by Mia Dymond
“I don’t need a wheelchair,” she groused.
“Would you rather walk barefoot with a cane?”
“Ha. Ha.”
“Here.” He handed her a pair of black sunglasses. “Thought you might appreciate these.”
She accepted his offering and attempted to smile as she rested the glasses on her face. “Thanks, Max.”
Satisfied she wouldn’t jump out, he wheeled her down the sterile halls. Cool air caressed his bare chest and several passing nurses paused to gawk.
He cleared his throat nervously and broke the unusual silence. “What would be so bad about marrying me, Pipsqueak?”
Her momentary silence encouraged him. Obviously, she hadn’t anticipated his question.
“I’ll make you a list,” she mumbled.
As they approached Rachel’s room, Max heard Hawke’s attempt to comfort Rachel from the hallway. The security guard posted outside handed Max a fresh t-shirt. Max stretched the shirt over his body and nodded before he wheeled Cameron into the room.
“Cameron!” Rachel climbed out of the bed Hawke had just coaxed her into and rushed to Cameron’s side. “Are you hurt?”
Cameron patted the top of Rachel’s hand. “Not much,” she denied, “I’m just blind.”
“Blind?!” Rachel squealed, her eyes wide.
Max pinched the bridge of his nose. Did she ever think before she spoke?
“No! Sorry, Rach,” Cameron said quickly, “I’m not blind. My eyes are just swollen shut.”
“Oh, thank God!” Rachel sat down on the side of the bed.
Cameron turned her head toward the sound of Rachel’s voice. “I’m so sorry this happened. Are you sure you and the baby are okay?”
“We’re fine, Cameron. I’m more concerned about you.”
“Don’t worry. I have a bodyguard, remember?”
Hawke glanced at Max. “Any idea what happened?”
Max nodded. “Working on it as we speak.”
Rachel leaned back against the pillows. “You take her home, Max, and make her stay there until all this mess is over.”
“Sure, Rachel,” Cameron mumbled, “now there’ll be no living with him.”
Hawke tossed Max a grin. “Greg’s on his way to drive the two of you home.”
* * *
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Max’s heart pounded with rage as Huntington parked Hawke’s sleek, black SUV in Cameron’s driveway. Stone had pushed too far and now Max was out for blood. No matter what it took, Max would find him and then there would be hell to pay. Reigning in his temper, Max slid out of the passenger’s door and casually hoisted Cameron into his arms.
She pushed her sunglasses up on her nose. “What are you doing?”
He knocked the door closed with one hip. “Carrying you inside.”
“I can walk.”
“Sure you can, but I’d have to alert the neighborhood watch to keep you from getting lost.”
She stuck her tongue out at him.
A flare of lust drove him to continue his teasing. “Don’t pull your weapon unless you intend to use it,” he whispered across her ear. Her tongue quickly disappeared back inside her mouth.
Before Cameron could respond, the sound of a panicked female voice penetrated the silence.
“Cameron!”
Max turned just in time to see Holly rush across the driveway and stop next to them. Huntington froze.
“Greg?” Blatant curiosity filled Holly’s voice.
Max’s eyes bounced between Huntington and Holly and he wondered why Huntington was so freaked out. Then it dawned on him. Holly had no idea who Huntington really was or why he’d enrolled in her Pilates class. Hell.
“Come on in, Holly,” Cameron interjected quickly. “I’ll introduce everyone.”
Once Max directed Huntington to open the door and disarm the security system, he placed Cameron on the sofa and Holly sat down next to her.
“I heard about the accident,” Holly said worriedly. “How are you?”
“I’m fine,” Cameron reassured her, absently removing the sunglasses. “Just bruised.”
Holly gasped.
“Put your glasses back on, Elvira.” Max sat in the recliner next to the couch. “You’re scary.”
“Sorry.” Cameron replaced the glasses with a frown.
Holly wrung her hands. “I’m not one to add insult to injury, but you should’ve come to the gym instead.”
Max eased back into the chair to analyze Holly’s gentle reprimand. By Cameron’s own admission, Holly seemed to know things. Until now, he’d chalked it up to coincidence. Did she know they would have an accident?
“Do they hurt?” Holly asked.
“Not much, they just look awful.”
“You should call Antonio. He’ll be able to tell you exactly how to stop the swelling.”
“Antonio?” Max raised his suspicion another notch on his anxiety meter.
Cameron turned her head to face Max and he bit his lip to keep from smiling. If she could roll her eyes, this would be the time. “My spa guy, Prince Charming,” she explained patiently before she swung her head back toward Holly. “Max is my bodyguard.”
Max watched Holly’s eyes shift from Cameron back to him as if she could see right through that explanation.
As if she anticipated Holly’s next question, Cameron added, “It was his day off.”
Holly’s brows came down in suspicion. “You hired a bodyguard?”
Cameron nodded. “I have a knack for attracting lunatics.”
“Lunatics?”
“Cameron’s being stalked,” Max said bluntly.
“By who?” Holly asked.
Max took the opportunity to intervene. “Do the names Vince Stone or Calvin Thomas mean anything to you?”
Holly frowned. “No. Are they responsible?”
“Possibly. Someone left her a gift. Have you seen anyone unusual in the neighborhood?”
Holly’s ponytail moved the air as she swung her head. “No, but I don’t get out much. What kind of gift?”
“Lingerie,” Cameron muttered.
“Oh, Cameron!” Holly squeezed her forearm. “Do you need me to stay?”
Max pinched his forehead between his fingers. That’s all he needed – the naked sun goddess from next door in the same house with Cameron. He’d be doubly hen-pecked, Steele and Huntington would never leave, and Stone would run free.
Much to his relief, Cameron declined Holly’s offer. “Thanks, Holly, but Mad Max has everything under control.”
Again, Holly paused a full second before she averted her eyes from Max and Cameron. He shifted uneasily, not quite comfortable with Holly’s silent analysis.
Finally, she turned her attention to Huntington. “And how do you fit into the puzzle?”
Interested in hearing Huntington’s response, Max chuckled and stretched his legs in front of him.
Cameron laid her head back against the top of the sofa and sighed. “He’s playing chauffeur.”
“I haven’t seen you in class,” Holly told Huntington.
Cameron snorted. “He couldn’t move for a week after the last one. Besides, he wasn’t there for the exercise.”
Huntington’s face reddened and Max felt a surprising wave of pity wash over him. “Loud mouth,” he hissed.
Cameron shrugged.
Huntington cleared his throat. “I need to get back to the hospital.”
“Chicken,” Max muttered under his breath as Huntington slipped out the front door.
“It’s amazingly exciting around here.” Holly giggled and squeezed Cameron’s hand. “I’m glad you’re okay. Call if you need anything.”
Cameron raised her head and managed a smile. “Thanks again, Holly.”
“Keep your doors locked,” Max told Holly as he walked her to the door. “There’s extra security in the neighborhood, but we haven’t caught him yet.”
“Will do,” Holly agreed.
Max waited to hear the clic
k of the door before he returned to the sofa and lifted Cameron from the pillows. “How about a nap?”
Cameron yawned and laid her head on his shoulder. “Okay.”
Thankful she was too exhausted for a temper tantrum, he cradled her in his arms and climbed the stairs to the bedroom.
“You don’t have to carry me, Max.”
He tightened his hold and silently dared her to make him turn her loose. “You can’t see to climb the stairs.”
Her body stiffened. “I could manage.”
He felt the fight leave her body as he snickered and kissed the top of her head. “I want to.”
“I could get used to this, Hercules,” she mumbled as he tucked her into bed.
She gave him a sleepy smile as he lifted the sunglasses from her face and placed them on the table next to the bed.
“Me too, Angel.” He planted a soft kiss on her swollen cheek. “Me too.”
As Cameron drifted off to sleep, Max left the bedroom and headed back downstairs to call Steele. Just when he reached the bottom step, the doorbell rang several times in a row. He opened the door to Holly, who chattered like a magpie.
“Max, I’m glad you’re still here!” she babbled as she flew inside. “When you mentioned those two names earlier, I went home and checked my gym enrollment records. I may have some information.”
She took another breath and shoved a file folder at him. “He joined the club about two weeks ago and enrolled in Cameron’s aerobics class. The instructor tells me he’s not very good, lacks basic coordination I guess. He could really benefit from –“
“Have you seen him?” he prompted, attempting to put her back on track.
“Oh, yeah. Open the file,” she demanded, lifting her breasts to his eye level with each labored breath.
A feeling of utter satisfaction overtook him as he opened the file. There, before him in vivid Technicolor was Vince Stone, registered as Calvin Thomas. And, even though his appearance was altered, the stupid son of a bitch posed for the picture.
“Bingo,” he muttered.
“Is that the guy you’re looking for?”
He nodded. “Do you know if he’s at the gym now?”
Holly glanced at her watch. “Cameron’s class finished a couple of hours ago. I could call to see if he’s still signed in. Shouldn’t we call the police?”
“We have to find him first. When is her next class?”
“Tomorrow. Is anyone else in danger?”
Max rubbed the back of his neck. “Hard to say. He seems to be focused on Cameron right now, but sometimes these things escalate.”
“Do you think he’ll show up at the gym tomorrow?”
“Probably not. If he’s still watching, he knows she’s too weak to exercise. How many of your employees are women?”
“Only me and two others.”
“I don’t think you have anything to worry about, but I’ll arrange for a police officer to be there just in case.”
He took a breath to calm his nerves and curb his excitement.
Holly placed a hand on his forearm. “She won’t leave, will she?”
He chuckled and gave her a small grin. “She’s determined to let him know who’s boss.”
Holly giggled and gave his arm a squeeze. “That’s our Cameron.”
Max sighed. “I was serious about locking your doors. Do you have a security system?”
She nodded. “Don’t worry. I’m on lock down over there.” She released his arm and reached for the doorknob to open the door. “I’ll be back tomorrow to help her work the soreness out of her muscles. Let me know if I can do anything before then.”
Max nodded and closed the door behind her.
Apprehension and anger knotted inside him as the reality of the day’s events began to overtake him. Fear, stark and vivid, overwhelming and foreign, burnt his gut. What if his protection wasn’t enough?
As he fought his emotions, Max sought the comfort of the sofa. In all of the high-tech, top-secret missions he’d run, he’d never left a man behind. Even when the most insane madmen chased him through overgrown jungles or across the burning desert sand, he managed to outwit them, hunt them down and bring them to justice. Since most hostages were glad to see him, the rescue operations normally went without a hitch. This time, the hostage was beautiful, sexy, cunning and … difficult. And, there was another small problem.
He loved her.
He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and rubbed his aching forehead. He’d never forgive himself if anything else happened to her.
Pulling himself together, he attempted to put things into perspective. He knew now that Stone and Thomas were one in the same and hell-bent on getting to Cameron. A no-brainer. Yet, there was something strange about Stone’s method; as badly as he wanted Cameron’s attention, he maintained a substantial distance. Even both times he’d attempted to kidnap her, he’d disappeared when she managed to cause a scene. Could Stone be so pissed off that he would kill her?
He lowered his hands and sat up. He knew that any attempt to understand the criminal mind was a lost cause. Max felt a small wave of encouragement. Maybe his presence intimidated Stone after all.
He glanced at his watch. Time to wake Sleeping Beauty. He climbed the stairs, nudged the bedroom door open, eased inside and made his way to the bed. Cameron was still asleep, curled into a ball with her hands tucked under her face. He smiled secretly to himself. Even with her face swollen and purple, she was the most beautiful woman on earth. He laid a hand on her shoulder, hesitant to wake her as he heard her strangled moan. Was that pain or a warning that she’d come up swinging?
He stepped to one side and shook her gently. “Cameron.”
Her eyes opened in small slits. “What?”
“Count to three.”
She turned over with her back to him. “You are out of your mind.”
Convinced her response was better than counting, he chuckled. “Do you know where you are?”
She lifted her head and squinted over her shoulder. “In my bed. Asleep.”
He leaned down and kissed the goose egg on her forehead. “I’ll be up in a little while.”
With a half-smile, she returned her head to the pillow and pulled the blanket to her chin.
Closing the door quietly, Max headed down the hall and dialed his phone on the way. He stopped in front of the peeping-tom window and peered around the neighborhood. “Keep on, Stone,” he muttered under his breath. “It’s only a matter of time.”
He gave a cursory glance at the tree next door before he lifted the phone to his ear. “Steele,” he growled, “we had an incident.”
“Man, somebody has a death wish. What now?”
“Cameron and Rachel were in a car accident this morning.”
“What happened?”
Max gave Steele the abbreviated version and purposely neglected to mention the department store. “And someone punctured Cameron’s brake line.”
“How did they get past you?”
Max hesitated. So much for dodging the question. “Must have been while we were at the department store.”
“Shoe sale?” Steele mocked.
Somewhat relaxed by Steele’s jab, Max ran his hand over the surface of his head and sighed. “Fifty percent off.”
“Did she not notice brake fluid under the car?”
“Cameron? No. Besides, there probably wasn’t any there. The line was punctured, not cut. I knew something was wrong when Cameron accelerated around the curves. She lost control and hit a tree.”
“Shit!” Steele cursed. “How bad were they hurt?”
“Rachel is spending the night under observation at the hospital. She and the baby are fine. Cameron may start calling me Tonto.”
“Airbags?” Steele asked.
“Yeah.” Max shuddered as the crash resounded in his head. He would never forget the sound of the crunching metal, the image permanently burned into his memory. “They were damn lucky.”
“Noth
ing broken?”
“Only the car and Cameron’s shoe.”
Steele jabbed again. “How did she take the loss of her shoe?”
“Haven’t told her yet,” Max mumbled.
“And you called me so I can tell her?”
“No, Smartass. I want Stone and I want him yesterday, damn it.”
“Okay, okay. Don’t get your panties in a wad. I’ll get him. The sneaky bastard is just really good at hiding.”
Max ignored the panty comment. “Have you found anything?”
“Maybe. What time was the accident?”
“About 11:30 a.m. or so. Why?”
“I talked to the owner of the coffee shop across the street from Fitness in the Buff this morning. She placed Thomas in there about 10:00 a.m.”
“She knows him?”
“That’s what was weird. When I asked her about Calvin Thomas, she knew exactly who I was talking about. She even went so far as to tell me he goes in most mornings about ten minutes before Cameron and Holly. Never speaks to either of them just makes an appearance. But when I showed her Stone’s mugshot, she didn’t recognize him.”
“Stone is Thomas,” Max told Steele. “I’ve got a recent picture. He’s dyed his hair black and grown a beard and mustache. Looks like he’s wearing blue contact lenses in this picture.”
“Hot damn,” Steele muttered. “What’s your plan of action?”
“I’ll leave the picture locked in my truck.”
“You want me to break in your truck?”
“Hell yes, Steele. He’s watching and that will convince him you’re working against me.”
“I’ll be by sometime before morning.”
Satisfied Steele would make perfect bait, Max decided to put things aside for the night. After placing the photograph in his truck, he returned to the house, made sure the doors were locked and the alarm was set, then he crept up the stairs and into Cameron’s bedroom. Shucking his t-shirt and unbuttoning the top button of his jeans, he placed his gun and cell phone on the night stand before he crawled under the covers and spooned her. Thank God for denim. With the lacey thing she called underwear stretched over her ass and pressed to his groin, the heavy material would provide a temporary barrier anyway.