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'This is terrible, I cannot apologise enough,' the man gushed obsequiously. 'Please, accept dinner on the house as recompense.'

'That's really not necessary,' Ginger stated.

Cameron nodded his agreement. 'No, it's fine. We're both OK.'

'But I insist! It's the very least the hotel can do.'

So much for their combined protests, Ginger thought with a smile as she was shown to a table in the cosy dining room half an hour later, having showered and changed and restored herself to some semblance of normality. Except that she could still feel the touch of Cameron's hands on her when he had helped her from the lift.

'Your companion will be here directly,' the waiter informed her.

Ginger frowned. 'My what?' Her gaze strayed towards the entrance and she saw that Cameron was being led across to her. 'Excuse me, he's not... I mean, we're not...' Oh, hell!

Dressed in smart dark grey trousers and a matching shirt, the outfit seemed to heighten his dangerous edge and highlight the colour of his eyes and hair. He looked amazing, she admitted, noting too that he hadn't shaved, still having the rakish, piratical air she found so compelling.

'I'm sorry about this.' He smiled as he sat down.

'Don't worry. It seems easier to go with the flow under the circumstances.'

Ginger couldn't help but be affected by the electricity that simmered between them as they studied their menus and placed their orders.

'I'll stick with mineral water, thank you,' she decided, when wine was offered. She definitely needed to keep a clear head around this man.

'Me, too.'

She glanced up, fearing she'd spoken the words out loud. 'Sorry?'

'The mineral water,' Cameron explained.

'Oh!' She sent him a relieved smile. 'Of course.'

Ginger was thankful when their food came and the need to make small talk was removed for a while. The growing tension was undeniable and they had just about exhausted safe topics of conversation, such as the weather. Her meal was delicious, and she realised how hungry she was, having had nothing but the apple on the train since her rushed breakfast early that morning. Aware of Cameron watching her, she glanced across the table at him.

'What?'

He shook his head and smiled. 'I just find it wonderfully refreshing to meet a woman who enjoys her food. Far too many people are faddy about what they eat, or pander to so-called fashion in a vain attempt to achieve a body shape that's just not natural or necessary.'

'I couldn't agree more.' Ginger stared at him in amazement. To follow his own expression, she found it wonderfully refreshing to meet someone who shared her outlook on eating and health. Given her profession, and the sad stories she heard every working day, she knew how rare his attitude was and found him even more intriguing. 'So you're not one of society's many members who value thinness at all cost?'

'Hell, no! Thinness doesn't necessarily equal health or wellness. And personally I'm not attracted to skinny women.'

His voice had dropped an octave, and something about that throaty tone, along with the blatant appreciation in his eyes, made her pulse start to race and her nerves tingle with excitement. Again she remembered how he had looked at her on the train, and that made heat curl through her. She swallowed, keen to move the conversation on to less dangerous territory.

'You're in London on business?' Her change of subject caused an amused smile to curve his divine mouth and brought a reappearance of his dimple.

'Shh.' Glancing covertly around the sparsely occupied dining room, he leaned closer to her, his whisper confidential. 'Top-secret hit-man business.'

Ginger couldn't hold back the laugh that bubbled from within her, but she struggled to control her expression and whispered back. 'You could tell me, but then you'd have to kill me?'

'Exactly.' Grey eyes gleamed with appreciation and amused delight. He leaned back and took a sip of his water. 'Much as I hate to destroy the illusion, my presence here is far less exotic. I have a meeting in the morning and I'm in court in the afternoon.'

'Right.' So he was some kind of lawyer, was he? She could imagine him either bewitching or intimidating a jury or defendant. Foolishly disappointed their game had ended, Ginger returned her attention to her meal.

'What about you, Ginger? What brings you to London?'

'I have a presentation at two.'

She focused on her meal, reluctant to give too much away, knowing she could not divulge any details of the real reason for her trip or speak of her determination to succeed in winning the Ackerman funding. It was easier to maintain the pretence, to not tell Cameron what she really did or who she really was.

He pushed his empty plate aside and leaned his forearms on the table. 'Then home to Scotland?'

'Yes, and a backlog of work to catch up on.' Her gaze locked with his, and she wondered how much she dared pry. 'You're obviously a Scot, given the name, but you don't have an obvious accent.'

'My father was Scottish. He was in the diplomatic service so we moved around a lot for his job.'

She heard a trace of aloneness and dissatisfaction underlying his tone. 'That must have been unsettling.'

'It was, but I got lucky. My parents sent me back to Scotland to school at the age of eight, and I spent the ten happiest years of my life living with my aunt outside Strathlochan. After that I lived and worked in London for many years until recently. I—' He broke off, a look of surprise on his face, as if he didn't usually talk like this to anyone. 'Aunt Kaye died three months ago.'

She 'ached for him and the pain of loss he couldn't hide. 'I'm sorry. She was very special to you.'

Cameron puffed out his cheeks and let out a shaky breath. 'Yes, she was. Thank you. Anyway, I have some loose ends to tie up down here.' He smiled, clearly making an effort to lighten the atmosphere.

They both had mango sorbet for dessert but refused coffee, discussing books and music and politics. Ginger was shocked how quickly the time passed and how comfortable she felt with him, despite the ever-present tingle of sexual chemistry that zinged between them.

'Well...' Realising she couldn't spin the time out any longer, she slid back her chair and rose to her feet. 'Thank you for the company. I think I'll turn in. I have a busy day tomorrow.'

'Yeah, me, too.'

It wasn't what she had intended, but she found herself walking beside him as they left the restaurant. She'd never been so aware of anyone in her life. An inexplicable tension continued to build inside her, the electricity that had charged between them from the first moment now seeming more intense than ever.

'Stairs?' She nearly jumped out of her skin when Cameron lightly touched her arm.

Glancing across the foyer, she saw that only one of the two lifts was in operation, the one they had been stuck in earlier, now carefully cordoned off. 'Definitely. All four flights of them.'

When they reached their floor, he held the door open for her, and she headed down the corridor, painfully aware he was following.

'You don't have to see me to the door,' she murmured.

'I thought we'd already decided I wasn't a gentleman.' His amused smile held a touch of wickedness. 'My room is this way, too. Four twenty-seven.'

Ginger flushed, feeling foolish. 'Of course. Sorry. Four twenty-eight.'

Her breath felt ridiculously shallow, which had nothing to do with having used the stairs. She couldn't explain how she was feeling. They hesitated outside their doors, entry cards in hand. She knew she should just say good night and turn away, but there was something so mesmerising about him, and something weird was going on between them. Everything about him—his mouth, his eyes, his humour, his air of danger—captivated her.

Later, she could never have said who moved first. One second there was a safe gap of three feet between them, the next she was in his arms, her own wrapped around his neck, exchanging the most mind-blowing, nerve-tingling, exhilarating kiss of her entire life.

Ginger
was on fire.

The mouth she had fantasised over since the moment Cameron had boarded the train tasted infinitely better than she could ever have imagined. Hot, male, delicious. His kiss was drugging, consuming, wildly erotic. Ginger met and matched his urgent passion, her tongue as avid in its exploration and as inquisitive as his own. She was drowning in him, lost in his heat, in the blaze of desire that raged between them. The fingers of one hand sank into the silken thickness of his hair, the other clutching at his shoulders as he drew her closer, managing to open his door and manoeuvre them both into the privacy of his room. As the door closed he leaned back against it, his hands cupping the swell of her rear and drawing her hips to his, making her gloriously aware of his arousal.

'Are you married?' she gasped, when she could force herself to drag her mouth from his.

'Hell, no.'

She whimpered as his lips worked their way along her neck, the rasp of his stubble on her skin an exciting caress. 'Living with anyone?'

'No.'

'Otherwise attached?'

'No.' Cameron's breath was as ragged as her own. 'You?'

'None of the above.'

'Thank God.'

Ginger wanted to rip his clothes off there and then. She had never experienced such an elemental need, such a desperate desire. He widened his stance and her hips settled more snugly against his. They fitted together perfectly. But it wasn't enough. She yearned for more. A terrible ache settled deep inside her, craving fulfilment, and she urgently rubbed herself against him, seeking relief. He groaned, his mouth on her throat, his teeth delivering erotic bites on her sensitive skin, his warm, moist tongue salving the delicious sting, tasting her, making her shiver with excitement.

'Are you on the Pill?'

'No.' The reality sank in. He raised his head and, eyes wide, she stared at him, unable to believe her brazenness. 'Have you got anything?'

Cameron looked tortured. 'No. I don't carry a supply around with me in case of moments like this, you know.'

Part of her was very relieved to hear it, the rest of her wanted to weep with frustration. She supposed they could ask the night porter at the front desk, or find a chemist that was open late, but that sounded too tacky, too clinical, cheapening what until then had been spontaneous, special, right. Yet the thought of walking away, of not being with him, brought a crushing wave of regret and disappointment.

Clenching her hands in the fabric of his shirt, she looked into passion-darkened grey eyes. 'What are we going to do?'

'Well...' He watched her, his smile turning naughty, his voice husky with need. 'There are other things we could do to improvise.'

Temptation curled through her at his suggestion, her imagination running riot, her pulse racing, her breath shallow as she wrestled with her decision.

Cameron was sure he would drown in Ginger's luminous, turquoise-blue gaze. She was amazing. Her sleeveless, knee-length blue dress, while not deliberately revealing, accentuated every delectable feminine contour of her body. He'd been anticipating a flowery perfume, maybe, even a spicy one, but the fruity scent of her hair and skin nearly drove him mad. He licked his lips, savouring the tang of her that lingered in his mouth. She tasted good enough to eat. Warm summer berries— ripe, juicy, succulent. His throat tightened, his stomach tightened...other parts of him tightened.

Her skin, flushed now with desire, was as peachy soft to the touch as he had imagined it would be, her hair like finest silk against his fingers. And kissing her was sensational. He closed his eyes, reliving the moment he had set his mouth to hers as he had longed to do, finding her honey-sweet, then gliding his lips down her throat, feeling her pulse quicken under his touch. His eyelashes lifting, he watched the emotions chasing each other across her incredible eyes, wondering if he'd shocked her or upset her by his suggestion. Desperate for this time with Ginger not to end, he wished he
was
the type to carry condoms around. But moments like this hadn't happened to him in a very long while—not since before his doomed marriage to Lisa—and he certainly hadn't expected any kind of liaison on this trip.

Now, though, he wanted Ginger more than he had ever wanted anyone in his life. Breathless, he waited for her answer.

Ginger was shocked at her own behaviour. She had never known this terrible desperation for someone, had never acted this recklessly in her life. If Cameron hadn't thought to ask if she was on the Pill, it might already have been too late, they would have carried on where that humdinger of a kiss had led them. Rooted to the spot for what seemed an age, a gamut of emotions churned inside her.

Was it too appallingly forward to step back into his arms and take what he was offering? She couldn't
be
much more forward, given the way she'd virtually thrown herself at the man! They knew nothing about each other. She had to be crazy to even consider doing anything like this, but she couldn't bring herself to leave him, to not experience something that felt so right.

Nerves plagued her now they had time to stop and think. Smiling, Cameron trailed the fingers of one hand down her face, leaving a tingle of fire in his wake.

'We don't have to,' he whispered. 'It's not compulsory. If you've changed your mind.'

She loved him for that, for his sensitivity and understanding. But the lightest touch of his fingers had re-ignited the hunger and confirmed how much she desired him. 'I haven't. It's not that, it's just...'

'Scary?' he finished for her when she paused, in tune with her feelings.

'Yes. You probably won't believe me but I don't make a habit of this sort of thing.' She felt compelled to explain, shivering as his fingers moved on, gliding along her neck.

'You think I do?'

'I don't know.'

'I can assure you I don't.' He brushed the pad of his thumb across her kiss-swollen lips. 'And I do believe you.'

She trembled when his fingertips skimmed the line of her collar bones above the neckline of her dress. 'Cam.' His name escaped on a sigh and she was unable to prevent herself automatically reaching for the buttons of his shirt, slipping them undone, one by one.