Causing Havoc (25 page)

"Oh, yeah." She laid both hands on Gregor's bare, broad chest, doing her best to ignore the

sleekness of his skin, the rock solid muscle with no give at al , the touch of crisp hair. She drew a

stuttering breath.

And shoved.

Gregor shouted a surprised curse, but he couldn't stop the momentum. Arms and legs flailing in the

air, he hit the icy water with an awesome splash.

Jacki heard her sister's laugh, Eve's gasp, and Dean's muttered, "Uh oh."

When Gregor emerged, he used both hands to shove his shaggy dark hair away from his face. His

lashes, now clumped together by the water, looked longer and thicker than ever.

Fighting off a chuckle, Jacki knelt by the edge of the pool and said in a sweet voice, "Al better now?"

He wore a reciprocating grin. "Paybacks are hel , darlin'. And I always get even."

For the first time in a long while, Jacki felt lighthearted and carefree enough to indulge in a real

laugh. "'You deserved it for cal ing me a twit."

He tread water in the middle of the pool. "Is that what did it?"

"Yes. As for everything else you said.. ." Jacki hesitated, but what the hel ? She liked Gregor. A lot.

So why did she suddenly feel shy, when everyone knew she didn't have a shy bone in her body?

"I'm waitin'," Gregor told her.

Jacki decided to go for it. "How about a movie tonight, after you finish working with Dean?"

Expression intent and fil ed with confidence, Gregor stroked his way toward her, reached the ledge,

and held out a hand. "Deal."

Knowing exactly what he'd do, Jacki backed away. "Oh, no you don't." She grinned. "Our agreement wil have to be a verbal one."

"Chicken," he taunted.

She didn't take the bait. "I'm not a fool, Gregor, and I' m not swimming until I've put on my suit."

"So put it on."

Jacki backed up another step. In her suit, it'd be more apparent than ever how few assets she had

to offer.

Gregor watched her and mistook her hesitation. "Should I say please?"

"I'l swim with you another time—once you show me that you can behave."

He laughed, but the laughter stopped short as Jacki turned her back on him and strode away with a

little extra swish in her stride.

She heard another splash and looked back to see Gregor had submerged himself again. Things

were looking up. She had a job. She had the interest of a supreme hunk.

Now if only she could figure a way to keep the house.

* * *

up to the curb in front of Cam's home and put the car in park. He saw the new Sebring and the sporty

Mustang and felt bone-deep satisfaction at his silver SL55 AMG Mercedes-Benz.

Growing up poor, in and out of foster homes, had made him very aware of appearances. These

days he reeked of success in every way.

Yet it wasn't enough. It would never be enough until he got everything he wanted, everything he damn

wel deserved.

In the worst ways imaginable, he'd been wronged. Yet the guilty people had never suffered the

blame. They'd never taken accountability.

And that burned like acid inside him.

Because Cam hadn't suffered the same hardships as him, she wasn't into material things. But surely

she would appreciate the difference in what he drove compared to what most men considered

adequate transportation.

"Wil you look at that," Lorna snapped. "Now that boy is up on the roof, doing work that shouldn't be done. And half-naked. He's a complete embarrassment. How am I supposed to explain him?"

Her complaints drew Roger's attention away from the cars to the top of the house. Sure enough,

Dean stood there shirtless, sweating, bruised from one end to the other but not letting it slow him

down.

"'You should have told me about him sooner." If Dean and Eve hooked up, Dean might decide that

the town had enough to offer to be his home. If he stuck around long enough, he could ruin al of

Roger's plans.

That the bastard interfered with the house was hard enough to accept.

"I assumed Cam would tel you." Intentional y offensive, Lorna added, "For an engaged couple, you two aren't as close as I would hope."

Snippy bitch. But Roger wouldn't let her see how the observation cut him. "We're not official y

engaged yet, Lorna." As Roger watched, Dean hefted a pile of shingles that had to be over a hundred

pounds. Holding them as if they weighed nothing, he made his way to the edge of the roof and

dropped them off the front of the house to a large metal Dumpster below.

"When wil you get official y engaged, then?"

Roger had always prided himself on his strength and physique. After his footbal days had abruptly

ended, he hadn't gone to fat. He hadn't lost himself in a bottle or drowned in self-pity.

He'd proved himself to be an incredible businessman, making money hand over fist.

But compared to Dean's fighting fame, Roger's life, his every hard-earned success, seemed about

as exciting as watching fish swim.

And compared to Dean's capability .. . wel , there was no comparison. In a physical contest, the only

way Roger could defend himself against Cam's brother would be with a deadly weapon in hand.

"Roger?"

"I'm working on it," he snapped.

"Work harder," she snapped right back.

A second later, a towering shadow moved across the roof and another man came over the peak

and into view. His jeans rode low on muscled hips, showing off a sculpted six-pack. A bandana

around his forehead kept back longish black hair. Chest and shoulder muscles bulging, he toted his

own massive load of shingles to drop into the Dumpster.

Roger stared in near awe. "Who the hel is that genetic freak?"

"What? Where?" Lorna squinted at the roof. "Why, I have no idea." She dug in her purse for her eyeglasses, looked again, and her jowls dropped. "Good God."

She sounded genuinely appal ed.

"You don't recognize him?" he asked.

Wide-eyed and pale faced, Lorna said, "He's ... obscene." She continued to stare.

"Probably a fighter," Roger mused. And judging by his extraordinary size, likely a champion.

"I'm mortified. Absolutely shamed." Hand to her chest, Lorna rounded on Roger. "Going by the disreputable looks of him, he must be one of Dean's friends. But what could he be thinking to bring

that criminal here?"

"You don't know that he's a criminal."

"Wel he certainly looks like one!"

Roger considered that. The man was colossal and layered in solid muscles. He had an abundance

of tattoos. He looked mean. He looked hardened enough to chew off the old shingles.

He would certainly provide excel ent backup for Dean, damn it.

"Dear God, Roger. What if my neighbors see him up there on my roof, clomping al around?" Lorna

sounded on the verge of expiring. "You have to do something. You're Cam's fiance. Put a stop to this

nonsense right this instant."

Doing his best to hide his hatred, Roger studied Lorna. As his only al y in the Conor family, he

needed the old bitch.

But one of these days, hopeful y soon, her usefulness would reach an end.

Roger's eye ticked, showing his irritation if only Lorna weren't too self-absorbed to notice.

"Wel ?" A web of wrinkles showed on Lorna's upper lip when she curled it with venom. "Are you going to do something about this or not?"

"Yes." Roger glanced at the roof and the two men toiling there as if they owned the house. He

returned his gaze to Lorna. Very softly, he said, "I'l take care of it."

A flash of alarm widened Lorna's eyes. But in the next instant, they narrowed with impatience.

"Good. I think the first thing you should do is—"

Done discussing it with her, Roger opened his door and left the car. He wouldn't give Lorna a

chance to gril him for details on his plans. Let the old bag wonder at what he'd do. He didn't want her

digging deeper into his personal motivations.

The sky remained clear without a cloud in sight, so Roger didn't worry about putting up the top to his

Mercedes. He opened Lorna's door for her, then suffered her grip on his arm as they made their way

to the back of the house.

In numerous ways, he detected the intrusion of men to the Conor household.

Hard rock music from a CD player vied with the sounds of hammering, heavy boots, and the

occasional curse. The scent of gril ing meat drifted on the air.

At a nearby patio table, Jacki set out paper plates and plasticware onto a colorful tablecloth. Every

few seconds, she glanced at the roof and sighed. Or frowned.

Or just licked her lips.

By rote, Roger gave her long, lean body the once over. On a physical level, very little of Jacki

appealed to him. He considered her too tal and lanky, and he disliked her skimpy clothes and glaring

makeup.

But she was a Conor, and for that reason, Roger's morbid curiosity drove him to learn as much

about her as he could.

Beneath the shade of a tal oak tree, Eve stretched out in a lounge chair. With her eyes closed, her

body relaxed, she might have been asleep. But Roger noted the signs of tension in her face, the way

her brows puckered, the press of her lips together.

Il ness or fatigue?

Not that he cared, real y.

Except that Eve made no secret of despising him and that wouldn't do. Cam valued Eve's opinion.

That meant Roger had to value it, too.

And thinking of Cam ... She stood at the gril , her trim hips swaying in time to the music as if she

actual y enjoyed it. Did she? He thought she preferred country music. He'd have to remember to ask

her about it.

He wanted to know everything about her, al her likes and dislikes. Her worries. Her fears.

Sweet, naive Cam. He gazed at her as she turned hamburgers and hot dogs with that same

attention to detail that he found so enthral ing.

One day soon, he'd be the recipient of that attention—in bed. With them both naked. Hot. Sweaty.

Breathing deeper, Roger absorbed the sight of her and accepted the effect she had on him. Each

day he grew more obsessed with her. More possessive. On his list of things to have, Cam Conor

was number one.

That anyone dared to stand between them infused him with raw fury.

Roger glanced over his shoulder at the men on the roof—and found Dean staring down at him. His

expression was inscrutable, but somehow Roger stil felt warned.

Refusing to be cowed, Roger stared back until Lorna suddenly burst out. "And just whose

outrageous idea was it to have a picnic?"

Everyone became aware of them at once.

Eve sat up from her reclined position.

Jacki paused in her attempts to set the picnic table.

Cam turned—and smiled at him. "Roger. When did you get here?"

That innocent smile never failed to do things to him, making him feel touched. Teased. Sexual y

primed.

The sun added blond highlights to her light brown, baby-fine hair. The humidity of the day combined

with the heat of the gril put a dewy flush to her delicate skin. In many ways, she seemed younger than

twenty-three.

Until he looked into her eyes. Or at her body.

Young or not, she had a woman's responsibility, a woman's sensuality.

Roger metered his breathing with effort. "We just arrived."

Today Cam wore a casual sleeveless blouse in a summery shade of pale green, with tan walking

shorts. Such understated clothes—hiding such a provocative body.

He'd seen her in her bathing suit enough times to fantasize with accuracy. The sight of her smal

waist and long shapely legs was permanently burned into his memory. Unlike Jacki, Cam's breasts

would fil his hands. .. .

Lust stirred deep inside Roger. For so many reasons, Cam often felt like an unattainable dream. But

that was an il usion, and he'd prove it by making her his own. He
would
have her.

One way or another.

Separating himself from Lorna's abrasive attitude, he strode forward and greeted Cam with a light

kiss to her mouth. She didn't dodge him, but she didn't exactly seem thril ed, either.

How could she continue to put him off with everything fal ing down around her? Despite her damned

brother's intrusion, he was her savior. When the time was right, she'd have no choice but to turn to

him.

For everything.

And then he'd get his due.

"I want someone to answer me this instant," Lorna demanded.

Roger barely managed to keep his frustration hidden. Lorna Ross had no sense of subtlety, no real

discretion.

Cam put up a hand to shade her eyes. "I decided to gril out, Aunt Lorna. It's a beautiful day, and I'm sure Dean and Gregor are working up an appetite."

Lorna lowered her voice, but not enough. "Gregor? And who is this Gregor person with al those

disturbing tattoos? What do you know of him? Are you sure he's not a convict or some such?"

A smile twitched on Cam's mouth. "Of course he's not. He's a friend of Dean."

Lorna sniffed her disdain. "And on that recommendation you al owed this man to know our

address?"

The blatant insult sent shock rippling through Cam. Roger started to intervene, but she didn't give

him a chance.

"Enough." Pushing Roger aside, Cam stepped around him to deal with her aunt. She didn't lower her voice one iota. In fact, she might have raised it. "On that recommendation, I would move him in if

asked."

On a deep gulp of air, Lorna prepared for a ripping tirade—when Dean's booming laughter erupted.

Everyone turned to look at him.