Jackson flipped through her file to the first pages, biting her lip. Cameron couldn’t keep his eyes off those plump, soft lips that had promised him so much pleasure the night before. What would it feel like if she—

“I just want to make sure I have all the basics,” she said, looking up at him. Her eyes rounded.

Shit. Were his thoughts so transparent?

Jackson’s eyes skittered away and she cleared her throat. “You and three other men make up your main team for on-the-ground security. Max Jensen comes from a prominent ranching family in Australia, and you two were roommates at Princeton. He’s the one with his photo on the front page of the papers.”

Cameron scowled. “He’s also the one who brought both clients and credibility into the Australian market when I took over. His family’s name goes a long way down here.”

She nodded and jotted a few notes before looking back up. “After you both graduated, he returned to Australia and played rugby, where he met Derek Latu. You enlisted in the army.”

Cameron gave a dry laugh. “Much to my father’s dismay.”

“But not your grandfather’s, I’m assuming,” she said. “Following his path, the way he built this company.”

Very good, Jackson McAllister. He crossed his arms and waited.

“You and Simon Rodriguez were in the same unit,” she continued, “and when you both returned, you hired him.”

Cameron nodded.

Jackson flipped the page and scanned it. “Not long after, your grandfather put you in charge of Australia and moved your father back to New York.” She raised her gaze to his. “I’d imagine your father wouldn’t have taken that very well.”

Cameron didn’t answer. This woman was good. She had done her background work and read between the lines. But even as sympathetic as she had sounded, he couldn’t forget for a minute she was working for the board. Not for him.

Jackson looked back down at the pages in her file. “You and Simon Rodriguez came to Sydney, brought Max Jensen and Derek Latu on board, and the four of you started to rethink the company’s strategy.”

“That’s about it,” he said.

Jackson looked at him for an extra beat, her green eyes searching his. Then she stuffed her files into her bag. “Let’s take a quick tour around the office so I can get a feel for what goes on here. Then we’ll look at your schedule. I want to spend the first couple of days getting an idea of what you’re doing now.”

“Fine,” he said, grabbing his briefcase.

Cameron stood up and took a deep breath. He’d just had a conversation with her and hadn’t once thought about sex. Well, not for the last part of the conversation, anyway. Progress. He could do this.

She gathered her things, and he gestured to let her go first out of the conference room. Big mistake. Because now he was right behind her with a clear view of that nice round rear he had so appreciated last night. Her skirt was longer today, but it had a slit up the back that got him wondering. How high would it slide up her legs? She was wearing silky stockings. Were they the kind that went all the way up, or did they stop somewhere out of sight and leave the tops of her delicious thighs bare?

Shit. He turned his head and looked down the hall at anything he could find—the plants, the sprinkler system, the lights—anything but the spectacular view of Jackson calling his name.

She turned around. “Which way?”

“I’ll lead,” he growled. He turned down the hall and headed for the elevators. Say something, you fuckwit. Cameron mentally shook himself. “It’s just the four of us principals, a couple of admins and some meeting rooms on this floor. The other three guys aren’t in the office right now. We’ll need to go downstairs for the rest of the company.”

He pushed the elevator call button.

“The floor below us is where most of the logistics people sit as well as the teams under each of us four,” he said. “Clients want all sorts of security these days, and since I took over the Sydney business, we’ve broadened according to what the companies here need.”

The elevator doors opened, and they stepped in. Just keep talking.

“Derek and Max both head up on-the-ground security teams, and Simon is developing our surveillance branch. A lot of the work we do can be carried out in the office, but we work as a team when jobs require more specialized security. That’s just for the very high-end clients, and the four of us are on-site for those jobs. Those are the ones that you see in the photos.”

Cameron cleared his throat and shoved his hands in his pockets. The doors opened.

“We’re two floors down now, in our IT department,” he said. “With the kind of security we do, we can’t outsource anything.”

He led her around, introducing her to employees at all levels. He knew everyone in the company. He had to if he was going to entrust so many people’s safety to them.

Jackson smiled and shook everyone’s hands, remembering names and asking questions. He had to admit she was really good. But as they made their way through accounting, her eyes began to droop. She must be tired.

“You want to take a break?” he asked.

Jackson took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. “I think I’ve seen enough to get us started. Let’s head back upstairs.”

He led the way back to the elevators. On the ride up, she looked more and more tired by the minute. They finally came to the door of his office, and he opened it for her.

“Oh, my God,” she said breathlessly, walking up to the tall glass windows. “That’s the Harbour Bridge.”

He started toward her, ready to point out the Opera House, but he froze as his mind kicked back into gear. He was not going to stand next to her and breathe in the warm scent of her hair. They needed to get back to business. “Yes,” he grunted, trying not to look in her direction.

He hauled an extra chair over to the opposite side of his desk, then sank into his. She sat down, too, and he pulled up his schedule for the day before swiveling his monitor toward her.

“No meetings this morning?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Moved them all. I wasn’t sure what you’d have in mind.”

She bent over to look closer at his computer screen, giving him a flash down her button-up shirt. Luscious, round breasts strained against a lacy pink bra. Luscious, round breasts that he spent far too little time on last night. That he would never play with again. He forced his gaze back to the computer screen.

“What’s this?” she asked, pointing to the lunch hour block.

“I work out at our gym every day. It’s a few floors down from here. Below IT.”

“Oh.”

“You gonna observe me there, too?” he asked, fighting a grin.

She caught her lip between her teeth. “I’d check out everything with any other client.”

“You’re welcome to watch.” Cameron gave her a lazy smile and added, “If the board insists.”

A touch of pink stained her cheeks. “Maybe another day.”

“Suit yourself,” he said smoothly. “I’ll probably be on the phone most of the afternoon checking in with clients. And then we’ll meet the rest of the team for dinner tonight.”

“They don’t come into the office every day?”

“Most days I’m here, and they come in when they’re not on security jobs.” Thankfully, as CEO, Cameron had a good excuse not to travel—neglecting the daily operations was how his father got the Sydney office into trouble in the first place. The prominent clients in Sydney kept business booming, and his teammates could handle operations farther afield, if they came up. His aversion to flying wasn’t exactly good for the business, long-term, but he’d figure that out at some point. “Today the guys are looking at one of the local venues where we’re providing security for a high-profile client, a politician. You’ll hear the details in this week’s meeting.”

“Okay,” she said, stifling a yawn.

He raised an eyebrow. “This job’s already boring you? I told you, our business is a lot more ordinary than your photos suggest.”

She shook her head. “It’s not that. The jet lag is killing me.”

Her eyelids sank for a moment and then snapped back open. He saw an opportunity, and he took it.

“Listen, why don’t you take a taxi back to your hotel for a few hours and catch up on some sleep,” he said. “Like I said, I’ll just be around the office answering messages and talking to clients.”

She frowned. “Probably not a good idea on my first day.”

“You won’t miss anything,” he said. “I promise I won’t get into any trouble while you’re gone.”

Her eyelids drooped again. “I don’t know... I had planned to cover a bit more.”

“We’re meeting the team for dinner at seven, so I’ll come by your room around six and take you there.”

“Okay, maybe you’re right. I probably won’t be productive like this, anyway,” she said, suppressing another yawn. “But I can’t miss that meeting.”

“I won’t let you.”

Jackson nodded. “See you tonight, then.” She grabbed her bag and he couldn’t help noticing the sway of her hips as she walked out the door.

Once she disappeared, Cameron breathed a long sigh of relief. Thank God that was over. And he had just bought himself some time to get his head on straight.

It was only after Jackson was long gone that he realized his mistake. If he was going to forget that last night ever happened, he shouldn’t be anywhere near her hotel room.

CHAPTER FOUR

JACKSON WOKE UP to the sound of chimes. She sat up and scanned the room. Her phone alarm flashed in the darkness. Oh, right. The Sydney hotel room. The one she had invited Cameron Blackmore back to for sex last night.

Nice move.

She reached for her phone on the nightstand and shut off the alarm. Stretching, she flopped back onto the bed. After six hours of sleep, the fog was finally lifting off her thoughts.

Which was a good thing because Cameron would be knocking on her door soon.

She rolled out of bed, washed her face and squeezed back into business attire, muttering to herself through the whole process. What the hell was she thinking last night? Actually she knew exactly what she’d been thinking: this guy is unbelievable. Scorching. Tempting enough to have a little of that fun Rob thought she was constitutionally incapable of. The kind of fun she had never let herself have.

Just one night indulging in one of those “good things” she was long overdue for, and where did that get her? She managed to find the one man in Sydney she absolutely should not have sex with, under any circumstance. She was supposed to be fixing his reputation, not succumbing to it. She doubted the board would praise her thorough investigation skills in this area.

Jackson reached for her purse and pulled out her little red book. She flipped through the worn pages until she found the one labeled Sydney. The last item she had written was Manly Beach. She grabbed a pencil and wrote underneath, “Hot sex in Sydney.” And then crossed it out. At least something good should come out of this mess.

Damn Cameron Blackmore and his deep voice and his stupid muscles he’d caught her staring at this morning. Who the hell had biceps you could see through a business shirt? And damn her own traitorous body. This morning she’d pictured office fantasies she didn’t even know she had. The kinds of fantasies she should absolutely not be thinking about right before a dinner meeting with his team. The kind her career-oriented mind tried hard to avoid.

Shit. And now he was coming to her room? No.

Jackson stuffed the little red book back into her purse and grabbed her files. She leafed through them until she came to Cameron Blackmore’s contact information, then sent him a text.

Meet me in the lobby.

Good. Maybe she could get this whole crazy first twenty-four hours in Sydney under control. And hope Cameron Blackmore didn’t figure out that she was probably more at risk of losing her job than he was if anyone found out.

Jackson exhaled loudly and looked at the clock. Enough time to check her messages. She opened her laptop and got to work, reading through the updates from her other clients, responding to Kyle’s questions. Luckily, Kyle was a brilliant assistant, much more on top of things than any other twenty-three-year-old she had worked with before. Jackson’s shoulders sank in relief. No fires to put out.

She hovered her cursor over the last unopened message, debating whether or not to click on it. She couldn’t ignore a message from her own mother, could she? Okay, she’d done it once or twice in the past, but she was in a different country. Maybe her mother was actually worried. Or excited to hear about her first trip to another continent. Right.

She sighed and clicked on the message. Just as she suspected. No Just checking in to see if you’re okay. No You’re in Sydney! I’m so proud of you. Instead, her mother had sent a link to her sister’s latest blog post featuring the twins. The two-year-olds were feeding each other her sister’s latest homemade baby food creation. Okay, it was cute. Very cute. She could almost hear Marcello and Marco’s laughter as they stuffed each other’s mouths full, dripping all over the expensive tile floors of Jami and Fabio’s Brooklyn town house. But Jami wouldn’t worry about that—the maid would clean up later. Her sister would be enjoying the moment, enjoying her domestic bliss.

Unlike Jackson, Jami had managed the seemingly impossible task of living up to all their mother’s expectations. She had a faithful husband, adorable kids, a big house and a successful career. For extra-credit bonus, Jami was so damn nice and good-natured. Her sister really was happy, and Jackson admired that, even if it wasn’t quite the kind of happiness she was looking for. Jami had survived a type-A mother, a philandering father and their inevitably calamitous divorce relatively unscathed. Jackson? Well, she had survived. Unscathed? Debatable.

At the end of the message, her mother hadn’t forgotten to add her favorite saying: “Good things come to those who wait.” Thanks, Mom. Really subtle. As if Jackson were just killing time in Sydney while waiting for the rest of the things on her mother’s success checklist to fall into place. She was on her own path...or, rather, she was on a ten-year plan to get onto her own path.

She gritted her teeth and hit Reply.

Thanks for sending. Marcello and Marco are adorable, as always. PS I’m having a great time in Sydney.

For once, she was grateful her mother would never think to ask about the nature of her “great time.” Jackson closed her laptop and headed for the bathroom once more, pushing her mother out of her mind. She was finally in another country, a place where people went about life differently, thought about things differently. What would it be like to live another life, just for a while? That question was what had sparked her dreams of traveling long ago, when her parents were at their worst. But now traveling was more about adventure than escape, though an evening with Cameron Blackmore had certainly given her an X-rated perspective on what another life could feel like. She put on her makeup and practiced her cool, business-only smile in the mirror. She had faced sexy, built men before. She could do this.

Jackson browsed her shoe selection. Flats for walking, or heels to combat the height difference between mammoth Cameron and her? She frowned. Cameron wasn’t making any wardrobe decisions based on her. No reason for her to do so for him, either.

She grabbed her flats, put them on and headed for the hotel room door. She swung it open and stepped out. And crashed into a large, solid body.

She heard an “oof,” and strong arms closed around her before she fell to the ground.

Cameron.

For a moment, neither of them moved. His arms encircled her and she breathed in his warm, musky scent. God, he smelled good. She softened into him...

What the hell was she doing?

Jackson scrambled away. “You were supposed to meet me in the lobby,” she snapped.

A look of realization crossed his face. “I wasn’t sure who that message was from.”

“You often get messages from women who want to meet you in the lobby?”

He opened his mouth to answer, but she cut him off. “Let’s just go.”

Jackson brushed by him and headed for the elevator. She reached the doors first and pressed the button. He shifted as they waited in silence. Was Cameron dreading the ride in this particular enclosed space, too? He loomed next to her, his bulky frame distractingly there.

The doors opened, and she didn’t wait for any chivalrous gestures. She walked in and pressed the button for the lobby. The doors closed. She stole a glance at Cameron. He looked oblivious to her presence.

Damn him. How could he ignore what they had done together in this elevator less than twenty-four hours ago? And then there was the sex. Really, really good sex. She had never believed in all that “men are from Mars” crap, but for the first time, she wondered if men really were fundamentally different from women. Because as hard as she tried, she couldn’t just turn off her reaction to him. And he could clearly turn off his.

The elevator dinged, and Jackson stomped out. She started for the lobby doors, not bothering to check if Cameron was following.

“Jackson?”

She stopped and turned around. “What?”

He caught up with her and stopped way too close for her current state of mind. Crap. Stepping farther away meant showing him just how poorly she was handling the “casual” part of casual sex. So she stayed put and wiped all traces of lust from her face. She hoped.

Over six feet of suit and muscle hovered only inches away. She tipped up her chin and met his gaze. Cameron was looking down at her with unexpected softness.

“We’re not going to get through dinner like this,” he said. His voice resonated inside her, quiet and intimate.

Jackson bit her lip. “You mean I’m not going to get through dinner. You seem to be well-practiced at this.”

Cameron’s eyes hardened. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“You’re right,” she said. “And you know nothing about me.”

Jackson frowned. Maybe she was being a little harsh, but the gist of this conversation was right on. They knew nothing about each other. He didn’t know about Cheater Rob and his “sensitive” dick or her ten-year plan or how much work it took to get this job or anything else that had landed her here in Sydney for what was becoming a nightmare assignment. Their night together was supposed to be about letting go, about fun.

And she certainly did let go and have fun with Cameron. Now why the hell couldn’t she just move on and stop drooling every time he was in sight?

Still, it wasn’t his fault that she was temperamentally incapable of just having a fling. They were working together. She had to stop snapping at him.

Jackson took a deep breath. “Look, this has all been a bit much for me. We made a mistake, and there’s nothing to do about it but move on.” She gave him a smile she hoped looked confident. “I’ll be fine at dinner.”

The corners of his mouth tipped down, but he didn’t say anything.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

They headed out of the lobby and onto the street. As the warm air hit her, some of the tension eased. While New York was cold and gray in November, Sydney’s summer was just coming into full swing. They came to the street corner, and a warm, gentle breeze blew from the direction of the water.

“The restaurant’s not too far,” said Cameron. “You okay walking?”

“Of course,” she said and stepped off the curb to cross.

A large, warm arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her back just as a car swerved around the corner. Her breath caught in her throat. The driver honked his horn, and Cameron gave the guy the finger. He held her against the hard muscles of his chest for an extra beat.

“Look right, sweetheart,” he whispered in her ear. “We drive on the other side of the road down here, remember?”

Right. She had managed to make it through the previous twenty-four hours without stepping in front of a car, but with a giant distraction named Cameron Blackmore standing next to her, her brain was apparently having trouble multitasking.

“Thanks,” she mumbled. “Maybe you should lead.”

He chuckled and released her. She straightened up. Get it together, girl. She was about to meet Cameron’s team. She gave herself a little shake and tried to focus on the scenery.

Like in New York, tall glass facades mingled with older stone and brick buildings, but the Sydney streets felt cleaner. The whole city felt cleaner and brighter. It was rush hour, and a steady flow of people poured out of the offices and stores onto stone-laid sidewalks. Wow. She was actually in Australia.

Thank God she hadn’t worn heels. Even flats were pressing on her toes. “Not too far” clearly meant something entirely different in Australian. Or maybe it was the fact that she took two steps for every one of Cameron’s.

Jackson slowed when the harbor came into view.

“This is Circular Quay,” Cameron said, pointing at the ferry terminal. “We’re going to meet the team at a place out along the water.”

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