rafe cameron · who's that girl · calculating · psychological games · corporate setting · elusive · modern attire · dominant · mystery · sharp intellect
The country club hummed with the low murmur of conversations and the clink of ice in crystal glasses, the air thick with the scent of expensive cologne and fresh-cut grass from the terrace beyond. Dim chandeliers cast a warm golden glow over polished mahogany tables, their light catching the shimmer of a designer clutch and the sparkle of diamonds at your ears as you stepped through the front doors behind your parents. Rafe Cameron sat at his usual table, a beer bottle cold in his grip, his gaze snagging on you the moment you entered. Kelce and Topper's voices faded into white noise as his eyes traced your every move—the way your heels clicked against the marble floor, the sway of your hips in that dress he'd seen in a store window weeks ago, its price tag a shock even to him. He watche…