by Evelyn Glass
The house was quiet. It was a little after 4:30 in the morning, and even though Dirk was an early riser, she wasn’t expecting him to be up just yet. They were a blessing, these quiet hours she got to herself.
Camilla padded downstairs, her bare feet making no sound on the floors of Dirk’s desert house. She walked into the spacious kitchen, and she nearly jumped out of her skin when she spotted a dark shape, sitting at the table.
“Relax, princess,” a well-known voice said in the darkness. “It’s just me.”
Camilla took in great gulps of air, her heart racing. She reached for the switch and turned on the light. Stephan Walker grinned up at her. He blinked a couple of times to get adjusted to the sudden burst of light, but soon his hazel eyes regained their razor-like sharpness.
“What are you doing here?” Camilla asked when she had finally gotten herself back under control.
Stephan shrugged. “Just helping Dirk keep an eye out.”
Camilla arched an eyebrow, but she refrained from saying anything. She knew exactly what—or rather, whom—they were keeping an eye out for. Ever since the incident in the desert four nights ago, the Minutemen had been on full alert. Even though they didn’t seem to really think the Tar Mongols had learned the location of Dirk’s house, they still refused to take chances, and one or two of the men would take night shifts at Dirk’s, just in case. Camilla just hadn’t expected the MC’s president, himself, to take a shift. She had not seen him since the Minutemen had rescued her and Dirk four nights ago.
“And you’re standing guard in the kitchen?” Camilla finally asked, unable to help herself. “In the dark?”
Stephan smirked. “If someone wants to catch you by surprise, the first thing you have to do is let them think you’ve got no idea they’re coming.”
Camilla stared at him. “Do you really think they’ll come here?”
“No,” Stephan said after a moment’s reflection. “I don’t think they even know Dirk has a house out here. But better safe than sorry.” He said the last part eloquently, and Camilla shivered.
She remembered all too well what had happened the last time the Minutemen had underestimated just how far the Tar Mongols would go. The deaths of Alex Hurley and his wife and kids still hung heavy over all of their heads, and Camilla felt particularly responsible; the Mongols had been looking for her that night.
“And what are you doing up, princess?” Stephan asked.
Camilla gave the most noncommittal shrug she could muster. “I couldn’t sleep,” she said. She walked over to the cabinets and began busying herself with making coffee, just so she wouldn’t have to face him and his all-knowing stare. “Would you like some coffee?” she asked, casually.
“Sure.”
To his credit, Stephan didn’t say anything else. He remained quiet as she retrieved mugs, ground coffee beans, and water for the coffee brewer, but all the while she could feel his gaze burning into the back of her skull.
Camilla had been an investigative reporter for a very long while now, and she had become good at reading people. But even with all of her experience, she still had trouble reading this man. She had no idea what Stephan Walker’s agenda was, or if he even had one. She didn’t know why he was helping her, or if that was even what he was doing. She still couldn’t tell whether or not he was one of the good guys. She couldn’t read this blond-haired man and his pearly-white smile, and it unnerved her to no end.
Camilla finished making the coffee and then placed a steaming mug in front of him.
“Thank you,” he said, nodding gratefully. “Please, have a seat. Join me.”
Camilla hesitated, her own mug held tightly between her hands despite the heat that was rapidly seeping into her palms.
Stephan flashed her his most charming grin. “Go ahead,” he encouraged her, “I won’t bite.”
Camilla did her best to ignore the fact that he had chosen the word “won’t” rather than “don’t”—and she took a seat at the opposite side of the table.
“So how are you holding up?” he asked after a few moments.
Camilla looked up at him. “What do you mean?” She had a feeling she knew exactly what he meant, but she’d rather play dumb for a little while longer; it was a trick that had kept her alive on more than one occasion.
“I mean with everything that went down the other night,” Stephan said, predictably. “It must’ve been scary for you.”
Camilla shrugged. She carefully wiped every expression off her face. “It’s done,” she said.
Stephan stared at her from over the brim of his mug. “Is it?”
Camilla swallowed. “What do you mean?” she asked again.
“I mean, if you really think it’s done, you’re not as smart as I thought.”
Camilla bit her bottom lip nervously. “I know war’s coming,” she said, recalling the conversation she’d had with Dirk after they had come back from that horrible adventure in the desert. “But I also know it’s got nothing to do with me.”
“Perhaps not,” Stephan admitted. “But you sure as hell helped jumpstart it.” His hazel eyes flashed with anger. “You should know, the only reason why I didn’t put a bullet through you after the stunt you pulled is because Dirk would hate me for it.”
Camilla felt her insides grow cold. In that moment, she had no doubt that Stephan Walker meant every word. In hindsight, she supposed she couldn’t blame him; she had gotten those two Tar Mongols killed, giving Herman Ruiz one more excuse to bring the conflict between the two warring motorcycle clubs to an escalation point.
Oh God, Camilla groaned inwardly when she realized the direction her thoughts were taking. Am I really justifying a man who just said he would happily kill me?
She searched her brain for something to say in response, but she came up with a blank. Or rather, she couldn’t find any response that wouldn’t get Stephan’s temper flaring. She stood, willing her body to move at a controlled speed and fighting her instincts to hightail it out of that room as fast as her legs would carry her.
“I think I’d better try and get some sleep now,” she said, as calmly as she could.
Stephan watched her, unfazed. “You haven’t finished your coffee yet.”
“I don’t want it anymore.”
Camilla didn’t wait for a reply. She turned around and left the kitchen. To his credit, Stephan didn’t try to stop her.
She hurried upstairs, and she wasn’t really surprised when her legs automatically carried her to the door of Dirk’s bedroom. Camilla knew she was a mess of nerves and jumbled thoughts, and that she had to regain some control over herself—fast—if she wanted to get out of this situation. And so far, as much as she hated to admit it, the only thing that had given her some balance had been Dirk’s touch on her body.
Chapter 26
Camilla had no delusions about surprising Dirk; he had probably heard her coming when she was still in the kitchen. Still, she didn’t feel like knocking either. She was going to reclaim her balance, with no warnings or apologies. She took a deep breath and slipped into the room…
…and she froze when she heard an all-too familiar click. In the semidarkness, she could make out Dirk’s form, half sitting on the bed, supporting himself on one elbow while his other hand held the gun that was pointed at her. Apparently, Camilla wasn’t the only one who’d had the events from four nights ago get under her skin. For some reason, that realization made her feel better. She didn’t feel as fragile or as helpless anymore.
She held her hands up. “It’s me,” she said.
“Shit!” Dirk cursed loudly. He fumbled with the bedside lamp and glared at her in the subsequent dim light. “Are you crazy? I could’ve shot you!”
“No, you couldn’t have,” Camilla said, calmly. “I know you would’ve made sure of who it was first; you wouldn’t just shoot in your own house without asking questions first.”
Dirk grumbled something unintelligible under his breath; it sounded like more swear words. He shoved
the gun back under the pillow on the empty side of the bed and glared daggers at her from his deep blue eyes.
“What are you even doing here?” he demanded, dragging a hand across his face to wake himself up. “What time is it?”
“A little past five in the morning,” Camilla replied absently. She had already started to move towards him.
Dirk watched her, a bemused expression on his face. “What are you doing?”
“You haven’t touched me in a while.” Camilla let the thin, cotton robe fall off her shoulders and onto the floor. “I’ve come to claim what’s mine.”
Dirk swallowed visibly. He had never been able to resist her, and they both knew it. The look in his eyes darkened and became hungry, as he watched her every move. He watched as she came up to the bed and climbed onto the mattress, straddling him with her knees. Her mouth captured his, and he sighed against her full lips. One of his hands reached up to tangle his fingers into the softness of her long auburn waves.
Camilla deepened the kiss and ground her hips against his pelvis, desperate for friction and contact and everything that Dirk had always given her that would drive the demons away.
“Don’t,” he finally mumbled. He broke their heated exchange of fiery kisses and frantic touches, and he pushed her back firmly.
Camilla frowned in confusion, her stomach tightening in disappointment. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t think this should happen. Not like this, anyway.”
She stared at him. To her surprise, he looked like he meant it. “What are you talking about?”
Dirk sighed. He dislodged her unceremoniously off of his lap and sat up a little straighter, running a hand through his hair in an uncharacteristic display of nervousness.
“Why are you here, Camilla?” he finally asked.
Camilla blinked, her confusion mounting. What is he doing? Why isn’t he ravaging me like he has done so many times before? “I told you,” she said. “I want you to touch me.”
“Why?” he pressed.
His scrutiny was so intense that she almost had to look away. Instead, she forced herself to stand her ground and stare right back at him.
“Because I like it,” she admitted candidly. “Because I need a distraction from all the shit that’s been going on.”
“Ah.” Dirk sighed heavily and gave her a small smile. “That’s what I was afraid of, and that’s exactly why I can’t do this.” When Camilla kept looking at him, clearly confused, he elaborated, “I can’t afford a distraction right now.”
Camilla frowned. To her, none of it made any sense. “What are you saying? You’re not gonna fuck me until this whole thing with the Tar Mongols is over?”
Dirk cringed visibly. “Probably not even after that,” he admitted.
It felt like a cold shower. She watched him in disbelief. What is happening? Where is the Dirk who would take me with such intensity that I felt like the whole universe was exploding? Where is the Dirk who needed my body as much as I needed his? She realized now with startling clarity that that Dirk was gone. He had been replaced with the soldier, the man who could only see and live the war.
Camilla pulled away further with deliberate movements. She got off the bed, went to retrieve her fallen robe, and put it on, wishing that it could hide her from his unbearable scrutiny.
“I see,” she said, and even she was surprised by just how cold her voice sounded. “I’ll let you get back to sleep then. Sorry I’ve disturbed you.”
“It’s not that I don’t want you.” His voice reached her when she was at the door. She froze, one hand on the handle. “It’s that I want you too much.”
Camilla turned around, slowly. There was a note of sincerity to his words that sent a shiver down her spine.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with that,” she admitted.
Dirk grinned. “You’re supposed to just take my word for it and realize that me not wanting to have sex with you is actually a compliment.”
Camilla couldn’t suppress a snort. “It doesn’t really feel like a compliment.”
The intensity in Dirk’s blue eyes didn’t waver. It felt as though he was trying to convey some important message that Camilla just wasn’t getting.
“Do you know why I came after you the other night?” he asked.
Camilla smirked. “I didn’t leave you much choice,” she said. “I took your bike.”
Dirk dismissed that notion with a wave of his hand. “I could’ve gotten that back at any time; I knew you wouldn’t last long alone in the desert.”
Camilla shivered again, but this time the sensation wasn’t pleasant. It had been an awfully close call, but she was just beginning to realize exactly how close; if the Tar Mongols hadn’t shown up, she probably would have been in serious trouble anyway.
“I could’ve just waited for the Mojave Desert to claim you,” Dirk continued, oblivious to her mounting discomfort. “It probably would’ve made life a lot easier for everyone involved.”
“Except me,” Camilla growled through gritted teeth.
“Except you,” he agreed.
Camilla pushed down her mounting anger. She had the feeling getting to the bottom of this would be the best course of action. “So why did you do it?” she asked. “Why did you come after me?”
Dirk hesitated. Then, without warning, he said, “Because I care.”
Camilla blinked, taken aback. Of all the answers she had imagined, that surely wasn’t it. “Excuse me?” she said, stunned.
“You heard me,” Dirk said, his impossibly blue eyes boring holes into her. “I came after you because I care about you. Believe me, I tried not to. I tried to see you as nothing more than a nuisance and great sex—”
“Wow, thanks,” Camilla said dryly.
“—but you’ve somehow managed to get under my skin, Camilla. I never meant for it to happen; it just did. To be honest, I don’t like it, but there’s nothing I can do about it now.”
Camilla took in his confession and tried to wrap her mind around it. She had not expected him to open up like this—or at all, for that matter. She walked back to the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress, all sexual intentions forgotten. She stared at Dirk and studied his features to see if he was making fun of her, but she saw no traces of lie on his face.
“Thank you,” she finally said. “For coming after me. I don’t think I’ve said it yet.”
“You hadn’t,” Dirk said, and he smiled, “but that’s okay.”
Camilla took a deep breath, preparing to say something she had refused to say ever since that night. Her pride would hurt for days, but she figured she could afford to be as honest with him as he had just been with her.
“It was pretty stupid,” she admitted. “What I did, I mean.”
Dirk seemed surprise by the admission, but he recovered easily. “Yeah, it was,” he said, his face darkening at the memory.
“I’m sorry,” Camilla said sincerely. “I put you and your club in danger.”
Dirk nodded curtly, dismissing the apology. “Just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
“It won’t,” Camilla said quickly. “I’ve learned my lesson.”
The lesson was that she was as helpless out there in the desert as a newborn calf, and that what she had thought would be her gateway to freedom had turned out to be the fastest way to get herself killed.
“Good,” Dirk said.
Camilla hesitated. She wanted to ask so many questions, and she figured this was as good a time as any. Perhaps, this time, she would finally get some straight answers, something more substantial than “It’s for your own good.”
“Why is it so dangerous out there, Dirk?” she finally asked. “What’s this feud that you’ve got going on with the Tar Mongols? Are you really fighting because of me?”
Dirk frowned. “What do you mean?” It was clear that he had a pretty good idea where Camilla was going with this, and that he didn’t like it in the least.
“I mean, I�
��m having a hard time believing you and your club are letting things escalate just because you don’t want Ruiz to kill a nosy reporter.”
Dirk stared at her. He visibly debated with himself for a moment, and then he sighed, defeated. “Fine,” he said. “You want the truth?”
“It would help, yes.”
Dirk exhaled slowly. He looked away briefly, and when he looked back up at her, his eyes were burning. “This war is not about you.”
Chapter 27