Outspoken Angel (10 page)

He opted for Plan B. He braced one hip
against the outside of the door and knocked lightly with two
knuckles. “Shortcake?”

He heard a loud splash behind the door.

“Hey, Hot Stuff, are you in there?”

Cameron coughed. “Max?”

“What are you doing in there?”

“Soaking. How did you get in the house?”

“I used your code.”

“I didn’t tell you my code.”

Her reaction amused him. Her security system
was no match for him. Screw the code.

“You shouldn’t use your birthday.”

“You know my birthday?”

“There’s not a whole lot I don’t know about
you.”

She cleared her throat. “I didn’t use that
combination.”

“Forget numbers. I cut the wires.”

Another splash. “You cut the wires?”

“See how easy it is to sneak up on you?”

He managed to catch the last two words of her
mumbled rant.
Smart ass
.

“Are you planning on coming in here?”

His grin widened. “You didn’t lock the door?”
Not that the lock could keep him out.

She gave a half laugh. “No, the alarm was set
and I was pretty confident I was the only one here.”

“Hurry up; I’m hungry.”

“Okay.” He heard gurgling water as she opened
the drain. “Um, Max? Are you still out there?”

“Yes.”

“I need some help.”

He frowned. He hadn’t heard her fall. “What
kind of help?”

“I left my towel on the bed.”

He swung his gaze to the bed. There lay a
folded, yellow towel, flashing like a warning beacon. Well, hell.
If she didn’t have a towel in there, one of two things were going
to have to happen.

He smiled with an air of pleasure. “Looks
like you’re in a pickle, Princess. How are you going to get out of
there without me seeing you naked?”

“Easy. I’ll crack the door and you can hand
it to me.”

“Or you can come and get it.”

“Fine, I’m coming out.”

He swallowed hard and anticipated her next
move. He quickly pushed off the door and grabbed the towel.

“Never mind, Lady Godiva, crack the
door.”

She giggled and cracked the bathroom door
enough to stick one arm through.

“Hurry.” She motioned him with a wave of her
hand. “The heat is escaping.”

Max tossed the towel from one hand to
another. No way would this cover her. He passed the towel to her
anyway. “You did remember your clothes, right?”

“No.” She closed the door.

“Do you need me to get those too?” He said a
silent prayer as he hardened. Jeans and t-shirt he could handle.
Bra and panties, no.
Hell, no
. The thought of running his
fingers through her soft, silky lingerie made him sweat.
Damn,
it’s hot in here
.

“No thank you, Max. I think I’ll keep my
lingerie a secret for now.”

His erection twitched.

“I’m going downstairs,” he mumbled, leaving
the bedroom.
And, take your time
. He needed time, lots of
it, to convince his body to behave.

Max descended the stairs in record time and
stomped to the control panel to splice the alarm wires back
together. He took a deep breath, removed the casing, and attempted
to gather his thoughts about Cameron.

The little vixen. She had a way with words
that completely unraveled his self control. Him. Maximilian
Sterling, Navy SEAL. He cursed under his breath and twisted the
green and orange wires together. He was in charge of top-secret,
classified missions one hundred times more trying than Cameron.
Yet, she could knock him over with one touch of her tiny pink
fingernail.
What the hell?

He snapped the panel back in place, satisfied
when the armed light turned solid red. It wasn’t much of a barrier,
but it would provide a decent stall tactic.

Max sat down on the sofa and rested his
elbows on his knees. Yeah, the woman could take him down and he had
a feeling he was getting ready to go down hard. He took a few deep,
cleansing breaths, and hoped to put things in perspective.

Cameron was a beautiful woman from the top of
her bright blonde head to her delicate polished toenails. True, she
epitomized the meaning of feminine with her scheduled spa day on
Wednesdays and her love for designer shoes, but those things drew
him to her. Her hoity-toity manner, meant to discourage him, made
him hard as a 2x4, proving the fire inside her was scalding
hot.

Over the last few days, he witnessed the more
vulnerable side of Cameron. Her fear of Vince showed how truly
brave she was and how determined she could be. He smiled. His kind
of woman. The type of woman who showed the real difference between
men and women.

He sighed. Maybe things could change after
Stone was caught. Pursuing her at this point in time would be
shooting himself in the foot. He needed to concentrate on keeping
her safe, not how insanely satisfying it would be to take her. To
possess her. To love her. There was just one small problem.

He already loved her.

Admitting that to himself nearly sliced him
in two. He prided himself in being in complete control of his
emotions. Years of military training had shaped him into a
well-oiled machine, acting without emotion, doing without
thinking.

Women loved him and as callous as it seemed,
he took advantage. He made time for each and every one, making sure
they understood there was no room for them in his heart. Then along
came Cameron with her hot body and smart mouth. Her outspoken
demeanor had made her an angel of sorts. A golden angel sent to
save him from himself. She had not only captured his heart, she
provided the air he needed to breathe. But he couldn’t act now, not
when she was in trouble. His feelings would have to wait.

Besides, he knew from personal experience the
repercussions of sharing your heart. Not an option.

Hoping to distract himself, Max reached for a
small photo album on the table in front of him and eased back
against the pillows. He glanced at his watch. Knowing Cameron, he’d
probably wait for another hour.

He flipped slowly through the pages of the
album, amazed at the grandeur. The rooms were expertly designed and
lavishly decorated, each photo illustrating a before and after
scene. Cameron’s curly-Q signature occupied each corner.

As he flipped through the photos, a loose
page slipped from the back of the book. He felt a grin split his
lips as he interpreted the sketch. A dragon wearing black
sunglasses. A knight with curls, wearing high heels.

Puff the Magic Dragon
.

Max shook his head, slid the paper back in
the book, and went back to the photos.

“Like what you see?” Cameron’s voice tickled
his ear from behind him.

He closed the book and placed it back on the
table. “You’re good.”

“I am,” she bragged, “but then again, you’re
looking at my portfolio. They don’t always turn out so
spectacular.”

“Why?”

She sat next to him. “Some people have no
sense of color. Despite what many think, there is an actual art to
decorating. And, even though they spend thousands of dollars to
hire me, sometimes they don’t take my advice.” She grimaced. “I
don’t keep those pictures.”

He nodded in understanding.

“This is one of the few times I’ve seen you
without your sunglasses,” she said thoughtfully.

“Want me to put them on?”

“No, Hollywood, you just always wear
them.”

“I’m scarier with them on.”

“Uh-huh.” She rolled her eyes. “Sure you
are.”

“Are you going to cook?”

“No.”

“We had a deal.”

“I know, but I don’t cook.”

He studied her silently for a moment. “I
hauled your frou-frou junk up the driveway and stood holding it
while Mrs. Vandiver ogled me, Benedict Arnold.”

“Relax, I ordered in.”

She went to the kitchen and returned a few
minutes later with five odd-shaped cartons. She handed him a pair
of chopsticks. “You like Chinese, right?”

He raised his eyebrow at the chopsticks.
“Yeah.”

She grinned and exchanged the chopsticks for
a fork before opening the cartons. “You’re no fun, Max.”

The steamy aroma escaped from its cardboard
cage, filling the air with the sweet smell of ginger and
almonds.

“Have you had any more phone calls?” He
avoided the green and orange inside his carton.

She speared a pepper and thrust it at his
mouth. “Here, try this.”

He reluctantly put the pepper in his mouth
and ignored the bitterness while he chewed. “Phone calls,” he
prompted.

“None. I guess you scared him away. My
hero.”

“Not likely,” he grunted.

“Max, you can’t stand guard forever.”

“It won’t be forever, just long enough to put
him back in jail.”

A shadow of annoyance crossed her face. “I
can’t believe they ever let him out.”

“How did they finally catch him?”

“They didn’t. I did. But he was charged with
stalking. Luckily it was his third strike.”

“How’d you ever hook up with Stone
anyway?”

“My father introduced us. He seemed perfectly
boring -“ She giggled. “I mean, harmless at first. The relationship
went nowhere fast and when I broke it off, he wasn’t happy.”

Max grimaced in good humor. “How often did he
follow you after that?”

“Constantly, but that wasn’t what freaked me
out.”

He narrowed his eyes at her confession. “What
else?”

“I came home to a path of rose petals leading
to my bedroom.”

He twisted one corner of his mouth upward.
“Most women would eat that up.”

“Vince was very controlling, Max,” she said.
“Obsessed. I couldn’t be out of his sight for more than five
minutes. Believe me, my creativity was pushed to the limit. I could
only come up with so many ways to avoid him.”

“Like trying to harness the wind,” he
muttered.

She shrugged and dropped her chopsticks on
the table.

“Tell me something.” She climbed back onto
the sofa next to him and ran her fingers across the top of his
head. “How do you have such a smooth head?”

He coughed and swallowed quickly to avoid
choking.
The head on top of your body, dumb ass.
His heart
beat double time from her seductive caress.

“I’ve been bald a long time.”

“Do you shave it?”

“Once a week.”

“It doesn’t grow back?”

“Not much. I’ve spent too much time in a
wetsuit.”

Her eyes sparkled. “Can I shave it next
time?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t think I want the combination of you
and a razor anywhere near my head.”

She gave a soft laugh and the sound of it
stroked his libido once again. She traced the bulging muscles of
his forearms with her slender fingers. “Tell me about yourself,
Max.”

“I don’t talk much.”

“Duh.” She snorted. “Come on, if you insist
on holding me hostage, at least throw me a few scraps of personal
information.”

Uncomfortable with her ability to wiggle past
his restraint, he considered her request. How much of himself was
he willing to reveal?

“Have you ever been married?” she
persisted.

“Yeah,” he grunted, “to the Navy.”

“Be serious!” She huffed and lightly punched
his left biceps.

A muscle quivered at his jaw. “You hit like a
girl. Maybe I should take you to the gym.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I am a girl,”
she said dryly.

He shifted uneasily. The creature sitting
beside him was no girl. She was a full-blown woman, beautiful, sexy
and off limits.

He reluctantly dragged his thoughts from her
body. “Okay, I give. No, I’ve never been married.”

“Ever come close?”

Holy hell
. “No. You?”

Her eyes sparkled as if she were playing a
game. “I thought you knew everything about me.”

“Maybe I just want to hear it from you.”

Although he knew she baited him, he couldn’t
resist. The only thing better was teasing her body, caressing her
baby soft skin, nipping her tempting lips, nuzzling the hollow of
her neck.

Her eyes widened as if she had read his
mind.

She cleared her throat. “I’ve never been
married or engaged, and I don’t plan to either.”

He winked. “Because no one will put up with
you?”

“I’m not as difficult as you.” She trailed
her index finger down the steps of his chest. “I’m just not willing
to give up my life as a self-reliant, independent woman. I have yet
to find a man worthy of that sacrifice.”

“We have that in common,” he agreed. “I don’t
need a ball and chain either.”

She gave him another smooth, silky laugh.
“You love women, Max.”

“How do you know?”

He watched her grow openly amused at his
unease.

“I’ve seen you in action, Don Juan. Believe
me, you appreciate everything female.” She gazed mischievously at
him with the devil dancing in her eyes. “So, I can’t help but
wonder why you’re so opposed to a permanent relationship.”

He wiped the emotion from his face. Wouldn’t
little Miss Hell-on-Wheels like to know? One tremor of weakness
tossed in her direction would be a mortal wound. And if she knew
how insecure he was in love, she’d personally drive the nails right
through his coffin.

“I guess we’re both die hard free spirits,”
he said finally.

“I wouldn’t exactly call you a free spirit,”
she scoffed. “However, since neither of us wants a commitment, we
could at least have some fun.”

He peered at her as he processed her bold
invitation. Another jab. Did he hear her correctly? Every man’s
dream: sex with no strings. He flinched at the unexpected poke of
that double-edged sword. Sex with her would bind him with chains,
not strings. Even iron chains could subdue Hercules.

“I’ve got some work to do.” He stood and took
the cartons from the table. “Yell if you get scared.”