Love Is Danger

by Christie Adams

  While Alex went to get the Range Rover out of the garage located at the rear of the house, Cam headed off to find Stacie—it appeared that she was still in her room, having excused herself after breakfast so that she could gather her belongings together. He was about to knock on the bedroom door when it opened. She smiled in greeting but the smile didn’t quite reach her lovely eyes.

  He kept his tone light and easy. “Ready to go?”

  She glanced around. Beyond her, Cam could see that the bed was neatly made—the room didn’t even look as if it had been occupied. She stooped to pick up the bag at her feet, which Cam promptly took from her.

  “I think so. It was good of your friends to let a stranger stay overnight. I’m sure Beth will be glad to have me out of her hair while she prepares for the party.”

  Cam smiled. “If I know Beth, she’d be happy to have you stay for as long as you needed. Anyway, Alex is taking us to your car, and we’re both going to wait with you until you’re safely on your way again.”

  The very idea seemed to horrify her. “You can’t possibly do that. Cam, I’m very grateful, but the car’s my problem. I can’t impose on you and the Lombards for any longer than is really necessary—I can’t. You’ve all been so generous already.”

  “You seriously think we’d leave you in the middle of nowhere without any definite plan of action?” All at once, Cam found himself wanting to put her over his knee, no matter how absurd a reaction that might be. “No way this side of hell, Stacie. And when you get to where you’re going, I want to know you’ve arrived safely. Is that clear?”

  He would tolerate nothing less. There was something about this woman that was drawing out every last protective instinct he possessed. It even came out in the hand he plastered to the small of her back as they descended the staircase and went out to join Alex in his 4x4. Beth was there too, waiting to bid Stacie farewell, which she did with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and a point-blank refusal to accept any thanks.

  “It’s been our pleasure, Stacie, honestly. It’s been lovely to meet you, and please stop by and say hello if you’re ever in this area again. You will, won’t you?”

  “You’d better, honey,” Cam said, with a wry grin, “or we’ll never hear the end of it.”

  He stashed Stacie’s bag on the back seat of Alex’s car, then helped the bag’s owner into the front passenger seat. He sat behind her, trying not to fixate on the fact that his time in her company was now on a final countdown. She was going to be given his mobile phone number, whether she liked it or not, and he fully intended to reiterate the point he’d already made about calling him on arrival.

  What he hadn’t quite figured out, though, was whether he was going to do what he should and leave it at that, or obey the clamour of his instincts and his body, and ensure that he would see her again.

  *

  Stan, the mechanic, dropped the bonnet of Stacie’s car and wiped his hands on the rag he took from the pocket of his overalls. He then proceeded to remove his cap, wipe his sleeve over his brow and slap the cap back on his balding head. He looked at Cam and gave a faint shake of his head, as if to confirm what Cam already suspected about the wreck of a car.

  “It’s the head gasket all right, and if I were you, love,” he looked squarely at Stacie, “I’d give serious consideration to scrapping it rather than repairing it—it’s likely to cost more than the car’s worth.”

  Cam turned his attention to the car’s owner. Stacie looked as if the universe had just dumped its latest and biggest pile of crap on her. He wasn’t sure she even realised that the mechanic was waiting for her decision.

  “Stacie?”

  She looked up at him, her expression blank. “Sorry—what did you say?”

  “He wants to know what you want to do with the car.”

  “I can take it back to the garage for you, take another look and give you an estimate, or if you want rid of it I can haul it to my nephew’s scrapyard,” Stan expounded. “There’s still some value in it broken up.”

  Cam debated for a moment, and then put a firm arm around Stacie’s slender shoulders. She really seemed to be struggling with the decision she was being called upon to make. In a split second, the space between two heartbeats, he made a choice—and it wasn’t to remain distant and resigned to letting this woman walk out of his life. “Give us a moment to empty it and then take it to the scrapyard. It’s so old, it’s a bloody death trap anyway.”

  At that point, Stacie found her voice—it was a study in irate indignation.

  “Just a minute!” She placed herself between the men and her vehicle. “This is my car—who do you think you are,” she prodded Cam in the chest, “telling him to scrap my car?”

  Her question was clearly aimed with deadly force at Cam. The verbal grenade was the last thing he was expecting. He glanced at Alex, standing a few feet away with his arms folded across his chest. Helpful as ever, Alex raised both hands in a gesture of surrender. “Hey, leave me out of it, Cam. You’re running this op.”

  With an irritated grunt, Cam took a step closer to Stacie, leaning one hand on the edge of the car roof, almost trapping her between the car and his body. “Didn’t you hear what I said, Stacie? The bloody thing’s a death trap. It’s over twelve years old and it’s worth fuck-all. Give me a few days, and I can source a decent replacement for you.”

  Which will give me the opportunity to stay in touch with you. It was heavensent. The impulsive offer was the opening he needed to justify maintaining contact with Stacie. Common sense had fought the flare of desire…and lost. He didn’t want a quick liaison with this woman—he wanted a real relationship with her.

  “I can’t afford to replace it!” She gulped back a sob, all the wind suddenly gone from her sails. “I can’t afford to repair it either, not if it’s going to be that much,” she added quietly, almost as if she were thinking out loud.

  “Stacie, listen to me. Even without the head gasket going, this car’s on its way out. Making that repair will cost hundreds, take my word for it.” It might have been a long time ago, but he still recalled the pain of the bill he’d received for something similar—he’d even ended up working some of the debt off. “And even if you do get it fixed, it’ll only be a matter of time before something else major goes wrong with it, given its age—I know from experience. I’d much rather you let me replace it for you—I can afford it. And if you really feel the need to pay me back,” he continued sternly, quelling her imminent protest, “we can make a financial arrangement that you can afford.”

  “Of course I’d pay you back!” She looked horrified, as if the thought of doing anything other than that was completely intolerable. “You’d do that? Lend me the money for a car? But I’m a stranger. You don’t know me—”

  “I’m an excellent judge of character,” Cam interrupted her. Then he smiled. “And besides, I like you. Come on, let’s get your things into Alex’s car.” He glanced at the man in question, who nodded reassuringly at the young woman but somehow also managed to give Cam a look that said he was clearly insane.

  “Stacie, it looks like you might be staying with us for a few days after all. You’re more than welcome to join the party tonight—you can keep an eye on this old reprobate.” He jerked a thumb in Cam’s direction.

  “Hey, less of the old, old man,” Cam countered, with plenty of emphasis on the nickname.

  Together the three of them cleared Stacie’s belongings out of her car. Alex took the large bag to the 4x4. Cam was helping Stacie with her personal bits and pieces when his eyes locked onto the almost-new paperback she was about to drop into her tote bag. It was the first time he’d seen it in the hands of someone outside their circle, and although he knew exactly how popular the novel was, it was still like a punch to the solar plexus to see an outsider with it.

  “What’s that?” He hoped his voice wasn’t really as gruff as it sounded to him.

  To his surprise, she gave a slightly embarrassed grin. “It’s nothing, just a
bit of light reading. It’s a really popular romance—one of my friends recommended it.”

  It was a romance, all right—one Cam had in part witnessed firsthand. The book she was holding was a copy of Beth Lombard’s first novel, published under a pseudonym, and Cam knew for a fact that Beth had based sections of it on her own experience. He’d been lucky enough to read one of the advance copies.

  “I think that’s the one some of my female friends have been reading—cover looks familiar. What do you think of it?” He was trying for casual—from the look on Alex’s face as he returned to see what the hold-up was, he was making a pretty poor job of it.

  Her smile was amazing. “I love it—it’s the best thing I’ve read in ages. I know it sounds crazy, because this stuff just doesn’t exist in real life, but there are times when I wish I could meet a—”

  She broke off as colour flamed in her cheeks. “Sorry,” she apologised, shoving the book and a pack of wipes into her bag. “Too much information. And I really shouldn’t keep the poor man waiting.” She glanced towards the mechanic.

  No, not enough information and she was keeping him waiting, Cam thought in frustration.

  Did he dare push her into completing the statement? Not right now, that would be showing an undue amount of interest, but maybe he could finesse her into doing just that over the course of the next few hours—before the party started and the cat was let out of the bag with a vengeance.

  He felt his balls clench as unbidden thoughts entered his mind, filling in the blanks in what she’d started to say. Meet a what? A Dom? Enjoying Beth’s book didn’t automatically mean she was submissive. He couldn’t be that lucky.

  Could he?

  *

  When they returned to the house a short while later, Alex watched his old friend escort their unexpected houseguest back to her room, the two of them carrying the personal belongings they’d retrieved from her car.

  He shook his head—and Cam didn’t think he had it bad? He’d only just met the woman, but he’d offered to finance a car for her, for God’s sake! And now he’d taken it upon himself to keep her entertained while he, Alex, went in search of his wife. His assumption, that she would probably be getting ready to deal with the catering company and the four-piece band that would be providing the entertainment that evening, proved to be correct.

  He found her in the bedroom.

  “Back already?” She smiled over her shoulder as she rummaged through a drawer full of scarves and other accessories. “That was quick. Is Stacie’s car back on the road now? She was nice, I really liked her. You know, we should have asked her to stay for the party.”

  Alex leaned his shoulder against the door frame, arms folded, patiently waiting for his wife to let him get a word in edgeways. He loved the way she’d blossomed over the last few months. He loved her, even if he didn’t quite understand why she felt the need to change into something smart to greet the caterers. He’d long since come to the conclusion that there were some things about her that he simply wasn’t meant to understand—it was all part of her primal mystery.

  “Then you’ll be glad to know, my sweet, that she’s back. Her car was terminal, so she’s going to stay with us for a few days until Cam gets her back on the road again. And get this—he’s going to finance a car for her. I know he’s interested in her, but a car? It’s now official—Cam Fraser has lost it. He is certifiably wacko.”

  Very slowly, Beth straightened up and turned to her husband. The expression on her face spoke volumes about her doubts regarding his sanity. “What? Are you sure that’s what he meant? What did he say, exactly?”

  Alex sighed, and then repeated his friend’s words. He didn’t then expect his wife to smile and give a little chuckle.

  “Well, that’s one way of staying in touch with her. I mean, if she’s going to pay him back for the car, they’ll be in regular contact, won’t they?”

  He could see where this was heading—time to get serious. “No matchmaking, Beth. I mean it. Do we have to go over it again?”

  His darling wife feigned innocence. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. I’m just saying…if she’s going to pay him back for the car, they’ll be in touch.”

  What he needed to do was to divert her focus elsewhere…and Alex knew exactly what would grab her attention. “There’s something else—our unexpected houseguest is a fan.”

  “What?”

  Alex grinned—objective achieved. “Stacie has your book. Now do you believe I didn’t buy up every copy and bury them in the grounds?” He made a grab for his wife and started nuzzling her neck.

  “Oh God. Alex, stop that!” She slapped his arm and then froze. “Oh shit.”

  “Potty mouth,” he scolded placidly. “What now?”

  “The party. She’s going to know who I am. Alex, will you stop that? I’m trying to think! She’s going to know I wrote that book!”

  Alex shrugged, unable to see the problem. “Just like everyone else will. You knew that would happen when we decided to have the party. So she’s one of your adoring public. Just make sure you have your autographing arm at the ready.”

  His wife was not to be placated. “She may not be adoring.”

  Oh, he was so tempted to hold back what he knew, but only for a moment. “What was it she said? ‘I love it—it’s the best thing I’ve read in ages.’”

  “Don’t joke! This is serious!”

  “I’m not joking, sweetheart. Those were her exact words.” He held her a little closer. “We don’t have to have the party, you know—we could always cancel. Or we have the party and say nothing. You don’t have to tell anyone outside those of our friends who already know.” The option had been at the back of Alex’s mind all along. It was always useful to have a backup plan.

  “No.” All of a sudden, Beth became very calm, finding the inner strength that had helped him to deal with the demons from his past. “I said I was going to do this, and I’m not backing out now.”

  A familiar pride flowed through him. “That’s my girl. Now, why don’t you finish changing and we’ll go and meet the caterers.”

  *

  Stacie flopped down onto the bed in the room she’d vacated just a short time ago. What on earth was she going to do? This was not how she had been planning to spend this weekend—she was supposed to be fifty miles away, in a little bed and breakfast, avoiding Jonty, and wallowing in chocolate and erotic romance.

  She was not supposed to be in a luxurious suite in a beautiful house, just a few feet away from a man so tasty that he made her want to overindulge in all the naughtiest things imaginable. She glanced over at Cam, who seemed to be watching her with an unusual intensity from his almost sentinel-like position by the door. He appeared to be waiting for something.

  “I’m sorry,” she finally muttered, figuring that he must have been expecting an apology for her outburst at the car—after all, he’d shown her nothing but care and concern and the sort of generosity that came along once in a lifetime. Not that—now she’d had time to think about it—she had any intention of taking up that offer. She’d manage…somehow.

  “What are you apologising for, honey?”

  Stacie looked at her feet. The bed was so high that they couldn’t reach the floor, and all of a sudden she felt about seven years old again. “Back at the car.” She sighed. “I shouldn’t have poked you.”

  “Oh, that.” Cam lifted an eyebrow as he considered the action in question. “Trust me, I’ll recover. I’m not quite the fragile blossom I appear to be.”

  Stacie pressed her lips together in an attempt to stifle an involuntary snigger—he was so far removed from a fragile blossom, it was untrue. Cam Fraser was more like the sturdiest of English oaks.

  “I don’t suppose you happened to bring your party animal outfit with you?” he continued, studying her with his head canted slightly to one side as if he were imagining her in said outfit.

  She shook her head. “I wasn’t planning on attending any formal social
events this weekend,” she said with a shrug. “It’s all right, I can stay up here and read, I don’t mind—”

  “I do.” His voice cut ruthlessly across hers, startling her. The sudden fierceness of his expression also threw her. “You’ve been invited to the party, Cinderella, so you’re not staying up here while we’re dancing the night away downstairs. Besides,” he continued, his face relaxing into an almost little-boy grin, “I need a dance partner.”

  Her head shot up at that comment. “Don’t you have—?”

  “Nope, so you’re it. I already have my party frock, so you and I need to go on a little shopping expedition—dress, shoes, the works. And I know just where we can get them.” He held out his hand. “Come on—we have work to do.”

  Chapter 4

  Cam was in deep trouble and falling in deeper by the minute. Not that he was complaining.

  He’d realised, much to his chagrin, that based on their initial encounter he’d made several assumptions about the woman seated beside him, and the one about her being quiet and shy was at best only half-true. Even now, as they drove into town on a mission to find her a suitable outfit for the evening, there was an undercurrent of vivacity about her that was putting him even further under her spell.

  “So, Stacie Matheson, are you going to tell me some more about yourself?” Cam said at length. He tried to make the enquiry sound casual, when the truth was it was anything but casual. Suddenly, everything about this woman had assumed a level of importance that was growing exponentially. He had a feeling that the Stacie he’d met the day before was not the real Stacie at all, and that she was now venturing out to play.

  And he liked her—more than was probably good for his peace of mind, but in his line of business, he was used to dealing with the unexpected.

  “What do you want to know?”

  Concentrating on driving conditions, he could only afford a quick glance in her direction. Cold, hard facts were one thing, but what Cam wanted to know was far more intimate. There was one question, though, that might kill two interesting birds with one stone.