Outspoken Angel

by Mia Dymond

  * * *

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Mid-morning sunlight streaked through the living room window and cast a golden spotlight on Cameron as she swayed like a professional super model down the staircase. Max wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and watched in sheer delight as her short, tight red skirt slid upward and exposed the smooth skin of her thighs. Where was she going dressed like that?

  Alarm bells pierced his inner calm as he forced his eyes from her thighs and moved them down her never ending legs until they finally rested on her killer red hooker heels. His whole body pulsed and urged him to take her right then and there, on the sixth step, with her wearing nothing but the spiked temptations. Unfortunately, she wore an I’m-on-a-mission expression, one that snapped him from his lustful appreciation and back into pest control mode.

  Before she reached the bottom step, he moved forward, braced one arm against the wall, and grabbed the railing with the other. No chance of escape.

  “And just where do you think you’re going?”

  She backed up a couple of stairs and narrowed her determined, silvery blue eyes on him like a laser. “I have a meeting with a new client.”

  He squeezed the banister to restrain himself from reaching for her. “Your office isn’t finished yet.”

  She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I’m supposed to meet him at his new house.”

  His jaw locked. “Him? What’s his name?”

  “Calvin Thomas. He just bought a house here in town and he needs an interior decorator.”

  “Let me run a check on him first. Then I’ll take you.”

  She rolled her eyes at his order and swayed back toward him. “There’s no time, Your Bossiness. I’m supposed to be there in twenty minutes.” She attempted to pry his arm from the rail, stirring up the pheromones in the air as she struggled. When his arm wouldn’t budge, she let go and folded her arms under her breasts. “I’m going, with or without you.”

  Max gave himself half a second before he responded. With or without him. The woman had brass balls.

  He lifted his arm from the rail. “Give me a second, then we’ll take my truck.”

  “Why? What’s wrong with my car?”

  He grinned and stomped past her to the top of the stairs. “I like to breathe. Between your driving skills and my knees crushing my chest, it’s almost impossible.”

  Realizing he had about two minutes before she bailed, he went into the spare bedroom and added another revolver to his stash. He shook his head as he tucked the gun and a pair of handcuffs into his waistband, out of her view. Funny how important her feelings had become to him. Hell, how important she had become to him. He scrubbed his hand down the side of his face before he threw his sunglasses over his eyes and marched back downstairs. I am so screwed.

  Cameron grabbed her sketchbook and a pencil. “That was fast.”

  He opened the front door and motioned her out. “I only changed shoes once.”

  When he opened the door of the truck, she gave him a puzzled look.

  He frowned. “What’s the problem?”

  She raised her chin at the open door of the truck, then looked back down at her hip-hugging skirt.

  “I could get you a step ladder,” he offered.

  Amusement sparkled in her eyes as she called his bluff and reached for the hem of her skirt. “Or I could just hike my skirt all the way up and climb in.”

  He grasped her waist and lifted her into the truck. “Cool it, or I might change my mind about us going.” He slammed the door before she could blast him with a tongue lashing.

  As soon as he climbed in the truck and closed his door, he knew he was in trouble. Things were entirely too quiet in the passenger seat. 5..4..3..2..

  “I am not your prisoner or your property, Max.” Her lemon drop yellow curls bounced off her shoulders with each accented syllable. “I have a business to run and new clients keep me in business. So don’t even go there!”

  Pissed off at her temper tantrum, he peered at her over his sunglasses.

  “I don’t like going in blind, but I’m doing it, for you. It’s my way or none. If you refuse to cooperate, I will bring you home, even if I have to handcuff you to me. Understand?”

  Her anger seemed to dissipate at his outburst.

  “You make me hot when you act tough, Maxie.”

  A smile teased the corners of his mouth. “It’s not an act.” He started the truck. “Let’s get this over with.”

  “If you’re going to take that attitude, you might as well stay in the truck when we get there.”

  “Nice try, but it won’t work. Stuck like glue, remember?”

  She banged her head against the back of the seat and closed her eyes. “I really need an extra Spa Day.”

  He took one look at the artfully-disguised dark circles under her eyes and damn near jerked the keys from the ignition. What the hell was he doing? Neither one of them had slept in days and exhaustion was their worst enemy. She had no business leaving the house until Stone was apprehended. What he really needed to do was toss her across his knee and show her exactly who was boss. Maybe then she’d finally understand who ran this show.

  Sure she would.

  He glanced out the passenger window then turned to peer out his. Where was that son of a bitch? He gave the steering wheel a tense squeeze and looked at Cameron one last time.

  She opened one eye. “Drive, Max.”

  Against his never-fail gut feeling, he lifted one heavy boot, mashed the brake pedal, shifted into reverse, and backed out of the driveway.

  There were no vehicles in the driveway of the vacant house when they arrived. The FOR SALE sign was topped with SOLD, but the house appeared empty. Suspicion invaded his senses. No furniture, no welcoming chairs on the porch, and the front door stood wide open. A shiver of alarm skittered across the back of his neck.

  * * *

  His heart pounded in satisfaction as he watched Cameron get out of the truck and shift her skirt. He basked in his newfound confidence. That’s a good girl, come to Papa. Two seconds later, the grin slid from his face and slapped the sidewalk. The bald mammoth was supposed to stay in the truck! His plan was to grab Cameron and sneak out the back door. Until they screwed it up. Slamming his palms against the steering wheel, he drove away before his car could be spotted.

  * * *

  Max cursed under his breath and grabbed Cameron by the arm as she pranced onto the porch and headed inside the house. “What are you doing?”

  She glanced at his fingers wrapped around her skin and then gave him a silent reprimand with the lift of an eyebrow. He released his hold.

  “Thank you.” She took another step forward. “Mr. Thomas said it would be unlocked and if he wasn’t here, I should go on in and check the place out.”

  He stepped in front of her and once again prevented her movement. “Not until I search the compound.” He pushed her behind him. “Wait here. I really have a bad feeling about this.”

  “I don’t think so. I’m your shadow.”

  He drilled her with a penetrating stare. She belonged in his truck, behind the tinted windows with the doors locked. Better yet, a steel cage with several padlocks.

  He exhaled in exasperation and squeezed her shoulder. “Ten minutes.”

  He followed her to each room, opening closets and checking behind doors.

  “See, no Boogeymen,” she chided. “Mr. Thomas is just running late. Now relax, Terminator, and let me get a feel for the place.”

  The house remained deathly quiet, except for her heels clicking on the hardwood and tile floors as she flitted from room to room. He followed closely and watched her take notes, his senses on full alert. As they passed the master bedroom, a sudden thin chill crossed his spine.

  This is a trap.

  “Time’s up, Cupcake.” He took her by the elbow and steered her toward the front door.

  “No,” she said, digging in her heels. “He’ll be here any minute.”

  “We’r
e leaving. Now.”

  She shrugged his hand from her elbow and tapped one fiery red shoe. “No, we’re not.”

  His first thought was to pick her up and throw her over his shoulder, never mind her kicking and screaming. She could make as much noise as she wanted, it would only take two minutes tops to subdue her. His fingers itched to grab the handcuffs tucked into the back of his waistband.

  His heart hammered and anger singed the corners of his control. “Knock it off. This act you’ve got going is getting old.”

  Cameron’s mouth fell open and she dropped her pencil to the floor. “What act?”

  “You want me and everybody else to believe you’re some sort of carefree airhead. I don’t buy it.”

  He felt his temper rise as they exchanged a long deep look.

  He pounced on the opportunity to continue while he could. “I am taking you out of here, one way or another. It’s your choice whether it’s by force or on your own. Something’s not right. My gut is screaming at me to get out of here, and it’s never steered me wrong.” Fury almost choked him. “I couldn’t take it if something happened to you.”

  Max tempered his anger long enough to realize his slip.

  A small laugh escaped her and sent a hot thrill straight to his groin.

  “You like me.” She pressed her body flush against his and trailed her fingertips across the top of his head.

  “Yeah.” He fought his desire to grind himself against her. Do. Not. Move.

  Cameron tried to throttle the dizzying current that raced through her. His nearness overwhelmed her and electrified the air around them. Dodging the charged ions in the air, she inhaled deeply to steady her trembling nerves. Big mistake. His clean, musky scent clobbered her over the head and lured her into a drug-induced haze.

  “Calvin Klein?” She moved her hands to rest her palms on his broad, sturdy shoulders.

  He nodded, obviously trapped in the same haze. She took full advantage.

  “Fifteen minutes.”

  “No.”

  Undeterred by his quick disagreement, she flicked the diamond stud in his ear with one fingernail. “I thought you didn’t wear this while you work.”

  She saw a muscle twitch at the base of his jaw. Maybe he didn’t consider this work. When he didn’t answer, she tried again.

  “Just give me fifteen minutes, then I promise we’ll leave.”

  “No.”

  She shook her head and stepped from his warmth, snapping the delicate thread of desire between them.

  “Max, be reasonable. You’ve checked the whole house, twice, and you’re here with me.”

  She waited for his argument. Something about how unreasonable it had been to come here in the first place. Instead, he cocked his head to the side.

  “Why are you so damn persistent?”

  “I don’t like to leave a job undone.” Was that good enough?

  “He’s not even here.”

  “I don’t need him anyway. I can make my sketches and talk to him later.”

  He folded his arms across his chest as if preparing to negotiate a major deal. A negotiation that would most likely benefit only one of them: Max.

  Knowing full well she couldn’t argue her way out of his decision, she did the next best thing. Cheat. She bent over to loosen the buckle on one ankle strap of her sandal and granted him a bird’s eye view down her blouse in the process.

  She lifted her head and winked. “Please?”

  An expression between satisfaction and pain crossed his face before he bent to retrieve the pencil from the floor.

  “Fifteen minutes.” He shook the pencil in her face. “Do not leave the house.”

  She snatched the pencil from him. “Why would I–“

  ”Fourteen minutes, fifty seven seconds,” he spat as he marched to the front door. “I’m going outside to secure the perimeter.”

  The house shook and the windows rattled as Max slammed the door behind him.

  She giggled. What a sore loser. Secure the perimeter. Like the enemy was closing in. She rubbed a hand across her forehead, disconcerted by the comfort his dominance provided. She crammed that feeling way to the back of her emotional filing cabinet. The enemy was closer than she thought.

  Steering her mind back to business, Cameron grabbed her sketchbook. The master bedroom was usually a major focal point for most men. She’d start there.

  She stood in place for a moment, shifted from sandal to sandal, and strained to hear some sort of signal that Max was really still outside. A bird chirped a few notes. Silence. Then another chirp. She giggled. Super SEAL was probably sending her some sort of code.

  So, move already.

  With one last look around the living room, Cameron walked to a small hallway and then toward the master bedroom. Once she stepped into the large suite, her creativity overtook her hesitance. Her pencil took on a mind of its own and soon the drawing sucked her from reality.

  Muffled footsteps from the hallway brought her out of her haze moments later. She glanced at her watch. Intending to bargain with Max for five more minutes, she closed her sketchbook and prepared to face him.

  A chill climbed every single one of her vertebrae just before a hand clamped over her mouth and an arm pinned her arms to her sides. Her sketchbook and pencil fell to the floor with a thud as her assailant drug her across the bedroom.

  Cameron opened her mouth and screamed, realizing too late it was fruitless. The hand over her mouth allowed only a muffled sound to escape, but she figured it was worth a try. Her heels slid across the waxed floor as she squirmed and desperately tried to get them underneath her. Finally, somehow by the grace of God and a knot in the floor, she managed to gain her footing. Without hesitation, she planted one spiked heel into the knot and the other into her attacker’s foot.

  Take that, jerk.

  He gave a feral growl and loosened the clamp on her mouth. Now able to move her lips, Cameron closed her teeth on his middle finger. In the next second, she literally flew into the closet. She heard the door slam just as her head bounced off the inner wall.

  Still conscious but dazed, she heard the squeak of the bedroom window. Determined to thwart his escape, she screamed bloody murder and fumbled in the darkness for the doorknob. Where was Max? She let loose a very unladylike adjective as her hands, slick with sweat, slid from the brass.

  The door opened and Max extended a hand. “Where did you learn that word?”

  Not amused and extremely pissed off, she slapped his hand away and pushed herself to stand. “From you.”

  He had the audacity to laugh. A deep, rich … entirely too arousing laugh. “You okay?”

  Still blinded by lust and the sunlight that streaked through the open window, she managed to dismiss his concern and scowl. “I am now. Where were you?”

  “Outside.”

  “You didn’t hear me scream?”

  “Yeah, I opened the door, remember?”

  “Not then! I screamed earlier!” She didn’t bother to tell him about the hand clamped over her mouth.

  “I only heard you the one time.”

  “What about your supersonic hearing, Superman?”

  He gave a lazy grin. “Wrong super hero. That’s Spiderman.”

  “What about the bad guy?”

  “What bad guy?”

  “The one who dragged me into the closet.”

  “I didn’t see him.” He motioned to the closet. “You have him in there with you?”

  Despite her desire to remain angry and difficult, she couldn’t. Damn him for being so calm. He was too smooth, too practiced in the art of molding her emotions to suit himself. Not that she would ever concede that point.

  She pointed at the window. “I didn’t open it. He did.”

  “He?”

  She nodded.

  “Stone?”

  She thought for a minute and then a whole new cold realization poked her. Her eyes widened. Oh. God. “Do you think it was someone else?”

  Rat
her than provide some much-needed reassurance, he continued to grill her. “You didn’t see him?”

  She shook her head. “He came from behind me and when I finally managed to get loose, he shoved me into the closet and shut the door. I heard the window squeak before you opened the door.”

  “How did you manage to get loose?”

  Finally, a chance to nail him. “I used my hooker heels. The ones you said wouldn’t work again.”

  He still wouldn’t give. “Did he speak?”

  “No, he was in too much pain. I bit him too.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You bit him? Did he wear gloves?”

  Come to think of it, she had tasted leather. “Yes. So much for fingerprints.”

  “It was Stone.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Since he’s been watching, he knew I was here. Once you screamed, he ran to avoid me.”

  Of course. Somehow it all came back to Max. Yet, his conclusion made her feel much better.

  Max stepped in front of the closet and stuck his head inside. “Damn.”

  From behind him, Cameron bumped him to the side with one hip. “What?”

  He pointed upward. “There’s an attic crawl space in the ceiling.”

  She glanced up at the ceiling. “Where?”

  He stepped inside, poked one of the tiles loose with two fingers, and moved it to the side. “Here.”

  “He was probably in there the whole time,” she whispered.

  Max picked up her sketchbook and handed it to her. “Out.”

  With her courage in time out, she shrugged and headed to the front door. Not until she was out of the house and inside Max’s truck with the doors locked, did she feel anywhere near safe. She glanced at him sitting behind the steering wheel with his fingers clenched and an expression of utter frustration etched on his face. He just might handcuff me.

  Her stomach clenched as he leaned forward to start the truck and turned his head her direction. “It’s time for lunch.”

  His suggestion filled her with powerful relief. Both because she was starved and because bondage didn’t do much for her.