Shoes! They were one thing she hadn’t put into the smaller bag—the spare couple of pairs she’d brought with her were back in the car, in the larger of her two bags, which left her with only the ones she’d been wearing to travel in. Ridiculously impractical for wet weather, they were still damp and they’d look horribly out of place with her much lighter-toned outfit anyway. What was she going to do now?
A gentle knock at the door put the brakes on her mental panic. That would be Cam, ready to take her down to dinner. Perhaps he’d…
Stacie shook her head. Hold on, girl. Why would a stranger she’d only just met know what she should do about a pair of wet shoes? Hoping a smile would mask her embarrassment, she opened the door.
It was…a puzzling moment. Cam was there, mouth open as if he were about to say something but looking as stunned as she felt, after his eyes had swept over her from head to toe and lingered there, as if her bare feet had some strange fascination for him.
As for Stacie, all of a sudden her mouth was dry and her pussy drenched at the sight of a man who was pure sun god. The contrast between his blond hair, tanned skin and white polo shirt—with short sleeves that clung to his well-defined biceps and revealed the bold design of a tribal-style tattoo adorning his upper right arm—was breathtaking, while the clean but faded jeans emphasised long legs and muscular thighs. His feet were shod in tan leather loafers that bore the distinctive hallmark of very expensive quality.
Stacie’s gaze returned to his face, her brow creasing in a tiny puzzled frown when she realised he was still looking at her feet. Her immaculately pedicured toes scrunched up in automatic reaction, the small movement enough to break the spell.
“Ready?” he prompted, offering his hand.
Stacie smiled awkwardly. “You won’t believe this, but I don’t have any shoes. The ones I was wearing are still wet, and at the risk of sounding like a drama queen—which I promise I’m not usually—they’d look silly with this anyway.” She gestured at her clothes.
He looked her up and down again, then his eyes flicked briefly towards the shoes a few feet away. “You’re right, they wouldn’t suit your outfit. Don’t worry about it.”
And then, to her immense surprise he toed off his shoes, revealing long, bony, masculine feet as sun-kissed as the rest of him. “Safety in numbers, Stacie—now you won’t be the odd one out. Shall we go?”
With that, he took her hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm.
The muscular forearm made her fingers itch to test its strength—she was equally entranced by the fine golden hair that glinted in the light. And the scent of him—she could get drunk on that alone. Clean, fresh and boldly masculine, he smelled even better than he had in the car, something she wouldn’t have believed possible.
“Beth’s cooking dinner tonight,” he told her as they descended the staircase together. “She said it’s nothing special, in view of the party tomorrow.”
“Party?”
“To celebrate Beth’s latest achievement. She’s got caterers coming in tomorrow morning, but—ever the perfectionist—she’s been fretting about all the arrangements for the better part of a week. Alex has been telling her all day not to worry about it.”
Stacie smiled, wondering at the little pang of disappointment she experienced when she realised she’d be on her way well before the celebration started. It was nothing to do with her, she reminded herself—these people, who appeared to be especially close friends of Cam’s, had just been kind enough to offer her their hospitality for the night. Tomorrow she’d be dealing with a car that didn’t work and finding the hotel where she was supposed to be avoiding Jonty and getting her act together.
What would it have been like, though, to be the woman having that conversation as Cam’s partner, invited to join the festivities with him? She wanted to ask what Beth’s achievement was, but she was wary of prying into something that wasn’t really any of her business.
The room to which Cam took her was both informal and luxurious, and already inhabited by two people who together made a simply stunning couple. Alex rose to greet them, one dark eyebrow ascending as he took in the sight of two pairs of bare feet.
“Cam, I know we’re pretty casual around here—”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Lombard,” Stacie interjected, her face colouring with embarrassment. “It’s entirely my fault. My shoes are still wet and I only have the one pair with me—the others are back in the car.”
“Oh lord.” Beth came to join her husband, her eyes on Stacie’s feet now as well. “You poor thing. I’d offer you a pair of mine, but I think they’d be about two sizes too big for you. Alex?”
Speechless, Stacie watched the other woman elbow her husband in the ribs at the same time as she slipped off her own shoes. The heels on them were three, maybe even four inches high. Just the thought of trying to walk in shoes like that gave Stacie vertigo. And with Beth now barefoot, Alex became an even more imposing presence in the room.
“That’s so much better!” Beth pronounced with a sigh. “I feel like I’ve had them on all day. It’s such a relief to be out of them!”
Stacie tried her best to stifle the chuckle, especially when she caught sight of the resigned expression on Alex Lombard’s face as he joined in with everyone else.
“Stacie, please—call me Alex. Won’t you sit down and join us in a glass of champagne to celebrate?”
It was all so warm and friendly and comfortable, Stacie thought a few minutes later. She was sitting beside Cam on one of the two big sofas, champagne flute in hand, and still pondering exactly what was being celebrated. Alex and Beth sat together on the other sofa, Beth with her feet tucked up beside her as she curled into her husband’s side. His arm was wrapped around her, while her hand was resting on his thigh. They looked so at ease together, two halves of a whole and each the perfect complement to the other.
Stacie wondered how long they’d been married. Alex looked to be about the same age as Cam, slightly taller than him, she thought, with dark hair and dark eyes and a faintly forbidding air about him, until his face broke into a smile. And he was utterly in love with his wife—anyone could see that. There was also something protective to the point of being proprietorial about the way he was holding her.
Jonty would never have looked at her like that. Stacie knew that now—and it hurt. Not because she’d lost him—it was because he simply wasn’t that kind of man, and she found herself wanting that kind of man…the kind of man she’d been convinced couldn’t exist outside the pages of the steamy romances she read. And if Alex had the look of a romantic hero, then so did Cam. He also had that extra something that was getting her all hot and bothered in a way that was so bad, it was good. Too good.
She struggled to haul her sensible side to the fore. The three people in whose company she sat were way out of her league. All three were stylish, sophisticated and very wealthy, even if they weren’t as openly ostentatious about it as those who actively sought the limelight. She was an admin assistant in a large office, and financially she lived from payday to payday. They were worlds apart.
There was something else as well. She had to face up to the one fact she’d been avoiding—that Cam could easily have a significant other who for whatever reason hadn’t accompanied him on his visit. Stacie had no choice but to pack her fantasies away and try to forget they’d ever existed.
“Stacie? Are you all right?”
The sound of Cam’s concerned voice just inches away brought her out of the depressing gloom of her thoughts. She was tired—that had to be why her mind was wandering all over the place. She plastered a bright smile on her face even though her heart wasn’t fully in it. “I’m sorry—it’s been a long day.”
“And we’re not helping by delaying dinner with all this chatter.” Beth stood up. “Come on—we’re eating in the kitchen tonight. All I can say,” she continued with a mischievous smile as she looked down at her wiggling toes, “is thank God for underfloor heating!”
&nbs
p; The meal was delicious and yet another reason for Stacie to be envious of her gracious hostess—if Beth hadn’t been the kind of person it was impossible not to like. The other woman was bright and charming, and warm and friendly, with a loving streak a mile wide—Stacie saw it in the way she would touch her husband’s shoulder as she moved past him and the glances she gave him while they were eating. She didn’t know why, but every time she noticed one of the little caring gestures Stacie felt the urge to steal an eyeful of Cam.
But as the meal and the evening progressed, what Stacie also observed was the gradual way that Beth was becoming more and more tense. If it was related to what she was talking about it, it was all to do with the forthcoming party. Nor did it go unnoticed by her husband. Stacie couldn’t miss the way he repeatedly looked in her direction. It was quite touching really, but at the same time Stacie felt that there was an odd undertone to the way he was looking at her, his eyes narrowing almost as if he were analysing her behaviour.
After dinner they adjourned to the room—the family room, they called it—where they’d toasted Beth earlier, with the exception of Alex, who excused himself and disappeared. It might have been her imagination, but before he left Stacie thought she saw a look full of hidden meaning flash between the two men, a thought that she dismissed almost as soon as it occurred. She really was developing an overactive imagination. Probably down to too much alcohol, a growing tiredness and all the emotional stress of a very long day.
Over coffee, Stacie found herself relaxing a little more—it was strange but she was starting to feel as if she’d known these people for a lot longer than just a few hours. Against her better judgement she was getting way too comfortable. Another reason why she shouldn’t have succumbed to that last glass of wine with dinner. The conversation was in full flow when it was interrupted by a single word.
“Beth.”
It was almost a replay of what had happened when she and Cam had first arrived. All three of them looked up to see Alex filling the doorway—he certainly knew how to make an entrance. His expression was neutral but there was something about his voice, the way he spoke his wife’s name, that sent a slightly unsettling shiver down Stacie’s spine. Appearing to be almost in a trance, Beth stood up and went to her husband.
“Cam, you know where everything is—would you look after Stacie, please? If you’ll excuse me, both of you?”
Cam risked a glance at Stacie as she watched his friends depart, her expression clearly mystified. He was hoping that she wouldn’t ask any awkward questions. No such luck—the awkward questions started almost immediately.
“What was all that about? Is she all right?”
To give Stacie her due, she did sound genuinely concerned—Cam liked that, even if he wasn’t happy about dodging the verbal bullets coming his way. He knew exactly what his friend was up to and didn’t relish the prospect of trying to focus Stacie’s attention elsewhere. He sure as hell couldn’t tell her the truth. “She’s fine,” he said dismissively. “Fancy another coffee?”
His companion wasn’t about to fall for his diversionary tactics. “He doesn’t hit her, does he?”
Now why would she leap to that particular conclusion? Cam took in the frown that accompanied the fierce question, wondering if personal experience was the explanation. His fingers twitched as he curbed the urge to form a fist at the thought of some bastard raising his hand to this lovely young woman.
And how in the name of heaven could he answer the damn question? Not in the way you mean, Stacie. Only because he has her permission to do it, Stacie. Every stroke is given and received with love, Stacie.
He had to think fast. This woman wasn’t part of the community and unlike Beth, she didn’t show any signs of being a sub in the making—when she’d greeted him with bare feet it had been for purely practical reasons, not submissive ones, no matter what his rebellious libido might have wanted.
No, she’d never understand.
“Would a man who laid his life on the line to save his wife’s life abuse her?” Cam asked without rancour. “Alex and I were in the forces together—I’ve known him for over twenty years. I’ve known Beth since she went to work for him. Don’t worry, everything’s fine—it’s probably just something to do with the party. You know how it is with these things.”
It was too much to hope that she wouldn’t have picked up on every particular of what he’d just said. She looked at him with eyes wide open—he had a feeling what was coming next.
“Beth’s life was in danger? What happened?”
Cam kept the details to a minimum. Even so, the way Stacie’s face paled did not escape him as he related an abridged account of the incident. A year down the line, and it still made his blood run cold to recall how a deranged lunatic, bent on revenge for his brother’s demise, had threatened both Beth and Alex. All so unnecessary. If only his arsehole of a sibling had followed Alex’s orders and not gone rushing into that booby-trapped building, then Alex wouldn’t have been injured while trying to rescue him. Nor would Beth have been subjected to a terrifying ordeal and the sight of her now-husband fighting for both their lives.
“And Alex was wounded in the process of rescuing her. He’s fine now, though.”
She nodded slowly. “What happened to the man—Underwood?”
The threat was neutralised. He doubted that Stacie would take the news well, however he broke it to her. “You have to understand—he was playing for keeps. As far as we can tell, he planned it to be double murder/suicide. Alex had no choice, if he was to save Beth.”
He watched her put two and two together, saw the way she came to the correct conclusion. “It was self-defence, Stacie. He was going to kill both of them—me too.”
“You were there?”
Cam nodded. “I was still searching outside the house when Alex came back to check the interior and make sure Beth was all right. He found Underwood had taken her as his hostage—not that he had any intention of releasing her, his goal was to torture Alex. I’d just returned to the house when I heard the fight and then the gun shot. Underwood was going to use explosives to kill both of them and himself—I’d have been collateral damage.”
“Oh my God.” Horror turned her voice into a whisper.
“It’s over,” Cam countered forcefully. He hadn’t expected the story to affect her the way it clearly had. “It’s been over for a long time. Don’t think about it.”
Her expression slowly changed from one of shock to one of reflection. “You said Beth works for Alex?”
“Until Alex sold his business late last year, she was his executive assistant. Since then, he’s been supporting Beth in her new career.”
“She’s lucky,” Stacie said after a telling pause, during which her eyes paid a brief visit to a past that wasn’t the happiest. Cam detected an almost wistful quality in her voice. “What does she do now?”
“Given that the party tomorrow is to celebrate the publication of her second novel a few days from now, I think we can all comfortably start calling her a writer,” Cam replied. Although she wasn’t his, Cam still felt very proud of his friend’s wife and what she’d accomplished in such a relatively short space of time. “We probably won’t see them again until tomorrow.”
And that was another lie. Cam knew full well he’d see them both a little later on, after Stacie was safely tucked up in bed for the night. “Now—about that coffee. Give me a few minutes and you can tell me all about what you’re running away from.”
While making the drinks, Cam mulled over his interest in Stacie Matheson and whatever it was that had put her to flight. Common sense dictated that he mind his own business and leave well alone, but for reasons he didn’t want to delve into too deeply he wanted to make sure she was all right. Sending her on her way—even with her transport problem solved—had a sense of unfinished business about it.
Returning with two mugs, he paused in the doorway, wanting to get a good look at Stacie with her guard down. What he saw was a young w
oman with the kind of beauty that hit him like a physical blow and an air of vulnerable preoccupation that struck him as being way out of proportion with the inconvenience of broken-down vehicle. No, she was troubled by a lot more than that heap of a car, and Cam found himself not just wanting to know all about it, but to do something about it as well.
“Here you go.” He held out one of the mugs as he approached, noting with interest the way her smile returned and for a moment covered all traces of her anxiety.
“Thanks.” She took the mug in both hands and pursed her lips for a cautious sip of the steaming brew. “Mm, that’s good—thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Cam took a moment to dim the lights, creating a more intimate environment in which he hoped she might find it easier to divulge what was bothering her so much. The question as to why he was so interested, he parked at the back of his mind. He set his mug down on the coffee table and sat beside her, leaning back into the corner of the sofa so that he had a better view of his unexpected but very welcome companion.
For a few seconds he simply looked at her, finding a somewhat perverse pleasure in the way she began to fidget under his silent, assessing gaze. Her features settled in an expression that was a curious mix of smile and frown.
“Why…What is it? Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have broccoli stuck between my teeth?”
She looked like she was about to give in to a nervous giggle. Cam, on the other hand, had never felt less like laughing in his life—leaving aside the times he’d seen his closest friend, Alex Lombard, at death’s door. And the reason he’d never felt less like laughing was that what he saw in Stacie was attracting him like a moth to a flame. He wanted her. In the space of just those few seconds, mild interest had transformed into powerful desire. It felt as if whatever had been missing from his life had just slotted into place.
Which was utterly crazy.
He reached to touch Stacie’s face but paused just before he made contact. He didn’t have the right to do what instinct cried out for him to do. “May I?”
Love Is Danger Page 3
