Outspoken Angel (5 page)

Max had mere seconds to realize what Cameron
was doing before her lips touched his in a warm massage. His cock
jumped and protested its confinement under his buttoned jeans. With
her breasts positioned barely two inches from his mouth, his
imagination ran wild. His tongue begged to touch her, to circle her
nipple and suckle. Yeah, he was in major pain. She had no idea how
much pain he experienced around her. Yet, he remained motionless,
exercised amazing self-control, and relished her pillow-soft lips.
With one last peck, she ended the kiss and the sound of a soft
tinkling noise distracted him once again. Were his ears
ringing?

“That’s not where I’m hurt,” he croaked as
she stepped back away from him.

She smirked. “I know. I figured that would
take away all your pain.”

Desperate to regain control, he ended the
discussion about pain. “Call Rachel, Sex Pistol.” He watched her
smirk quiver as he eased back into his shirt. “She’s worried.”

“I will.” She turned away to return the
alcohol to the cabinet.

“Pirelli hasn’t bothered you, has he?”

Cameron squealed as she slammed the cabinet
on her finger. “No.” She stuck the injured digit into her mouth.
“Why?”

Max stepped closer and pulled her finger from
her mouth. “Just doing my job.” He wrapped his hand around hers and
massaged the swelling flesh.

“Your job?”

He nodded once and continued rubbing.

“It’s not your job to protect me, Max.”

He gave her a half smile. “Rachel would kill
me if I let Pirelli anywhere near you.”

He stood confident she couldn’t argue with
his reasoning and decided to give her something else to think
about. His hand stilled just a moment before he lifted her finger
to his mouth, sucked it inside, and traced it with his tongue
several times. Her strangled gasp made him grin and he slowly
withdrew her finger.

“Tempting a hungry lion with raw meat is
dangerous, Princess.”

With one last cocky grin, he dropped her
hand, walked to the door and left her dazed and motionless in the
middle of the kitchen.

As soon as Max untangled himself from the
sticky threads of Cameron’s invisible web, he gave himself a swift
kick in the ass. That was not supposed to happen. He was only
trying to turn the tables and prove to her that her teasing didn’t
affect him. But it did, and in the process of teaching her a
lesson, he’d made himself hard. He palmed the annoying bulge
between his legs. Miserably hard.

He attempted to clear his mind as he got into
his truck and white-knuckled the steering wheel. Cameron was just
baiting him, trying to prove she always had the last word. He
snickered as he pulled out of the driveway. Not only had she not
had the last word this time, she hadn’t said a word at all.

* * *

CHAPTER FOUR

Cameron pierced the cement with her high
heels as she entered her downtown office complex and walked across
the lobby to wait for the elevator. The morning had been a total
waste of time. Between the two hours she spent to convince a very
stubborn client that leopard spots were probably not the best
choice for living room walls, and a series of hang-up calls on her
cell phone, she wanted to scream. To top it all off, she hadn’t
slept well. Yesterday’s excitement saw to that.

Not only was she still humiliated that Max
rescued her from the tree, she was equally humiliated that she
allowed him to call her bluff. When she decided to tease him about
his pain, she had no idea he’d reciprocate with his own challenge.
A wave of heat rolled through her. The man was expertly skilled in
the art of seduction. How could he not be? Half-naked women threw
themselves at him daily.

She stopped to think about that for a minute
as she stepped onto the elevator. She’d never seen Max with the
same woman twice. Most women would find that unattractive, but she
knew firsthand what a structured life he led. Max was a control
freak. A very dedicated control freak. She was willing to bet that
nothing interfered with his control. Including his individual
needs. A warm willing woman to scratch an itch once in a while was
definitely his style.

Yet, when he took her finger into his mouth,
her pain traveled to a whole different part of her body and darn
near made her faint. She couldn’t remember being that aroused.
Ever. Seduction of that caliber took practice.

Needless to say, sleeping had not been easy.
Max kept creeping into her thoughts and every time she dozed off,
it was as if he yanked her pillow out from underneath her. Even the
cat was so irritated he slept on the floor.

Cameron yawned and heard her cell phone ring.
Juggling her purse and her sketch pad, she fumbled to find it
before it stopped. She finally grasped it with two free fingers and
untangled it from the strap of her purse.

“Cameron Tremaine.”

Silence greeted her.

She switched ears for better reception and
checked the caller ID. Unknown caller.

“Hello?”

Nothing.

“I don’t have time for this,” she mumbled as
she hit the end button and then buried the phone into the depths of
her purse. After eight unknown callers in one day, she refused to
answer it again.

As soon as the elevator delivered her to the
fifth floor, Cameron stomped through the office door, right past
Rachel, tossed her bag onto the couch, and threw herself down
beside it.

“Obviously your meeting didn’t go well.”
Rachel handed her a steaming mug. “You’re favorite, raspberry
tea.”

“Thank you. Some people have no taste.”

Cameron’s cell phone rang again from the
bottom of her purse. She ignored the noise and quietly sipped her
tea.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?” Rachel
asked.

Cameron gave Rachel her best
yeah
right
look. “No.”

Rachel frowned. “You always answer your
phone.”

“Not this time.” Cameron took another sip and
swung one leg. “The stupid thing’s been ringing all morning.”

“That’s good, right? The more business, the
better.”

Cameron sighed and set her mug on the table
in front of the couch. “Normally,” she agreed, “except that every
time I answer, no one is there.”

“Maybe it’s a bad connection.”

“Eight times?”

“What does the caller ID say?”

“Unknown caller.”

“Probably one of those computerized sales
calls,” Rachel decided.

“Maybe.” She relaxed somewhat at Rachel’s
suggestion. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

“Oh!” Rachel stood, picked up a tan envelope
from the front desk and handed it to her. “You have mail.”

“Great!” Cameron grabbed the envelope and
tore open the top. “Hopefully these are the swatches I’ve been
waiting for.”

She gasped when three glossy 8x10 photos fell
into her lap. Her stomach lurched as her eyes scanned photos of
Sean and her at three different locations around town. Photos taken
of what she’d considered private, romantic dates. Obviously, she’d
been mistaken.

“Not swatches,” she whispered.

Rachel scooped the pictures from Cameron’s
lap. “Anything else?”

Cameron nodded and unfolded a small slip of
paper.

YOU CAN’T HIDE

“Cameron?” Rachel prodded. “What does it
say?”

Cameron handed the note to Rachel and watched
as the blood left her face.

“I don’t suppose there’s a return address,”
Rachel murmured.

“No.”

“Any ideas?”

Cameron refolded the paper and placed it back
into the envelope. “Vince.”

“He’s in jail.”

“No, he’s not. The warden called me a couple
days ago. He’s out.”

“You really think this is from Vince?”

“Yes.”

“And the phone calls?”

“Yes.”

Rachel grabbed the phone. “We need help.”

“Who are you calling?”

“Hawke.”

“No offense, Rachel, but I don’t think Music
Man can help us much.”

“Shush,” Rachel snapped.

Cameron watched Rachel rub her stomach as she
explained the situation to Hawke. Within seconds, she disconnected
and re-dialed.

Cameron frowned. “That was fast. Now who are
you calling?”

“Max,” Rachel said.

“Hawke’s Max?”

“Yes, Cameron, Max.”

To anyone else but Cameron, Rachel’s tone
offered no argument, but Cameron wouldn’t summon Max out of
fear.

She swallowed the softball in her throat.
“Choose someone else.”

Rachel folded her arms across her chest in a
bold dare. “No. We need Max.”

Cameron opened her mouth to issue a challenge
then closed it, realizing Rachel wouldn’t budge. “Fine. Call
Max.”

* * *

Max lifted a two hundred pound barbell from
the cradle and pumped it several times before he replaced it. He
lifted a lot more lately, all due to Cameron Tremaine. The feisty
little pixie had managed to worm her way through his armor and wrap
him around her little finger. Now that she saw Pirelli for the
player he was, she turned her frustration toward him. Fiercely
arousing him in the process.

He squeezed the metal in his grasp and lifted
again. He had a pretty good idea that her playful insults and sassy
attitude were defense mechanisms. Apparently, someone tried to
intimidate her once upon a time and she was obviously hell-bent on
making sure that never happened again. The cool steel touched his
bare chest one last time and he exhaled before lifting it and
returning it to the cradle. So, he’d tolerate her nicknames and
haughty tone. Eventually she’d come to her senses and trust him. Or
drive him crazy in the meantime.

He sat up and swabbed his forehead with a
towel as his cell phone rang from the other room. Tossing the towel
to the bench, he padded barefoot to the living room and answered
the phone.

“Sterling.”

“Max? It’s Rachel.”

“Hey, Rachel.”

“I need you at the office. Right now.”

Something about Rachel’s demand put him on
full alert. “Have you called security?”

He heard her breath hitch. “No, I’m fine.
There’s just something here I want you to see.”

“Are you alone?”

“No, Cameron’s with me. We’re safe, Max, just
hurry.”

“On my way.”

Within minutes, he was showered, dressed and
parked outside of Newberry & Tremaine, still uneasy about
Rachel’s call. The fact that Rachel had called him herself was
unusual. He cringed as a shadow of darkness clouded his thoughts.
Unless this had something to do with Cameron.

Max growled as he parked his truck and headed
inside. Bypassing the elevator, he took the stairs two at a time
and stalked through the front door of the office. His anger and
suspicion dissipated as soon as he saw Cameron’s pasty expression,
clearly one of fear.

“Ladies.” He nodded and sat down opposite
them. “What can I do for you?”

“Cameron received some mail.” Rachel handed
him an envelope.

He dumped the contents into his lap and
quickly thumbed through the pictures. He paused to read the
note.

“We’re worried,” Rachel said bluntly.

“Any idea who sent this?”

“Just an educated guess.” Cameron shot Rachel
a warning glance.

After several seconds of silence, Max decided
to proceed. “Are you going to let me in on the secret?”

Cameron stood and folded her arms across her
chest. “Maybe, maybe not.”

Max glanced at Rachel who appeared to be
awestruck by the interaction between him and Cameron. He fought the
urge to suggest she duck out before objects flew around the
room.

As if reading his mind, Rachel grabbed her
bag and headed for the door. “Sorry, guys, I’ve got an appointment.
You’re in good hands, Cameron. Call me later.”

Cameron watched open-mouthed as Rachel
disappeared out the door.

Max snickered. “Serves you right. You set her
up with Hawke.”

Cameron glared at him through narrow
eyes.

He stood, grabbed her by the arm, and led her
to the sofa. “Okay, Princess, who’d you piss off now?”

“What are you talking about?”

“If somebody’s after you, you obviously did
something.”

“I most certainly did not!”

“Who then?”

She dismissed his question with a wave of her
hand. “Just some jerk.”

“I can’t protect you if I don’t know what’s
going on.”

“I don’t need you to protect me.”

Max sat silently and carefully chose his
words before he put her in her place.

“Regardless of whether you need me or not,
Hawke and Rachel are concerned, concerned enough to ask me to help.
Now, tell me who found you.”

Cameron sighed. “You’re a pit bull, Max.”

“I am,” he agreed. “Who?”

She looked at him and for a split second he
saw fear flash in her powder blue eyes. An average man would’ve
missed it, but much to his relief, he wasn’t average. Anger began
to rumble in his gut.

Rather than answer him, she reached to run
her finger across the small diamond stud in his left ear. “You have
an earring.”

Max sat stoic as she massaged his earlobe and
willed himself to remain emotionless regardless of the fire raging
inside him.

“How come I’ve never noticed?” she asked.

He exhaled in frustration. Fine. He’d play
her way. “I don’t wear it when I work.”

He didn’t bother to tell her that it had been
ripped out a time or two.

“I like it.” Her soft confession stoked the
fire.

Down, Boy
. She was a mark. A client.
He had to remain detached.

“Me too. Now answer my question.”

“My ex-boyfriend, Vince Stone.”

“And he’s after you because...”

“He’s an idiot.”

“Being an idiot doesn’t necessarily make a
criminal.”

“Yeah, well, he’s been in jail.”