Naked? Her body froze. Goose bumps swamped her skin as memories of the previous night zapped her like an electric shock. Champagne. Cameron. Bliss. No way would Father Christmas have been able to leave presents with all the unexpected action going on in her bedroom. The shock quickly made way for a smile as she rolled over. But fantasies of watching Cameron sleep or waking him with a lazy, indulgent exploration of his talented body were short-lived. Where his head had molded her spare pillow only hours earlier, Fred now slept, purring contentedly. What did you expect? Breakfast in bed? She scolded her whimsical romantic heart as she pulled the kitten’s warm, furry body into her arms. His ginger coat felt smooth against her bare chest but did nothing to soothe the heavy, almost sad beat that strummed deep within. How could she have ever reasoned that sleeping with Cameron McCormac was a good idea? Uh, do you want me to write a list? The previously repressed nymphomaniac side of her conscience spat sarcastically.
