about owing her anything.
Callie’s eyes fluttered closed as his breath stirred the hair at her temple and his accent slithered down her spine and tingled where his palm held her fast. She pulled back slightly until she was looking into his eyes. Light brown with tawny flecks. Like amber. Like whisky.
‘You think I can’t afford five grand?’ she challenged.
Cade’s gaze was drawn briefly to the way the subdued light from the magnificent overhead chandeliers glowed in the rich emerald of her eyes before being distracted by her mouth. Her lipstick was a deep scarlet and seemed to beckon with a simmering but subdued sexuality. ‘I didn’t say that.’
Callie shrugged. ‘It’s a damn good cause. I’d be a lousy representative of the hospital I work at and the unit I love if I didn’t show my support in some way.’
‘Five thousand bucks is a little extreme,’ Cade said dryly.
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Callie said, settling back to peer over his shoulder again as his raw masculine scent found its way past her usually impenetrable veneer. ‘I’ll consider it my public service for the year. Plus, I’m thinking it might be good to have you in my debt.’
Cade grimaced as her hair brushed his cheek again. ‘That’s what I’m afraid of.’
Callie laughed at the dread in his voice. She didn’t like to give anyone control over her life, either. A disastrous teenage marriage had taught her that. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said as the occasional brush of Cade’s thighs caused her pulse to flutter, ‘I’ll wield my power wisely.’
Cade snorted—screw that. He’d avoided dating since his arrival in Australia, but obligation was to be avoided even more. ‘How about we just get it over and done with?’ he suggested. ‘You paid five thousand dollars to go out on a date with me so…let’s do it.’
Callie shut her eyes, trying to tune in to the music rather than the slow thick pounding of her pulse at his ‘let’s do it’. He didn’t mean it, and she had no desire to go out on a date with him. Mind-blowing, head-banging sex, sure, but he’d already made it perfectly clear that any horizontal recreation was off the table. And she just didn’t do the whole dating thing.
‘I don’t date,’ she said.
Cade frowned. ‘What do you mean, you don’t date?’ Wasn’t that what women wanted?
‘I don’t date,’ Callie repeated, as she once again pulled back to look at him. ‘Haven’t since my teens. I refuse to. Like you, it would seem.’
Cade wasn’t sure what to make of that. He’d spent his entire adult life dating women as a way into their beds. And then done a complete about-turn and spent the last couple of months deflecting those who wanted nothing more than to score a date with him. Her lipstick glistened in the subtle light from above and he couldn’t believe a woman in possession of such a fine mouth didn’t enjoy many a date.
‘I’ve never met a woman who didn’t date. Or who didn’t want to, anyway.’
‘Oh, is that only a male prerogative in the good old US of A?’ Callie enquired sweetly. ‘I think you’re meeting entirely the wrong type of woman,’ she continued. ‘I’m honoured to be your first.’
She smiled at him and Cade’s loins heated at the deliberately provocative language coming from that sexy painted mouth. ‘Is there a particular reason why you don’t like to indulge in pleasant social discourse with the opposite sex?’
‘Is there a particular reason why you don’t?’ she countered. Her reasons were her own and not up for discussion. As she suspected his were.
Cade gave a half smile. He’d never been told so politely to mind his own business. ‘Touché,’ he murmured, and they swayed in silence for a moment or two before he said, ‘So you paid five grand for nothing?’ he clarified.
Callie shrugged. ‘Not necessarily. You never know when the need for a male escort might just pop up.’
‘Great,’ Cade grumbled, feigning his best insulted look. ‘Now I feel like a gigolo.’
‘Well, at least you’re the expensive kind.’
He blinked at her bald inference and then laughed. To his surprise she joined him and the light, throaty noise enveloped him in its sexy resonance. He’d heard her laugh before, of course—at work. She was always kidding around, when appropriate, with the staff on the NICU or the wards—particularly the male staff.
Oh, yes, she had great rapport with her male colleagues and she was resoundingly liked by them all. It was obvious she enjoyed being ‘one of the boys’. The blokey, slightly off-colour language and good-natured ribbing came easily to her.
She felt pretty easy in his arms, too, and her laughter reminded him again that it had been a long time since he’d allowed a woman inside his head.
‘It’s the accent, isn’t it?’ he said suddenly, a little miffed that the woman in his arms seemed to have no interest in him whatsoever. It might be all his conceited American arrogance, but women were always interested. ‘It’s too brash, right?’
Callie smiled. ‘Nope.’
‘But you don’t think it’s exotic and charming?’ he pressed.
Callie shrugged. ‘I prefer the British accent.’
‘Damn,’ Cade murmured. ‘That Hugh Grant has a lot to answer for.’ She laughed and it curled straight into his ear and brushed down the side of his neck. He thought a little more. ‘It’s that we work together?’
Callie sighed at his persistence. ‘Look…it’s not you. It’s not your accent or that we work together. I just prefer to…cut to the chase…with men.’
She looked at him, their gazes meshing. ‘I’m not looking for a husband or to cede control of my life to someone. I like sex,’ she said, figuring from what she knew of him that Cade would appreciate the direct approach. ‘I don’t need a candlelight dinner before or to snuggle afterwards. I’m busy with a career that pretty much takes over my whole life so I know what I want and how to ask for it. But you’ve already made it clear that you aren’t interested so…there’s no need to pretend.’
Suddenly Cade understood where Callie’s hesitancy to cash in her chips was coming from. ‘Ah, I get it. This is about me rejecting your advances that time.’
Callie frowned. ‘No. It’s not.’
‘Okay,’ he said, not believing her for a moment. But she had given him the perfect opportunity to clear the air over that. ‘About that…’
Callie shook her head. ‘No. Let’s not go there, please. It was a major error of judgement on my behalf and, as you’re probably aware, I don’t make errors of judgement. It was a weird night… . Weddings kind of do that to me. And I was a little tipsy.’
‘It’s okay,’ Cade said.
‘No. It’s really not,’ she insisted. ‘I embarrassed myself. And you. I still feel embarrassed about it. So if we could not talk about it now, or ever, preferably…’
