Leather, Lace and Rock-N-Roll

by Mia Dymond

“When we came back, she drank some water and the glass of wine. I only sipped mine.”

  Max didn’t answer and the questions stopped. Cameron breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back against the seat.

  Once at the hospital, Max opened the door, stepped out, and scooped Rachel from Hawke’s lap. “I’ll be back for you two.”

  Cameron shook her head. “We’re right behind you.”

  “I said I’ll be back.”

  Cameron glanced at Hawke then back at Max. “I’m not letting her go in alone.”

  All of a sudden, Joe Cool blew his cool all over her. “So help me God, you come out of that car and I’ll turn you over my knee and paddle your ass here and now.”

  Hawke inhaled a sharp breath. Cameron sat motionless, her eyes wide. Max slammed the door.

  Before she could formulate an appropriate response to his threat, other than paddle me, please, he returned and flung open the door.

  “Out.”

  Cameron left the car with Hawke behind her. Max shuffled them through the Emergency Room and then into a private waiting room in one corner.

  “As soon as the doctor takes a look at her, we can go in.”

  Cameron crossed her knees and swung one leg as she listened to Hawke and Max and tried not to panic.

  “What do you think, Max?” Hawke’s normally smooth, husky tone held a slight quiver.

  “I’m thinking drugs.”

  Hawke released a rough breath. “What the hell?”

  Max shrugged. “She can’t even stand straight. Either that or she’s allergic to something.”

  Cameron’s leg stilled. She glanced down at her knees and noticed her earlier movement had inched the hem of her dress to her upper thigh. She stole a quick glance at both men. Hawke’s head was now lowered in his hands. Max, however, appeared to be staring straight at her. Those sexy dark lenses prevented her from knowing for sure. With no other choice, she wiggled the fabric back to its rightful place at mid-thigh.

  She cleared her throat. “All those people know and respect Rachel. Why would one of them drug her?”

  Hawke raised his head. “The drug might not have been meant for her, Cameron.”

  Cameron felt her eyes widen to at least quarter size. “You?”

  Hawke nodded.

  She looked at Max. “Really?”

  Max echoed Hawke’s nod. “There’s some sick fu-, uh people, in the world.”

  Cameron’s body began to tremble. She stood and stepped to the door. “I’m going to check on her.”

  The door snapped shut behind her. Max waited three full seconds then stood and cracked the door, just to be sure the pint sized firecracker was out of earshot. When he couldn’t spot her, he eased the door closed.

  “Rachel’s the target, no question in my mind.”

  Hawke scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Diego doesn’t have the decoy yet.”

  “True, but he may already suspect something.”

  “I don’t think she realizes what’s going on. She’s a pawn, that’s all.”

  “You’re supposed to have evidence to back that up.”

  “Working on it.” Hawke leaned his head back against the top of the chair. “What happens when Diego finds out the package is empty? He won’t hesitate to kill her, Max.”

  “You know what you have to do.”

  Hawk lifted his head and glared. “No.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “She finally trusts me.”

  “Try again.”

  “She’ll never understand.”

  “This is a mission. You knew the repercussions going in.”

  Hawke released a hard breath. “There has to be another way.”

  “There’s not. I suggest you do it now before someone else makes the decision for you.”

  “I will soon.” Hawke scrubbed a hand down his jaw. “Should I go after Cameron? She’s about to fall apart.”

  “Give her some space, Hawke. It won’t be long until she’s back to normal.” Max released a heavy sigh. “God help us all.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The annoying buzz of the alarm clock forced Rachel to unglue her eyelids and open her eyes enough to realize she was pinned to the mattress by a pile of blankets that weighed at least a ton. Puzzled, she attempted to roll to one side without success. Why on Earth was she wrapped like a mummy? Last time she checked, it was July and at least ninety degrees on a cool night. Desperate for silence, she finally laid a hand across her stomach and then maneuvered it up and out the top of the blankets. Luckily, the alarm was only an arm’s length away. She gave it a quick slap and immediately the room was quiet again.

  Now wide awake and beginning to feel suffocated, Rachel attempted to stick out one leg and found it impossible. For one foggy moment she wondered if this was some sort of feeble attempt to prevent her escape from the bedroom. She took a deep breath and tried again, this time shoving her leg with brute force. Five pink toenails shone in the early morning sunlight.

  In an attempt to figure out how she ended up somewhat of a prisoner in her own bed, Rachel gave her brain a mental shake. Immediately, fragments of memory assaulted her. The gala. Hawke’s challenge. The wine. She frowned. Too much wine? She shook her head. She only drank one glass. The hospital. Rachel’s eyes widened. Yes, she went to the hospital last night. Something about the wine. She forced herself to focus. Alcohol poisoning? And then she remembered. Her drink had been laced. With what, she didn’t know. In fact, it was quite possible no one said.

  One person had information she needed. She gave the alarm clock a nasty stare while she reached for the phone beside it. A couple of more hours of sleep would’ve been nice, especially since no one expected her to work this week. The plastic handset slid across her palm and Rachel realized the blankets had to go. She tapped out Hawke’s number on the keypad, tucked the phone between her ear and shoulder, and then rolled the blankets down past her stomach like a set of blueprints while she waited for him to answer.

  Static and what sounded like angry mumbling greeted her after the third ring.

  “Good morning,” she said sweetly.

  “Rachel?” Sleep only made the rasp in his voice sexier. “It’s 6:00 in the morning.”

  “Sorry, my alarm was set. I usually have to get up to work.”

  “Oh, I’m up.” Hawke snickered. “It might just take me a few minutes to work.”

  Despite herself, she couldn’t help but wonder just exactly how long it would take him to work. She imagined him propped up in bed, the pillows plumped behind him, one leg bent at the knee and the other extended. One arm bent behind his head, the other resting across his hip. Relaxed, sexy, and waiting. For her.

  “How do you feel this morning?”

  Rachel bit her lip to prevent a brutally naughty answer from slipping out. “Not so bad,” she answered instead, “except I don’t remember much.”

  “Do you remember anything?”

  “Some, but I’d hoped you could fill me in.”

  “Really? I figured since Cameron was there, she took care of that.”

  “Cameron’s here?”

  She stayed to make sure you slept.”

  Rachel suddenly understood the blanket prison. “What else do I need to know?”

  A pregnant pause resonated between them and for a minute she thought he’d hung up. And then a rustling sound echoed over the line. Her libido went on full alert. The thought of crisp linens slithering over the hard lines of Hawke’s body made her breasts swell and her body burn.

  She squeezed her eyes closed. “Hawke, are you naked?”

  “Yes, aren’t you?”

  “No!” She smashed her legs together in an effort to ward off a now very pesky tingle up and down the inside of her thighs.

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t sleep naked.”

  “Too bad.”

  “Why? It’s not like you’d see me or anything.”

  “No?”

  She sighed. That was a rheto
rical question and he knew it but she surrendered anyway. “Okay, maybe.”

  “You’re still in bed?”

  “Yes.” Mostly because she was trapped.

  “How much longer are you gonna be there?”

  “I was just about to get out.”

  “So...you wearing the slinky white nightie?”

  She hesitated, not quite sure how to interpret his question. Hoping her assumption was correct, she grinned and glanced down at her nightgown, this time white cotton and quite modest. “A red, lace teddy,” she lied.

  “How many buttons?”

  Oh...phone sex. Why not? “No buttons,” she taunted, “hooks.”

  She heard his breath hitch.

  “Hooks?”

  “Yes, four, right down the center.”

  His voice took on a whole new husky tone. “Unhook them.”

  “I’ll fall out.”

  “I know.”

  Rachel exhaled in defeat. This whole seduction routine was just making matters worse. “Okay, I give. I’m not wearing a red, lace teddy.”

  “Nuh-huh. You started this, now we’re going to finish.”

  She switched the phone to her other ear. “I can’t ad lib, Hawke,” she huffed.

  “Yes you can.” His voice grew heavy.

  “Cameron is in the other room.”

  “So?”

  “You’re—”

  ”Hard as a rock, sweetheart. The least you can do is give me something to think about in the shower.”

  Shudders of pleasure raced through her body as she imagined running her hands up and down the length of his erection. Stroking and squeezing while he encouraged her with naughty words whispered in her ear. She scrubbed a hand across her forehead. This wasn’t exactly what she planned.

  “The hooks, Rachel,” he prompted.

  “Fine,” she relented, “there. I unhooked them.”

  “Sorry, babe, you can do better than that.”

  Rachel shook her head at his persistence. Okay, wiseguy, you asked for it.

  She gave a breathy whimper. “I’ve unhooked them now, Hawke. My breasts are exposed, screaming for your touch.”

  “Do you want me to touch?”

  Yes, yes, yes, a thousand times, yes. “I’ll die if you don’t.”

  “With my hands,” he countered, “or with my mouth?”

  The phone slid from her hold and banged the floor. With a pure adrenaline rush, Rachel tossed the blankets from her legs, threw herself on her stomach, and looked over the side of the bed. Luckily, it lay within her reach and she could retrieve it with little effort. Hopefully she didn’t wake Cameron with all the commotion, but at least she’d have a few seconds to recover.

  Rachel pressed the phone back to her ear. “First your hands.”

  “I remember what happens when I use my mouth.”

  She let desire guide her. “Oh yes,” she said over an exhaled sigh, “and while you touch me, I’ll touch you.”

  She heard a muffled curse cross the line. “And I won’t use my hands.”

  He released a tortured groan. “You can’t.”

  “Oh, yes I can. I want to return the favor.”

  This time his groan turned to a growl. “Uncle.”

  “Are you sure?” Rachel suddenly felt very empowered as a vixen. “You won’t be disappointed.”

  “Stop, Rachel.” His tone was somewhere between demanding and well, begging. “I want this to be personal.”

  Rachel gave a feigned sigh. “If you insist.” Hawke’s momentary plea for time-out brought her back to her senses. “Besides, I didn’t call to get you all hot and bothered, I just wanted to find out more about last night.”

  “Why don’t I bring Max and a cup of coffee and we’ll talk?”

  Something in his response told her she might not appreciate knowing. “That bad?” she said lightly. “I realize I was under the influence of something, but did I dance naked around the punch bowl?”

  Hawke released a hearty laugh. “I would’ve never allowed that to happen. I just want an excuse to see you.”

  Rachel couldn’t have stopped her next thought if she wanted to. And I just want an excuse to have wild, naked, monkey sex with you. She cleared her throat and her mind. “Okay, give me a few minutes to dress.”

  “You better hurry. Since my shower will be cold, I won’t be long.”

  Rachel hummed to herself as she descended the stairs. Cameron would be so proud. Silently patting herself on the back, she entered the living area barely able to contain her excitement. Cameron sat cross-legged in the floor with her sketchbook.

  “Good morning.”

  Cameron spun around and placed a hand to the base of her neck. “Good grief, Rachel! Next time stomp down the stairs or something. You scared the snot out of me.”

  “That’s what you get for keeping me prisoner.”

  “I didn’t have a choice. How do you feel?”

  “Fine. Except I couldn’t move when I woke up. You know it’s July, right?”

  Cameron shrugged. “The doctor said you would probably be chilled. Besides, you must have slept awful hard last night.”

  “Why?”

  Cameron cocked an eyebrow. “I thought you fell out of bed this morning.”

  “I dropped the phone.”

  Cameron’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure you’re okay? King Know-it-all seemed to think you’d be loopy for awhile.”

  “Believe me, I’m fine.” Rachel smiled so big she thought her face would crack. “I just talked to Hawke.”

  Cameron glanced at her watch. “He was awake? It’s not even 7:00.”

  “Wide awake. We had phone sex.”

  Cameron giggled as she arranged colored pencils in a line. “I’ve created a monster.”

  Rachel lowered herself to the sofa. “I really like him, Cameron.”

  “I told you.” Cameron grinned. “Just don’t make it easy.”

  Rachel shook her head at Cameron’s advice. Too late. Denying him now would be next to impossible. Her body was just too darn addicted. “Have you finished the sketches?”

  Cameron handed Rachel her sketch pad. “How about this for the second floor?”

  “Cameron, that’s great!” she said, “Hawke will be impressed.”

  Cameron nodded with a slight crease in her forehead. “Hopefully. He doesn’t seem real comfortable with me.”

  “He’s just nervous. Putting down roots is new to him.”

  “Do you think he’s really serious about that?”

  Rachel answered with complete honesty. “I really think so.”

  “Maybe you have something to do with that,” Cameron hinted.

  Rachel dismissed Cameron’s suggestion. “He had plans before me.”

  Cameron gave a mischievous smile while she rolled her pencils with the palm of one hand. “Actually, no he didn’t. You drew them.”

  Rachel yanked one springy curl. “Ha ha.” She handed the sketchbook back to Cameron. “But the joke’s on you. Hawke and Max are on their way over.”

  Cameron didn’t even bat an eyelash. “I figured they couldn’t leave us alone.”

  “I need to know what happened last night. Besides the fact that someone drugged me.”

  Cameron’s expression softened. “Hopefully James Bond has more information. By the way, guess who Greg left with last night?” Cameron picked up a yellow pencil.

  Rachel glanced down at the drawing. “Who?”

  “Monica Kensington.”

  “Oh.” Rachel leaned down and tapped a drawing of a corner bedroom. “Make that one blue.”

  “Is that all you have to say?” Cameron slammed her book closed and tossed her pencil on the sofa table.

  Rachel frowned in confusion. “What?”

  Cameron stood, then plopped down beside Rachel on the sofa. “Monica Kensington, Queen of the Damned, left the hospital gala early with Greg Huntington, Jaydon Hawke’s manager.”

  “So?”

  “First of all,” Ca
meron began, tossing her hair over her shoulder, “Monica never leaves a society function early. Second, Greg is young enough to be her son. And third, Monica is a sneaky snake in the grass.”

  Rachel giggled. “Cameron, it’s not a big mystery. Monica just wanted to rub elbows with someone important.”

  “Maybe. But I still say there’s more to the story.”

  Rachel shrugged. “I do remember that Greg drank a lot of wine last night.”

  “There you go, then,” Cameron said smugly. “He was too drunk to keep his snake out of her grass.”

  Rachel’s eyes bulged. “No way.”

  “Way,” Cameron insisted. “I’d bet money on it.”

  Rachel moaned. “Thank you for planting that picture in my brain.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  When the gate alarm buzzed, Cameron grinned and stood. “The cavalry is here. I’ll get it.”

  Rachel giggled. Without her high heels, Cameron’s feet were amazingly quiet. “Who is it?” she heard Cameron sing into the intercom.

  “Exterminator.” Rachel shook her head at Max’s response, not sure he realized exactly what he was asking for.

  Minutes later, Rachel heard the door open and close. Cameron returned to the living room with Hawke and Max behind.

  Hawke took a seat beside her and placed a soft kiss to her lips. Rachel’s mouth watered. Her tongue shivered to ask for more. Her body hummed.

  “Do you need a few minutes alone?” Cameron drawled.

  Rachel felt her cheeks heat. Hawke just grinned. “No.” He took Rachel’s hand and pressed it to his left thigh.

  “Okay then.” Cameron sat on the neighboring loveseat and patted the cushion beside her. “Come, James, we need to hear what you have to say.”

  Rachel glanced at Max, his arms folded across his chest and his expression hidden behind shaded eyes as usual.

  “Who the hell is James?” he asked.

  Cameron lowered her voice. “Bond. James Bond.”

  Rachel couldn’t help the obnoxious giggle that slipped out of her mouth. Hawke gave her hand a quick squeeze.

  Max stood still for a full two seconds, his head turned Cameron’s direction. Although his gaze was hidden, Rachel was pretty sure it was focused right smack on Cameron. And in true Cameron fashion, her stare never wavered, her clear blue eyes daring him to respond. Rachel swallowed her giggle, now not quite sure what would happen. Even Hawke didn’t offer a response.