“You do?” she said, almost grateful.
“I’ll just call her,” he said, going for his cell phone.
“I already tried to call her.” She inclined her head in defeat. “She’s not answering her phone.”
Julian hit the speed dial. “One second.” He waited for Soren to answer the call.
“Soren.” The valet answered immediately.
Julian thought about asking for Mrs. de Laurent but thought better of it. It was probably best to let Camille tell the girl, whoever she was, about their arrangement herself. “Is Camille close by? I need to talk to her.”
Within seconds Camille said with a gentle softness, “What’s up?”
Did Camille have any idea how sensuous her voice sounded?
Julian discarded his wandering thoughts and focused on the girl before him. “There’s someone here who’d like to speak with you.”
“Who?” Her voice was edgy and filled with conjecture.
Julian’s gaze traveled up to meet the feisty girl’s. “Your name?”
“My name?” Her eyes widened with an impatient glare. “Give me that damn phone.” She yanked Julian’s cell from his hand. “Camille?”
Oh shit. “Tasha. What are you doing with Julian?” Camille said quickly over her choking, pounding heart.
Soren and Camille exited one of the Lobby Shops at the Bellagio.
“What am I doing with Julian?” Tasha asked in a subtle, mocking tone. “The better question is...what are you doing with Julian?”
“We’ll talk about that later.” Camille used a tone she knew Tasha would recognize as a discreet warning to keep her mouth shut. “Where are you?” She and Soren entered the lobby where she saw Julian and Tasha at the registration desk across the way. “Never mind. I see you.” She disconnected the call and handed the phone to Soren.
Camille had a couple of bags in her hands and Soren toted the rest. He’d protested over her carrying any of them, but she’d insisted. Soren hadn’t handled it very well, but she hadn’t given him a choice. Now that they’d come face-to-face with Julian, Soren’s posture seemed to crumble right along with his composure.
Camille’s first stop was Julian, rather than Tasha. “Look,” She whispered against his ear. “Don’t say anything to him about me carrying the bags, okay? I insisted.”
“Chéri, you really should let him do his job.” Julian’s response was kind, but firm.
“He did do his job.” Camille’s gaze followed Julian’s until she’d wrangled it into submission. “He helped me pick out some great clothes.” She acknowledged the bags in her hands before turning her back on Julian and moving toward Tasha. “What are you doing here?”
“What’s going on, Camille? I called your work and Margo said—”
Camille shushed Tasha, cutting her off. She flashed her friend a look that she hoped was oppressive before turning to face Julian. “This is Tasha, my best friend. She and I need to talk.”
“May I take your bags?” He held out his hands. “Why don’t you go into the cafe and have a drink. I’ll join you in about half an hour and we’ll all have lunch.”
Camille gladly gave Julian her shopping bags, happy to get rid of him so she could smooth Tasha’s curiosity without giving herself away.
Julian looked her over with an inspecting glance. His lips curled into a faint smile as his gaze traveled up to meet hers. “Nice outfit. The color suits you,” he said of the red and black designer clothing.
She prayed Tasha had kept her mouth shut. Julian moved closer, his intention to kiss her cheek clear. Camille froze. Warm lips brushed against her face and sent chills roving over her body.
Julian turned to Tasha. “I look forward to getting to know Camille’s friend over lunch.” He offered a friendly smile and bowed.
Soren dipped his chin and followed Julian.
Camille’s gaze got stuck on Julian for a moment. A little distance lightened the weight on her shoulders. She drew a breath and turned to her friend. A few wrong words from Tasha and Camille’s plan would be ruined.
CHAPTER FIVE
TASHA DRAPED HER ARM around Camille’s and they walked toward the Café Bellagio. “What the heck’s going on?” she whispered. “And where on earth did you get this outfit?”
Camille drew a breath and held it. “I told you I was doing a story. Undercover.”
“And Margo told me you’re no longer with Disclosure.”
“She did, did she?” Camille shuddered inwardly. “Did she also tell you that she’s an unreasonable shrew?”
Tasha’s eyebrows shot up.
Camille cleared her throat as they approached the maître’d, signaling Tasha to keep quiet.
“Ah, Mrs. de Laurent. Will you and your companion be joining us for lunch?”
“Yes. Could we have a private table? Somewhere out of the way?”
“But of course.” He led them out to the garden area.
“Mrs. de Laurent?” Tasha whispered.
Camille shushed Tasha, and turned her attention to the maître’d, saying, “Mr. de Laurent will be joining us shortly.”
“Thank you,” the girls said in unison.
He pulled out two chairs at a table surrounded by plants and foliage in the café’s exquisite botanical gardens. While daffodils and snow drops were in full bloom behind their table, Camille recognized the scent of jasmine lingering in the air.
“Unsweetened iced tea?” The waiter confirmed her choice.
Camille nodded.
He turned to Tasha, “And what would you like? A pomegranate martini perhaps?”
She hesitated, in thought. “Yes,” she nodded, “I believe I will.” She watched him walk away and turned to Camille. “I believe I’m going to need it.”
“Why are you here?” Camille asked again. “I told you I was on a story. You could’ve easily blown my cover.”
“You’re not on a story. You were fired.”
“I wasn’t fired. I quit.”
“You say tomato. I say tomato,” she said, using the American and English versions of the pronunciations. “Did you marry that guy?”
She thought about lying, but it wasn’t a good idea. Camille was knee-deep in lies as it was. “Yes.”
“What?” The long lashes shading her cheeks flew up. “Where’d you meet him? I didn’t know you were seeing anybody, much less thinking about getting married.” Tasha studied her suspiciously. “Is that why you quit?” she said, with a flash of curiosity. “Where’s he from anyway? Somewhere in Europe, I bet.” An enlightening smile curled on her plump, red lips. “Ooh...that’s why Margo’s so mad because you up and quit.”