Scandalous Sins: Unwrapping His Convenient Fiancée / The Sheikh's Pregnant Prisoner / Snowbound with His Innocent Temptation

When Cam took Amy’s hand, Violet thought her flatmate was going to fall into a swoon. ‘Pleased to meet you,’ he said.

Amy’s cheeks were bright pink and her mouth seemed to be having trouble closing. ‘Same.’

Violet picked up her coat and Cam stood behind her and helped her into it. His body was so close she could feel its warmth and smell that intriguing blend of his aftershave. He briefly rested his hands on the tops of her shoulders before stepping away. While he was facing the other way, Amy gave her the thumbs-up sign, eyes bright with excitement. Violet picked up her purse and followed Cam to the door.

‘Have a good time!’ Amy’s voice had a sing-song quality to it that made Violet feel like a teen going out on her first date.

Cam led her to his car, parked a few metres down the rain-slicked street. ‘How many flatmates do you have?’

‘Two. Amy and Stefanie.’

Violet slipped into the plush leather seat of his showroom-perfect convertible. There was no way she could ever imagine a couple of kids’ seats in the back. His car was like his lifestyle—free and fast. Not that he was a hardened playboy or anything. But he was hardly a monk. He was a healthy man of thirty-four, in the prime of his life. Why wouldn’t he make the most of his freedom? How many women had experienced that divine mouth? That gorgeous body and all the sensual delights it promised?

Probably more than she wanted to think about.

‘I’m sorry about Amy back there,’ Violet said after they were on the move. ‘She can be a bit over the top.’

Cam glanced her way. ‘Did I pass the test?’

Violet could feel an annoying blush creeping over her cheeks. ‘The girls have a checklist for potential dates. No smokers, no heavy drinkers, no drugs, no tattoos. Must be gainfully employed, must respect women, must wear a condom... I mean during...you know...not at the time of meeting... That would be ridiculous.’

Cam’s deep laugh made the base of her spine quiver. ‘Good to know I tick all the boxes.’

Violet swivelled in her seat to look at him. ‘So what’s on your checklist?’

He appeared to think about it for a moment or maybe it was because he was concentrating on the traffic snarl ahead. ‘Nothing specific. Intelligence is always good, a sense of humour.’

‘Looks?’

He gave a lip shrug. ‘Not as important as other qualities.’

‘But you’ve only ever dated incredibly beautiful women. I’ve seen photos of them. Fraser showed me.’

‘Mere coincidence.’

Violet snorted. ‘Well-to-do men are selective when choosing a lover. Women, in general, are much more accepting over looks. It’s a well-known fact.’

‘What are you looking for in a partner?’

Violet looked at her hands where they were clutching her purse. ‘I guess I want what my parents have—a partner who loves me despite my faults and is there for me no matter what.’

‘Your parents are a tough act to follow.’

She let out a long sigh. ‘Tell me about it.’

* * *

The dinner was at a restaurant in Soho. Cam’s client had booked a private room and he and his wife were already seated at the table when they arrived. The man rose and greeted Cam warmly. ‘So good you could join us. Sophia has been excited about it all day, haven’t you, agapi mou?’

Sophia was excited all right. Violet could see the sultry gleam in those dark eyes as they roved Cam’s body like she was mentally undressing him.

Cam’s arm was around Violet’s waist. ‘Nick and Sophia Nicolaides, this is my partner Violet. Darling, this is Nick and Sophia.’

Partner? What was wrong with girlfriend? Partner sounded a little more...permanent. But then he wanted to make sure Sophia got the message loud and clear. ‘Darling’ was a nice touch, however. Violet quite liked that. No one had ever called her that before. She got ‘poppet’ and ‘wee one’ from her parents and her grandad called her Vivi like her siblings did. ‘I’m very pleased to meet you both,’ she said. ‘Cam’s told me all about you. Are you in London long?’

‘Until New Year,’ Nick said. ‘Sophia’s never had an English Christmas before.’

Sophia looked like all her Christmases and New Year’s Eves had come at once when she slid her hand through Cam’s arm. ‘You’re a dark horse, aren’t you?’ she said. ‘You never told us you had a partner. Are you engaged?’

Cam’s smile looked a little tight around the edges as he disentangled himself from Sophia’s tentacle-like arm. ‘Not yet.’

Not yet? Didn’t that imply he was actually considering it? Violet had trouble keeping her expression composed. Even though she knew he was only saying it for the sake of appearances, her heart still gave an excited little leap. Not that she was in love with him or anything. She was just imagining what it would be like if she was. How it would feel to have him look at her with that tender look he was sending her way and actually mean it. For real.

Sophia smiled but it didn’t crease her eyes at the corners, although that could have been because of Botox. Meow. Violet wasn’t normally the critical type but something about the predatory nature of Nick Nicolaides’ wife irritated her beyond measure. Sophia looked like the type of woman for whom the word ‘no’ was a challenge rather than an obstacle. What Sophia wanted, Sophia got. No matter what. And Sophia wanted Cam. It was a wonder Nick couldn’t see it. Or was Nick so enamoured with his young, stunningly beautiful wife he couldn’t see what was right before his eyes?

Violet decided it was time to draw the line, not in sand but in concrete. She gazed up at Cam with what she hoped passed for besotted devotion. ‘I didn’t know you were thinking along those lines this early in our relationship.’

He leaned down and dropped a kiss to her upturned mouth. ‘It’s never too early to say I love you.’

Violet smiled a blissfully happy smile. Who said she couldn’t act? Or maybe she wasn’t acting. Hearing him say those words, even though deep down she knew he didn’t mean them, had a potent effect on her. No one, apart from her family, had told her they loved her. ‘I love you, too, baby.’ She turned her smile up a notch.

Nick slapped Cam on the shoulder. ‘Let’s have a drink to celebrate in advance of the announcement.’

Champagne was ordered and served and the glasses held up in a toast to an engagement that wasn’t going to happen. It felt weird to be part of such a deception but Violet had no choice but to run with it. Sophia kept looking at her, sizing her up as if wondering what on earth Cam saw in her. Violet didn’t let it intimidate her, which was surprising as, under normal circumstances, she would have retreated to the trenches by now.

Dinner was a long, drawn-out affair because Nick wanted to discuss business with Cam, which left Violet to make conversation with Sophia. Never good at small talk, Violet had exhausted her twenty question checklist before the entrées were cleared away.

Cam came to her rescue after what was left of their mains was removed. He excused them both from the table and escorted her out to the restroom. ‘You’re doing great, Violet. Hang in there.’

‘If looks could kill, I’d be lying in a morgue with a tag on my big toe right about now,’ Violet said through clenched teeth. ‘She is such a cow. She’s not even trying to hide how she’s lusting after you. Why can’t Nick see it? She’s so brazen it’s nauseating.’

Cam’s mouth was set in a grim line. ‘I think he does see it but he’s in denial. I don’t want to be the one to take the bullet for pointing it out to him. This project is too important to me. It’s the biggest contract I’ve done and more could follow. Nick has a lot of contacts. Word of mouth is everything in my business.’

Violet studied his tense features for a moment. ‘If she weren’t married would she be the type of woman you’d be involved with?’

‘God, no.’ His tone was adamant. ‘What sort of man do you think I am?’

‘She’s incredibly beautiful.’

‘So are you.’

Violet moistened her lips. ‘You’re terrifyingly good at lying.’

His brows came together. ‘You think I’m lying? Don’t you have mirrors at your flat? You turned every head when you walked through the main restaurant just now.’

Keep it light. Violet smiled a teasing smile to cover her self-consciousness. Compliments had never been her strong point. She knew it was polite to accept them with thanks but she could never quite pull it off with sophisticated aplomb. And if people noticed her when she came into a room, she never saw it. She was always too busy keeping her head down trying not to be noticed. ‘You were lying about the intended proposal.’

His dark blue eyes held hers in a lock that made the base of her spine tingle like sherbet. ‘I can be ruthless when it comes to nailing a business deal, but not that ruthless.’

‘Good to know.’

His phone pinged with an incoming message. His expression turned sour when he checked the screen.

‘Sophia?’ Violet’s tone was incredulous. ‘She texted you while her husband is sitting right next to her?’

Cam expelled a breath and pocketed his phone. ‘Go and powder your nose, I’ll wait for you here.’

* * *

Cam led Violet back to the private dining room. She had reapplied her lipgloss and it made her lips all the more tempting to kiss. Get a grip. This was an act, not the real deal. He wasn’t interested in the real deal. Not with anyone just now and particularly not with a girl he had viewed as a surrogate sister for the last twelve years.

But then last Easter something had changed.

He had changed.

He had suddenly noticed her. As in noticed her. The way she smiled that shy smile that made the corners of her mouth tilt upwards and then quiver, as if uncertain whether to stay there or not. The way she bit her lower lip when she was nervous. The way she moved her body like a graceful dancer. Her beautiful brown eyes that reminded him of caramel. Her creamy skin with that tiny dusting of freckles over the bridge of her nose that he found adorable.

Adorable?

Okay, time to rein it in. He had no right to be thinking about her that way. If he crossed the boundary any further it had the potential to ruin his relationship with her whole family. Three generations of it. He had so many wonderful memories of spending time at Drummond Brae, the big old house set on a Highland estate just out of Inverness. He had met Fraser Drummond in his fourth year at university in London when they were both twenty-two. It felt like a lifetime ago now.

But he still remembered the first time he had visited the Drummond family. It was nothing like any of the families he had been a part of, his nuclear family in particular. He had been struck by their warmth, the way they loved and accepted each other; the easygoing bonhomie between them was something he had never witnessed outside of a television show. Sure, they argued, but no one shouted or swore obscenities or threw things or stormed out in a huff. No one went through an insanely bitter divorce and then refused to have the other person’s name mentioned in their presence ever again. Violet’s parents were as in love with each other as the first day they’d met. Their solid relationship was the backbone of the family, the scaffolding providing the safety net of stability that allowed each sibling to grow to their full potential. Even the way Margie Drummond was taking care of her ill ninety-year-old father-in-law Archie was indicative of the unconditional love that flowed in the family.

Cam had become an ancillary part of that family in a way he wouldn’t dream of compromising, even if it meant ignoring the persistent drumbeat of lust he had going on for Violet—the baby of the clan. Who was doing an excellent job of pretending to be in love with him at the moment.

But it was far more than the fear of compromising his relationship with her family that held him back. How could he even think about settling down when he was all over the place with work commitments? He was driven to succeed and the only way to succeed was to put everything else on hold. Work was his focus. His first priority. His only priority. If he got distracted now, he could jeopardise everything he’d worked so hard for since the day he’d been left at boarding school. He was used to being an island. Self-sufficient.

Violet resumed her seat next to Cam at the table and looped her slim arm through his, gazing up at him with those big brown eyes as if she thought the world began and ended and only made sense with him. This close he could smell her perfume, a bewitching combination of spring flowers that tantalised his senses until he felt slightly drunk. Or mad. Definitely mad. Mad with lust. He could feel it pounding in his pelvis when she leaned closer, her slim pale hand sliding down to his.

Her touch should not be having this effect on him. He was not a lust-crazed teenager. Normally he could control himself. But if she looked at his lap right now, he’d have some explaining to do. He still had some explaining to do after that kiss. He had been hard for her with one kiss. One kiss, for God’s sake! What sort of tragic did that make him? Yes, he hadn’t had sex in a while but he’d been busy since Easter... And no, it had nothing to do with seeing Violet that weekend. Nothing to do with noticing her in a way he had never done before.

Or had it?

Had he not pursued the many opportunities he’d had for a casual fling because something had gnawed at him since Easter? The sense that there had to be something more...something more than a few drinks or dinners, a few mostly satisfactory tumbles and a ‘goodbye, thanks for the memories’?

For years he had been perfectly content with his lifestyle. He enjoyed the freedom to take on extra work without the pressure of being responsible for someone’s emotional upkeep. He had seen both of his parents struggle and fail to meet the needs of each other and their subsequent partners whilst juggling the demands of a career and family. It had always looked like too much hard work.

But there was something to be said for feeling something more than basic lust for a sexual partner. Kissing Violet had felt...different somehow. The connection they had as long-term friends had brought a completely different dynamic to the kiss. He couldn’t quite explain it. Maybe he would have to kiss her again... There’s a thought.

‘Smile for the camera,’ Sophia said from the other side of the table, holding up her phone.

Cam smiled and leaned his head against Violet’s fragrant one, her hair tickling his cheek, her closeness doing something dangerous to his hormones. The photo was taken and Sophia sat back with a Cheshire cat smile. He didn’t trust that smile. He didn’t trust that woman. He didn’t trust his deal with Nick would be secure until the contract was signed, sealed and delivered. But Nick was dragging things out a bit. This trip to London was obviously part of the stalling campaign. Cam couldn’t help feeling he was being subjected to some sort of test. Maybe Nick knew exactly what his flirty young wife was up to but wanted to see how Cam would deal with it.

He was dealing with it just fine. With Violet’s help. But how long would he have to play pretend? This weekend was fine. But after that? There was only one more week before Christmas. If word got out... His gut seized at the thought. Why had he got himself into this? Seeing Violet in that café earlier had been purely coincidence.

Or had it?

He had felt drawn to that café as if a navigational device inside his body had taken him there. When he’d seen her sitting there all alone something had shifted inside him. Like a gear going up a notch. He had gone from noticing her to wanting her...as in wanting her. He had offered to take her to the party not because he felt sorry for her but because he couldn’t bear the thought of some sleazy colleague trying it on with her.

Green-eyed monster?

You bet.

CHAPTER THREE

VIOLET WASN’T SURE she liked the idea of Sophia having photos of her and Cam but what could she do? She had to play along and pretend everything was fine. Thing was, it felt fine. Leaning against him, smiling up at him, looking into those amazingly blue eyes of his that crinkled up at the corners when he smiled—all of it felt so fine she had trouble remembering this was all an act. That it wasn’t going to last beyond the weekend.

‘Nick and I are going to dance at the nightclub down the road,’ Sophia said. ‘Come and join us.’

It wasn’t an invitation—it was a command. One Violet would have ignored but for the forty million pounds that were hanging in the balance.

And because she didn’t want Sophia to think she was one bit intimidated by her. It was how mean girls worked. They manipulated and caused trouble, striking mischief-making matches and standing back to watch the explosion like Lorna had done outside the office.

But there was another reason Violet walked into that nightclub on Cam’s arm. She had never danced with anyone. Not since that party. She hated the crush of bodies. The threat of strangers touching her, even by accident as they jostled on the dance floor, had always been too threatening.

But if she danced with Cam it would prove she was moving on. Taking back the control she had lost. She had never danced with him, not even at one of her family’s famous ceilidhs. He had always refrained from joining into the fun, citing the fact that he had no coordination or wasn’t a true Scot and there was no way he was ever wearing a skirt. But this would be the perfect opportunity to get him on the dance floor. A legitimate excuse to be in his arms. Where she felt safe.

But Violet hadn’t factored in the music. It wasn’t the swaying-in-your-partner’s arms sort. It was loud, an auditory assault that made conversation other than sign language virtually impossible. The nightclub dance floor was cramped with sweaty, gyrating bodies. It was exactly the sort of place she normally avoided. There wasn’t room to swing a cat, let alone a dance partner.

But Sophia and Nick seemed to be enjoying every eardrum-splitting moment. They were jigging about, weaving their way through the knot of dancers as if they did it every day of the week. They waved to Cam and Violet on their way past, shouting over the music, ‘Come and join us!’

Violet looked up at Cam, who looked like he was suffering from indigestion. She stepped up on tiptoe and cupped her hand around his ear. ‘Are you going to ask me to dance? Because, if so, let me spare you the embarrassment of being rejected.’

‘You call that dancing?’

A smile tugged at her mouth and she stepped up to his ear again. ‘You ever get the feeling you were born into the wrong century? Give me a traditional Gay Gordon dance any day.’

He drew her closer in a quick squeeze hug that made her breath hitch. ‘I feel about a hundred and fifty in here.’

‘Age or temperature?’

He gave a crooked smile and took out his handkerchief—why did classy men always have one?—and gently blotted the beads of perspiration that had gathered on her forehead. Violet couldn’t tear her eyes away from the deep steady focus of his. What was he thinking behind the screen of his gaze? His eyes dipped to her mouth, his lashes going to half-mast, giving him a sexily hooded look that made her belly quiver like someone bumping into an unset bowl of jelly. She moistened her mouth...not because it was dry but because she liked seeing him watch her do so. He moved closer, his thighs strong and muscular, so very male against her trembling legs. She felt the ridge of his arousal. It should have shocked her, would’ve shocked her, if it had been anyone else.

But it was Cam.

Who desired her even though he didn’t want to. It was a force they were both fighting...for different reasons. Violet didn’t want to waste time in a relationship going nowhere even if it was with the most desirable man she had ever met. Cam wasn’t interested in finding a life partner. He didn’t want to be tied down to family life. Understandable, given the atrocious example his parents had set. But Violet couldn’t help wondering if deep down he was less concerned about his loss of freedom and more concerned about not being the sort of husband and father he most aspired to be. He was a perfectionist. Doing a good job wasn’t enough for someone like Cam. If he put his mind and energy to something he did it brilliantly. That was why he was one of the most celebrated naval architects in the world.

‘Let’s go someplace else,’ Cam said against her ear.

Had he suggested leaving because he knew she was uncomfortable in that environment? Violet couldn’t help but be touched by his concern. ‘But what about Nick and—?’

‘They’ll survive without us.’ He took her hand and led her out of the nightclub. ‘I’ll send Nick a text to say we had to leave. He’ll think I want to whip you away somewhere private.’

Please do! Violet followed him out of the nightclub to the wet and cold street outside. Within a few minutes they were in the warm cocoon of his car. But instead of driving her back to her flat he turned in the direction of his house in Belgravia. She hadn’t been there before...although she’d walked past. Purely to satisfy her feminine interest, of course. During the drive he’d suggested a nightcap, which could have been code for something else but she took it at face value. Besides, going back to her flat, which would be empty now because both Amy and Stef had steady boyfriends and spent most weekends at their homes, was not the most exciting prospect.

Violet had to pretend to be surprised by the outside of the house when he pulled up in front of it. ‘Is this your place? Wow! It’s gorgeous. How long have you had it? It looks massive.’

‘I bought it a year or so ago.’ He led her up the black and white tiled pathway to the front door. ‘I’ve done most of the renovations myself.’

Violet knew he was good with his hands; she had the humming body to prove it. But she hadn’t realised he was a handyman of this sort of standard. The house was amazing. A showcase similar to those you would see in a home and lifestyle magazine. It was a three storey high Georgian mansion with beautiful features throughout. Crystal chandeliers tinkled above when Cam closed the door against the wintry breeze. The plush Persian carpet runner that led the way down the wide hallway threatened to swallow Violet’s feet whole. The antique furniture made her mouth water. Some girls loved fashion and jewellery but anything old and precious did it for her. There were priceless works of art on the walls in gilt-edged frames. Sculptures on marble stands, a white orchid in full bloom on another softening the overall effect.

Cam led her through to a sitting room with a fireplace with a stunning black marble surround with brass trim. Twin cream sofas, deep as a cloud, sat opposite each other with a mahogany coffee table in between. A Louis XV chair was featured in one corner next to a small cedar writing desk next to a full bookcase. It looked like the perfect room for curling up with a book...or cuddling up with the one you loved.

Stop it. You’re letting it go to your head.

Violet realised then with a little jolt that this was the first time they had been completely alone. At Drummond Brae there had always been members of her family about the place, if not in the same room. She had never truly been alone with Cam without the threat of interruption.

Violet turned from taking in all of the room to find him looking at her with an unreadable expression. The air seemed to tighten and then to crackle as if an invisible current was being transmitted through their gazes. She could feel her body responding to the magnetic presence of his. She was half a room away but it felt like a force was drawing her to him, a force she could not control even if she wanted to. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ she asked, barely recognising the breathy voice as coming from her.

‘How am I looking at you?’

‘As if you don’t want me to know what you’re thinking.’

His mouth lifted in a wry smile that tugged on something deep inside her. ‘Believe me, you don’t want to know what I’m thinking.’