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asked on a low voice snatched away by the breeze. If he weren’t standing so close, she would have missed his words. “I know you want me as much as I want you. We’ve been dancing around this attraction for three years, and while I enjoy the flirting and sexy wordplay, I’m ready to move to the next level.”
    “There isn’t a ‘next level’. What we have can never go anywhere.”
    He turned her to face him. “Why?”
    She dropped her gaze to their feet. Her strappy red high-heels were only a couple of inches from his shiny black dress shoes. “Because it can’t.” Even to herself, she sounded defeated.
    “It can’t or you won’t let it?”
    She moistened her lips, raised her gaze back to his. “It’s the same thing.”
    His eyes, dark with desire, dropped to her mouth. “I disagree.” He held her chin with one hand while his other hand stroked her cheek. “Can’t suggests something outside of your control stops you. Won’t implies internal conflict. Which is it, Sandy? What’s really stopping you?”
    How could she tell him she had a father wound so wide and deep she feared she’d never heal enough to let any man in? Taking a deep breath, she pushed away from him. “You are, Cameron... you .”
    His brows shot up. “Me?”
    “You’re nothing more than a pretty-boy with daddy’s millions to play with. I can’t be with someone like you.”
    Snaking an arm around her waist, he drew her against him. “You’re wrong, sweetheart. I’m so much more than that .” In a smooth move, Cameron dipped his head and settled his lips on hers.
    She had time to avert her face, he’d given her enough warning, but for a crazy instant she didn’t want to avoid his kiss. For a moment, she wanted to experience what it was like to give herself over to the pleasure of being kissed by Cameron.
    The moment his lips touched hers an electric charge almost knocked her off her feet, melting her willpower as thoroughly as the sensation of his cool lips moving on hers.

7

    C ameron buried his fingers in her hair, dislodging the clips so her curls spilled over his hands, and lifted his lips. Sandy raised her lashes and blinked up at him, her golden gaze dark with passion, her red lips devoid of lipstick. He suspected he wore a good portion of it.
    He stepped away from her, ran a shaky hand through his hair, and rubbed at the heat scorching the back of his neck. Kissing Sandy had been a mistake. He blew out a frustrated breath. Rather than satisfy a curiosity, it had made things worse. One kiss wasn’t enough to satisfy his craving for her.
    “Tell me now that you don’t want to take this to the next level.” He knew he challenged her with his gaze, dared her to deny what had happened between them a moment ago.
    “Why me, Cameron? Why are you so intent on making me your mistress?”
    “Whoa! Mistress?” Where had that come from? “First off, mistress is a little old-fashioned, don’t you think? And secondly, I don’t remember mentioning the word ‘mistress’.”
    She tightened her lips as if that alone would make him cower. “Tell me why you’re pursuing me when you can have any woman you want.” She jabbed a forefinger toward the ballroom. “Almost every woman in there would fall into your bed if you asked. Why bother with me?”
    There was only one thing left for Cameron to do—lay his heart at her feet. “I love you, Sandy.”
    He clasped her hands in his, her icy fingers urging him to warm her. All she wore was a strappy satin dress beneath his jacket. He pulled her back into his arms, using his body to shield her from the cold.
    Rubbing his cheek against her lustrous hair, he inhaled the sweet-scented silk. “I think I fell in love with you the first time you called me ‘trust-fund baby’.”
    When Sandy didn’t chuckle along with him—didn’t respond—Cameron leaned back enough to get a glimpse of her face.
    Shell-shocked was the only word he could think of to describe her expression. A tremor