No Risk Refused

The hands were not so familiar, but as they gripped her waist and pulled her closer, pleasure rippled along her nerve endings. She tipped her head up as he lowered his. He was close now. In another second, his mouth would… With a sigh, she let herself sink into the kiss.

* * *

THE INSTANT THE driveway curved past the stone arch, Cam spotted Adair. He’d taken three steps toward her before he realized he was moving. She had her feet propped up on one chair, her eyes closed, and her head resting on the back of another. A wiser tactic might have been to turn around and continue on to the castle. He wanted to ask Vi to give him her take on the bridegroom in the upcoming wedding.

But a good agent took advantage of every opportunity to gather all kinds of data. It had been too dark in the foyer last night to get a good look at Adair. This was his chance to study her. If he could pinpoint just what it was that drew him, he might be able to figure out a solution.

While he crossed to her he had time to refresh his memory of that neat, trim little body. She was wearing shorts, and he noted that the legs were longer than one might expect in someone of her slight stature. She was still slender, but the hint of curves she’d had at twenty-one had fully matured.

As he drew closer it was her face that drew his gaze and stopped him in his tracks. Maybe it was because he’d never seen her asleep before that he hadn’t noticed how fragile she looked or how really delicate her features were. He’d nicknamed her “Princess” to annoy her, but he’d never thought of her as one. Princesses needed white knights to rescue them and fight their battles. When he was ten he’d never thought of her that way. If he’d had to play with a girl, he’d figured she was okay. She could handle herself.

But right now, nestled on that chair with a curl tumbled across her cheek, she looked vulnerable, someone a white knight would want to protect and cherish. And it wasn’t a fire he felt spreading through his blood; it was something much warmer. He found it nearly as intriguing as heat. And probably more dangerous.

Still, he ignored the impulse to walk away and said, “You’ve got to stop slaving away like this.”

The voice had her eyes snapping open but her mind still clung to her dream. In it, Cam’s mouth had been on hers. Now reality registered slowly. Blearily, she made out long legs clad in worn denim. She shifted her gaze upward, taking in the narrow waist. The chambray shirt was rolled up revealing muscled forearms. A big man, she thought, broad shouldered. One hand gripped the handles of a canvas bag; the other was long fingered and resting on narrow hips.

But even when she managed to raise her eyes all the way to his face, it took a second for her mind to fully focus. Her heart had already begun to race, her body to weaken before recognition slammed into her.

“Cam?” She blinked again, trying to gather her thoughts.

“Forgotten about me already, Princess?”

“Adair,” she corrected automatically. Some of her strength returned. “I must have fallen asleep.” And he’d sneaked into her dream just as he’d sneaked up on her when she was asleep.

Asleep?

She shot a panicked look at her watch, then let out the breath she’d been holding. If she’d drifted off, it hadn’t been for long. But her brain still seemed to be operating on a three- or four-second delay. She got to her feet and found herself craning her neck to meet Cam’s eyes. She hadn’t had to do that in the foyer last night. Not when she’d been face-to-face with him on the floor.

The Sutherlands were all tall, but she could have sworn that Cam had grown even taller since she’d seen him last. And he’d changed. At her father’s wedding he’d still been partly a boy. Now she was facing a man, and as she looked into those blue eyes her throat went dry and something was happening to her knees.

No one had ever affected her this way. She had to get a handle on it. She couldn’t afford to let some man befuddle her brain again. Pushing past the dryness in her throat, she said, “What are you doing here?” Brilliant. “I didn’t hear your car.”

“Some bat out of hell ran me off the road.”

Her eyes widened. “When?”

“Half an hour or so ago. Red convertible. She looks like Marilyn Monroe and drives like she’s in the Indy 500?”

Adair nearly smiled. “That was Bunny Maitland, the MOB, otherwise known as the Mother of the Bride.” She ran her eyes over Cam again, stifling the urge to linger. “You look fine. How’s your car?”

“Needs a tow.” He set down the canvas bag. “But I enjoyed the walk. Is Blondie the MOB in this Saturday’s wedding?”

She narrowed her eyes. “How do you know about the wedding?”

“Sheriff Skinner mentioned it when I dropped in to tell him that you and Vi had discovered one of Eleanor’s earrings. According to him, the whole village is talking about the rich couple from Long Island who are getting married here. They’re hoping they’ll spread the news about what a lovely spot you have here and increase the tourist trade.”

“That’s the plan,” she said. “What’s yours? Has our security system passed muster?”

“Not yet.” Cam had to bite back a smile. This was the Adair he remembered, just a little on the pushy side. “Can you show me where you and Vi found the earring?”

“Over here.” When she started to tug on one of the heavy pots overflowing with blooms Cam grabbed the other side to help her shift it.

Pointing to the rocks and stones that still lay strewn at the base of the arch, she said, “This is where we assume Alba found the earring. We heard her digging around on this side, but we didn’t actually see where she found the leather pouch. Aunt Vi and I searched through these stones to see if we could find the rest of Eleanor’s dowry, but they’re essentially where we found them.”

Cam swept his gaze over the side of the stone arch. It was about ten feet long and the height stretched to about ten feet. The rocks varied in size and offered enough small ledges and handholds that he and his brothers had scaled the thing countless times. In fact they’d even had team relay races with the girls. He’d always chosen Adair because she hadn’t been afraid.

Angus One was supposed to have built it himself but Cam figured he’d had some help lifting the bigger slabs, and he must have possessed a natural talent for engineering. The thing had stood there for over two hundred years.

“Did it take a direct hit from the lightning?” he asked.

“If not, it had to be close. We were in the middle of the wedding rehearsal, and when the storm thundered in, the closest place to take shelter was here. Most of the wedding party was already beneath it. When the lightning struck, the impact was enough to tear the bride out of the groom’s arms and into the minister’s.”

Cam pictured the scene in his mind. “If I were the groom I might take it as a warning and back out.”

“He’s not the problem,” Adair said.

Cam studied her. “He’s not?”

She shook her head. “The wedding will solidify some business arrangement that he has with the bride’s family. So her parents are on board, too. And the bride is depending on the legend to provide her happy-ever-after. It’s all good.”

Her words were saying one thing, her eyes another. Adair’s eyes had always been so easy to read, and she was worried. She might have more to worry about than she knew. The business merger side of the wedding fit in perfectly with Gianni Scalzo’s M.O., and that argued Daryl’s instinct might be right.

He shifted his gaze to the stones and spotted a small crevice where the rocks and smaller stones might have fallen out. Dropping to his knees, he slipped his hand inside.

“There’s nothing there,” Adair said. “I told you Vi and I already checked to see if there was another pouch.”

“There are more loose stones.” He pulled one out, half the size of his palm, and poked his hand in again. He pulled out an even-larger one.

Adair dropped to her knees and tried to get a look around his shoulder.

“I can’t quite finesse this next rock, but I can feel space behind it.” He grunted, then said, “Yeah, I think we’ve got something here.”

6

“WHAT? Another pouch?” Adair asked.

“Can’t tell. First I need to get past this stubborn rock. If I could just get a good grip…”

“Let me.” Moving on her knees, she wiggled closer until she was practically plastered to his side. “My hand’s smaller.”

She slid it into the opening. When his rough palm slid over her skin, heat streaked to her toes. “Get your hand out, so I can try—”

He turned his head and suddenly they were face-to-face. All she saw were his eyes. They were so dark, the color of the sky near twilight.

“Try what?”

The words had her dropping her gaze to his mouth. That was exactly what she wanted to try. The taste she’d sampled in her dream hadn’t been enough. When his hand wrapped around hers, she felt the heat sear through her right down to her toes. His lips were close, only an inch away. All she had to do was eliminate that small distance and all her dreams and fantasies would become real. She would finally feel the pressure of his lips; she could finally taste him. Lord, she could smell him. Soap and water and something that was different. Male. Just breathing in had the intense and achy need inside of her sharpening. And it wasn’t going to go away. Unless—