Best Laid Plans

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?”