by Mia Dymond
Max had mere seconds to realize what Cameron was doing before her lips touched his in a warm massage. His cock jumped and protested its confinement under his buttoned jeans. With her breasts positioned barely two inches from his mouth, his imagination ran wild. His tongue begged to touch her, to circle her nipple and suckle. Yeah, he was in major pain. She had no idea how much pain he experienced around her. Yet, he remained motionless, exercised amazing self-control, and relished her pillow-soft lips. With one last peck, she ended the kiss and the sound of a soft tinkling noise distracted him once again. Were his ears ringing?
“That’s not where I’m hurt,” he croaked as she stepped back away from him.
She smirked. “I know. I figured that would take away all your pain.”
Desperate to regain control, he ended the discussion about pain. “Call Rachel, Sex Pistol.” He watched her smirk quiver as he eased back into his shirt. “She’s worried.”
“I will.” She turned away to return the alcohol to the cabinet.
“Pirelli hasn’t bothered you, has he?”
Cameron squealed as she slammed the cabinet on her finger. “No.” She stuck the injured digit into her mouth. “Why?”
Max stepped closer and pulled her finger from her mouth. “Just doing my job.” He wrapped his hand around hers and massaged the swelling flesh.
“Your job?”
He nodded once and continued rubbing.
“It’s not your job to protect me, Max.”
He gave her a half smile. “Rachel would kill me if I let Pirelli anywhere near you.”
He stood confident she couldn’t argue with his reasoning and decided to give her something else to think about. His hand stilled just a moment before he lifted her finger to his mouth, sucked it inside, and traced it with his tongue several times. Her strangled gasp made him grin and he slowly withdrew her finger.
“Tempting a hungry lion with raw meat is dangerous, Princess.”
With one last cocky grin, he dropped her hand, walked to the door and left her dazed and motionless in the middle of the kitchen.
As soon as Max untangled himself from the sticky threads of Cameron’s invisible web, he gave himself a swift kick in the ass. That was not supposed to happen. He was only trying to turn the tables and prove to her that her teasing didn’t affect him. But it did, and in the process of teaching her a lesson, he’d made himself hard. He palmed the annoying bulge between his legs. Miserably hard.
He attempted to clear his mind as he got into his truck and white-knuckled the steering wheel. Cameron was just baiting him, trying to prove she always had the last word. He snickered as he pulled out of the driveway. Not only had she not had the last word this time, she hadn’t said a word at all.
* * *
CHAPTER FOUR
Cameron pierced the cement with her high heels as she entered her downtown office complex and walked across the lobby to wait for the elevator. The morning had been a total waste of time. Between the two hours she spent to convince a very stubborn client that leopard spots were probably not the best choice for living room walls, and a series of hang-up calls on her cell phone, she wanted to scream. To top it all off, she hadn’t slept well. Yesterday’s excitement saw to that.
Not only was she still humiliated that Max rescued her from the tree, she was equally humiliated that she allowed him to call her bluff. When she decided to tease him about his pain, she had no idea he’d reciprocate with his own challenge. A wave of heat rolled through her. The man was expertly skilled in the art of seduction. How could he not be? Half-naked women threw themselves at him daily.
She stopped to think about that for a minute as she stepped onto the elevator. She’d never seen Max with the same woman twice. Most women would find that unattractive, but she knew firsthand what a structured life he led. Max was a control freak. A very dedicated control freak. She was willing to bet that nothing interfered with his control. Including his individual needs. A warm willing woman to scratch an itch once in a while was definitely his style.
Yet, when he took her finger into his mouth, her pain traveled to a whole different part of her body and darn near made her faint. She couldn’t remember being that aroused. Ever. Seduction of that caliber took practice.
Needless to say, sleeping had not been easy. Max kept creeping into her thoughts and every time she dozed off, it was as if he yanked her pillow out from underneath her. Even the cat was so irritated he slept on the floor.
Cameron yawned and heard her cell phone ring. Juggling her purse and her sketch pad, she fumbled to find it before it stopped. She finally grasped it with two free fingers and untangled it from the strap of her purse.
“Cameron Tremaine.”
Silence greeted her.
She switched ears for better reception and checked the caller ID. Unknown caller.
“Hello?”
Nothing.
“I don’t have time for this,” she mumbled as she hit the end button and then buried the phone into the depths of her purse. After eight unknown callers in one day, she refused to answer it again.
As soon as the elevator delivered her to the fifth floor, Cameron stomped through the office door, right past Rachel, tossed her bag onto the couch, and threw herself down beside it.
“Obviously your meeting didn’t go well.” Rachel handed her a steaming mug. “You’re favorite, raspberry tea.”
“Thank you. Some people have no taste.”
Cameron’s cell phone rang again from the bottom of her purse. She ignored the noise and quietly sipped her tea.
“Aren’t you going to answer that?” Rachel asked.
Cameron gave Rachel her best yeah right look. “No.”
Rachel frowned. “You always answer your phone.”
“Not this time.” Cameron took another sip and swung one leg. “The stupid thing’s been ringing all morning.”
“That’s good, right? The more business, the better.”
Cameron sighed and set her mug on the table in front of the couch. “Normally,” she agreed, “except that every time I answer, no one is there.”
“Maybe it’s a bad connection.”
“Eight times?”
“What does the caller ID say?”
“Unknown caller.”
“Probably one of those computerized sales calls,” Rachel decided.
“Maybe.” She relaxed somewhat at Rachel’s suggestion. “I hadn’t thought about that.”
“Oh!” Rachel stood, picked up a tan envelope from the front desk and handed it to her. “You have mail.”
“Great!” Cameron grabbed the envelope and tore open the top. “Hopefully these are the swatches I’ve been waiting for.”
She gasped when three glossy 8x10 photos fell into her lap. Her stomach lurched as her eyes scanned photos of Sean and her at three different locations around town. Photos taken of what she’d considered private, romantic dates. Obviously, she’d been mistaken.
“Not swatches,” she whispered.
Rachel scooped the pictures from Cameron’s lap. “Anything else?”
Cameron nodded and unfolded a small slip of paper.
YOU CAN’T HIDE
“Cameron?” Rachel prodded. “What does it say?”
Cameron handed the note to Rachel and watched as the blood left her face.
“I don’t suppose there’s a return address,” Rachel murmured.
“No.”
“Any ideas?”
Cameron refolded the paper and placed it back into the envelope. “Vince.”
“He’s in jail.”
“No, he’s not. The warden called me a couple days ago. He’s out.”
“You really think this is from Vince?”
“Yes.”
“And the phone calls?”
“Yes.”
Rachel grabbed the phone. “We need help.”
“Who are you calling?”
“Hawke.”
“No offense, Rachel, but I don’t think
Music Man can help us much.”
“Shush,” Rachel snapped.
Cameron watched Rachel rub her stomach as she explained the situation to Hawke. Within seconds, she disconnected and re-dialed.
Cameron frowned. “That was fast. Now who are you calling?”
“Max,” Rachel said.
“Hawke’s Max?”
“Yes, Cameron, Max.”
To anyone else but Cameron, Rachel’s tone offered no argument, but Cameron wouldn’t summon Max out of fear.
She swallowed the softball in her throat. “Choose someone else.”
Rachel folded her arms across her chest in a bold dare. “No. We need Max.”
Cameron opened her mouth to issue a challenge then closed it, realizing Rachel wouldn’t budge. “Fine. Call Max.”
* * *
Max lifted a two hundred pound barbell from the cradle and pumped it several times before he replaced it. He lifted a lot more lately, all due to Cameron Tremaine. The feisty little pixie had managed to worm her way through his armor and wrap him around her little finger. Now that she saw Pirelli for the player he was, she turned her frustration toward him. Fiercely arousing him in the process.
He squeezed the metal in his grasp and lifted again. He had a pretty good idea that her playful insults and sassy attitude were defense mechanisms. Apparently, someone tried to intimidate her once upon a time and she was obviously hell-bent on making sure that never happened again. The cool steel touched his bare chest one last time and he exhaled before lifting it and returning it to the cradle. So, he’d tolerate her nicknames and haughty tone. Eventually she’d come to her senses and trust him. Or drive him crazy in the meantime.
He sat up and swabbed his forehead with a towel as his cell phone rang from the other room. Tossing the towel to the bench, he padded barefoot to the living room and answered the phone.
“Sterling.”
“Max? It’s Rachel.”
“Hey, Rachel.”
“I need you at the office. Right now.”
Something about Rachel’s demand put him on full alert. “Have you called security?”
He heard her breath hitch. “No, I’m fine. There’s just something here I want you to see.”
“Are you alone?”
“No, Cameron’s with me. We’re safe, Max, just hurry.”
“On my way.”
Within minutes, he was showered, dressed and parked outside of Newberry & Tremaine, still uneasy about Rachel’s call. The fact that Rachel had called him herself was unusual. He cringed as a shadow of darkness clouded his thoughts. Unless this had something to do with Cameron.
Max growled as he parked his truck and headed inside. Bypassing the elevator, he took the stairs two at a time and stalked through the front door of the office. His anger and suspicion dissipated as soon as he saw Cameron’s pasty expression, clearly one of fear.
“Ladies.” He nodded and sat down opposite them. “What can I do for you?”
“Cameron received some mail.” Rachel handed him an envelope.
He dumped the contents into his lap and quickly thumbed through the pictures. He paused to read the note.
“We’re worried,” Rachel said bluntly.
“Any idea who sent this?”
“Just an educated guess.” Cameron shot Rachel a warning glance.
After several seconds of silence, Max decided to proceed. “Are you going to let me in on the secret?”
Cameron stood and folded her arms across her chest. “Maybe, maybe not.”
Max glanced at Rachel who appeared to be awestruck by the interaction between him and Cameron. He fought the urge to suggest she duck out before objects flew around the room.
As if reading his mind, Rachel grabbed her bag and headed for the door. “Sorry, guys, I’ve got an appointment. You’re in good hands, Cameron. Call me later.”
Cameron watched open-mouthed as Rachel disappeared out the door.
Max snickered. “Serves you right. You set her up with Hawke.”
Cameron glared at him through narrow eyes.
He stood, grabbed her by the arm, and led her to the sofa. “Okay, Princess, who’d you piss off now?”
“What are you talking about?”
“If somebody’s after you, you obviously did something.”
“I most certainly did not!”
“Who then?”
She dismissed his question with a wave of her hand. “Just some jerk.”
“I can’t protect you if I don’t know what’s going on.”
“I don’t need you to protect me.”
Max sat silently and carefully chose his words before he put her in her place.
“Regardless of whether you need me or not, Hawke and Rachel are concerned, concerned enough to ask me to help. Now, tell me who found you.”
Cameron sighed. “You’re a pit bull, Max.”
“I am,” he agreed. “Who?”
She looked at him and for a split second he saw fear flash in her powder blue eyes. An average man would’ve missed it, but much to his relief, he wasn’t average. Anger began to rumble in his gut.
Rather than answer him, she reached to run her finger across the small diamond stud in his left ear. “You have an earring.”
Max sat stoic as she massaged his earlobe and willed himself to remain emotionless regardless of the fire raging inside him.
“How come I’ve never noticed?” she asked.
He exhaled in frustration. Fine. He’d play her way. “I don’t wear it when I work.”
He didn’t bother to tell her that it had been ripped out a time or two.
“I like it.” Her soft confession stoked the fire.
Down, Boy. She was a mark. A client. He had to remain detached.
“Me too. Now answer my question.”
“My ex-boyfriend, Vince Stone.”
“And he’s after you because…”
“He’s an idiot.”
“Being an idiot doesn’t necessarily make a criminal.”
“Yeah, well, he’s been in jail.”
“For what?”
“Stalking.”
“Stalking you?”
She nodded. “Me and several other women.”
Incredible. No one challenged Cameron on purpose, did they? “What makes you worthy of a repeat performance?”
“Believe it or not, Max,” she said defensively, “I’m worthy of lots of things.”
Ouch.
He grasped her shoulder in a calming gesture. “Why you?”
“Because I stood up to him. He wants me because I told him to go straight to hell.”
He inclined his head. She probably told him that and then some.
“Vince thinks he can intimidate me,” she added, ”but he can’t. Believe me, I can handle him.”
“Subduing him with hooker heels and pantyhose won’t work again,” he said easily.
“How did you know?” she squealed.
“I know.”
Max braced himself for the third degree and breathed a sigh of relief when she tossed her head back against the sofa and threw her hand over her forehead. “So now what?”
“What about your father?”
Even though she appeared unaffected by his question, tension vibrated from her body and traveled the distance between them. He caught a slight twitch of her lip. Maybe an eyebrow moved a millimeter. He knew body language; he might as well have branded her ass with a hot iron.
“What about him?” she asked finally.
“He’s a federal judge, Princess, he has resources and a helluva lot of influence. Besides, he knows Stone is out by now.”
She dropped her hand but didn’t open her eyes. “Under no circumstances is my father to know about this. Vince is harmless. I took care of him once and I can take care of him again.”
He knew better than to state the obvious. Daddy took care of him. “I think you should move in with Rachel.”
“No,” she said without hesitation.
“The place is a fortress. He can’t cause you trouble there.”
“No,” she repeated. “I can’t live there forever anyway. He’ll just wait me out.”
As much as he hated to admit it, she had a point. “Then there’s only one more option.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“You stick to me like glue.”
She raised her head. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“No.” She returned her head to its former resting place.
“Yes,” he insisted. “Don’t worry, I won’t cramp your style.”
She squeezed her eyes closed. “For how long?”
“As long as it takes.”
“So, every time I leave my house you’ll be with me?”
“No.”
“You’ll watch me through binoculars?”
“No.”
“What then?”
“I’m moving in.”
Cameron opened her eyes and sat up. “Think you can handle it, Superman?”
Max carefully considered his rash decision. Not one to react before thinking, he beat himself over the head. Now you’ve done it.
“Seriously,” he admitted slowly, “I really don’t know.”
She tapped her nails against the arm of the sofa and studied him for a moment before she spoke. “I need distraction.” She stood and reached for her purse.
Max took charge with quiet assurance as he heard a bell signal round two in his brain. Now that she’d worked through her fear, she was up and ready to swing the next punch.
He grasped her elbow. “Where are we going?”
She raised one fine eyebrow. “We?”
“We.”
A sweet, syrupy smile covered her mouth. “Shopping.”
“No.”
“Yes,” she insisted, “you need some color.”
“I don’t shop.”
She snorted. “Obviously. I promise it won’t hurt, Max.”
Bossy female. At least she’d stay out of trouble this way. Knowing full well she wouldn’t hesitate to leave without him, Max followed her out of the office, cursing himself the whole time.
