Another Side Of Midnight

Only a human being casts that large a shadow.

Had my creepy caller decided to show up in person? My heart tap-danced in my chest. My arms and legs began to tremble. Anxiety burned in my gut. Treading slowly beneath the surface, I felt like an idiot for staying underwater and I couldn’t stay under much longer—I was running out of air.

To hell with it. If I was going to die, it wouldn’t be from drowning. I leaped up, dragging breath into my lungs and loose hairs off my face. I swiped the water from my eyes so I could identify my assailant—

One totally aggravating Scotsman.

He squatted down, offering his hand to pull me out. I ignored it and headed for the ladder. Stone followed me to the top end of the pool and waited. I couldn’t believe this. I don’t see the guy for almost three months, then suddenly he shows up twice in one day. I climbed out and stood facing him, amazed that any water dripped onto the patio. It should have evaporated right off my skin.

“What the hell are you doing at my house?”

“Here’s a fine welcome, then.” His blue eyes slowly roamed my body with exacting attention to detail.

I fought the urge to squirm. My body remembered the way his hands had once followed the path his eyes now traveled. It took a lot of willpower for me not to put out signs saying, Thank You For Visiting. Please Come Again.

Then his mouth widened into a mischievous grin as he admired my chest. I glanced down. The transparent nature of my white cotton swimsuit was my undoing. Guess those signs were visible after all. I raised my chin and met Stone’s gaze head-on. Let him look; it wasn’t like he’d never seen my breasts before. But damned if he’d get to touch.

That’s what I told myself. Repeatedly. However, the soft light of evening emphasized his golden good looks and I could feel his innate sensuality drawing me like a lodestone. Standing half-naked and yearning before him, he had me at a disadvantage. But, as much as my mind protested, my body didn’t seem to mind at all.

CHAPTER TEN

Wet and Out of Breath

CAMERON SAW THE DESIRE beneath her anger and knew he had only to reach for her. If he drew his fingers along the slick-wet surface of her skin she would heat to his touch. He smiled. In half a moment he’d have her in his arms and out of that bit of a bikini. Stella knew it as well.

Which was precisely why he kept his hands at his sides. They’d come together so damned fast before, and though the red-hot impulses were obviously still present, he intended to proceed with caution this time.

“I asked what you’re doing here.” She swept past him, snatching up a towel from a pile on one of the chairs.

“You called me. I came.”

Stella sent him an odd look, a brief furrowing of her brow, then her mouth thinned in disbelief. “So, that’s how it works. Wish I’d known sooner.”

“From now on—”

“I left a message, Stone, not an invitation.” She turned her back to him and picked up the water bottle from the table.

“You left part of a message.” He tipped his head, correcting her. “I’ll need the rest of it, since we’re going to work together.”

“I never said I’d partner with you.” She set the water down with a bang.

“I don’t recall hearing you refuse, either.”

Her nostrils flared in a way that shouldn’t have been sexy, but was. She glared at him in silence. He could almost hear the synapses firing as she struggled between accepting his offer and throwing him out on his arse. He knew his backside was safe when she rolled her shoulders in a kind of shrug.

“Wait here while I change.”

“Don’t bother on my account. I rather prefer you wet and out of breath.”

He only just managed to keep a grin from his face as spots of color appeared on her cheeks. When he dropped his gaze, he noticed the very feminine, pale pink lacquer on her toes. He looked up to see Stella glaring at him, daring him to comment. She stalked toward him and he quite wisely stepped aside. The French door slammed behind her, rattling the glass.

Cameron bent over to rub the ache in his right knee. Hurtling the low brick wall into her back garden had set it to throbbing. Straightening, he helped himself to her water and glanced at the door. It would be much more pleasant inside. He stepped through to the living room.

Only it didn’t look as if she did much living in it. There was a single ratty armchair with a wee folding table beside it, near the fireplace. A few cheap bookcases filled with videos and DVDs stood next to a large-screen plasma telly that sat directly on the floor.

He took the four stairs past a decorative rail to the next level. Peering about, Cameron noted that while the open kitchen boasted professional-looking cookware hanging from a copper rack and an impressive display of food-prep gadgets on the counters, there was no table in the dining area.

Eating alone, was she? Or simply eating elsewhere?

As he set the empty water bottle on the counter, he frowned at the butcher’s block. It held an expensive-looking chef’s knife set. He lifted one from its slot, hefting the weight of the professional carbon steel blade, then slid it back in place. All of the slots along the bottom row were empty. Odd, that.

He wandered into the bare foyer, listening for Stella, then moved along the hallway. The first room on the right was her bedroom, had to be. A queen-size mattress stood against one white wall with a plain wooden night table at the left-hand side; a single dresser sat near the closet. A quick glance into the lav revealed a lone toothbrush in the holder.

It would appear she slept alone as well. Cameron smiled briefly. Even as he acknowledged a sense of relief, he recognized that Stella’s life seemed to be as empty as his own. All the more reason they should give their relationship a try.

He moved toward the armoire, his curiosity piqued by the glass orbs and picture frames arranged on top. They were the only personal touches he’d seen in the house so far.

A black-and-white photo showed an attractive couple— must be her mum and dad—standing at a bar with Frank Sinatra. The second picture was of Stella with two other girls, a redhead and a brunette, on a beach somewhere. The third showed her standing in front of her office beside a brassy looking older woman, however the sign read Diamond Detective Agency.

The last photograph intrigued him enough that he picked it up for a closer look.

Stella posed up front, clutching an American football, with her three brothers standing round her. She looked quite disheveled, young and carefree and grinning like mad. The younger two lads looked annoyed and mischievous while the oldest’s eyes were focused on something other than the camera. His halfhearted smile failed to mask the aggressive intensity of his gaze. The photo must have been taken before.

“Give me that.”

Stella reached for the photo and tore it from his grasp. Her attitude up ‘til now had been prickly. At the moment she seemed genuinely furious…or was she merely defensive? As she set it back on the armoire, he caught a flash of sadness in her eyes before she turned on him.

“You don’t follow directions worth a damn.”

“Never have done, actually. It’s saved my life a time or two.” He wasn’t supposed to know about her brother and so kept his sympathy to himself.

She shoved at his upper back, pushing him toward the door. “It won’t save you from me if I catch you in here again.”

He swept his gaze over the snug jeans and damp cotton top she’d put on and grinned. “I promise not to go near your bed without a proper invite.”

“Don’t hold your breath.” As they approached the foyer, she thrust a sheet of paper at him. “Here. This is Cavanaugh’s work schedule for the next couple of days. He’s got the graveyard shift tonight, the same tomorrow and Wednesday.”

“Thanks.” He folded the note and tucked it into his hip pocket. “Nice place you’ve got. Bit sparse on furnishings, though, eh?”

“I don’t want you to feel welcome.”

The look on her face was dead serious. He hadn’t expected her to forgive and forget after the way they’d parted, but the fact of the matter was he’d come back for her. And if that meant a proper courtship, so be it. He sighed and slid his hands over her waist, gently tugging her toward him.

She tensed, resisting his touch, but didn’t struggle away. She challenged him with her gaze, rejection darkening her eyes. And yet he saw the flush of color on her cheeks, felt the sudden catch of her breath. Stella had a tough shell but underneath, he knew, was a molten core.

Not that she was soft, far from it. She’d like as not thump him for saying so. It wouldn’t be easy to win her over, but he’d have a go at it all the same. She was more than worth the having.

He reached up to free her hair and then stroked his fingers along the side of her neck. “I’m no damned good at this, Stella. But, I’m willing to try. Now that I’ve returned, I want to pick up where we left off.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Simply Irresistible

WE’D LEFT OFF IN BED, naked and insatiable for each other.

I didn’t want to pick up from there. I wanted to back up several steps, both figuratively and literally. Things were moving too fast again. But I stayed where I was, even grasped his biceps, enjoying the feel of hard muscle and hot skin under my hands.

When Stone dragged his right thumb across my lower lip, I gasped, barely resisting the urge to take it into my mouth. Faint lines of amusement bracketed his eyes, though his expression remained predatory. He looked like a man who wanted a woman and knew he could have her.

I bit his thumb.

He chuckled but wisely moved his hand. “You’re a fiery woman, Stella. Wicked sweet. And damned if I’ve not missed the feel of you.”

My pulse fluttered as his big hands slid down my hips to glide over my butt, pulling me closer to the erection testing the zipper of his jeans. As they flattened against his chest, my breasts ached with a need echoed in my womb. His heat seeped into me, warming me in too many places.

Closing my eyes, I inhaled the faint citrus smell of his hair and the purely male scent of his skin. My hands caressed the taut muscle beneath his shirt. I rubbed up against him like a cat in heat, while his hands seemed to touch me everywhere at once. It wasn’t enough.

Dark greedy desire permeated every fiber of my being. Yes, it was stupid, risky even, but I wanted him. It had been like this from the first moment we’d met. Something about him ignited my basest need for hot, wild sex. He slowly lowered his head and, eyes still shut to everything except the anticipation of the moment, I turned my face to meet his kiss.

Instead he nuzzled his soft lips against my temple and growled in my ear. “You’ve a way about you. Makes me want to strip you bare, to feel your heat and your passion. Remember how it was between us? Like capturing lightning in a bottle.”

I almost moaned aloud at the images replaying in my head. He’s got the kind of voice that lends itself to seduction, a blend of smoky resonance and rich brogue. It’s one of the reasons I’d fallen for him in the first place, one excuse for what happened…

“It will only be better this time, Stella.”

He lowered his head and I finally got that kiss. I’d braced myself for—hell, I’d counted on—a hot, urgent plundering that would fan the burning need inside of me and have us going at it on the foyer tiles. Instead, Cameron took me off guard, brushing his mouth slowly, oh-my slowly, over my lips.

The sweet thrill of his touch, combined with the spicy taste of him, seduced me. I could feel long unused parts gearing up for action but he resisted when I tried to take the lead. Although it’s so not my personality, I sat back to enjoy the ride.

Slanting his mouth over mine, he enjoyed my lips as though they were something precious, cradling the back of my head with unexpected and unwarranted tenderness. Which thoroughly confused me. I raised my palm to his chest and pulled back, then realized that placing my hand over his heart was a mistake. The strong, steady beat was a false promise of durability and commitment.

Stone didn’t relinquish his hold on me. “Let me have you, Stella. Let me make you my own.”

That did it. I broke free, staring at the floor while I tried to collect myself, and instantly missed the feel of him. If I were honest, I might admit that I’ve missed him all along. But I’d eat the engine out of my Harley before I told him so. The last man who’d attempted to possess me, make me his, hadn’t lived to regret it.

“I did that once, but didn’t care for it.” I’m a pretty good mimic, so I got the accent down cold, but my voice wasn’t bass enough for a perfect imitation. Stone recognized his own words anyhow.

“Is it over, then?” His tone was colored with as much defiance as disbelief.

Stone’s personality was magnetic, hypnotic, overwhelming. I didn’t want to be his, not at the risk of getting lost in his shadow. My gaze settled on his left arm. The short sleeve of his T-shirt revealed the tattoo on his triceps. The winged dagger with Who Dares Wins etched below it said a lot—and reminded me how little I really knew about him.

“Let’s be honest, Stone. It never really began.”

Finally I looked up at his face. I’ve seen photographs of glaciers in Alaska, formed by weight and weather and time until the core turns a bright, frozen blue. Stone’s eyes are that color. I wanted to look away but wouldn’t allow myself the cowardice. “We’re strangers who shared an incredible night once, who now have to work together temporarily, and that’s all.”

His gaze narrowed, hitting me like twin blue laser beams, cutting through the surface bullshit to the core I’m so damned careful to protect. His expression challenged me, dared me, invited me to open up and make something real of whatever game we were playing.

Suddenly I was almost overcome with the need to lean on him, to curl myself against his big body and take comfort from his warmth and strength. But I killed the thought as soon as it emerged. I’ve worked hard to shut myself off, to not need anyone and to take the hits alone so that no one ever paid for my mistakes again.

I looked away, reaching for the front door and yanking it wide to usher him out. He hesitated for a second then moved resolutely forward, brushing against me as he passed. Suddenly, he whipped around. His arm shot out and before I knew it he’d plastered me to his side. There was no tenderness in this kiss, just the silent insistence that it was a beginning, not the end.

He let go just as abruptly then turned away. He swaggered down the driveway without once looking back. I stood watching him go, dazed, until I realized my fingertips were tracing my mouth. Annoyed with both of us, I slammed the door and headed for the kitchen.

As I chose a shot glass from the cabinet and pulled the vodka out of the freezer, I wondered what the hell I was doing. I’d made a mistake with Stone. But which one had it been? Letting him get close, letting him matter or pushing him away?

Probably all of the above.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.