“Ah, it seems that you two have some sort of personal issue going on here. But we were in the middle of a meeting and—” a male voice interrupted.
Camille paused, almost stopped breathing as she listened.
It couldn’t be.
She’d dreamt of that voice.
Every night for the last six months, except for the two weeks after her father’s death, she’d dreamt of that voice, that man.
The deep timbre resonated throughout her entire body. The sound moved from her ears and slithered down her spine spreading familiar spikes of warmth in its wake.
Camille paused, then moved in a way that had her convinced the entire room had been switched to slow motion.
Their gazes met and held.
“—ah, we were…” The man in her dreams cleared his throat.
It was him. From the close-cropped hair and smiling eyes to the strong jaw and not-too-thick lips. It was him and she didn’t know how to react.
The man sitting beside her dream man stood. “What my partner is trying to say is that you and Mrs. Davis should probably deal with your family business at another time. We are in the middle of a very important meeting.”
Moreen interrupted. “I must apologize. This is my stepdaughter, Camille Davis.”
The man extended his hand and nodded. “I’m Maxwell Donovan.”
Camille accepted his hand with a brief nod. He was certainly easy on the eyes with his caramel-toned skin and funny-colored eyes. But he was nothing in comparison to the man beside him. The man she couldn’t bring herself to look at again.
“This is my partner, Adam Donovan.”
Camille sighed. The man in her dreams now had a name.
It would be rude not to look at him now especially since he was also standing and extending his hand. She took a deep breath and accepted his hand as well.
In her more fanciful thoughts she expected sparks to fly or maybe fireworks to explode in the distant sky at their first touch. What she didn’t expect was that warmth his voice had solicited to swirl and center in the pit of her stomach then slowly slither lower.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Davis. Since you obviously have an interest in this deal, why don’t you take a seat and join us,” he said in that voice that Camille swore would make any woman scream.
Camille sat, ignoring Moreen’s evil glare from beside her.
“As I was saying,” Max continued. “This meeting was simply to get an idea of what was on the table. We haven’t made any formal offers nor has Mrs. Davis accepted anything from us. However, we have done some preliminary investigation into the property. The property is a value all by itself. And the house, while in good condition, can be worth almost double once we’re finished with it. Your father was a businessman—I’m sure you would agree that he would at least entertain our offer.”
“It’s too much space for me, Camille. And you haven’t lived there in years,” Moreen pleaded.
“It was my father’s house. I was born there and I grew up there. It’s not for sale,” she said adamantly. “If she informed you otherwise then she was out of line.”
Camille stood to leave. In her mind there was nothing more to discuss.
She expected the silence. Or maybe she expected Moreen to start on one of her tirades. What she did not expect—but probably should have since this seemed to be the year of surprises for her—was the touch on her arm.
“Why don’t you hear us out and then decide if you’re interested?” Adam asked.
Adam already knew he was interested…in her, that is.
The moment she walked in that door, he’d remembered. He’d sat in his seat and replayed the night he’d first met her.
His brother Linc had just gotten married, effectively disrupting the reputation of the Triple Threat Brothers. That’s what Adam and his two older brothers were known as because of their good looks, hefty bank accounts and irrefutable desire to remain bachelors. Now the three were down to two, but Adam wasn’t complaining. Linc had made a wise choice. Jade was a good woman and she made his brother a better man.
The wedding reception had gone into the early morning hours, long after the bride and groom had left for their honeymoon. Adam had been ready to leave.
Then he’d bumped into her.
She smelled of chic, expensive perfume and felt like silk the brief moment she was in his arms. He distinctly remembered looking down into her pixielike face, falling into deep chocolate-brown eyes, slightly slanted with a soulful depth that reached inside and clutched his heart instantly. Those eyes held secrets, pain and a longing he could almost identify with, and yet he didn’t even know her name.
“Sorry.” She spoke and the smoky sound of her voice slid through him with a slow and steady warmth, like fine wine.
He hadn’t released his hold on her, although she was perfectly secure in standing on her own. He just couldn’t bring himself to end the connection. She wore short sleeves and the soft skin beneath his hands was simply too tempting.
“Don’t be. It was my fault. I should have looked where I was going,” he’d said because he should say something. After all, staring was rude.
She made a move to leave and he panicked. “Wait! I mean, ah, are you staying at the hotel or just visiting?”
Tilting her head to the side made her hair—silky brown strands stopping abruptly at her chin—swish to one side, covering half of one eye. She stared at him and the low hum of attraction vibrated in his groin. She was shockingly sexy. Why that was a shock he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
“I was in the casino and now I’m trying to leave. Is that okay with you?”
There was a definite bite to her words but the sarcasm didn’t reach her eyes. He focused there because if his gaze dropped down to her lips again he’d most certainly have to kiss her. Then as if a lightbulb had gone off in his head he’d remembered who and where he was and released her. “Of course, it’s okay. It’s getting late—I just wanted to know if I needed to call you a cab or not.”
She blinked, curiosity brimming in those alluring eyes. “No, thank you. I think I’ll be fine.”
She did move around him then, and when he’d turned was walking away with quick, purposeful strides. She wore slacks, nice, dark slacks designed most likely for comfort or businesslike attire that mysteriously aroused him.
He’d sighed and returned to the ballroom to enjoy the festivities. And while she was gone from sight her presence still occupied space in his mind, so much so that sleep had been hard to come by.
He hadn’t forgotten her but he hadn’t expected to ever see her again, either.
Now she was here, standing in the conference room of Donovan Investments, Inc., throwing a very attractive monkey wrench in one of his biggest acquisitions.
She was the same and yet she was different. Her hair was swept up into a curly style that gave her an air of sophistication that didn’t quite fit her. She was tense and guarded; agitated and uncertain. And he wanted to know why.
“I’m not interested,” she said.
And he felt a slap to his ego. He had to remind himself that she wasn’t telling him she was not interested in him personally. Still, her words stung.
“Just hear us out.”
She sighed heavily and walked back to the table. Over her shoulder Adam caught a glimpse of Max’s approving expression and suppressed a grin.
Donovan Investments, Inc. was growing steadily.