Scandalous Sins: Unwrapping His Convenient Fiancée / The Sheikh's Pregnant Prisoner / Snowbound with His Innocent Temptation

‘I know.’

Once the locksmith had finished and Mr Yates had shuffled back to his flat, Cam led Violet back out to his car with a small collection of her belongings to see her through for a few days. Not that she could bring much as most of it had been thrown about the flat. The thought of putting on clothes that some stranger had touched would be horrifying for her. It was horrifying to him.

He glanced at her once they were on their way. She was sitting with a hunched posture, her fingers plucking at her evening bag, her face white and pinched. ‘How are you doing?’

‘I don’t know how to thank you...’ She gave a little hiccupping sound as if she was fighting back a sob. ‘You’ve been so amazing tonight. I really don’t know what I would’ve done without you.’

Cam reached for her hand and placed it on top of his thigh. ‘That’s what friends—or rather, fake fiancés—are for.’ His attempt at humour didn’t quite hit the mark. Her teeth sank into her lower lip so hard he was worried she would puncture the skin. She looked so tiny and vulnerable it made his chest sting. It made him think of how she must have been after that wretched party—alone, terrified, shocked, with no one she felt she could turn to. If only he had known. If only he had been there that night, he could have done something to protect her. Violet was the sort of girl who made him want to rush off for a white horse and a suit of armour. Her trust in him made him feel...conflicted, truth be told.

He wanted to protect her, sure, but he wanted her, period. Which was a whole lot of capital T trouble he could do without right now. Bringing her home with him was the right thing to do. Of course it was. Sure, he could have set her up in a hotel but he sensed she needed company. Her parents were too far away in Scotland to get to her in a hurry, so too were her brother and sisters, who lived in various parts of the country.

Cam was on knight duty so it was up to him to hold her hand.

As long as that’s all you hold.

* * *

Violet had held off tears only because Cam had done everything that needed to be done. He’d taken charge in a way that made her feel supported and safe. The horror of finding all her possessions strewn around the flat had been such a shock. She felt so violated. Someone—more than one someone, it seemed—had broken in and rifled through her and her roommates’ things. They had seen her photo with the girls at Stef’s last birthday celebration stuck on the kitchen door, which meant she might one day pass them in the street and they would know who she was but she would have no idea who they were. It was like being back on the university campus after that party. She didn’t know who the enemy was. They had touched her clothing, her underwear. Invaded her private sanctuary and now it was defiled, just as her body had been defiled all those years ago.

Cam kept glancing at her and gently squeezing and stroking her hand. It was enormously comforting. Violet could see the concern, and the anger he was doing his best to suppress on her behalf. Was he thinking of what might have happened if she’d been in that flat alone? She was thinking about it and it was terrifying. How fortunate that he had walked her to the door. But then, of course he would do that. It was the type of man he was. Strong, capable, with old-fashioned values that resonated with hers.

His offer to have her stay with him at his house was perfectly reasonable given their friendship and yet...she wondered if he was entirely comfortable with it. Would it make it harder for him to keep things platonic between them?

Once they were back at his house, Cam carried her small bag of belongings—those she could stomach enough to bring with her—to one of the spare bedrooms. But at least her embroidery basket had been left intact. She was halfway through making a baby blanket for Lily’s unborn baby and couldn’t bear the thought of anyone destroying that.

‘I’m only a door away over there.’ Cam pointed to the master bedroom on the other side of the wide hallway. ‘I’ll leave my door open in case you need me during the night.’

I need you now.

‘Thanks...for everything.’

He gave her one of those lopsided smiles of his that made her heart contract. ‘You’re welcome.’

Violet shifted her weight. ‘Do you mind if I have a hot drink? I’m not sure I’m going to be able to sleep. Maybe a hot milk or something will help.’

‘Of course.’

Violet followed him back down to the spacious kitchen and perched on one of the breakfast-bar stools while he went about preparing a hot chocolate for both of them. It was a strange feeling to be alone with him in his house, knowing she would be sleeping in one of his beds. Not his bed. He’d made that inordinately clear. But the possibility he could change his mind made her feel a thrill of excitement like someone had injected champagne bubbles into her bloodstream. She couldn’t stop looking at his hands, couldn’t stop imagining how they would feel touching her, stroking her. He had broad hands with long fingers with neat square nails. Capable hands. Careful hands. Hands that healed instead of hurt. Every time he touched her she felt her body glow with warmth. It was like she was coming out of cold storage. His touch awakened the sensuality that had been frozen by fear all those years ago.

He slid the hot chocolate towards her with a spoon and the sugar bowl. ‘There you go.’

Violet took a restorative sip and observed him while he stirred his chocolate. He still had a two-fold crease between his eyes as if his mind was still back at her flat thinking up a whole lot of nasty scenarios, similar to the ones she was trying her best not to think about. ‘I’ll only stay tonight,’ she said into the silence. ‘Once the girls and I tidy up, I’ll go back.’

His frown wasn’t letting up any. ‘Is that such a good idea? What if you get broken into again? The security there is crap. You don’t even have a security chain on the door. Your landlord should be ashamed of himself.’

‘It’s actually a woman.’

‘Same goes.’

Violet cradled her drink between her hands, looking at him over the rim of her cup when she took another sip. He had abandoned his drink as if his mind was too preoccupied. There were lines of tension running down either side of his mouth. ‘I know this must be awkward for you...having me here...’ she said. ‘You know, after our conversation earlier about...only kissing.’

His gaze went to her mouth as if he couldn’t help himself. ‘It’s not awkward.’ His voice came out so husky it sounded like it had been dragged along a rough surface.

‘I could go to a hotel or stay with a—’

‘No.’ The word was delivered with such implacability it made Violet blink. ‘You’ll stay here as long as you need to.’

How about for the rest of my life? Violet took another sip of her chocolate before setting the mug down. She had to stop this ridiculous habit of imagining a future with him. She was being a silly romantic fool, conjuring up a happy ending because she was almost thirty and Cam was the first man to treat her the way she’d always longed to be treated. It was her hormones...or something. ‘I guess it kind of makes sense, me being here, since we’re supposed to be engaged.’

‘Yes, well, there’s that, of course.’

Violet slipped off the stool and took her mug over to the sink, rinsing it first before putting it in the dishwasher. She turned and found Cam looking at her with a frowning expression. ‘I’m...erm...going to bed now,’ she said. ‘Thanks again for everything.’

He gave her a semblance of a smile that softened the frown a smidgen. ‘No problem. Hope you can get some sleep.’

Violet was about to turn for the door when, on an impulse she couldn’t explain let alone stop, she stepped up to where Cam was standing and, rising on tiptoe, pressed a soft kiss to his stubble-roughened cheek. His hands went to her hips as if he too couldn’t stop himself, drawing her that little bit closer so her body was flush against his. His eyes searched hers for a long moment before dipping to her mouth. ‘We really shouldn’t be doing this, Violet. It only makes things more—’

‘More what?’ Violet said, pressing herself closer, feeling the hardened ridge of him against her belly. ‘Exciting?’

His hands tightened on her hips but, instead of drawing her closer, he put her from him, dropping his hold as if her body was scorching hot. His frown was severe but she got the feeling it was directed more at himself than at her.

‘You’re upset after the break-in,’ he said. ‘Your emotions are shot to pieces. It would be wrong of me to take advantage of you when you’re feeling so vulnerable.’

Take advantage! Take advantage! Violet knew he was being the sensible and considerate man she knew him to be, but the fledging flirt in her felt hurt by his rejection. Why shouldn’t they have a fling? It was the perfect chance for her to let go of her past and explore her sensuality without shame, without fear, with a man she not only trusted but admired and cared about. Why couldn’t he see how much she needed him to help wipe away the past? ‘I’m sorry for misreading the signals. Of course you wouldn’t want to sleep with me. No one wants to sleep with me unless I’m coma-drunk. Why am I so hopeless at this?’

Cam took her by the shoulders this time, locking his gaze on hers. ‘You’re not hopeless at anything, sweetheart. You’re a beautiful and talented young woman who deserves to be happy. I’m trying for damage control here. If we take this further, it will blur the boundaries. For both of us.’

Violet planted her hands on his chest, feeling the thud-pitty-thud-pitty-thud of his heart beneath her palm. The battle was played out on his features: the push of pulsating desire and the pull away of his sense of duty. Push. Pull. Push. Pull. It was mirrored in the rhythm of a muscle flicking in his jaw. ‘But you want me...don’t you?’ she said.

He brought her up against his body, pelvis to pelvis, his eyes holding hers. ‘I want you, but—’

‘Let’s leave the “but” out of it,’ Violet said. ‘If I were anyone else, you’d have a fling with me, wouldn’t you?’

He let out a short breath. ‘You’re not a fling type of girl so—’

‘But what if I was? What if I wanted to have a fling with you because I’m so darn tired of being the girl without a date, the girl who hasn’t had proper consensual sex? I’m sick of being that girl, Cam. I’m turning thirty in January. I want to find the courage to embrace my sexuality and who better with than you? Someone I trust and feel safe with.’

It was clear she had created a dilemma for him. His expression was a picture of conflict. His hands tightened on the tops of her shoulders, as if torn between wanting to bring her closer and pushing her away. ‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ he said. ‘That’s the last thing I want.’

‘How will you hurt me?’ Violet asked. ‘I’m not asking you to commit to anything permanent. I know that’s not what you want and I’m fine with that.’ Not exactly true, but still. ‘We can have a fling for as long as our pretend engagement lasts. It will make it appear more authentic.’

He cupped her face with the broad span of his hand while his thumb stroked back and forth on her cheek. ‘Looks like you’ve thought all of this through.’

‘I have and it’s what I want. It’s what you want too, isn’t it?’

His frown hadn’t gone away but was pulling his brow into deep vertical lines between his eyes. ‘What about your family?’

‘What about them?’ Violet said. ‘They already think we’re...together. Why shouldn’t we therefore actually be together?’

‘There’s something a little off with your logic but I’m not sure what it is.’

‘What’s logical about lust?’

His frown was back. ‘Is that all this is?’

‘Of course.’ Violet suspected she might have answered a little too quickly. ‘I love you but I’m not in love with you.’

His eyes did that back and forth thing that made her feel as if he was looking for the truth behind the screen of her gaze. ‘The thing is...good sex can make people fall in love with each other.’

Violet cocked her head. ‘So, I’m presuming you’ve had plenty of good sex. Have you ever fallen in love?’

‘No, but that doesn’t—’

‘Then what makes you think you will this time?’

He blinked as if he was confused about her line of argument. ‘I’m not worried about me falling in love, I’m worried about you.’

Violet raised her brows. ‘What makes you think you’ll be immune to falling in love?’

He opened and closed his mouth, seemingly lost for an answer. ‘Sex for me is a physical thing. I never allow my emotions to become involved.’

‘Sounds like heaps of fun, just getting it on with someone’s body without connecting with them on any other level.’

His brows snapped together and he dropped his hands from her hips. ‘Damn it. It’s not like that. At least I know their names and make sure they’ve given full and proper consent and are conscious.’

Violet wasn’t going to apologise for her straight talking. In her opinion he was short-changing himself if he stuck to relationships that were based on mutual lust and nothing else. What about sharing someone’s life with them? What about growing old together? What about being fully present in a relationship that made you grow as a person?

All the things she wished for but hadn’t so far been able to find.

‘You remind me of Fraser before he met Zoe. He was always saying he’d never fall in love. Look what happened to him. A chance meeting with Zoe and now he’s married with twins and he couldn’t be happier.’

Cam blew out a frustrated-sounding breath. ‘It’s different for your brother. He’s had the great example your parents have set. He’s had that since he was a baby—all of you have. I had a completely different example, one I wouldn’t wish on a partner and certainly not on any children.’

Violet studied his tense expression, his even more rigidly set body and the way his eyes glittered with bitterness. And the way he had put some distance between their bodies as if he didn’t trust himself not to reach for her. ‘What exactly happened between your parents that you’re so against marriage?’

It was a moment or two before he spoke. ‘They only got married because my mother got pregnant with me. They were pressured into it by both of their families, although to be fair my mother was in love with my father, but unfortunately he didn’t feel the same. It was a disaster from the word go. The earliest memories I have are of my parents fighting. They’re the only memories I have, really.’

‘But that doesn’t mean you’d conduct a relationship like that,’ Violet said. ‘You’re not that type of person.’

He gave a short laugh that had a note of cynicism to it. ‘Thanks for the character reference but it won’t be needed. I’m fine with how my life is now. I don’t have to check in with anyone. I’m free to do what I want, when I want, with whomever I want.’

‘As long as they’re not married to your richest client or are your best friend’s kid sister,’ Violet said with a pointed look.

He pressed his lips together as if checking a retort. ‘Violet...’

‘It’s fine.’ Violet turned away with an airy wave of one hand. ‘I get the message. You don’t want to complicate things by sleeping with me. I’m not going to beg. I’ll find someone else. After our engagement is over, of course.’

It was a great exit line.

And it would have been even better if she hadn’t stumbled over the rug on her way out.

CHAPTER FIVE

CAM SWORE AND raked his hand through his hair until he thought he’d draw blood. Or make himself bald. What was he doing even thinking of taking her up on her offer of a fling? Violet was the last girl he should be thinking about. Tempted by. Lusting over. She was so innocent. So vulnerable. So adorable.

Yes, adorable, which was why he had to be sensible about this. She wasn’t someone he could walk away from once the fling was over and never see or think of again. He would see her every time he was at a Drummond family gathering. He could avoid them, of course, but that would be punishing her family as well as himself.

Not that he didn’t deserve to be punished for dragging her into this farce. If he hadn’t asked her to that wretched dinner, none of this would have happened.

But if the dinner and the Christmas party tomorrow night weren’t bad enough, now he had her under his roof in one of the spare bedrooms. Now he would spend the night, or however many nights she would be here, in a heightened state of arousal. Forget about cold showers, he would have to pump in water from the North Sea to deal with this level of attraction.

What was wrong with him?

Where was his self-control?

Why had he kissed her? That had been his first mistake. The second was to keep touching her. But he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off her. As soon as she came within touching distance, he was at it again.

He had to stop thinking about making love to her. Stop picturing it. Stop aching for it. Just stop.

But truth was it was all Cam had been thinking about since running into Violet at that café. Which was damned annoying, as he’d never seen her that way before last Easter. For years she’d been one of the Drummond girls, just like Rose and Lily—a sister to him in every way other than blood. But it had all changed that last time he’d visited Drummond Brae. He could sense the exact moment when she turned her gaze on him. His body picked up her presence like a radar signal. His stomach rolled over and begged when she smiled at him. His skin tingled if she so much as brushed past him in a doorway. When his knees bumped hers under the table in the café he’d felt the shockwave travel all the way to his groin.

Even though she was safely in the spare room, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. Her neat little ballerina-like figure, gorgeous brown eyes the colour of caramel, wavy chestnut hair that always smelled of flowers, a mouth that was shaped in a perfect Cupid’s bow that drew his gaze more than he wanted it to. He had fantasies about that mouth. X-rated fantasies. Fantasies he shouldn’t be having because she was like a sister to him.

Like hell she is.

Was that why he’d offered to bring her back here? Had some dark corner of his subconscious leapt at the opportunity to have her under his roof so he could take things to the next level? The level Violet wanted? The level that would change everything between them? Permanently. Irrevocably. How would he ever look at her in the future and not remember how her mouth felt under his? He was having enough trouble now getting it out of his mind. He could think of nothing else but how her mouth responded to his. How her lips had been as soft as down, her tongue both playful and shy. How her body felt when she’d brushed up against him. How her dainty little curves made him want to crush her to him so he could ease this relentless ache of need. How he wanted to explore every inch of her body and claim it, nurture it, release it from its prison of fear.

But how could he do that, knowing she had so much more invested in their relationship? She was after the fairytale he was avoiding because loving someone to that degree had the potential to ruin lives. If—and it was a big if—he ever settled down with a partner, he would go for a companionable relationship that was based on similar interests rather than the fickleness of love that could fade after its first flush of heat. His mother had paid the price—was still paying it—for loving without caution. It hadn’t just ruined her life but that of several others along the way, as well. He didn’t want that sort of emotional carnage. He already had feelings for Violet. Feelings that could slip into the danger zone if he wasn’t careful. Having her here under his roof was only intensifying those feelings. The thought of her being only a few doors away was a form of torture. Making love with Violet would be exactly that: making love. Encouraging love, feeding love, nurturing it to grow and blossom. Sex was easy to deal with if he kept his feelings out of it. But having sex with Violet would be all about feelings. Emotions. Bonding. Commitment. All the things he shied away from because they had the potential to disrupt the neat and controlled order of his life.

He had to be strong. Determined. Resolute. Violet was looking for someone to give her heart to. She was vulnerable and it would be wrong of him to give her the impression an affair between them could go anywhere.

Why couldn’t it?

Cam slapped the thought away like he was swatting away a fly. But it kept coming back, buzzing around the edges of his resolve, making him think of how it would be day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year with Violet in his life. Having her not just as a temporary houseguest but as a permanent partner. He wasn’t so cynical that he couldn’t see the benefits of a long-term marriage. He had only to look at Violet’s parents to see how well a good marriage could work.

But how could he guarantee his would work? There were no guarantees, which was what scared him the most.

* * *

Violet didn’t expect to sleep after the evening’s disturbance. She thought she’d have nightmares about her flat being invaded but the only dreams she had were of Cam kissing her, touching her, making her feel things she’d never expected to feel. With time to reflect on it, she understood his caution about getting involved with her sexually. Of course it would be a risk. It would change everything about their relationship. Every single dynamic would be altered. You couldn’t undo something like that. Every time she saw him at family gatherings in the future it would be there between them—their sensual history. He had only kissed her and held her and yet she was going to have a task ahead of her to forget about it. It was like his touch had seeped through every pore of her skin, tunnelling its way into her body so deep she instinctively knew she would never feel like that with anyone else. How could she? His touch was like a code breaker to her frozen sensuality. It unlocked the primal urges she had hidden away out of shame. He’d awoken those sleeping urges and now they were jumping up and down in her body like hyperactive kids on a trampoline.

Violet threw off the bedcovers and showered but when she looked at her overnight bag of belongings she’d hastily packed last night she knew she could never bring herself to touch them, let alone wear them. How could she know for sure if the intruders had touched them? What if she wore them and then out on the street the burglars recognised them as the ones they had rifled through last night? She had only the clothes she’d been wearing for the dinner last night. She didn’t fancy putting them on again after her shower and, besides, the velvet cocktail dress was hardly Saturday morning wear. It was way too dressed up. If she went out in that get-up, she would look like she had been out all night. She rinsed out her knickers and dried them with the hairdryer she found in one of the drawers in the bathroom. There was a plush bathrobe hanging on the back of the bathroom door so she slipped it on over her underwear.

Cam was in the kitchen pouring cereal into a bowl when she came in. He looked up and Violet saw the way his eyes automatically scanned her body as if he was imagining what she looked like underneath the bathrobe. He cleared his throat and turned back to his cereal, making rather a business of sealing the inside packet and folding down the flaps on top of the box. ‘Sleep okay?’

‘Not bad...’

He took a spoon out of one of the drawers and then turned and opened the fridge for the milk. Violet drank in the image of him dressed in dark blue jeans and a black finely woven cashmere sweater with a white T-shirt underneath. There should be a law against a man looking so good in casual clothes. The denim hugged his trim and toned buttocks; the close-fitting sweater showcased the superb musculature of his upper body. His hair was still damp from a shower and it looked like his fingers had been its most recent combing tool, for she could see the finger-spaced grooves between the dark brown strands.