Read Online Dating the Rebel Tycoon by Ally Blake - Free Book Online Page A

of melting gelato and the moment was gone. And, without her striking grey eyes holding him in place, he remembered: there was something wrong with his father. And worse: after a decade and a half spent keeping his whole family at arm’s length because the bastard had given him no choice, he still gave a damn.
    He blinked, clearing the red mist from his vision and letting Rosalind fill it instead. At first glance, she seemed a ‘just what it says on the tin’ kind of person—playful, slightly awkward, with an impertinent streak a mile wide. But those eyes, those changeable, mercurial eyes, kept him wondering. He could have sworn she’d changed the subject back there, knowing it was what he needed.
    Then, in the quiet, her hand reached out to his. It took him about half a second to give in and turn her hand until their fingers intertwined.
    For the first time since that morning Cameron felt that everything was going to be all right.
    He frowned. He’d managed to figure that out on his lonesome time and time again over the years. And at the end of the day, when they parted ways, he’d once again only have himself to count on. To trust.
    He gave her hand a brief squeeze before pulling his away and leaning back to rest on the toadstool, cool, nonchalant, like nothing mattered as much as it had seemed to matter moments earlier.
    ‘Cameron—’
    ‘You done?’ he asked, gesturing to her melting gelato .
    She licked the inside of her lips as though relishing every last drop of the delicious treat. But her eyes pierced his as she asked, ‘Are you?’
    He didn’t pretend not to understand her. ‘Well and truly. I didn’t invite you out tonight for a therapy session.’
    ‘So, why did you invite me again?’ she asked, with just the perfect amount of flirtation in her voice to make his fingers spontaneously flex.
    ‘It was obvious you were the kind to appreciate the finer things in life.’
    ‘Quesadillas and gelato ?’
    ‘God, yes.’
    He stood.
    She did the same, threw her empty container into the bin, pressed her hands into her lower back, then closed her eyes tight and stretched. ‘First, I’m a geek. Now I’m obvious. You sure know how to make a girl feel special.’
    ‘Stick around,’ he said, his voice gravelly. ‘The night is young.’
    She stopped stretching and looked him in the eye. Attraction hovered between them like a soap bubble, beautiful, light and with a limited lifespan. Just the way he liked it.
    ‘I could do with walking some of that off.’ Cameron patted his flat stomach. ‘You game?’ He held out a hand.
    She stared at it. Then she wiped her hands on her jeans and, after a moment’s hesitation, put her hand in his.
    Holding hands made him feel like he was seventeen again. But, then again, the fact that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d held a woman’s hand unless it was to help her out of his car made it feel far more grown up than all that.
     
    As Rosie strolled beside Cameron down the length of South Bank, they talked movies, politics, religion and work. She made fun of him loving a sport that managed to keep a straight face whilegiving a man a job title of “silly mid-on”, while he utterly refused to admit he believed man had ever really set foot on the moon.
    But she couldn’t get her mind off the elephant in the room; Cameron and his father must have had some kind of falling out. She’d never heard about it in the press or on the grapevine. Yet he’d confided in her. She was caught between being flattered, and being concerned that what had started out as a fun date had become something more complicated so very quickly.
    It would be okay so long as she remembered who she was and perhaps, more importantly, who he was. He might have fled the nest but he was still a Kelly. He walked with purpose even if that purpose was simply to walk. He had that golden glow that came with the expectation of privilege, while she knew what it was like to struggle, to trip over her