Page 2 of Flirt
After smoothing down the collar on his polo, he tucked his hands into the pockets of his slacks and strolled forward to meet Natalie at the wide steps leading up to the front doors of the obscenely large mansion. “So, who lives here anyway?”
The corners of her lips twitched, but she didn’t look at him. “Some author.”
Cameron could feel the skepticism all over his face. “Bullshit. Authors don’t make this kind of money.”
“Some do.”
Okay, fine. He conceded that a very select few were successful enough to afford a multi-million-dollar property in Dallas’ most affluent neighborhood. Still… “Nat, just tell me.”
“Asher Dare.”
His head snapped up, and he almost tripped over the top step. “Shut the fuck up.”
Suddenly, the hour didn’t seem too early. The house didn’t look so ostentatious. Instead, the sun gleamed just a little brighter, and the imperfect quiet wrapped around him like a living thing.
“You’re serious?”
Natalie hitched her black, designer bag higher on her shoulder as she swept across the landing toward the open double doors. “As I live and breathe.”
If he were to ask anyone who knew him, they’d likely describe Cameron’s life as quiet and unassuming, skating the edge of boring. He rarely went out to clubs. Never attended lavish parties. He didn’t engage in casual hookups, or even the not-so-casual type for that matter. His idea of a fun evening included a single glass of red wine and a good book.
Some people swooned over young actors with pretty eyes. Others lusted for brooding rock stars with voices like angels and too much eyeliner. Then there were people like Cameron who developed crushes on fictional characters.In fact, he’d been having a pretty intense love affair with Detective Marshall Kane for the past twelve years. It didn’t matter that the guy was straight—or imaginary, conjured right from Asher Dare’s imagination.
It made him wonder if the creator was anything like his creation.
“You’re a riot.” He leveled an accusing glare at his sister. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“And miss seeing the look on your face?”
Again, he checked his collar. His fingers slid down the two buttons just below the hollow at the base of his throat, ensuring they remained closed. Pulling his other hand from the pocket of his pants, he smoothed out the wrinkles along the thigh of the black material.
“Relax,” Natalie told him with a roll of her eyes. “I doubt he’s even here.”
“I’m relaxed.” He stroked the edge of his collar again. “Let’s go.”
A woman in a smart pantsuit greeted them as they crossed the threshold into…Narnia. Seriously, it was so far removed from anything Cameron had ever seen, it was as if he’d stepped into another dimension. Pantsuit lady—with her tight bun, small brown eyes, and thin smile—passed a crimson folder to Natalie, and they talked for a few minutes, but their conversation registered as little more than background noise.
Directly above him, centered between two curving staircases, a crystal chandelier gleamed and sparkled, refracting prisms across the ceiling. Below it sat an ornately carved desk with exquisite detail etched into the mahogany. Casually, he flipped over the blue tag attached to the knob of one of the drawers and nearly choked at the number written there.
Wandering behind the desk, he stopped in front of the wall stretched between the two staircases. The top section had been carved out to create a deep shelf, and a single, recessed light shined down on the beautifully crafted vases that lined the space. The rich browns complimented the dark amber, and the small jewels inlaid around the necks of the vases twinkled when the light hit them just right.
He didn’t bother checking the tags.
The clack of high heels against the black marble tiles had him turning, but he pulled up short when Natalie bounced right into his personal space.
“Okay, so here’s a map.” She shoved a sheet of paper into his hand. “Only a few of the rooms are locked.” She tapped a fingernail against the blocks of red on the floor plan. “Otherwise, we’re good to go, and this place is huge.” Her entire face lit up like a tree on Christmas morning. “Let’s get started.”
“Huge” turned out to be a vast and gross understatement. The mansion on the hill didn’t have anything as mundane as bedrooms. Instead, it boastedsevensuites, each one with its own living space, bedroom, kitchenette, and private bathroom complete with Jacuzzi tub. Six additional bathrooms were split between the two levels, as well as three more half-baths. Why anyone needed that many toilets outside of a stadium, Cameron had no idea.
A restaurant-quality kitchen that shined as though it had never been used. Three formal living rooms. A den with a chic leather sofa and matching armchairs that really didn’t look too comfortable. An arcade, which also included a pool table, an air hockey table, and not one, but two foosball tables. An honest-to-god, two-lane bowling alley. A theater room that was bigger than actual theaters he’d visited. A home gym—not a space with a punching bag, a treadmill, and some free weights, but a room the size of a basketball court with so much professional equipment Cameron wondered if he needed a membership just to walk through it.
It wasn’t a house. It was a fucking hotel with every amenity imaginable, and one where he probably couldn’t afford a single night’s stay.
The off-limit places turned out to be a library, a large office, and the master suite, all on the upper level. Not being able to enter the library hadn’t stopped Cameron from pressing as close to the glass squares on the French doors as possible to see inside, though. The room was beautiful, a proper library straight from a fairytale withwall-to-wall bookshelves that stretched all the way to the ceiling.
“Would you like to go in?”
Cameron squeaked—actually fucking squeaked like a cartoon mouse—and spun around so quickly he lost his footing and stumbled backwards. The doors rattled in their frame, and he winced when one of the knobs dug into his hip. Heart pounding, throat tight, he lifted his head, his gaze locking with amber eyes so deep he felt as though the floor shifted beneath him.
