Outspoken Angel (14 page)

Alarm bells pierced his inner calm as he
forced his eyes from her thighs and moved them down her never
ending legs until they finally rested on her killer red hooker
heels. His whole body pulsed and urged him to take her right then
and there, on the sixth step, with her wearing nothing but the
spiked temptations. Unfortunately, she wore an
I’m-on-a-mission
expression, one that snapped him from his
lustful appreciation and back into pest control mode.

Before she reached the bottom step, he moved
forward, braced one arm against the wall, and grabbed the railing
with the other. No chance of escape.

“And just where do you think you’re
going?”

She backed up a couple of stairs and narrowed
her determined, silvery blue eyes on him like a laser. “I have a
meeting with a new client.”

He squeezed the banister to restrain himself
from reaching for her. “Your office isn’t finished yet.”

She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I’m supposed
to meet him at his new house.”

His jaw locked. “Him? What’s his name?”

“Calvin Thomas. He just bought a house here
in town and he needs an interior decorator.”

“Let me run a check on him first. Then I’ll
take you.”

She rolled her eyes at his order and swayed
back toward him. “There’s no time, Your Bossiness. I’m supposed to
be there in twenty minutes.” She attempted to pry his arm from the
rail, stirring up the pheromones in the air as she struggled. When
his arm wouldn’t budge, she let go and folded her arms under her
breasts. “I’m going, with or without you.”

Max gave himself half a second before he
responded.
With or without him
. The woman had brass
balls.

He lifted his arm from the rail. “Give me a
second, then we’ll take my truck.”

“Why? What’s wrong with my car?”

He grinned and stomped past her to the top of
the stairs. “I like to breathe. Between your driving skills and my
knees crushing my chest, it’s almost impossible.”

Realizing he had about two minutes before she
bailed, he went into the spare bedroom and added another revolver
to his stash. He shook his head as he tucked the gun and a pair of
handcuffs into his waistband, out of her view. Funny how important
her feelings had become to him. Hell, how important she had become
to him. He scrubbed his hand down the side of his face before he
threw his sunglasses over his eyes and marched back downstairs.
I am so screwed
.

Cameron grabbed her sketchbook and a pencil.
“That was fast.”

He opened the front door and motioned her
out. “I only changed shoes once.”

When he opened the door of the truck, she
gave him a puzzled look.

He frowned. “What’s the problem?”

She raised her chin at the open door of the
truck, then looked back down at her hip-hugging skirt.

“I could get you a step ladder,” he
offered.

Amusement sparkled in her eyes as she called
his bluff and reached for the hem of her skirt. “Or I could just
hike my skirt all the way up and climb in.”

He grasped her waist and lifted her into the
truck. “Cool it, or I might change my mind about us going.” He
slammed the door before she could blast him with a tongue
lashing.

As soon as he climbed in the truck and closed
his door, he knew he was in trouble. Things were entirely too quiet
in the passenger seat. 5..4..3..2..

“I am not your prisoner or your property,
Max.” Her lemon drop yellow curls bounced off her shoulders with
each accented syllable. “I have a business to run and new clients
keep me in business. So don’t even go there!”

Pissed off at her temper tantrum, he peered
at her over his sunglasses.

“I don’t like going in blind, but I’m doing
it, for you. It’s my way or none. If you refuse to cooperate, I
will bring you home, even if I have to handcuff you to me.
Understand?”

Her anger seemed to dissipate at his
outburst.

“You make me hot when you act tough,
Maxie.”

A smile teased the corners of his mouth.
“It’s not an act.” He started the truck. “Let’s get this over
with.”

“If you’re going to take that attitude, you
might as well stay in the truck when we get there.”

“Nice try, but it won’t work. Stuck like
glue, remember?”

She banged her head against the back of the
seat and closed her eyes. “I really need an extra Spa Day.”

He took one look at the artfully-disguised
dark circles under her eyes and damn near jerked the keys from the
ignition. What the hell was he doing? Neither one of them had slept
in days and exhaustion was their worst enemy. She had no business
leaving the house until Stone was apprehended. What he really
needed to do was toss her across his knee and show her exactly who
was boss. Maybe then she’d finally understand who ran this
show.

Sure she would.

He glanced out the passenger window then
turned to peer out his. Where was that son of a bitch? He gave the
steering wheel a tense squeeze and looked at Cameron one last
time.

She opened one eye. “Drive, Max.”

Against his never-fail gut feeling, he lifted
one heavy boot, mashed the brake pedal, shifted into reverse, and
backed out of the driveway.

There were no vehicles in the driveway of the
vacant house when they arrived. The FOR SALE sign was topped with
SOLD, but the house appeared empty. Suspicion invaded his senses.
No furniture, no welcoming chairs on the porch, and the front door
stood wide open. A shiver of alarm skittered across the back of his
neck.

* * *

His heart pounded in satisfaction as he
watched Cameron get out of the truck and shift her skirt. He basked
in his newfound confidence. That’s a good girl, come to Papa. Two
seconds later, the grin slid from his face and slapped the
sidewalk. The bald mammoth was supposed to stay in the truck! His
plan was to grab Cameron and sneak out the back door. Until they
screwed it up. Slamming his palms against the steering wheel, he
drove away before his car could be spotted.

* * *

Max cursed under his breath and grabbed
Cameron by the arm as she pranced onto the porch and headed inside
the house. “What are you doing?”

She glanced at his fingers wrapped around her
skin and then gave him a silent reprimand with the lift of an
eyebrow. He released his hold.

“Thank you.” She took another step forward.
“Mr. Thomas said it would be unlocked and if he wasn’t here, I
should go on in and check the place out.”

He stepped in front of her and once again
prevented her movement. “Not until I search the compound.” He
pushed her behind him. “Wait here. I really have a bad feeling
about this.”

“I don’t think so. I’m your shadow.”

He drilled her with a penetrating stare. She
belonged in his truck, behind the tinted windows with the doors
locked. Better yet, a steel cage with several padlocks.

He exhaled in exasperation and squeezed her
shoulder. “Ten minutes.”

He followed her to each room, opening closets
and checking behind doors.

“See, no Boogeymen,” she chided. “Mr. Thomas
is just running late. Now relax, Terminator, and let me get a feel
for the place.”

The house remained deathly quiet, except for
her heels clicking on the hardwood and tile floors as she flitted
from room to room. He followed closely and watched her take notes,
his senses on full alert. As they passed the master bedroom, a
sudden thin chill crossed his spine.

This is a trap
.

“Time’s up, Cupcake.” He took her by the
elbow and steered her toward the front door.

“No,” she said, digging in her heels. “He’ll
be here any minute.”

“We’re leaving. Now.”

She shrugged his hand from her elbow and
tapped one fiery red shoe. “No, we’re not.”

His first thought was to pick her up and
throw her over his shoulder, never mind her kicking and screaming.
She could make as much noise as she wanted, it would only take two
minutes tops to subdue her. His fingers itched to grab the
handcuffs tucked into the back of his waistband.

His heart hammered and anger singed the
corners of his control. “Knock it off. This act you’ve got going is
getting old.”

Cameron’s mouth fell open and she dropped her
pencil to the floor. “What act?”

“You want me and everybody else to believe
you’re some sort of carefree airhead. I don’t buy it.”

He felt his temper rise as they exchanged a
long deep look.

He pounced on the opportunity to continue
while he could. “I am taking you out of here, one way or another.
It’s your choice whether it’s by force or on your own. Something’s
not right. My gut is screaming at me to get out of here, and it’s
never steered me wrong.” Fury almost choked him. “I couldn’t take
it if something happened to you.”

Max tempered his anger long enough to realize
his slip.

A small laugh escaped her and sent a hot
thrill straight to his groin.

“You like me.” She pressed her body flush
against his and trailed her fingertips across the top of his
head.

“Yeah.” He fought his desire to grind himself
against her.
Do. Not. Move.

Cameron tried to throttle the dizzying
current that raced through her. His nearness overwhelmed her and
electrified the air around them. Dodging the charged ions in the
air, she inhaled deeply to steady her trembling nerves. Big
mistake. His clean, musky scent clobbered her over the head and
lured her into a drug-induced haze.

“Calvin Klein?” She moved her hands to rest
her palms on his broad, sturdy shoulders.

He nodded, obviously trapped in the same
haze. She took full advantage.

“Fifteen minutes.”

“No.”

Undeterred by his quick disagreement, she
flicked the diamond stud in his ear with one fingernail. “I thought
you didn’t wear this while you work.”

She saw a muscle twitch at the base of his
jaw. Maybe he didn’t consider this work. When he didn’t answer, she
tried again.

“Just give me fifteen minutes, then I promise
we’ll leave.”

“No.”

She shook her head and stepped from his
warmth, snapping the delicate thread of desire between them.

“Max, be reasonable. You’ve checked the whole
house, twice, and you’re here with me.”

She waited for his argument. Something about
how unreasonable it had been to come here in the first place.
Instead, he cocked his head to the side.

“Why are you so damn persistent?”

“I don’t like to leave a job undone.” Was
that good enough?

“He’s not even here.”

“I don’t need him anyway. I can make my
sketches and talk to him later.”

He folded his arms across his chest as if
preparing to negotiate a major deal. A negotiation that would most
likely benefit only one of them: Max.

Knowing full well she couldn’t argue her way
out of his decision, she did the next best thing. Cheat. She bent
over to loosen the buckle on one ankle strap of her sandal and
granted him a bird’s eye view down her blouse in the process.

She lifted her head and winked. “Please?”

An expression between satisfaction and pain
crossed his face before he bent to retrieve the pencil from the
floor.

“Fifteen minutes.” He shook the pencil in her
face. “Do not leave the house.”

She snatched the pencil from him. “Why would
I–“

”Fourteen minutes, fifty seven seconds,” he
spat as he marched to the front door. “I’m going outside to secure
the perimeter.”

The house shook and the windows rattled as
Max slammed the door behind him.

She giggled. What a sore loser. Secure the
perimeter. Like the enemy was closing in. She rubbed a hand across
her forehead, disconcerted by the comfort his dominance provided.
She crammed that feeling way to the back of her emotional filing
cabinet. The enemy was closer than she thought.

Steering her mind back to business, Cameron
grabbed her sketchbook. The master bedroom was usually a major
focal point for most men. She’d start there.

She stood in place for a moment, shifted from
sandal to sandal, and strained to hear some sort of signal that Max
was really still outside. A bird chirped a few notes. Silence. Then
another chirp. She giggled. Super SEAL was probably sending her
some sort of code.

So, move already.

With one last look around the living room,
Cameron walked to a small hallway and then toward the master
bedroom. Once she stepped into the large suite, her creativity
overtook her hesitance. Her pencil took on a mind of its own and
soon the drawing sucked her from reality.

Muffled footsteps from the hallway brought
her out of her haze moments later. She glanced at her watch.
Intending to bargain with Max for five more minutes, she closed her
sketchbook and prepared to face him.

A chill climbed every single one of her
vertebrae just before a hand clamped over her mouth and an arm
pinned her arms to her sides. Her sketchbook and pencil fell to the
floor with a thud as her assailant drug her across the bedroom.

Cameron opened her mouth and screamed,
realizing too late it was fruitless. The hand over her mouth
allowed only a muffled sound to escape, but she figured it was
worth a try. Her heels slid across the waxed floor as she squirmed
and desperately tried to get them underneath her. Finally, somehow
by the grace of God and a knot in the floor, she managed to gain
her footing. Without hesitation, she planted one spiked heel into
the knot and the other into her attacker’s foot.

Take that, jerk.

He gave a feral growl and loosened the clamp
on her mouth. Now able to move her lips, Cameron closed her teeth
on his middle finger. In the next second, she literally flew into
the closet. She heard the door slam just as her head bounced off
the inner wall.