‘I don’t know. On the one hand, I’d do anything for Cameron, but...’
‘But?’ He challenged, though he knew the answer. Their chemistry frightened her. For whatever reason, the strength of desire that had arced between them wasn’t something she wanted to indulge—ever.
Desperation drove him to tighten the screws regardless. ‘Let’s be clear: my plans will not change. One way or another, in two weeks I will take Cameron with me, away from here. If you care about him, and want to help ease him through the transition period, then accept my offer.’
She sucked in a sharp breath. ‘You know, this runs pretty darned close to emotional blackmail.’
His expression didn’t shift but he was left wondering in what way this didn’t constitute full-blown emotional blackmail.
She flicked a glance at her wristwatch. ‘I have to go.’
Something uncomfortably like panic had him reaching for her wrist, his fingers curving around her fine bones, his thumb padding over her skin before he could stop himself. ‘Wait.’ The word emerged as a deep, husky command. ‘You haven’t given me an answer.’
‘Do I get to think about it?’
‘Do you need to think about it?’
She pulled her hand away, rubbing her wrist; her eyes holding his were awash with doubts. ‘I would have conditions.’
‘Go on.’ He dropped her hand, stepping backward, crossing his arms over his chest. He forced himself to give her the entirety of his concentration.
‘I have work commitments outside of the school. I’d need an office for my use.’
That sparked his curiosity—hell, it ignited it into a full-blown fireball—but he knew better than to probe her further at this point. Once she was on the island, he could ask her all sorts of questions, if he found she still held his interest. Not now, while her acceptance was in the balance.
‘That is not a problem.’
‘Okay.’ She chewed on her lip in a way that drove him utterly crazy.
‘Okay? You’ll do it?’
She stopped nodding and frowned. ‘Okay, I’ll think about it. Send me a contract and I’ll advise your lawyers as to my response.’
CHAPTER FOUR
SHE HAD TO be crazy. For two weeks she’d back-flipped on this, wondering at her acceptance of this summer job—which was how she’d taken to thinking of it, the only way she could deal with what she’d accepted without going into a full-blown panic.
It was just work. A temporary assignment. And, more than that, it was an opportunity to help Cameron get through another trauma in his life. She knew what change was like for children—how many times had she been forced to move, to meet new people, to accept new teachers, homes, experiences? Her childhood had been marked by extreme loneliness, a state of utter sadness and displacement almost all the time, all set against a backdrop that making her parents proud was the only way she could make them love her.
People didn’t seem to realise that having a very high IQ didn’t obviate the normal developmental milestones. Amelia had been plagued by nightmares as a child, one in particular—being consumed by a void, an impenetrable darkness that filled her lungs with bleakness and a weight of despair from which she could never escape. Whenever she’d experienced that terror she’d woken and cried for her mother—but she’d never been there. Often, there had been no one who could comfort her.
Loneliness was familiar to Amelia and she hated that Cameron was going through that now. She wanted to comfort him and that was why she’d agreed to this. It wasn’t the exorbitant amount Santos was paying her—her consulting work paid well; she didn’t need the money. And it certainly wasn’t for any other personal consideration. Santos was no draw-card whatsoever. If anything, he was a disincentive, a reason to refuse his offer.
But Cameron overrode every single one of those concerns. So here she was, holding the little boy’s hand as the helicopter circled lower over an island that was beyond anything she could have imagined. Lush greenery grew quite wild over most of it, with a small village in the north and pristine, white sand all around. The water that lapped at the island’s edges was aquamarine.
As the helicopter came down lower, Amelia picked out an enormous house right on the water’s edge, rendered in white with miles of tinted glass, making it impossible to see into it. The house was a testament to modern architecture, all clean lines and simple aesthetic. There was a swimming pool, several tennis courts, a fruit grove, a golf course and, as she looked towards the water, she saw a jetty at which were moored a yacht and several smaller crafts—speedboats and jet skis lined up side by side.
A curl of derision escaped onto her lips before she could contain it—of course a playboy like Santos had all the toys to go with the title.
She told herself that the butterflies in her tummy had to do with the rapid descent towards the island and nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that soon she would see him again. Santos. She knew from Cameron that Santos had travelled to the island a few days ago, leaving the little boy in the care of his nanny, Talia. Amelia had suppressed her disapproval. Now that she was here, she could see some stability for Cameron’s life.
The helicopter came in even lower, and beside her Cameron was very still and watchful. She angled her face, something clutching in the region of her heart. The first time she’d seen the little boy, he’d looked a bit like this. Far less well-dressed; his uniform had been stained—second-hand, Amelia had gathered—and quite ill-fitting. His face, though, had held a familiar sense of awe, and she’d understood it. He’d been starting nursery and she’d been doing her first teacher’s assistant rotation—she’d told him she was nervous too, and that perhaps they’d feel better if they sat side by side.
He’d moved into different classes over the last few years but she’d always kept an eye out for him and had welcomed him to her class this year with absolute delight. Seeing his grief at the shocking death of his mother had hit Amelia right in the chest—she’d cried with him, for him, and on that first night had wished she could bundle him into her arms and take him home. The instinct had surprised her.
Amelia wasn’t maternal. Her childhood had been as far removed from ‘normal’ as was possible. She had no idea how to be someone’s parent, and no desire to be either. But there was something about Cameron with his soulful blue-grey eyes that had buried itself deep into her heart. Not loving him wasn’t an option. It wasn’t permitted to have favourite students, and she’d taken great care not to show a preference, but that hadn’t meant she didn’t feel it.
The same nervousness and anxiety she’d sensed in him as a slender little three-year-old was in his face now. She put a hand on his knee reassuringly and squeezed. ‘The island looks beautiful.’