What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 4)

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What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 4) Page 46

by Selena Kitt


  I hear Cami gasp and look over in time to see her facial expression change from shock to determination. “We have to stop that from happening, Vin.”

  The business side of Cami that made its first appearance a couple of days ago is about to have it’s own PDF file; she’s no longer Cami but Cameron Enders, CEO of Bold International.

  “Can we release a statement without Tristan needing to talk to the police?”

  “No, Tristan needs to make contact with the Orange County Sheriff’s Office. We have already tried on his behalf, but OCSO won’t go for anything less than Tristan himself contacting them.”

  “Jesus fuck! Why the hell do I have to call them? I don’t need or want to have my location revealed to them or anyone else,” I nearly shout from across the room, which I’ve been pacing. “Short of showing up at the police department, how am I supposed to prove who I am?”

  “That’s actually the easy part. You can Skype in. We told them that was the only way that you’d be able to make contact with them because you are not presently in the country. Of course that raised more than a few eyebrows. I’ll send Cami the Skype info on Deputy Peterson.”

  “I can handle Skype, but I will not contact him from my account.”

  “You can use mine, Tristan,” Cami chimes in. She looks paler than normal, if that’s even possible.

  I mouth to her, “Are you okay?”

  She nods, only slightly, not wanting to tip off Trinity to her stress. This whole situation must really be getting to her.

  “Is there anything else I need to know right now?” I ask. I just want the whole thing over with. Trinity shakes her head.

  “When we’re off of Skype with Deputy Peterson,” Cami says, sternness in her voice, “I’ll write up a press release to forward to you. We’re now left with no choice but to release a statement, and I will inform the Sheriff’s office of our intention so they don’t go running to the press with the fact that they have talked to Tristan. I’m sure they’re already working on something based off of your conversations with them.”

  “We can write up the press release on your behalf. You don’t need to do that.”

  “Trinity, I appreciate your wanting to handle this, but this is affecting me in ways I never thought. Cami and I will put it together, in my own words, and forward it to you. From there you can change whatever you think necessary, but it has to come from my own mouth.”

  “We’ll take care of it, Trinity,” Cami says, her voice strained.

  “All right, you two. Get in touch if you need anything further, and I’ll let you know as soon as I know more.

  “Oh. And Tristan?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Don’t be surprised if it comes out that this was Layla’s own scheme to take the heat off of her. The Internet is abuzz with both stories, but the news is focusing on the fire more than the article.”

  The crazy thing about what Trinity just said is that I agree with her. Layla is manipulative enough to have done this on her own. “She is just that naive to think that she can get away with this,” I say.

  Trinity just nods. “All right, Tristan, I leave you in Cami’s hands.”

  “Thanks so much,” Cami mutters.

  Trinity chuckles and disconnects.

  I turn to Cami. I’m concerned about the strength it has taken to handle this and what her reaction is. She looks to be a wreck.

  “Cami, what’s wrong?”

  She looks up at me, and her eyes are glassy with unshed tears. Her silence is almost more than I can handle.

  “Baby-girl, it’s all right.”

  I reach out for her hand, she takes it, and I pull her from the chair into a hug. Her shoulders start to shake as soon as she is in the protective barrier of my arms.

  I turn to Tyson and nod. He bows his understanding and silently leaves the room.

  “It’s just you and me, Sweets,” I whisper, and as if on cue she lets loose what I didn’t realize she was holding back. Her body shakes harder with silent sobs, and I can feel her tears soaking into my shirt.

  I pull back, just enough so that I can reach her chin to lift her face toward mine. When she’s looking up at me, I bend down and softly kiss away the tears.

  “Don’t cry, baby-girl,” I whisper.

  “I…I’m sorry. I’m not sure what’s come over me.”

  She’s so unbelievably beautiful. All her walls are down and crumbling, and in this moment I know that it will break my heart to ever let this girl go.

  “Tell me,” I say, speaking softly. “Why are you so upset?”

  She hesitates for a moment, then says, “I’m sorry. I just got so overcome with the idea that you could have been in that house. That you could have been killed, kidnapped, or hurt. I know you’re safe. I feel you in my arms, but the idea that someone would try to harm you…” She doesn’t need to finish her statement. I can see in her eyes that she’s truly shaken up by the idea of losing me.

  “Oh, Cami. Please, don’t cry. I am here, safe, with you. The only place I need or want to be.” I hug her tighter to show her that I really am here.

  “I’m really sorry about your stuff.”

  At first I don’t understand what she means. Then it dawns on me.

  “I had nothing in that house that cannot be replaced. A few pairs of shoes and a few pairs of jeans, at best. The one thing I learned early on was to keep minimal possessions and to keep them with me at all times. I travel with what’s most important to me, and the rest is expendable.”

  “That’s good,” she says softly.

  I lean down and lift her up. She wraps her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck. I kiss her. A chaste kiss, meant to be comforting. Deep kisses will just lead us right back into bed, and we have work to do.

  For a moment we stare into each others eyes, communicating without words. With her eyes she lets me know that she is very happy and that she, too, feels that this is a turning point with us.

  Cami says, “We have work to do.”

  “Just one more kiss, then I’ll let you down.” I smile against her lips and kiss her again. And then again, more deeply, dancing dangerously close to distraction.

  Cami giggles against my lips and squeezes me closer and tighter to her body. I can feel her nipples, hard as a rock, pressed against my chest. So not helping, I think. I have been dying to lay her back out on this bed since we left the bathroom.

  “All right, back to work, my little bear,” she says.

  I blush. “Bear, huh?”

  She grins. “Yes. Bear.”

  I smile at her blunt statement. “Where does bear come from?”

  She blushes now. “Papa bear, teddy bear, cuddle bear, you growl like a bear, and most of all, I find a comfort in your arms that I never knew I needed.”

  “I love it.”

  I kiss her again. She giggles and tries to squirm from my grasp, but I have no desire to let her go. I sit down in the desk chair with her straddling me.

  “You know what happened the last time we were in this position,” she says.

  Ah, yes. I remember very clearly.

  “Go ahead. I can work distracted,” I tease.

  “I’d like to test that theory, but I’m afraid of my inability to control myself. I don’t want to end up distracting us both so we get nothing done. Because believe me, I would capture your attention.”

  Oh, how right she is.

  “Too late,” I tease her back, and she giggles.

  She reaches around me and grabs her iPad off the desk.

  “You use the laptop, and I’ll do what I need to on the iPad.”

  She squirms her way off of my lap. Just before she walks away, she reaches out and runs her hand over my sex. A promise of more to come.

  Cami

  I climb up on the bed and prop my head up against the headboard, bringing my knees up so that I have a place to rest the iPad. When my email comes up, I have seventeen new messages, all either from Trinity or Vincent regarding the sto
ries about Layla’s affair and the fire at her house. My heart constricts again to think that he might have been caught in that fire instead of safe here with me.

  An email from Vincent catches my attention, completely different in tone and content than the rest. As I read it, a huge smile spreads across my face.

  Tristan, who must not be doing a very good job of getting to work, asks, “What has you smiling so much, Sweets?”

  “Oh, nothing. Just you.”

  He snorts. “What about me?”

  “I received an email from Vincent about ten minutes ago with some very good news for you.”

  “What does it say?” I can tell he’s trying to keep his excitement in check.

  “Well, Vincent has not only received clearance to send you a script, but he has received four additional requests to schedule auditions.”

  I watch as the smile on his face spreads wider and wider until he’s literally grinning from ear to ear.

  “Cami!” he shouts. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

  “That depends, Tristan. Should I be kidding?” My smile is just as wide as his.

  “Do you realize what this means?” he says. “It’s not over. It’s not over. Oh my God, Cami, it’s not over!” He’s shouting now, his legs bouncing up and down in his chair. “I’m not done. I can keep doing this?”

  I nod, and he leaps up off the chair and runs toward the bed. He dives on top of it like it’s a pool, hitting the bed with such force that I shoot straight into the air. I squeal as I bounce back down.

  “Come ‘ere, woman!” he growls as he grabs at my arm to pull me close to him. He pulls me around so that my face is upside down under his, with my feet resting on the headboard.

  “I could kiss you right now.”

  “So what’s stopping you?”

  It takes us the rest of the day to get things straightened out with both the police and the press. We order a late dinner up to the room, and afterwards decide to go for a swim. The sun has set and the outside lights flicker on.

  The pool is illuminated with LED lights that change color between blues, greens and purples. It’s stunning to watch, and even more stunning to be swimming in when they change.

  While Tristan’s changing, I find Tyson in his bedroom. I knock lightly.

  “Come in,” I hear him say.

  Turning the knob and peeking my head in the door, I watch as he puts down the book he’s reading, only catching a small glimpse of the title on the cover, which is bright orange.

  “Hi, Ty,” I whisper. He’s surprised at seeing me. “Sorry. I don’t mean to bother you.”

  “No worries, ma’am…Cami. What can I do for you?”

  “First of all, you can relax. I would like you to join Tristan and me out at the pool.”

  “That’s really not necessa-”

  I cut him off. “I won’t hear of it. You’ve been working around the clock for the last week and then some. Take a load off. Nothing will happen to us up here, and you’ll be closer to us anyway. I’m going to order a couple bottles of wine and champagne. Anything specific you enjoy?”

  “Apple juice.” He smiles like he’s hiding a private joke.

  “With vodka?”

  He laughs. “No, Cami. I don’t drink.”

  Did he not understand? “I want you to relax and have a good time with us. There must be some type of alcohol you like.”

  “No, really, Cami, I don’t drink. On or off duty. Apple juice will be fine, and I will happily join you guys.”

  “All right, Ty. I’ll have some apple juice, wine, and champagne brought up. Anything else?” He shakes his head. “See you in a bit.”

  When I finish the room service order, I call down to front desk to see if I have any messages. The concierge informs me that two messages were delivered to my suite downstairs, one first thing this morning and one just a couple of hours ago.

  Odd. Anyone who knows where I am has my cell phone number.

  “Can you have the concierge who delivers my order to the penthouse grab the messages from my suite on his way up?”

  “Certainly, Ms. Enders. One more thing while I have you on the phone. I was the one that took the second message not that long ago. I informed the caller that we had no guests by the name of Ms. Enders, and she was quite insistent that I was mistaken. When I refused to transfer her call to any of the rooms, she grew aggressive. I just thought I should warn you.”

  My heart stops.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Tristan

  I’m sitting on the pool’s edge, patiently waiting for Cami to join me. The water is warmer than it was yesterday afternoon, no doubt due to the warmth of the day. The lights emanating around the sides give a great ambient glow. I’m excited to see Cami’s porcelain skin glowing elegantly under these lights.

  I hear a noise behind me and I turn. I’m surprised to see not Cami but Tyson in his swim trunks.

  “Hey, man, what’s up?”

  “Nada. Cami pretty much ordered me to join you guys tonight.” He looks rather sheepish in his explanation.

  “Good. You need a night off.”

  “You had no idea she was going to do that, did you?” He smiles.

  I chuckle. “No, I didn’t, but I don’t care. She’s welcome to do as she pleases, and I’m happy to have you hanging out. Where is she?”

  “She was ordering room service. Wine, champagne, and apple juice, I think.”

  “You and your apple juice.” I chuckle. “One day soon I will get you drunk.”

  He laughs, shaking his head. “Don’t hold your breath on that one.”

  “Watch me,” I tease.

  I know that Tyson never drinks, but he never drinks because he’s always on duty. I’m going to make a point of giving him some much-needed time off once the other two bodyguards get here tomorrow. They can keep an eye on us, and Tyson can enjoy himself.

  “Are you excited about tomorrow?” I ask.

  Cami had shown me a picture of Jolene from her Facebook page. She’s quite the looker, with some big, beautiful green eyes. Six feet tall, too, which is still shorter than Tyson. She looks like she needs someone tall and strong to hold her.

  Tyson just shrugs. He takes a step into the pool and slowly wades into the water. “I’m trying not to get my hopes up.”

  “I can completely understand.” I pause for effect. “I saw a picture of her today.”

  His head whips around to look at me in complete surprise, “Oh yeah? Care to share?”

  “Nope!” I laugh, throwing my head back.

  He gives me a dubious smile. “You’re an ass, Trey.”

  I laugh harder. “No, not an ass. Just letting your imagination run wild for another twenty-four hours. I must say, I don’t think you will be disappointed.” I smile knowingly and he blushes slightly.

  “In all honesty, I’m more nervous than anything. It’s been years since I even considered entertaining a woman, let alone dated one.” He looks down, a bit shy. I must say, a shy Tyson is a bit of shocker.

  “You’ll be fine. Just be yourself and that will say it all.”

  I hear the clinking of glasses behind me. Tyson perks up a bit, and I turn my head to see Cami. In one hand she’s carrying three champagne glasses upside down between her fingers. In her other hand are three bottles, one that looks like Cristal, one a wine bottle, and the third plain old apple juice.

  I smile at her, but the smile she gives me in return is strained. Something’s off. Then I notice a couple small pieces of paper in the hand holding the glasses.

  “Hi, baby. You all right?”

  “I need a drink first.”

  I nod as she comes over to me. I take the bottles from her and she sits down next to me, dangling her feet in the water. I look for the corkscrew and see it’s hooked into her bikini top. Hmm, guess she ran out of places to carry it. I reach over and grab it, brushing my hand against her nipple.

  She gasps. “Behave yourself,” she breathes.

  �
�Impossible,” I retort.

  I twist open the apple juice, grab a glass from Cami, and pour. Tyson sloshes over to us, and I hand him the glass.

  “Thanks,” he says to me, then turns slightly toward Cami. “Thank you, Cami.”

  “Of course, though I wish you would have some champagne or wine with us.”

  Tyson chuckles and shakes his head. “No, thanks.”

  When I pop the cork on the champagne it goes flying toward the center of the pool. I chuckle as I move the pour-over to run onto Cami’s lap. She starts laughing and I bring it up higher so that it runs over her breasts. She tilts her head back, and I pour some into her mouth. She’s laughing as she tries to swallow, and I watch the blush spread across her cheeks. No doubt because Tyson’s watching with interest.

  “There,” I say. “You’ve had your drink, now what’s bothering you?”

  She holds up the pieces of paper I’d noticed earlier.

  “There were two messages delivered to my suite downstairs today, one this morning and one just a couple of hours ago. The concierge downstairs took the second message and felt it necessary to warn me that it was rather rough.” She takes a deep breath. “I haven’t read them yet. I brought them with me.”

  She hands me the two pieces of paper.

  “You want me to read them?”

  She nods. Taking the corkscrew back from me, she opens the bottle of wine and pours some into a champagne glass, then pours me a glass of Cristal.

  I look at the folded pieces of paper. On the backside of each are the date and time of the message.

  I open the one from this morning:

  Gentleman caller for Cameron Enders. Caller informed no such guest is staying at the hotel. Caller insisted that I was mistaken, aggressively advised me to transfer him to Ms. Enders immediately. When I refused several times, caller requested a reservation for Wednesday, June 13th. When told there was no vacancy, caller hung up. Call was routed through Hawaii, indicating a call originating in the U.S.

  “Sweets, besides Mick, do you know of any other men who know you’re here?”

 

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