Page 6 of Flirting with Forever

Jacket lifted a brow. “Packard’s out?”

“Yep. Retiring.” Lamont Packard had announced he’d be gone in six months. The board had just begun the process of interviewing candidates. Both she and Anastasia were being considered. Which is why she needed to sell her manuscript and bring in the biggest gift to the museum this year.

Jacket looked at her and smiled. He wasn’t tall, but he had the bearing of a double-O spy. Taut, chiseled, ready to act. And, of course, as an artist, that came with an ego the size of the Louvre.

“You’ll get it,” he said.

“You think?”

“You’d have my vote.”

Whoa! Who knew the room could get so small? He was about one tablespoon of nitroglycerin away from blowing the top off a Pandora’s box that had been nailed shut and dipped in steel six months ago. She touched the chain, flustered. “Okay, well, good luck with the condo—”

“Cam?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think, I mean, would it ever be possible for us to try things again?”

Boom! A million feelings exploded in her head and heart. Sorrow, anger, lust, forgiveness, fear—and hope.

Anger, her ego said firmly.

Hope, her heart replied.

“Jacket…” Her face burned. “I-I don’t know.”

“I know.” He touched her wrist. A crack of lightning shot straight to her belly. The last thing she wanted was her belly weighing in on this. Her belly was a body part of very few words.

Lust.

Lust.

Lust.

Lust.

Cam touched his waist, that hard, hard waist, and he pulled her into a kiss.

Such a bad idea. Such a good bad idea.

Reluctantly she extricated her mouth. She felt like she’d been sucking lust-flavored Pop Rocks.

“I was thinking you might want to take a short leave of absence.”

“A short leave?”

“Or a longer one.” He grinned. “Maybe come to London with me for a while.”

London. She loved London. “I couldn’t.”

“Anytime. Now. After the gala. To celebrate your new directorship. They let you take a holiday sometimes, don’t they?”

He could be very charming when he put his mind to it. Just ask the explosions in her mouth. “I, uh…”

“Cam, I—Oh God, sorry.”

It was Jeanne, and her voice snapped Cam’s ego into action. She broke away and wiped her mouth, embarrassed. “What’s up?”