Dating the Rebel Tycoon by Ally Blake Page B

moonlight reflected off the water, making the glass buildings on the other side of the river shimmer and blur, until he couldn’t remember what they were meant to signify any more.
    All he knew was that when his car swung into the botanical gardens that morning he’d been on a search for the truth. And he’d found her.
    Maybe he’d regret it, maybe it was the wrong thing to do, but, with his mind filled with that siren voice calling for him to give himself a break, to admit his flaws, to confess…the words just tumbled out.
    ‘What would you say if I told you that I have spent my day certain that my father is gravely ill, and that I’ve kept it to myself?’

CHAPTER FIVE

    T HE second the words came out of his mouth Cameron wished he could shove them back in again. Rosalind was meant to be distracting him from worrying about the bastard, not inducing him to tell all.
    ‘That the kind of thing you were after?’ he asked.
    ‘I was kind of hoping you might admit to singing in the shower,’ she said with a gentle smile. But her voice was husky, warm, affected. It snuck beneath his defences and spoke to places inside him he’d rather she left alone.
    ‘Tell me about your dad,’ she said.
    He ran a quick hand up the back of his hair and cleared his throat. ‘Actually, I’d prefer we talk about something else. You a footy fan?’
    ‘Not so much.’
    He clamped his teeth together, betting that his stubborn streak was wider than hers. She leaned forward and sat still until he couldn’t help but make eye contact. The beguiling depths told him she’d give him a run for his money.
    ‘Look, Cameron, I don’t always have my head in the stars. I do know who you are. I get that it might be difficult to know who you can trust when everybody wants to know your business. But you can trust me. Nothing you say here will go any further. I promise.’
    Cameron wondered what had happened to a promise of nopromises. Then realised things had been at full swing since they’d caught up, and he’d yet to make that clear.
    ‘Unless you’d really rather talk about football,’ she said, giving his concentration whiplash. ‘I can fake it.’
    Her eyes caught him again, and they were smiling, encouraging, empathetic, kind. He couldn’t talk to his family; he couldn’t talk to his friends or workmates. It seemed the one person he’d taken into his life to distract him from his problems might be the only one who could help him confront them instead.
    He ran his fingers hard over his eyes. ‘He was on TV this morning, talking oil prices, Aussie dollar, housing crisis and the like. He flirted with the anchorwoman, and ate up so much time the weather girl only had time to give the day’s temps. Nothing out of the ordinary. And for the first time in my life he seemed…small.’
    ‘Small?’
    He glanced sideways, having half-forgotten anyone was there. ‘Which now that I’ve said it out loud seems ridiculous. Look, can we forget it? We don’t have to talk footy. We can talk shoes. Glitter nail-polish. Chocolate.’
    ‘I want to talk about this. You know your dad. He didn’t seem himself. Worrying about him isn’t ridiculous. It’s human. And you know what? It kinda suits you.’
    ‘Worry suits me?’ he asked.
    ‘Letting yourself be human suits you.’ She closed one eye, and held up a hand to frame him. ‘Mmm. It mellows all those hard edges quite nicely.’
    Cameron rubbed a hand across his jaw as he looked harder at the extraordinary woman at his side. He wondered what on earth he’d done right in a former life to have had her offered up before him this morning of all mornings.
    She opened her squinting eye and dropped her hand. Those eyes. Those wide, open eyes. Attraction mixed with concern, and unguarded interest. No wonder he hadn’t been able to resist.
    She looked down into her melting gelato . ‘Are your family worried?’
    ‘I’m fairly sure they don’t suspect.’ If they had, there was no way they