Читать книгу Case of Desire - Jacquelin Thomas - Страница 8

Dr. Thomas Bradshaw and his new wife, Lia, mingled with their guests during the reception held in their honor. The couple had eloped, surprising everyone, including Camille. Lia radiated happiness as her husband embraced her lovingly.

Camille moved around the room, pausing to chat with friends and coworkers.

She walked over to where Lucien and his fiancée Jaclyn stood. “How come you two aren’t out there dancing?”

“Every time we head out there, Lucien gets sidetracked by one of the board members,” Jaclyn stated.

Lucien embraced her. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. When the next song plays, I’m all yours.”

“What about you, Camille?” Jaclyn asked. “Why aren’t you out there dancing?”

“My imaginary date is shy,” she responded with a laugh.

They were soon joined by Tamara St. John and her fiancé, Victor Aguilar; both were interns at Hopewell General. Camille talked with them for a moment before moving on.

She caught sight of Maxwell standing with Ray a few feet away. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him in the black suit that looked as if it had been designed just for him. It was obvious why he had so many women fawning over him. Camille couldn’t deny that Maxwell was a very handsome man.

Her eyes traveled across the room to where Isabelle stood with a couple of her friends. Camille noted that she had been watching Maxwell along with half of the other women at the reception.

“Camille, why are you over here in this corner?” Jerome asked, approaching her. “Wallflower definitely does not look good on you.”

His words cut into her thoughts of Maxwell.

She laughed. “Jerome, I’m not trying to be a wallflower.”

He set his drink on a nearby table and grabbed her by the hand. “C’mon, let’s dance then.”

“What about your date?” Camille inquired. “You know that I don’t do drama.”

“She’ll be all right. I told Julie that you were like a little sister to me. Besides, she’s not the jealous type.”

Camille loved to dance, so as soon as she heard the music, her body began to sway.

She and Jerome danced to two songs before his date joined them. Camille stayed on the floor for one more song, and then said, “Okay, I need to get something to drink.”

“You’re leaving?” Jerome asked. “I was about to drop it like it’s hot.”

She laughed. “I’ll leave that to you and Julie.”

Camille made her way over to the bar.

Someone walked up behind her.

“Hello, Camille.”

She turned around. “Maxwell, it’s nice to see you,” she managed casually. Camille could hear her heart pounding loudly over the music. His nearness had an arousing effect on her. “I hope you’re having a good time.”

“I am,” he responded in a deep baritone voice.

A new and unexpected warmth surged through her as he looked at her. The richness of his tone made Camille weak at the knees. She supported her weight by placing a hand on the edge of the bar.

She could feel Maxwell’s eyes still observing her. His gaze was intense and penetrating, almost as if he could see right through her. Camille chewed nervously on her bottom lip.

Jerome walked by and uttered, “Stop biting your lip.”

Embarrassed, Camille gave him a playful jab in the ribs. She prayed that Maxwell hadn’t heard him.

Her prayer went unanswered when Maxwell smiled at her, and then asked, “Do I make you nervous, Camille?”

“No,” she responded quickly. “Why would you think that?”

Camille couldn’t stand his arrogance. Did he actually believe that her actions were because of him?

“Most people bite their lips when anxious or nervous.”

Camille gestured to the dance floor. “Why aren’t you out there?” She wanted to take the attention off of herself.

“That’s one of the reasons I walked over here,” Maxwell responded. “I came over to ask you to dance with me.”

She caught sight of Isabelle standing a few yards away and was about to refuse, but he said, “I saw you out there with your coworker. You have some really nice moves. I thought maybe you could teach me a few.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “Okay, now you’re just teasing me.”

He gave her a beautiful smile. “I’m serious. Come, let’s have some fun.”

Why not? “Sure.”

They slowly made their way to the middle of the dance floor.

She wasn’t surprised to find that Maxwell was a wonderful dancer. Camille smiled as she showed off her best moves, wanting to prove that he wasn’t the only one with skills.

“You enjoy dancing, don’t you?”

Smiling, she nodded. “You look like you love it as well.”

“I’m going to tell you a secret.” He leaned forward and whispered in her ear. His words made her grin.

Later when they walked off the dance floor, Camille couldn’t resist asking, “Were you serious about wanting to dance professionally?”

Maxwell nodded. “It used to be a dream of mine, but my parents insisted that I find a real profession. They didn’t believe that dancing would pay the bills.”

“Is that why you became a lawyer?”

He nodded. “My parents and grandfather are all lawyers, so I felt that I should carry on the family tradition.”

“Being a lawyer has served you well, wouldn’t you say?” Camille questioned. Maxwell was one of the top litigation attorneys in the country. He was licensed to practice in California, New York, D.C., Virginia and Georgia.

He smiled. “I can’t complain.”

She spotted Isabelle walking toward them and said, “Thanks for the dance, Maxwell.”

He smiled at her. “You’re quite welcome, Camille.”

“Mr. Wade,” Isabelle said, joining them. “Let’s dance. Camille, you don’t mind if I take him off your hands, do you?”

He shot a glance in Camille’s direction.

“Have fun,” she mouthed before weaving through the sea of people in attendance.

Camille watched as Maxwell allowed Isabelle to take him by the hand, leading him to the dance floor. She had mixed emotions as she watched the two of them dancing.

Even in a crowd, Maxwell’s presence was compelling. Camille stood there eyeing the numerous women vying for his attention.

“Isabelle’s really trying to latch on to him,” a woman standing beside her commented in a low voice.

Camille did not respond. She liked Isabelle, although she felt that Isabelle was all wrong for a man like Maxwell Wade. Not that she knew what type of woman was perfect for the millionaire attorney. Besides, he had been linked to a flamboyant supermodel for years, a woman who was rumored to be self-centered, hard to work with, and ill-tempered. She had earned a reputation for gaining attention through public tantrums, including an attack on her assistant, during her on-and-off relationship with Maxwell.

Camille allowed her eyes to linger on Maxwell, appreciating the strong lines of his well-formed cheek and jaw. But it was those beautiful brown eyes of his that arrested her—intelligent eyes that seemed to peer through to her very soul. She surveyed Maxwell with an artist’s sensitivity, taking in his naturally arched brows, the faint lines above his forehead and those sexy lips of his.

“What do you think about Isabelle and Maxwell Wade, Camille?”

She gave a slight shrug. “I think that Isabelle’s a big girl and she can take care of herself,” Camille responded. “Hey, I’m going to get something to drink. Want to join me?”

“My boyfriend just went to get drinks for us,” the woman replied. “Thanks though.”

Camille nodded, and then said, “I’ll talk to you later.” She was grateful for a moment alone. She struggled with figuring out what was drawing her to Maxwell. There was some type of invisible thread drawing them together.

I don’t know this man, she kept telling herself over and over. I’m not sure I even like him, so why should I care who he dates?

Camille shook off her thoughts.

She ordered and paid the bartender for a soda.

Just as she turned to leave, Camille bumped into the chief of staff’s wife. “Mrs. Dudley, I’m sorry. I didn’t know that you were standing behind me.”

“You’re fine, dear.” She placed a hand to her forehead. “I have such a terrible headache and this music isn’t helping. I can barely see straight, so I’m going home.”

She was genuinely concerned. “I’m sorry to hear that, Mrs. Dudley. Would you like for me to call you a taxi or something?”

“Germaine’s already taken care of it, dear.”

Dr. Dudley was in heavy conversation with another doctor, so Camille made sure that the woman made it safely to the waiting taxi.

Just before she reached the doors of the ballroom where the reception was being held, Dr. Dudley stepped into her path. “D-did my w-wife leave?” he asked. The dazed look in his eyes and the slur in his voice indicated that he had had plenty to drink.

“Yes,” Camille responded. “I walked her out to the cab myself.”

He reached over and grabbed her hand. “Thank you for being so kind to my wife.” Dr. Dudley was close enough for Camille to smell the alcohol on his breath—much too close as far as she was concerned.

Camille took a step backward and tried to remove her hand from Dudley’s viselike grip.

He stared at her a moment before saying, “I really love those green eyes of yours. It gives you an exotic look.”

She didn’t like the way he was caressing her with his eyes.

“Dr. Dudley,” Camille began. “Why don’t we go inside?”

“I’m actually en-enjoying myself out here,” he said in response. “There are too many people inside the party. I’ve wanted to just sit down and talk to you for a while, Camille. I like getting to know my employees.”

“I believe we know each other as well as we need to,” she stated firmly. “Dr. Dudley, we don’t want people walking out here and making assumptions. The hospital is under enough scrutiny, don’t you think?”

Camille tried a second time unsuccessfully to pull her hand away, but Dudley only held on tighter. A wave of apprehension washed over her. “Please let my hand go, Doctor.”

He continued to leer at her. “Hey, I’m just trying to get to know you—with your fine self.”

Camille had heard rumors that Dudley had an eye for the ladies, and on more than one occasion she had caught him staring at her, but she never thought he would be so blatant with it. Dr. Dudley was not only married, but a father of three and well-respected in the medical field.

“Why don’t we go get you some coffee?” Camille suggested. “You have been drinking all night and the alcohol’s making you do things I’m sure you will regret.”

He pulled her into his arms and tried to kiss her.

“No!”

Cringing, Camille struggled violently in his arms, and was relieved when he abruptly let her go. She opened her eyes and met Maxwell’s hard gaze.

Mortified, she looked away and straightened her dress.

“Dudley, I think Camille’s right. You’ve had enough to drink,” Maxwell stated coldly.

“I’m …I’m f-fine,” Germaine slurred. “Now …if you would excuse us, I’m try …t-trying to have a conversation with Camille.”

“I’m perfectly aware of what you are trying to do,” he countered. “It’s time for you to go home, so I’m going to call you a taxi.” Maxwell pulled out his cell phone. He gestured to a passing waiter and said, “Could you please bring this man a cup of black coffee?”

He glanced back at Camille. “Are you okay?”

“I just need to get out of here,” she murmured.

Maxwell nodded in understanding. He could tell that she was really shaken by what had just transpired. “I’ll see you to your car once I get Dudley settled.”

Camille sat down in one of the chairs across from where he and Dudley were.

She couldn’t hear what Maxwell was saying to Dudley, but from the expression on his face, the conversation was an intense one.

Maxwell stayed with Dudley until the taxi arrived. Just as she had done with Dudley’s wife, he escorted the chief of staff outside.

“C’mon, I’ll see you to your car,” Maxwell said when he returned.

“I didn’t drive. I came with one of the nurses. I’ll just call a taxi.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he told her. “I’ll drive you home.”

“Maxwell, I appreciate your help with Dr. Dudley, but you don’t have to go out of your way to drive me to my place.”

“I don’t mind,” Maxwell responded. “After the night you’ve had, I want to make sure that you get home safe.”

It wasn’t until Camille was inside her townhome that she allowed her tears to flow. She always enjoyed entering her home, where the pride of ownership was evident. Camille had paid great attention to detail in the remodeled kitchen, which included granite countertops and upgraded appliances. The hardwood floors throughout both stories gleamed to perfection.

However, tonight her efforts were wasted on herself. She rushed up the stairs and into her bedroom, where she quickly removed her clothes and stepped into the shower.

She felt dirty all over.

She scrubbed her hands until they were sore. Camille wanted to erase the memory of Dr. Dudley’s touch.

Afterward, Camille had hoped that watching television would help to ease her mind, but it didn’t. She couldn’t stop thinking about what happened.

I’m so glad Maxwell was there. I don’t know what would’ve happened if he had not intervened when he did.

A wave of anger coursed through her veins and she silently debated whether or not to have a conversation with the chief of staff on Monday morning.

Camille picked up a pillow and angrily tossed it across the room.

When did I morph into a knight in shining armor? Maxwell wondered as he drove back to his hotel.

Normally, he would’ve never let such a beautiful woman walk away without so much as a kiss. Most of his goodbyes ended at dawn. Maxwell hadn’t missed the pain and fear that shined bright in Camille’s eyes. She looked terrified of what she was facing and his heart felt for her.

Camille was in such a fragile state of mind, Matthew thought it better just to make sure she got home safe. He would never do what Dr. Dudley had tried to do.

A wave of anger coursed through Maxwell. He was furious with Dudley and planned to have a long conversation with him. The chief of staff was not only placing his career in jeopardy, but the reputation of the hospital as well. If he didn’t keep his hands or comments to himself, Hopewell General would find itself in the midst of a huge sexual harassment lawsuit. The hospital had enough legal problems already.

Fifteen minutes later, Maxwell strolled into the beautifully appointed lobby of Morrison House, a hotel surrounded by the historic neighborhood of Old Town Alexandria. He loved the classic American redbrick building that housed the four-star hotel where he would be staying during his time in Virginia.

Maxwell stifled a yawn. He was more than ready to dive into the four-poster bed in his suite. He unlocked and opened the door to a room decorated with a soothing color scheme of golds, creams and cranberry reds with accents of forest green.

He strolled to the adjoining parlor and laid his keys to the rental car on the writing desk. Maxwell’s thoughts traveled back to Camille and how stunning she had looked in her black dress.

His cell phone rang, cutting into his thoughts.

“Hello, Kendra.” Maxwell hid his irritation. Although they were no longer seeing each other, she still had a way of getting under his skin and not in a good way. He had finally had the good sense to end things for good.

“Hey, baby. How are you?”

“I’m fine,” Maxwell responded dryly. “Why aren’t you out somewhere with your posse?” he asked, referring to the camera crew that followed her around.

Kendra released an audible sigh. “Maxwell, I know how much you hate my doing this reality show, but, baby, I have to think about my career. I am worth so much more now because of it.”

“It’s intrusive.”

“I have nothing to hide,” Kendra stated. “I’m a celebrity supermodel. People want to know all about my life. At least I make money by inviting my fans into my world. Hey, the network is considering doing another reality show to help me find Mr. Right. I told them that I’ve already found the perfect man for me.”

“Kendra …” Maxwell began.

She cut him off by saying, “Baby, I love you and I know that you love me, too.”

“Now you’re telling me what I feel?”

“Are you saying that you don’t have feelings for me?” she inquired.

“Kendra, I care about you, but you know what we had is over. We’ve talked about this more than once.” He was growing tired of having the same discussion over and over.

“Maxwell, I don’t believe we’re over,” Kendra argued. “Don’t you remember how good we were together?”

He shook his head and sighed in resignation. Once Kendra made her mind up, there was no changing it.

“When are you coming home?”

“Not for another week or two.”

“I miss you, Maxwell.”

“I’m surprised you have time to miss me or anyone else. You’ve been pretty busy with the show and your public appearances.”

“We could be filmed while on a romantic date,” Kendra suggested.

“No,” Malcolm stated. “I told you from the beginning that I wanted nothing to do with that show of yours, Kendra, and I meant it.”

“People want to see me with the man I love.”

“I can’t help you.”

“You mean you won’t help me,” she countered.

“Kendra, I don’t want to argue with you. I’m tired and I have a breakfast meeting in the morning. I’ll talk to you later.”

She slammed the phone down in his ear.

Her actions no longer fazed Maxwell. He and Kendra had been in and out of a relationship for years and he was tired of the cycle. It was time for something new, as far as he was concerned. There were scores of beautiful women in the world—too many to settle for Kendra’s drama.

An image of Camille formed in his mind.

Maxwell was concerned about her, but he hadn’t thought to ask Camille for her home or cell number. He would just have to wait until Monday to see how she was doing.

Maxwell wondered how Camille would interact with Dr. Dudley after what happened earlier in the evening. From a legal standpoint, Hopewell didn’t need any hint of a sexual harassment lawsuit. However, harassment, in any form, was never to be tolerated.

The decision to file a complaint was solely Camille’s, but he hoped to avoid another scandal while dealing with the Matthews case. Ray had already consulted him on another pending lawsuit in which the hospital admitted fault in giving a patient the wrong medication. Yes, the last thing Hopewell needed was a sexual harassment lawsuit.

However, he vowed to support Camille in whatever she decided.