by Annie Jones
He stroked his chin and hummed as if he were seriously considering that line of action.
She glowered at him.
He pushed up from the driver’s seat and headed to the back of the RV to avoid her scrutiny “I’ve scheduled a meeting with an FBI agent and a park official. They should arrive in the next fifteen minutes or so.”
The RV swayed slightly under the weight of his movements to collect his phone, his notes, and his composure. Finally, he pushed open the side door and climbed outside. Even as he inhaled the humid air, rich with the smell of the earth and the blossoming foliage, his shoulders tensed. Behind him he could hear Julia shifting about in the RV. Then he felt her standing in the doorway directly behind him.
“Can’t I at least ask you a few questions?” she demanded.
“You can ask.” He tried to shrug, but the bonds of his clenched muscles would not allow more than a jerking shirk.
“Okay.” She remained in the doorway, standing over him.
He could feel the heat of her body, hear the rustling of her cotton shirt each time she snatched at the hem. He smelled her vanilla-scented skin. Her every breath pricked at his alerted senses.
“I’ll ask,” she said. “For starters, why didn’t you just let the FBI go in after Shaughnessy as soon as you had a solid tip of where he was? Why did you have to get here first instead of letting them take him and taking it from there? Why handle even the least likely steps personally?”
Cameron’s mind flashed back to that moment when he had entered the alley, his gun drawn. He knew a stranger, a well- trained agent of the law, would not hesitate, as he had, to use deadly force against a kidnapper. He exhaled a hard puff of air. “Because it’s personal, Julia. A family matter as well as a criminal act.”
“Is that it?” she asked with not a twinge of judgment in her voice. “Or did you want to be the first one to get to Shaughnessy because you think you can still reason with him? You say you are going through all these convoluted steps to catch him but deep down, I think you really hope to save him.”
And she had once accused him of finding her transparent. Julia Reed had seen right through him, probably for longer than the trained agent in him would want to admit. For all his bluster and bravado about being one step ahead of people, knowing more than they knew about themselves, he had failed to see that a kind soul with a heart for rescuing the wounded would see beneath that his calculated charm to the man Cameron had tried to hard to conceal.
He hung his head. He could not meet her eyes as he heaved a world-weary sigh and confessed, “He’s like my own brother to me. Like an uncle to Devin. Tis the gold that’s blinded him to his own better qualities, that’s all. But maybe I can still reach him.”
She put her hand on the tight plane of his back and the warmth sank deep, deeper than a mere physical touch should. She leaned close and asked, “And what if you can’t reach him?”
He searched out a spot deep in the thick tangle of trees and underbrush, his gaze fixing so hard on the distance that his eyes ached. “Then I’ll do what I must.”
“That’s why you didn’t want me to stay in Cincinnati, even with an armed guard. Because you didn’t want anyone else to encounter Shaughnessy You have to do it yourself.”
He nodded, not shifting his focus.
“I understand.”
“You do?” He twisted his head until his chin brushed against the fabric of his red shirt.
“You doubt that the queen of control doesn’t understand the need to handle things your way, in your time, on your terms because you see them as your responsibility?” Laughter and disbelief layered the rhetorical question. They shared a tender smile then she broke eye contact for only a moment. Her gaze going to the woods, to her feet then finding his eyes again, she whispered, “Cameron, there’s one more thing I have to know.”
He braced himself for what she might ask. “What’s that?”
She wet her lips and held his gaze. “Were you… were you using me as bait to lure Shaughnessy out of hiding?”
The wind hurled dust and bits of dried leaves around the open space where he had parked. The late afternoon sun hung low, a blaze of orange and pink above the hilltops plush with trees full with first buds of spring. Cameron shaded his eyes with one hand. “I knew Michael would never hurt you, Julia.”
“There you go again, avoiding the question.” She slapped her hand to her blue-jeaned thigh. “It’s a fairly straightforward question, Cameron. Just give me a straightforward answer. Did you use me as bait—yes or no?”
“Yes.” He blew out a long, unburdening sigh. “Or no.”
She groaned through clenched teeth.
An easy laughter rolled from his constricted chest. He turned on the heel of his boot to face her. “It’s just not a yes or no proposition, Julia. If you’re asking did I know that Michael would make the connection between you and the gold? Yes. Yes, I did. Maybe in that way I used you as bait.”
Julia leaned her hip against the door frame, her arms crossed over her chest. She dropped her chin, caught him in an expectant gaze, and waited.
“If you’re asking did I know that he would come for you? Then, no. I would never have put you in that kind of danger.” The grass under his boots swished as he shifted his weight. “But from the moment you told me about your meeting with Michael and the fact that he had taken down your license plate number, you became wrapped up in the conflict.”
“My license plate?”
She was so savvy in so many ways and so innocent in others. No wonder he found himself always in conflict about whether to shield her from the realities of this situation or share what he knew and stand back as she tackled it. This time, however, he had no qualms about what to say. “That’s how Michael found your house, Julia.”
She frowned. “He could do that?”
“Anyone could do that.”
It took a second for that to sink in. He suspected she might just now be realizing how vulnerable she was even throughout her normal day. “That gives me the creeps, thinking a man like Shaughnessy could just look into my private records like that.”
“I guess this would be a good time for a little confession of my own,” Cameron said, as he realized that despite all she knew about him she had not put the pieces together. “Before I walked into St. Patrick’s Homeless Shelter a bit more than a week ago, I pulled together a file on you. Medical. Work. Personal. I know more about your dirty laundry than your own dry cleaner, which, in case you don’t believe me, is Speedy Clean on the comer of—”
“I get it.” She held her hand up.
“Are you angry with me, sweet Julia?”
She cocked her head and seemed to search his face.
“You have to recall that I knew you’d taken the gold almost immediately,” he rushed to explain. “I had to know what manner of person I was dealing with.”
Her cheeks glowed a charming shade of pink. She nodded. “I understand. I just—well, I cringe to think what you might have discovered about me.”
His heart warmed to know she would not hold the necessity of his work against him. He reached out to place his hand along her cheek. “Sweet, sweet Julia. I learned more about you the day I looked into your eyes than I ever did from any hit on a computer search.”
Not far behind them the rumble of a car jostling over the rugged terrain drew their attention.
“That’s probably the men I’m meeting with, but just in case, why don’t you slip back inside?” He cupped his hand under her chin then slid his palm down her neck. It was far too intimate a gesture between a man and a woman he should be sheltering from harm.
She did not shy away from it. She tipped her head back. She looked deeply into his eyes.
He took in the scent of coming spring and that hint of vanilla that spoke to him of Julia. He slid his hand slowly down her arm, taking her hand in his. “After this meeting we’ll know if it’s safe for you to go to the lodge, then you can get some dinner. And later? When it’
s nice and dark—”
She wet her lips. “Yes?”
He wanted to promise her passion, romance, losing themselves in each other’s arms and… and other things he had no business even thinking about with Julia. He let go of her hand, brushed the tip of her nose with one finger and smiled. “We’ll go see the moonbow.”
*
The moonbow. The very word evoked something compelling and awe inspiring.
Julia smiled as she zipped up her red jacket and grabbed the key to the room they had gotten as what Cameron called a second base of command. She suspected that he had decided he needed some time away from her. In her head she knew that made sense under the circumstances but in her heart she sort of wanted to hope he didn’t trust himself alone with her.
She stole one last look in the mirror to make sure she didn’t have any of the evening’s delicious dinner stuck between her front teeth. After dinner in the room—a safety precaution—Julia couldn’t wait for some fresh air. That thought alone made her marvel. She had lived so much of her life in the halls of the shelter and the streets that connected that place to the house she retreated to only to change clothes and sleep, she marveled that a day’s distance between her and that life had had such a profound effect on her outlook.
She whisked back her hair and hurried out. Her sad little loafers slapped a happy cadence on the floor as she went on her way. Despite her misgivings about coming, she couldn’t wait to hike the trail and see the wonders of the mix of moon and mist.
It didn’t hurt that Cameron would be at her side to view the wonder of the moonbow. She rushed down the staircase of the lodge. She and Cameron had arranged to meet a half hour before the prime viewing time.
She practically skipped across the main lobby to the adjoining sitting room, her attention going to the fireplace dominating the scene.
She had pictured coming downstairs in the beautiful lodge to find Cameron leaning with one elbow on the mantle, beaming that thousand-watt grin at her. From somewhere in the lodge, music from a grand piano would swell and fill the air around them. He’d wear one of those sweaters, made of the fine Irish wool that set off the healthy coloring of his face. His hair, tousled just enough to hint at casual masculine disarray, would gleam golden in the firelight. And his eyes—those eyes that had first drawn her to him, those dazzling green Irish eyes that could win the heart of any woman in the room—would shine only for her.
She had to laugh at her own romanticized fantasy. Still, her pulse did pick up a beat. Her breathing grew quick and shallow. She bit her lower lip in anticipation. She tossed back her hair, squared her shoulders, and walked into the sitting room.
Empty
That’s what she found, an empty room—save the huge chair turned away from the door and the more typical furnishings. No fire. No music. No Cameron.
He’d never been late before. Not that she’d known him so very long, but from what she did know, he was not the type to arrive fashionably late. Something, she decided with a haste bordering on panic, must have happened to him.
A dozen scenarios darted through her thoughts. Could he have gotten a tip on Shaughnessy’s whereabouts and gone after him? Surely he would have left a note. Could he have merely made this date to keep her busy while he went ahead to stake out the moonbow? Not if he wanted to survive the trip home with her, he wouldn’t. Her mind honed in on a third, more terrifying possibility
Shaughnessy had gotten to Cameron. She balled the cuffs of her jacket in her fists. Her heart hammered in her chest, her throat, her temples. If something had happened to Cameron, Julia realized, she was on her own. She had to make a plan, she had to find help, she had to—
“Surprise,” a voice cloaked in a whisper and an Irish accent came from the shadows.
It did surprise her and yet it also seemed woven into the fabric of her thoughts. Shaughnessy was a dangerous man and Julia was alone and vulnerable. But not helpless.
She swung around, ready to push whoever was behind her aside and run. From the comer of her eye, she caught a flicker of movement from the big chair. Her alarm flamed higher. She closed her eyes and shoved hard. The shuffling of feet, paper crinkling, and a loud thump answered her maneuver.
“Whoa.” Cameron’s strong hands clasped her arms. “Julia? What’s wrong? Where are you going?”
She opened her eyes slowly to peer up into the eyes that could see right into her heart.
“Cameron,” she murmured.
“Are you okay?” He bent at the knees to level his gaze with hers.
She wet her lips and nodded, a little embarrassed at her overreaction to the situation. That’s when she noticed the man in a blue jacket and jeans lurking just over her shoulder. She flinched as she twisted to glance back.
At the same moment, Cameron nodded a greeting to the man.
“You had this man shadowing me?” She put her hand on Cameron’s green parka.
“It’s nighttime, Julia. You don’t cast a shadow.”
“You know what I’m asking.”
“I know,” he said. They stood with the gazes locked but he did not elaborate. After a moment, he smiled as if this evening were nothing out of the ordinary and said, “We have to get going if we expect to see the moonbow.”
“One day, you’re going to accidentally give me a straight answer, and then what will you do?”
He arched an eyebrow. “Pick you up from a dead faint?”
She wanted to stay irritated with him, but she just couldn’t. She laughed quietly and shook her head. “I suppose so.”
“But before that happens, and before we get out of here, I have a little gift for you.” He bent down to snatch up the shiny paper shopping bag tipped over by his feet.
“Oh, no, Cameron.” She waved her hands and pulled her shoulders back. “I don’t’ think it would be right for me to accept a present from you.”
He thrust the bag toward her. “Well, you had better take this one, lass, if you count on going with me on the moonbow trail tonight.”
She cocked her head at him. The bag rustled as she reached inside to pull out a square box with both hands. “What is this?”
“Open it and see.”
She pulled at the top of the box, and it flipped open and tumbled to the floor.“Hiking boots.”
“Hmm.” He dragged one knuckle down his jaw. “I’ve heard that when a person repeats what they’ve received, it means they don’t like it.”
“No, no.” She shook her head so fast that a trembling curl dropped across the bridge of her nose. “I like them. I—like them.”
“You need them.” He tapped the toe of his own hiking boot against the ratty edge of her loafer. ‘You can’t go hiking a trail in the dark on a damp spring evening in those.”
“It’s very thoughtful of you, Cameron.” She meant that. “But I have to insist that I repay you for these.”
“You can repay me by wearing them. That way I won’t worry so much.” He took the box and lowered himself to one knee. His large hands wrapped around one of her ankles as he slipped her old loafer off her foot.
She looked down on the halo of golden curls on his head. “You worry about me?”
He slipped her other loafer off, his hands warm and gentle. He didn’t answer her question.
She watched him help her fit into her new shoes. The sight made her feel cherished and special and—watched.
The man in the blue windbreaker folded his hands in front of him, anchoring his feet shoulder width apart.
She didn’t know if it was knowing this man had been watching her without her knowledge or the way she had imagined the evening going that made her want to slip away from his constant scrutiny. But she wanted it more than she knew how to rightfully express. “If you really worry about me, then you’d worry about my feelings as well as my feet, right?”
“In theory,” he muttered, wrestling with the tongue of one boot to get it to do as he willed.
“Then how about this?” She wiggled her ankle
and shifted her foot and the boot conformed perfectly. “I’ll accept the shoes if you’ll accept my feelings.”
The new laces hissed as he pulled them taut.
“Take my proposition or take these hiking shoes off.” Cameron O’Dea isn’t the only one capable of the big bluff, Julia thought. “What will it be?”
He tied the laces into a stiff knot.
“What is it you want, sweet Julia?”
“To go out on this hike with you alone.” She glanced at the man meant to play bodyguard to her. “All alone.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Thank you for giving my bodyguard a few hours off. I think we’re old enough to go on a moonlight hike without a chaperone.” Julia’s new hiking boots crushed a twig on the well-traveled trail.
The brittle snap rang in Cameron’s ears. Every whoosh of a branch, every tripping scuttle of a loose stone, every voice from some other hiker on the path registered, setting his teeth on edge. “Much as I appreciate the privacy your request granted us, lass, I can’t say I’m entirely comfortable with these circumstances.”
“You mean because of Shaughnessy?”
He took one long stride and came up directly behind her. Using his sheer physical advantage, he pulled her back, pressing their bodies together so that he could whisper in her ear unheard by others. “Don’t utter that name again, lass. Not until it’s over and done with. You never know who might hear. Do you understand?”
She nodded. Her thick hair rustled, the fine curls tickling his cheek and nose. He felt her tense muscles strain against him.
He kept his voice a gravel-throated growl. “Are you afraid?”
He heard her gulp down a swallow. Felt the tremble of her lips as she wet them. “A little.”