by Dale Mayer
“I did,” he said, “but we weren’t in the woods very long, so unless he wasn’t alone …”
At that, she spun around and looked at him in horror. “Is that a possibility?”
“Is what a possibility?” he asked.
“That he came with somebody?”
“Well, it’s likely,” Blaze said, frowning at her. “Of course it is. But, if you only ever saw one man, chances are he’s working alone.”
She looked slightly mollified but not enough for her satisfaction.
“But we should check the entire house.”
“It makes sense to partner up, doesn’t it?” she asked. “While we’re busy chasing him all over the bloody countryside, the second man just sauntered right in.”
Together, with Blaze leading the way, they searched the house, beginning with her big preparation room and onto the rest of the first floor, then upstairs, looking under beds, in closets, behind doors. When they finally got back to the kitchen, he asked, “Satisfied?”
She yawned and nodded. “I feel much better.”
“Now reset the alarm,” he instructed. She didn’t argue; she just did it and then led the way back upstairs. She looked so exhausted.
He said, “You need to buy new slippers now.”
“Or maybe they will wash nicely,” she said. “I’ll try that first. These are my favorites.”
“Which is an odd choice for somebody who doesn’t like dogs.”
“It’s not that I don’t like dogs,” she corrected him. “It’s that I’ve never been around them.”
“True enough.” He watched as she closed her bedroom door firmly in his face. He chuckled and headed back to his room. “I’ll take that as a definite no.” And what did he expect? It wasn’t like they knew each other.
Something was familiar about her though. And he’d been trying to place it since he’d arrived. But, according to her, they’d never met. They hadn’t even crossed paths before, so he wasn’t sure what niggled at him. But it was there. Something in the background.
He stretched out on the bed, knowing he’d make a mess if he got under the covers. His foot was black. The prosthetic almost the same color. He got up, walked over and sat on the bathtub edge to wash his foot, removed the sock then wiped his prosthetic down. Finally clean, he headed back to the bedroom, only to see Camilla standing there in her pajamas, frowning at him.
“Did you just have a shower?”
He looked at her in surprise. “I was cleaning up. Remember? I was wandering around out there barefoot.”
Her expression cleared.
“Is it a problem if I did?” he asked curiously. He knew people had very strange rules and regulations that seemed normal to them, but he’d come across a couple that were pretty unique, and maybe guests having showers in the middle of the night was a no-no for her.
“No,” she said, “I was afraid you were getting up and starting your day.”
“It is four o’clock,” he said, “so I may not be able to sleep anymore.”
“Oh.” She took several steps toward the door and said, “I guess that makes sense.”
“Would it have mattered if I’d gotten up?” He was still trying to figure this out.
She shrugged. “No, not necessarily. I wanted an early start, but I didn’t want this early of a start.”
“You can stay in bed,” he said. “You’ve got a long day. You need your sleep.”
“Yes,” she said, “but it would be strange if I knew you were up and I was trying to sleep. I don’t know that I could sleep.”
“That’s because you’d be afraid you were hearing things. I promise that I’ll stay in my room for a few more hours. Go get some more sleep.”
She nodded and turned away, then stopped. “The injuries to your abdomen and your back, are they from the same accident that took your foot?”
“Yes.” He looked down at his hands and said, “It sidelined me out of the military.”
“What happened?”
“I was too close to the blast of an IED.” At her confused look, he said, “A bomb. I didn’t get caught in the blast, but I got caught in the debris. And it picked me up and tossed me, and I landed on some pretty ugly shit too. So quite a bit of severe muscle damage, etc. But I’m healed now.”
“But the number of scars,” she said softly, her gaze in the half-light on his abdomen.
She was focused on his massive scar there, where a chunk of muscle was missing, and possibly she could even see that he was missing a rib.
“That must have taken you months to years to heal from.”
“Which is why I missed my mother’s funeral,” he said gently. “But life happens. And I’d like to believe she saw me from above anyway.”
At that, Camilla beamed at him. “If there’s any way she could, you know she would have. I’m sure she loved you very much.”
“She did.” He grinned and added, “but then I was an only child.”
“Whereas I’m one of three,” she said.
“Did you ever get along with your mother?”
“No. Never,” she said with a half laugh. “For the longest time, my sisters didn’t get along with her either. One of them moved out earlier than the rest of us. She stayed with Grandma for a year ahead of us moving here. And we all had moved here ten years ago.”
“Oh,” he said suddenly. “Now that mystery becomes clear. Fran?”
She stared at him, her jaw dropping. “Yes, Fran, although she hates that name. She much prefers Francesca.”
“Of course, I did know her but, when you said you only moved here ten years ago, I couldn’t place why you looked so familiar.”
“Francesca and I do look a lot alike,” she said. “There’s less than two years between us.”
“So, she came here and lived with your grandmother, went to school here?”
“She did her senior year here. She needed to get away from where we used to live.”
“And where was that?”
“California,” she said.
“Why did your sister come ahead of you guys?”
“She got pregnant and had an abortion and came here to get away from it all—especially Mom,” Camilla said. “Mom was upset about the abortion, but Mom would have been more horrified if Fran had planned to keep the baby. Mom is all about keeping up appearances.”
“Sorry to hear that, for everybody,” he said slowly. “It’s not an easy decision at any time.”
“No. Anyway, here Fran could get a new start, so she came early and lived with my grandmother.”
“And yet, apparently that situation didn’t work out?”
“Fran was a little wild back then,” she said. “She couldn’t even tell us who the father was. Not that I’m judging her, mind you, but, when she got here, she wasn’t exactly up for changing her ways. So Grandma had her hands full.”
“But your grandmother had a very colorful life too, didn’t she?”
“Absolutely, but she was fairly circumspect about not causing too many scandals and loving one man at a time. Fran wasn’t so worried about those rules.”
“Ah,” Blaze said, nodding. “I remember your grandmother. She had an active social life,” he said. Of course his memories of Fran were a whole lot less polite. She’d gone through the basketball team and then headed to the football team. But, in such a small town, she soon ran out of guys.
“Did you ever date her?” Camilla asked. “That would feel a little odd.”
“No, I never dated her,” he said assuredly to put her fears to rest.
She frowned at him. “That was very definite.”
“If anything, your sister wouldn’t hold me in high regard.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I turned her down,” he admitted. “Several times, in fact.”
“No, she wouldn’t have liked that,” Camilla said with an odd smile. “Normally she doesn’t take rejection well.”
“She didn’t,” he said. “I was conside
red a catch back then. My parents were both doing well. We had property, the dog training business. My mother was very successful at showing animals, and I think Fran wanted to be part of that. And tried a couple more times before I ended up losing my temper and telling her flat-out, No way. When she asked me why,” he winced and said, “I was not very nice about it.”
“Oh, my goodness, that was you?” she said, clapping her hands. “My sister used to talk about this arrogant male she was just dying to knock off his feet. She wanted to seduce him, so she could then dump him.”
“Yeah, that sounds about right,” he said. “She used to taunt me with it all the time. But it wasn’t a hardship to avoid her lures, as she would put it.”
“No, she was all about having what she wanted. So, if she didn’t get you and if she really wanted you, then you were the one who got away. I remember her talking about you every once in a while. I remember at one point, she joked she would be there, waiting, when you came back.”
“While I was in the navy,” he said with a nod. “In the meantime, you moved here, and they subsequently left, so I got the best part of the bargain.”
She smiled. “That’s a lovely thing to say.”
“I like a lot of things about you,” he said. “Unfortunately I liked very little about your sister.”
“You’re not the only one to say that,” she said sadly. “Somewhere along the line my sister decided that appearances and wealth were the answer to her happiness. Now she has both, and I don’t think she’s happy at all.”
“No,” he said, “neither of those two things bring happiness.”
“My mother and Char, my other sister, are just that way too. Thinking money buys them love and joy, solves all their problems.”
“Oh my God,” Blaze said, “the big feud between my mother and yours?”
She nodded. “Figured it was all about Mom’s ego, hating to see Enid’s picture all over town.”
“Yes, and no. It was more than that.”
“More?”
“She wanted Dad, and Dad turned her down.”
“Oh my.” Camilla’s eyes rounded. “Like father, like son. … Like mother, like daughter.”
“Yeah, I understand what you’re saying. First, I turned down Fran. Then Dad turned down your mom. Yeah, I can see, from their narrow point of view, how they wouldn’t want me dating you.”
“Let’s make a pact right now to never put our two families together.”
“Agreed.” And, if we go the distance, good thing Camilla wants to elope. He pulled back the covers on his bed, straightened them and then folded them precisely but didn’t get in bed with Camilla still standing here.
She watched him in fascination. “Most men I know don’t make the bed.”
“You don’t spend a lot of years in the navy without learning how to keep your bunk made and clean,” he joked. “It’s a habit still.”
“Makes sense.”
He crawled in and leaned against the headboard, waiting for her to move. He wasn’t sure why she was still here. “Are you going to bed, or are you going downstairs and putting on coffee?” he asked.
She groaned. “Honestly, what I’d really like to do …”
“Yes,” he said. “What?”
She shook her head, a flush rolling up her cheeks. “No,” she said, “that would be playing with fire.”
“What’s that?”
She pointed to the other half of the bed. “I’ve been avoiding my bedroom,” she said. “I’m nervous for the first time since I moved in here.”
He grabbed the blanket, pulled the corner up so she could get in. “Come on,” he said. “Crawl in, and let’s get some sleep.”
She didn’t give him a second chance to invite her. She climbed into the bed, tucked a pillow under her head and said, “Good night.”
He laughed, turned out the light and slipped down so he was lying beside her. “Good night,” he whispered.
Chapter 12
Camilla woke up, feeling a heat she didn’t recognize. She shifted restlessly and finally opened her eyes. No wonder she was hot. She was curled up against Blaze spoon-style. It didn’t take her any time at all to remember the events of the night before.
She lay here, quietly enjoying the snuggle, yet really shouldn’t be in his arms. It would give him the wrong impression. But neither did she want to leave. There was just something so very sexy about a man who had been severely injured, picked himself up and was back being who he was all over again. It took an awful lot to knock a good man down. But it took a hell of a lot more for him to stand back up again after a bombing event.
The fact that he was the one her sister hated—and Camilla meant hated—just made her smile. She could see the attraction because Blaze was very good-looking, and of course, his parents were well-respected in the community. They had money and prestige because of his mom’s dog-show wins and his father’s dog-training business. And back then, Fran was aiming high in this town. Now, of course, she was back in California with her megawealthy lawyer, living the high life.
Camilla wondered how her sister felt about Blaze at this point. Would she just laugh it off as a childish indiscretion, a crush that had turned nasty because of wanting to go to bed with him? Surely Fran married off well enough that her husband’s money would outshadow any Blaze had or would inherit. Camilla just didn’t understand why Fran had had so many boyfriends when she’d been a teen. Was it confusing sex for love? Easy to do when young. Was it just a typical rebellious stage? If so, it was one Camilla missed. At one time, Fran said having boyfriends was easy. The trick was getting them to do what you wanted them to do. It was all about power, learning your power as a woman.
Camilla continued to lay here, quiet in Blaze’s arms, wondering about that. Was that all her sisters’ relationships really were? Kind of made sense when she specifically thought about the ones Fran had had in recent years. They were alliances to her steps up this ladder of life. That wasn’t what Camilla wanted at all.
“What are you thinking about so heavily?” Blaze murmured, his warm breath against her ear sliding down her neck. His arm tightened around her, tucking her up closer against him.
They were in a cocoon, isolated, just the two of them against the world. And she knew she had no business being here. It was like an invitation she hadn’t really intended to offer, but the fact that she’d stayed while awake said an awful lot more about what she really wanted. “I was thinking about my sister Fran and how relationships to her were all about power.”
“Power and control. She was all about being dominant,” he murmured. “She called the shots, made the boys fall in love with her so she could dump them. I always wondered what made her so cynical and never did figure it out.”
“I think it was the relationship between my parents. My mother is not a terribly nice lady,” she admitted. “And maybe that’s why my mother held such hate for your mother.”
“Sounds like your family doesn’t like mine one bit. How will they handle the fact we’re involved?”
She froze and then relaxed. “Are we involved?” she asked hesitantly.
“Well, you’re lying in my arms,” he said, “in my bed, and you haven’t gotten up and left yet. That sounds like we’re well on our way to being involved.”
Just the way he said it made her chuckle. She could feel his breath again on her cheek as he answered her chuckle with a light one of his own. “So, if we’re involved,” she said, “just for the record, I’d be involved because I care. Not because of anything to do with my family.”
“Ditto,” he said, brushing a kiss against her hairline. “And your family really doesn’t ever belong in bed with us.”
At that, her giggle turned louder. “Oh my,” she said. “I can’t say I’ve ever slept with somebody like this, waking up in his arms, and you’re basically a stranger.”
“Obviously we’re not,” he said. “No, I mean, apparently your sister was after me back then, so, therefore, we have a h
istory.”
“A tenuous history at best,” she said, grinning.
He shifted slightly, so she rolled onto her back, and he could look down at her. “Hey, I’ll take tenuous. Otherwise I’m totally okay with being practically a stranger.”
“You would be,” she said. “I’m not into one-night stands.”
“First off, it’s morning,” he said, pointing to the early dawn outside the window. “Second off, nobody said anything about a one-night stand. I’m probably good for at least a couple. And, if you want to talk longer than that, I’m up for it too.”
As he said it, his hips nudging hers, she realized he was up for a whole lot more than that. She stroked her hand down his back, gently touching the indents and the scar tissue. “Are you serious? You don’t know me very well, and, since you have met me, it’s just been nothing but chaos and nastiness.”
“And you’ve held up like a charm,” he said. “I admit it’ll be a long time before I forget the image of you racing across the driveway and the street into the forest in those puppy slippers and a bathrobe with the fireplace poker in your hand.”
She looked up at him, and her heart melted a little at the seriousness in his gaze. “Last night you were all about tearing off a strip of my hide for that.”
“And, if you did it again, I’ll tear another strip off you too,” he admitted. “But there was something very special about seeing you going after your intruder. Foolishly, of course. But so very valiant. Protecting what was your own.”
“The thing is,” she said, “I wasn’t trying to protect the house or any of the valuables in the house. I was really worried about somebody damaging all the work we had done yesterday. I need that stuff today.”
He nodded, gently dropped a kiss on her nose. “Speaking of which,” he said, “when were you planning on getting up, and when do you have to leave to go deal with that?”
“I’m meeting Blyth at eight at the center.” She frowned suddenly, worried what time it was.
He shook his head and said, “It’s just six now.”
She sighed with relief. “Oh, good. I hate rushed mornings.”
