Of course, you are. He’s gorgeous. You and every other woman he’s ever crossed has felt that way.
I glance over at Lorraine and she’s watching me enviously. We smile at each other.
A tremble teases through my body as Cameron leans back in his chair, never taking his eyes off me. The poor wooden chair creaks under his tremendous weight as he crosses his arms.
He’s the best lead I’ve had on this story yet and my brain keeps blanking on me. I can’t focus under that intense possessive gaze.
He’s waiting for me to say something. Shit. What were we talking about again?
Luckily, the bartender comes over to ask us if we want any drinks.
“Another beer?” he asks me as I cringe. “Are you going to keep it in the glass this time?”
“In the glass or in my mouth,” I say with a nervous laugh.
Cameron gets all tense as the bartender talks to me. His body is all rigid and tight and his hand is squeezed into a fist like he wants to punch him for daring to talk to me. Or, maybe it’s for taking my attention away from him…
“Anything for you?”
“Beer,” Cameron grunts.
He only eases up again when the bartender walks away.
“Your time is running out,” he says as he glances at the timer on my phone.
3:46.
Damn it! I lost a minute gawking at him.
“Where are you guys from?” I ask, trying to ease my way up to the heavy questioning.
“California.”
“Have you ever been to Alaska?”
He tries to look neutral, but his eye twitches.
“Yes.”
“What were you doing there?”
“Working.”
“What kind of work?”
He takes a deep breath as he watches me. I wish I could know what’s going through his head.
“I was a mercenary,” he finally says.
“Working for whom?”
“The United States Military. Contract work.”
“Have you ever killed anyone?” I don’t need to know that question for my story. I need to know it for me.
“Yes,” he says without hesitation. “But they were all bad men who deserved it.”
I gulp as I look down at his huge hands. A warmth starts flooding through me when I picture them wrapping around some insurgent’s neck as he squeezes the life out of him.
“Who is Dylan Burton?”
He sighs as he rubs his beard, looking at me skeptically. “These are dangerous questions you’re asking. Where are you going to publish this?”
“In American Life Magazine. Hopefully.”
“Can’t you write about something else?”
I glance at the timer and start to panic when I see there are only two minutes left. A minute thirty-five after the bartender returns and slaps the beers onto our table.
Cameron lets out a weird sort of growl when the bartender goes to say some smart ass remark to me.
Without a word, the bartender quickly leaves.
“Did you just growl at him?” I ask, staring at him in shock.
“Yes.”
I’d like to get into that more, but the clock is ticking and my five minutes is almost up.
“Who is Dylan Burton?” I repeat.
He sighs. “A notorious mercenary and my former boss.”
“You worked for him?” God, the stories I heard about this evil man…
“He was the leader of our group, but we kicked him out after an… incident. He then led a team of wolf…”
“Wolves? What?”
“A team of men, bikers actually, who were causing all kinds of shit around the world. Bad stuff I’d rather not get into.”
I’m on the edge of my seat. “What happened then?”
“We went after him—”
“Operation Storming?”
“Yeah, that’s the one. We hunted him down and Easton over there threw him off a cliff.”
“Is he dead?”
“Yeah, he’s dead.”
“So, this mercenary group,” I say, talking as fast as I can while the timer runs down, “does the UN know about this?”
The timer goes off and my shoulders drop. “I just have a few more questions!”
“Nope,” he says as his eyes brighten. “It’s my turn.”
“What could you possibly want to know about me?”
“You’ll see.”
He grabs my phone and resets the timer.
I take a sip of my beer as I see it starting to count down.
“Have you ever been with another man, Mary?”
I spit my beer all over him in a spray. “What?!”
He wipes his face down with his big palm and then leans forward until he’s only inches away from me. My heart is pounding as his rugged cologne hits my nose. At least, I think that’s cologne. It might just be his manly scent that’s getting me all worked up.
“I said,” he repeats in a low growly voice that has my pussy throbbing with heat. “Have you ever been with another man?”
I shake my head as I stare into his eyes, completely transfixed.
“No,” I whisper. I don’t know why I’m letting him in on the most personal part of me, but I do. It’s like he’s taken over my mind.
He breathes a sigh of relief as he watches me. Everything about him is looser now. His shoulders, his chest, the way he’s sitting. It’s like knowing that I’m a virgin gives him a tremendous sense of relief.