No Risk Refused Page 6

  Last night he’d lain awake in the guest room reliving what it had felt like to have every soft curve and angle of her body pressed against his, and the devouring heat, the churning in his gut, that the contact had triggered. The sensory memories had kept him from sleeping for hours.

  Cam reached the top of the hill the red convertible had shot over and caught his favorite view of the lake, the sturdy castle with its terraces and balconies nestled in the tall pines, the lush gardens and the blue lake glimmering like a sapphire below it. From this spot, he could even see part of the stone arch. He knew how to do his job. What he still had to figure out was what he was going to do about Adair. And as he started down the hill to the castle, he wondered if he had a choice.

  * * *

  ADAIR DRAGGED THE last potted plant into position, then stepped back to survey what she’d been able to accomplish since the departure of the Maitlands. Her aunt had returned to the kitchen to work on the groom’s cake. The mix of lavender hyacinths and purple irises offered a stark contrast to the gray stones, and the colors would pick up the tones in the maid of honor’s and flower girl’s dresses.

  The physical exertion of moving the pots into place had helped her get a clearer perspective on Rexie’s wedding. Focusing on a task and finding a solution had always been one of her strengths. But that skill hadn’t worked for her in Chicago. In hindsight, she could see that she’d been so focused on the projects she’d been doing with Bax that she hadn’t picked up on the fact that he was taking all the credit for them.

  Maybe she just didn’t have good judgment when it came to men. Which made it very good that her attraction for Cam Sutherland was one-sided. And he’d no doubt be leaving today. How long could it take to check out their security and reassure her father?

  Pushing the thought out of her mind, she backed up to the first row of chairs and sank down. She had a wedding to pull off and she was going to do her best to ensure it went forward. Everyone wanted it to, including the bride.

  In her mind, she pictured the bridal couple standing beneath the arch and imagined what she hadn’t seen yesterday. The minister saying, “You may now kiss the bride.” Rexie wrapping her arms around Lawrence and kissing him.

  Visualizing your goal was essential to achieving it, just as important as writing it down. That was business school 101. It had been hammered home in every self-help book she’d read, every entrepreneurship course she’d taken. Even her ex-boyfriend, Bax, had talked about it. He probably believed that she’d been axed and he hadn’t because of his superior visualization skills.

  Or had the problem been that she hadn’t been able to “see” what he’d been doing? Maybe she hadn’t wanted to see reality. Instead she’d wanted to believe in the fantasy she’d created in her mind of their perfect partnership.

  Focus. Bax was history, and Cam soon would be. What she needed to concentrate on right now was the upcoming wedding. The fate of her new business plan depended on its success.

  Closing her eyes, she summoned the image to her mind. Rexie kissing Lawrence. Rexie kissing Lawrence. Digging into Rexie’s first marriage to Barry was not her problem. Pulling off the second one to Lawrence was. Slowly her imagination delivered. Pretty Rexie, her blond curls all pulled up with pearls threaded through them. And the groom, holding her close.

  Keep your focus. Wait for it.

  The image grew clearer and closer. A tall man with lean, chiseled features and sandy-colored hair finally lowered his mouth to Rexie’s.

  But he definitely didn’t look anything like Lawrence Banes.

  Cut. Stop action.

  Adair snapped her eyes open, but the stranger’s mouth had been brushing Rexie’s before she’d pushed the image out of her mind.

  She pressed her hands to her temples. Think of something else. A quick glance at her watch told her that she still had forty-five minutes until her next appointment. A prospective client who’d called first thing that morning. Nathan MacDonald. He’d been driving through the mountains and stopped at the diner in Glen Loch, and the patrons had been talking about the upcoming wedding. He and his fiancée were looking for the ideal place to schedule their own wedding. Adair had set him up for a brief tour.

  She dragged one of the chairs out of its straight line and propped her feet on it. Leaning back, she closed her eyes and just for a minute, she made her mind go blank. She concentrated on the sensation of the warm sun on her face, smelled the scent of fresh mulch, pine and flowers. In the distance she heard the rumble of the lawn mower and much closer the chattering of birds, the hum of bees.

  As she let herself drift, another image filled her mind. It was blurry at first, but as it slowly came into focus she saw that she was standing beneath the arch, not Rexie. And the man holding her? Hard to see in the shadows cast by the stones. But she grew steadily warmer as the features slowly sharpened in her mind—the dark unruly hair, the lean face with its slash of cheekbones. Familiar.

  The hands were not so familiar, but as they gripped her waist and pulled her closer, pleasure rippled along her nerve endings. She tipped her head up as he lowered his. He was close now. In another second, his mouth would… With a sigh, she let herself sink into the kiss.

  * * *

  THE INSTANT THE driveway curved past the stone arch, Cam spotted Adair. He’d taken three steps toward her before he realized he was moving. She had her feet propped up on one chair, her eyes closed, and her head resting on the back of another. A wiser tactic might have been to turn around and continue on to the castle. He wanted to ask Vi to give him her take on the bridegroom in the upcoming wedding.

  But a good agent took advantage of every opportunity to gather all kinds of data. It had been too dark in the foyer last night to get a good look at Adair. This was his chance to study her. If he could pinpoint just what it was that drew him, he might be able to figure out a solution.

  While he crossed to her he had time to refresh his memory of that neat, trim little body. She was wearing shorts, and he noted that the legs were longer than one might expect in someone of her slight stature. She was still slender, but the hint of curves she’d had at twenty-one had fully matured.

  As he drew closer it was her face that drew his gaze and stopped him in his tracks. Maybe it was because he’d never seen her asleep before that he hadn’t noticed how fragile she looked or how really delicate her features were. He’d nicknamed her “Princess” to annoy her, but he’d never thought of her as one. Princesses needed white knights to rescue them and fight their battles. When he was ten he’d never thought of her that way. If he’d had to play with a girl, he’d figured she was okay. She could handle herself.

  But right now, nestled on that chair with a curl tumbled across her cheek, she looked vulnerable, someone a white knight would want to protect and cherish. And it wasn’t a fire he felt spreading through his blood; it was something much warmer. He found it nearly as intriguing as heat. And probably more dangerous.

  Still, he ignored the impulse to walk away and said, “You’ve got to stop slaving away like this.”

  The voice had her eyes snapping open but her mind still clung to her dream. In it, Cam’s mouth had been on hers. Now reality registered slowly. Blearily, she made out long legs clad in worn denim. She shifted her gaze upward, taking in the narrow waist. The chambray shirt was rolled up revealing muscled forearms. A big man, she thought, broad shouldered. One hand gripped the handles of a canvas bag; the other was long fingered and resting on narrow hips.

  But even when she managed to raise her eyes all the way to his face, it took a second for her mind to fully focus. Her heart had already begun to race, her body to weaken before recognition slammed into her.

  “Cam?” She blinked again, trying to gather her thoughts.

  “Forgotten about me already, Princess?”

  “Adair,” she corrected automatically. Some of her strength returned. “I must have fallen asleep.” And he’d sneaked into her dream just as he’d sneaked up on her when she was
asleep.

  Asleep?

  She shot a panicked look at her watch, then let out the breath she’d been holding. If she’d drifted off, it hadn’t been for long. But her brain still seemed to be operating on a three- or four-second delay. She got to her feet and found herself craning her neck to meet Cam’s eyes. She hadn’t had to do that in the foyer last night. Not when she’d been face-to-face with him on the floor.

  The Sutherlands were all tall, but she could have sworn that Cam had grown even taller since she’d seen him last. And he’d changed. At her father’s wedding he’d still been partly a boy. Now she was facing a man, and as she looked into those blue eyes her throat went dry and something was happening to her knees.

  No one had ever affected her this way. She had to get a handle on it. She couldn’t afford to let some man befuddle her brain again. Pushing past the dryness in her throat, she said, “What are you doing here?” Brilliant. “I didn’t hear your car.”

  “Some bat out of hell ran me off the road.”

  Her eyes widened. “When?”

  “Half an hour or so ago. Red convertible. She looks like Marilyn Monroe and drives like she’s in the Indy 500?”

  Adair nearly smiled. “That was Bunny Maitland, the MOB, otherwise known as the Mother of the Bride.” She ran her eyes over Cam again, stifling the urge to linger. “You look fine. How’s your car?”

  “Needs a tow.” He set down the canvas bag. “But I enjoyed the walk. Is Blondie the MOB in this Saturday’s wedding?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “How do you know about the wedding?”

  “Sheriff Skinner mentioned it when I dropped in to tell him that you and Vi had discovered one of Eleanor’s earrings. According to him, the whole village is talking about the rich couple from Long Island who are getting married here. They’re hoping they’ll spread the news about what a lovely spot you have here and increase the tourist trade.”

  “That’s the plan,” she said. “What’s yours? Has our security system passed muster?”

  “Not yet.” Cam had to bite back a smile. This was the Adair he remembered, just a little on the pushy side. “Can you show me where you and Vi found the earring?”

  “Over here.” When she started to tug on one of the heavy pots overflowing with blooms Cam grabbed the other side to help her shift it.

  Pointing to the rocks and stones that still lay strewn at the base of the arch, she said, “This is where we assume Alba found the earring. We heard her digging around on this side, but we didn’t actually see where she found the leather pouch. Aunt Vi and I searched through these stones to see if we could find the rest of Eleanor’s dowry, but they’re essentially where we found them.”

  Cam swept his gaze over the side of the stone arch. It was about ten feet long and the height stretched to about ten feet. The rocks varied in size and offered enough small ledges and handholds that he and his brothers had scaled the thing countless times. In fact they’d even had team relay races with the girls. He’d always chosen Adair because she hadn’t been afraid.

  Angus One was supposed to have built it himself but Cam figured he’d had some help lifting the bigger slabs, and he must have possessed a natural talent for engineering. The thing had stood there for over two hundred years.

  “Did it take a direct hit from the lightning?” he asked.

  “If not, it had to be close. We were in the middle of the wedding rehearsal, and when the storm thundered in, the closest place to take shelter was here. Most of the wedding party was already beneath it. When the lightning struck, the impact was enough to tear the bride out of the groom’s arms and into the minister’s.”

  Cam pictured the scene in his mind. “If I were the groom I might take it as a warning and back out.”

  “He’s not the problem,” Adair said.

  Cam studied her. “He’s not?”

  She shook her head. “The wedding will solidify some business arrangement that he has with the bride’s family. So her parents are on board, too. And the bride is depending on the legend to provide her happy-ever-after. It’s all good.”

  Her words were saying one thing, her eyes another. Adair’s eyes had always been so easy to read, and she was worried. She might have more to worry about than she knew. The business merger side of the wedding fit in perfectly with Gianni Scalzo’s M.O., and that argued Daryl’s instinct might be right.

  He shifted his gaze to the stones and spotted a small crevice where the rocks and smaller stones might have fallen out. Dropping to his knees, he slipped his hand inside.

  “There’s nothing there,” Adair said. “I told you Vi and I already checked to see if there was another pouch.”

  “There are more loose stones.” He pulled one out, half the size of his palm, and poked his hand in again. He pulled out an even-larger one.

  Adair dropped to her knees and tried to get a look around his shoulder.

  “I can’t quite finesse this next rock, but I can feel space behind it.” He grunted, then said, “Yeah, I think we’ve got something here.”

  6

  “WHAT? Another pouch?” Adair asked.

  “Can’t tell. First I need to get past this stubborn rock. If I could just get a good grip…”

  “Let me.” Moving on her knees, she wiggled closer until she was practically plastered to his side. “My hand’s smaller.”

  She slid it into the opening. When his rough palm slid over her skin, heat streaked to her toes. “Get your hand out, so I can try—”

  He turned his head and suddenly they were face-to-face. All she saw were his eyes. They were so dark, the color of the sky near twilight.

  “Try what?”

  The words had her dropping her gaze to his mouth. That was exactly what she wanted to try. The taste she’d sampled in her dream hadn’t been enough. When his hand wrapped around hers, she felt the heat sear through her right down to her toes. His lips were close, only an inch away. All she had to do was eliminate that small distance and all her dreams and fantasies would become real. She would finally feel the pressure of his lips; she could finally taste him. Lord, she could smell him. Soap and water and something that was different. Male. Just breathing in had the intense and achy need inside of her sharpening. And it wasn’t going to go away. Unless—

  “We should—” she began.

  “Yeah.”

  Later, Cam wasn’t sure who moved first. All that mattered was that their lips brushed, met. And clung. Heat exploded at the contact and spread like electricity along a hot wire. Then, each scrape of teeth, each tangle of tongues upped the wattage.

  He streaked his free hand up her side and around to cover her breast. Then he pulled his other one out of the crevice so that he could hold her fully against him.

  Blood roared in his ears. Desire hammered at him with a sharpness he’d never felt before. He wanted her, wanted to peel those clothes away and explore every curve and angle. He wanted to feel her skin grow hot and moist beneath his hands. He wanted her beneath him again. No woman had ever taken him this far with only a kiss. In another moment…

  Cam had no idea what finally gave him the strength to pull back. They were both panting. Nothing else marred the silence other than the distant hum of a hedge trimmer, a soft breeze at the tops of the pines.

  “That was…” She broke off as if at a loss for words.

  “Yeah.” That was the single one he could latch onto.

  “Crazy.”

  “Insane,” he agreed. And Lord help him, if he could just kiss her again, he’d take the straitjacket.

  “You and me. It would be a mistake.”

  “Probably.” He moved his hand to the back of her neck and fastened his mouth on her throat. Her scent was stronger here—fresh flowers and sunshine. He found it incredibly erotic.

  “We can’t… We have to… Stop.”

  That one word had him struggling to latch onto a thin thread of control. He raised his head, but he couldn’t take his eyes off hers. And he saw himself compl
etely enclosed in the misty green.

  “Just one more taste.” She fisted a hand in his hair and drew his mouth back to hers. Heaven, she thought. And hell. His mouth was so skilled and much more potent than she’d ever imagined. With his teeth and tongue he nibbled, then devoured, seduced and then possessed.

  Oh, she’d expected the heat, welcomed it as it flooded through her again. But the intensity of it—the way it sizzled and burned, singeing, then melting everything in its path. That was so new. So amazing. She wanted more. She wanted to crawl right into him until she dissolved and the terrible need inside her eased.

  When he ran his hands down her sides, she felt his touch in every part of her body. Her breasts ached, her thighs trembled. When he drew back she wanted to cry out from the loss.

  “Adair, we have to finish this inside.”

  “Inside?” The word floated into her consciousness through a thick fog. “Finish this?” Finally, his meaning penetrated. Shock tore through her when her first reaction was to say yes. Still, it took all her focus to say, “No.”

  He dropped his hands and sat back down on his heels. She had to brace herself against the stone arch or slide bonelessly to the ground.

  What had she been thinking?

  The answer to that was pretty simple. She hadn’t been thinking at all. Except about what it might be like to kiss Cam. And now that she knew…

  “We have to think about something else.” Fast, Adair thought. “We were searching for the rest of Eleanor’s jewels.”

  “Right.” It shocked Cam that the jewels had slipped entirely from his mind. There’d been no room for anything but Adair. Before this, desire had always been enjoyable, simple. It had never slashed through him until the wanting had been…everything.

  Think about something else.

  Edging farther back, he dragged his gaze away from her and glanced at the crevice.

  “You think the rest of the jewels might be in there somewhere, don’t you?” she asked.