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Love Is Danger Page 2
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“Stacie, what is it?”
Cam’s hand on her arm shattered the spell and turned her attention towards him. How had he sneaked up on her so quietly? “I—I can’t!” she stammered. “I’m soaked…” She looked back into the car, the direction of her gaze revealing the cause of her reluctance.
The vehicle’s owner made an impatient noise. “And the longer you stand here, the wetter you’ll get. Stacie, it’s only a damn car! For God’s sake, get in! I’ll be right back.”
Painfully aware of the mess she was liable to make, Stacie slipped off her coat and bundled it up to stuff in the footwell, in the hope of minimising the possibility of causing any damage to the luxurious upholstery. She slid into the passenger seat, jumping slightly when Cam forcefully closed the door behind her. A few moments later, once he’d retrieved her bag, the Jaguar’s boot closed with similar intensity and the man himself was taking his place behind the wheel.
The fluorescent yellow jacket was now gone, revealing a frame no less imposing than that first impression. When its owner turned towards her, she hugged her tote bag to her chest, almost using it as a shield.
“Relax, Stacie.” His voice started to calm her with only those two words. “Your car’s locked up and not going anywhere. We’ll be at my friends’ house in around twenty minutes, maybe less, and I know you’ll be more than welcome. You’re safe now.”
For no reason that she could name, she believed him. She felt safer with him—with this stranger—than she had since the first blow of Jonty’s fist on her door that morning. From his reaction, anyone would have thought Jonty had caught her cheating on him, rather than it being the other way around. She’d seen him lose his temper on more than one occasion during their time together, but that morning was the first time she’d been on the receiving end of it. Once was more than enough. Trapped in the memory, she flinched when Cam touched her hand.
“Stacie? What’s wrong? You look terrified—I told you, I won’t hurt you.”
“It’s not you.”
She heard herself say the words, and all of a sudden common sense reasserted itself. This man was a completely unknown quantity, for heaven’s sake—a handsome, confident knight in shining armour with a compelling air of command about him, but it didn’t make him any less the stranger. And she’d got into his car with barely a thought for the possible risks in doing so. Had she gone completely insane? “Please…give me my keys and my bag. I can’t be here—”
“Stacie!”
Before she knew what was happening, strong arms had reached over the centre console and gone around her, holding her tightly to a broad chest. He smelled of rain, expensive aftershave and all things male, and that and the physical comfort combined to allay the panic that was threatening to overwhelm her. His deep voice had an indefinable quality that helped to soothe her as well. Why wasn’t she scared anymore? He was a stranger, she should be scared. Shouldn’t she?
“Shh, honey, it’s all right,” he murmured, stroking her arm. “Trust me. You’ve had a crap experience, but it’s over now. Just a short time from now, we’ll both be getting warm and dry again. Trust me.”
His voice again—the mesmeric quality of it wrapped around her, comforting her in ways that reminded her of…now she was crazy, imagining that this man was like the ones in the novel she was reading. Men like that just didn’t exist, no matter how much she might secretly want them to.
Stacie was on her third copy of the book now. She’d lent the first to Jen, her best friend, who’d then passed it on to another friend. The second copy had disappeared somewhere in the office and was no doubt circulating around the entire female contingent. Desperate to read it for—was it really the fourth time?—Stacie had bought another copy just yesterday, and was half a dozen chapters into it. The story was downright addictive.
As the sense of panic receded, so her ability to think calmly began to reassert itself. Slowly she pulled away from her rescuer, a slight case of embarrassment making her cheeks burn. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, “it’s just that it’s been…let’s just say it’s been a rough couple of days.”
“Tell me about it later, Stacie.” He reached across her for the seatbelt and snapped it into place. “For now, just relax and get warm. When we get to where we’re going, you can tell me all about whatever it is you’re running away from.”
Thank God they were so close to his destination.
Cam must have been more tired than he thought, for him to have given in to the irrational impulse to take a woman he’d known barely fifteen minutes in his arms and offer her comfort. This wasn’t the club. This wasn’t the prelude to a negotiation with a sub he’d never met before, and it most certainly wasn’t governed by the etiquette and protocol of Domination and submission. What the frickin’ hell was it about this woman that was making him go all Dom and protective all of a sudden?
Whatever it was, it was dangerous—especially to a man in Cam’s position. After a lifetime of avoiding commitment in relationships, he’d finally admitted to himself not so long ago that he was attracted to the kind of relationship that Alex and Beth shared. Not just attracted—he wanted the whole nine yards, right down to the wedding bells.
He was only just getting used to the idea; what he hadn’t expected to happen so soon was meeting a woman whom he could imagine on his arm when those wedding bells rang. And he sure as hell hadn’t planned to run into her in the middle of nowhere. His subconscious had kind of assumed he’d meet a suitable sub at Aegis one evening, and he’d take things from there—there was no way he’d bargained on being blindsided in the middle of a storm by a complete stranger.
Or he could just be working too hard and fatigue had robbed him of the capacity to control his imagination. Put a pretty blonde in his path, and his ability to think straight went south. As explanations went, that one was far more feasible. Either way, though, the sooner they got to his destination, the better.
Cam’s concentration was on the road ahead, but he risked a sideways glance at his unexpected passenger. He was in a prime position to appreciate the delicate lines of her profile—and to see that she was as taut as the proverbial bowstring. His honest opinion? She was on the verge of panic—second thoughts probably, and entirely understandable, given that she didn’t know him and she didn’t understand yet that she could trust him.
He wanted her to trust him. He wanted her to kiss him, and he wanted her on her knees in front of him. Shit! He was reacting to her just like he would to a sub at Aegis. Again, he wondered what the hell had come over him.
At that point, his head started to take an interest in what his instincts were fantasising about. He reminded himself that after tomorrow morning, when she went on her way, he’d probably never see Stacie Matheson again.
A prospect he found disturbingly unpleasant, when he shouldn’t have found it anything.
The Jaguar ate up the distance to the Lombards’ home, and pretty much at the time he’d predicted he was guiding the car through the huge wrought iron gates. As he pulled up outside the house, he heard Stacie gasp.
“Your friends live here?”
Cam switched off the engine. “It’s called Winterleigh. Nice place, and they have plenty of guest accommodation. Don’t worry, Stacie—Beth and Alex will make you more than welcome.”
“Are you sure, Mr. Fraser? I don’t want to impose.”
Mr. Fraser. Shit—that made him sound like the father he’d never known. The sperm donor who’d sired him had been just one of the many men his alcoholic tramp of a mother had slept with, before the booze had taken its toll and left him orphaned at the age of eight. He frowned at the disconcerting thought that the woman beside him might view him as some sort of father figure.
“It’s Cam,” he reminded her as he got out of the car, then went around to the passenger door to help her out, collecting their bags from the boot on the way. “Come on, let’s get inside before the rain starts again.”
Viewing him as family rather than j
ust a friend, Beth and Alex had both insisted that he have a set of keys to the house. Cam unlocked the front door, then stood back to let Stacie enter first. He’d barely closed it when he felt the warm familiarity of one of Beth’s hugs and heard the single word she whispered in his ear, a word that gave him the welcome he really needed tonight.
“We were starting to think you’d got lost, Cam,” she said with her usual radiant smile as she stepped back to look up at his face. “What happened to you?”
He leaned down to kiss her cheek. “I was running late, the weather was lousy and then I found a fair damsel in distress. Beth, let me introduce you to Stacie—Beth Lombard, Stacie Matheson. I told her you wouldn’t mind putting her up for the night, while we work out what to do about her car.”
Bloody hell.
Standing in the well-lit hall, this was the first opportunity he’d had to take a clear look at the young woman whom he’d assisted. What he saw, through the nervousness and the superficial damage wrought by the storm, cemented that first impression back at the car. Not just beauty, though, but a sweet, innocent loveliness, the like of which a man like him could never even aspire to take as his own, yet every cell in his body screamed to possess her and make her his. Almost in a daze, he held out his hand to her, his mind registering vaguely that she had to be at least a dozen years his junior. “Stacie.”
Emerging from the corner into which she’d slipped on entering the hall, she stepped forward—and irrational though it was, pleased him no end with her instant obedience. She took his hand, offering no resistance when he put his arm around her slender shoulders and pulled her against his body, acting on subconscious instincts older than time.
“Dear heaven, Stacie, you look absolutely exhausted!” Beth stated unequivocally, ready to take the other woman under her wing. “Do you have a bag with you?”
Before she could answer, a new voice joined in with another question.
“Where the bloody hell have you been, Fraser?”
Stacie had been in a state close to shock from the second she stepped past her rescuer and into the entrance hall of the stunningly impressive house. Suddenly feeling way out of her depth, she’d sought refuge in the corner by the door, only to realise that the interior, far from being imposing, was as warm and friendly as the smiling woman who had suddenly appeared and flung her arms enthusiastically around Cam Fraser.
She was younger than Stacie had somehow imagined—beautiful in a very natural way, with long, lustrous brown waves framing a face with a flawless complexion, remarkable green eyes behind a classy pair of designer glasses, and an unashamedly voluptuous figure. She was clad in an outfit that was both casual and chic, and around her neck she wore an elaborate heavy gold chain.
However, it was Cam himself who robbed Stacie briefly of the power of speech. Now that she could appreciate the full impact of him, her instinctive reaction was that, for the first time in her life, she’d met a real man and one who made her feel more feminine and alive than she’d ever felt before. With very little effort she could get into trouble. Oh, so much trouble…
He was tall. God, was he tall, well over six feet of solid muscle as far as she could tell, from his dark blond, military-short hair to his expensively booted feet. His clothes spoke of wealth, just as his car did, and they covered broad shoulders that she longed to feel beneath her hands, purely in the interests of confirming whether or not they were as strong as they looked, of course. Absolutely no ulterior motive at all. Cam Fraser was definitely all man and with his arm around her, Stacie found herself reacting to his overwhelming masculinity in a very wet, female way. No wonder she was having trouble keeping her wits about her.
And now another man was joining them—another equally impressive specimen of manhood, as ridiculously good-looking as Cam, but dark-haired where Cam was blond. When he spoke, all three turned as one in the direction of his voice. As he descended the final tread of the magnificent staircase, his sternly handsome features relaxed into a broad grin. He came to greet his friend with a brief and most definitely masculine hug.
He went on to introduce himself as Alex Lombard. He shook Stacie’s hand, and then moved to his wife, drawing her into his side in such a way that all Stacie could do was wonder how it must feel to be the woman who had such a man so blatantly, so deeply in love with her. That was something she herself had never known, yet suddenly found herself wishing for it with an almost physical intensity. Oh yeah, she was tired and overwrought, she had to be.
“Stacie, why don’t you come with me?” Beth lifted her arm towards the staircase. “Cam, bring Stacie’s bag, would you? You know where you’re going—Stacie can have the blue bedroom, two doors down from yours.”
Although she was following the other woman, Stacie was more aware of her rescuer just a few steps behind her, all the way up the staircase and along the gallery to the last door on the right. Consequently she was barely listening when Beth showed her into the room and informed her that dinner would be ready in about forty-five minutes. She thanked her hostess and watched the other woman leave.
“You see, honey, I told you everything would be all right.”
Chapter 2
Cam carefully set Stacie’s bag down by the dressing table, focusing on the simple act as a means of diverting his attention from the intimacy of the setting. At the same time, he was making a mental note to speak to Alex about his sub’s trouble-making tendencies, as he recalled the saucy wink and smile Beth had flashed in his direction as she left the room. The woman was incorrigible—one of her many traits that he loved.
But now he was alone with another exquisite woman and he really should be walking out of there, so that she could relax and freshen up before dinner. The trouble was he found himself a little too attracted to the slightly anxious smile she was giving him.
“That’s right, you did,” she agreed, a little self-consciously. “Your friends are very kind.”
Cam couldn’t argue with that assessment. “Yes, that they are. Anyway, I’d better leave you in peace and give you a chance to get cleaned up. Beth and Alex don’t stand on ceremony, so don’t worry about dressing up for dinner. If you need anything, I’m two doors away in that direction.” He nodded to his right. “I’ll be back soon to escort you downstairs. See you in a little while, Stacie.”
When Cam got to the door of what had become his home away from home over the last few months he paused, debating whether or not to go downstairs first and sedate his errant thoughts with a generous measure of Alex’s best Scotch.
“I don’t think so,” he muttered under his breath, pressing down the door handle. Greeting Stacie with the miasma of alcohol fumes around him wasn’t a good idea…and he wasn’t about to explain to himself why it wasn’t a good idea.
Minutes later he was under the shower, sluicing off the negative feelings that had accompanied him from London and looking forward to the evening ahead—and the night. When Beth had greeted him with that familiar hug a short time ago, the word she’d whispered in his ear—Trinity—was the word she’d chosen months ago to avoid the embarrassment of blatantly telling him that he would be welcome to join her and Alex in their suite for a play session…and to spend the night with them.
To his surprise and that of her husband, she’d suggested the idea, but drew the line at spelling it out in so many words. He smiled to himself as he remembered the way she’d blushed at the time, when she’d said that it was the one and only time she was going to describe exactly what she meant. She’d then nominated the word to convey the invitation in future. Although she was no longer embarrassed, she still used their code word as a form of verbal shorthand.
And tonight Cam needed the company and the distraction. Work had been getting to him of late—it was nearly two years since he’d last had a break long enough to recharge his batteries and he was getting to the point where he was running on empty. He hadn’t even had the energy and enthusiasm to seek companionship at Club Aegis, not since…oh hell, he couldn’t
even remember, beyond it being quite some time before his recent three-month stint in the Middle East.
He knew he should be pleased that business was going so well—if it weren’t, he wouldn’t be in a position to buy toys like the top-of-the-range F-Type Jaguar convertible parked outside. Nor would he have been able to instruct the estate agent to look for a house for him within easy driving distance of this one. Even so, there was still something vital missing from his life.
He knew precisely what it was, and it was something he couldn’t buy. A grunt of humourless laughter had him shaking his head. Actually, he could buy it, if he wanted to—by the hour, maybe by the night, but it would be a cold, emotionless facsimile of what he’d recently decided he really wanted.
Thinking about relationships and intimacy led him to thinking about Stacie again. It was a connection he had no business making. In addition, he was too tired for his body to be responding the way it was. She was way too young for him, he told himself harshly, repeating the y word over and over again as he rinsed away the suds. There was no way she’d want an old man like him in her bed.
And as for anything else…
Back in the bedroom, he pulled out a clean pair of jeans and a white polo shirt and dressed quickly. Time was getting better of him, and he had escort duty to perform. He pushed his bare feet into a pair of loafers, squared his tired shoulders and walked out of the room.
Even if her hosts didn’t stand on ceremony, Stacie was glad that she’d packed the smart, cream linen skirt and the classic, cornflower-blue top in the small holdall that had made the journey with her. She’d been able to have a delightful shower in the sumptuously appointed bathroom, found a hairdryer in one of the dressing table drawers and was just finishing off her light makeup with a subtle touch of warm pink lipstick.