No Risk Refused

“We should—” she began.

“Yeah.”

Later, Cam wasn’t sure who moved first. All that mattered was that their lips brushed, met. And clung. Heat exploded at the contact and spread like electricity along a hot wire. Then, each scrape of teeth, each tangle of tongues upped the wattage.

He streaked his free hand up her side and around to cover her breast. Then he pulled his other one out of the crevice so that he could hold her fully against him.

Blood roared in his ears. Desire hammered at him with a sharpness he’d never felt before. He wanted her, wanted to peel those clothes away and explore every curve and angle. He wanted to feel her skin grow hot and moist beneath his hands. He wanted her beneath him again. No woman had ever taken him this far with only a kiss. In another moment…

Cam had no idea what finally gave him the strength to pull back. They were both panting. Nothing else marred the silence other than the distant hum of a hedge trimmer, a soft breeze at the tops of the pines.

“That was…” She broke off as if at a loss for words.

“Yeah.” That was the single one he could latch onto.

“Crazy.”

“Insane,” he agreed. And Lord help him, if he could just kiss her again, he’d take the straitjacket.

“You and me. It would be a mistake.”

“Probably.” He moved his hand to the back of her neck and fastened his mouth on her throat. Her scent was stronger here—fresh flowers and sunshine. He found it incredibly erotic.

“We can’t… We have to… Stop.”

That one word had him struggling to latch onto a thin thread of control. He raised his head, but he couldn’t take his eyes off hers. And he saw himself completely enclosed in the misty green.

“Just one more taste.” She fisted a hand in his hair and drew his mouth back to hers. Heaven, she thought. And hell. His mouth was so skilled and much more potent than she’d ever imagined. With his teeth and tongue he nibbled, then devoured, seduced and then possessed.

Oh, she’d expected the heat, welcomed it as it flooded through her again. But the intensity of it—the way it sizzled and burned, singeing, then melting everything in its path. That was so new. So amazing. She wanted more. She wanted to crawl right into him until she dissolved and the terrible need inside her eased.

When he ran his hands down her sides, she felt his touch in every part of her body. Her breasts ached, her thighs trembled. When he drew back she wanted to cry out from the loss.

“Adair, we have to finish this inside.”

“Inside?” The word floated into her consciousness through a thick fog. “Finish this?” Finally, his meaning penetrated. Shock tore through her when her first reaction was to say yes. Still, it took all her focus to say, “No.”

He dropped his hands and sat back down on his heels. She had to brace herself against the stone arch or slide bonelessly to the ground.

What had she been thinking?

The answer to that was pretty simple. She hadn’t been thinking at all. Except about what it might be like to kiss Cam. And now that she knew…

“We have to think about something else.” Fast, Adair thought. “We were searching for the rest of Eleanor’s jewels.”

“Right.” It shocked Cam that the jewels had slipped entirely from his mind. There’d been no room for anything but Adair. Before this, desire had always been enjoyable, simple. It had never slashed through him until the wanting had been…everything.

Think about something else.

Edging farther back, he dragged his gaze away from her and glanced at the crevice.

“You think the rest of the jewels might be in there somewhere, don’t you?” she asked.

“I think it’s odd that you only found one earring.”

“Okay. So we need to check it out. But this time we take turns. I’ll go first and try to loosen the stone you were working on. Once I have it out, you can work on the next one.”

Cam had to smile as he edged even farther away and gestured her toward the small hole. “This is only a temporary solution to our problem.”

She shot him a look over her shoulder. “I know. But I need to think about it.”

“Go ahead.” He knew the value of analyzing data. He just wasn’t sure how much time either of them had for that.

Adair reached in and slid her fingers around the edge of the rock. Then she began to wiggle it back and forth. “It’s coming. Slowly.” She had to use both hands to pull it through the opening. Then she moved carefully out of his way. “Your turn.”

The instant Cam reached in, his fingers brushed against something with more defined edges than a rock. Dipping one of his shoulders, he leaned closer to the opening so that he could get a better grip. Carefully, he slipped his fingers over the top and finessed his thumb beneath it. Then he tugged.

“You’ve got something,” Adair said.

“A box, I think. But it’s snugged in pretty tight.” His fingers slid off, but not before he felt it give a little. He tried again, and this time it moved a couple of inches.

“It’s coming.” The next sixty seconds seemed to go by in slow motion, but inch by inch he tugged and pulled the box closer and closer until he could get a good enough grip to drag it all the way out.

Once he set it on the ground between his knees and hers, Adair could do nothing but gape at it. She was looking at the box she and her sisters had buried seven years ago.

Cam fingered the tiny padlock. “Shall I do the honors?”

“No.” Snatching it up, she clutched it to her chest, out of harm’s way.

“That lock is pretty flimsy, but if you’d rather, I have a set of lock picks in my room.”

“No. You can’t open it. Eleanor’s jewels aren’t in here.”

Cam studied her for a moment. “And you know this because?”

Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. “Because my sisters and I buried this box on the night our parents were married. What’s in here is very private.”

“Really?” Cam looked at the metal box.

Adair frowned at the intrigued look on his face.

“How in the world did you get it in there without coming across the pouch with the earring?” he asked.

“We didn’t bury it on this side. We loosened some stones on the inside of the arch.”

“And you’re not going to let me see what’s inside?”

Adair narrowed her eyes. “What don’t you understand about the word private?”

Cam held his hands up, palms outward. Adair was about to say more when they heard a car on the graveled drive.

Adair shot to her feet. “That’s my one o’clock appointment.” She looked down at her dirty knees and scowled. She didn’t even want to think about what her hair might look like. No time for a shower. But she could at least tidy up.

Amused, Cam watched her bolt into the garden and race for the back door of the castle with a death grip on the mysterious metal box. Not that it was any of his business.

But secrets had always intrigued him.

Whatever they were, they’d caused a very pretty blush to spread up her neck and across her face as she’d warned him off. Discovering people’s secrets was one thing he was very good at, and working in the CIA had honed that particular skill. One way or another, he was going to find out what was in that box.

But there was other business he needed to take care of. Taking out his cell, he punched a number he always kept on speed dial.

Daryl’s voice mail picked up. That meant that he must be totally engrossed in his investigation. Cam passed on what Adair had told him about the Banes/Maitland wedding being connected to come kind of business merger. And he wished he didn’t have a gut-deep feeling that the bride might not be getting her happy-ever-after on Saturday.

* * *

TEN MINUTES LATER, Cam found Viola MacPherson exactly where he’d expected to find her—in the kitchen. And she was frosting a delicious looking cake. For a moment as he stood in the doorway, he was transported back in time to his tenth summer. Except for her gray hair, Viola looked the same.

The dog was new. The medium-sized mixed breed was out for the count in a rectangle of sunshine not far from Vi’s feet. The security system they had was pretty good, and he trusted that Vi and Adair were religious about securing the castle at night. And the dog provided added protection. But like most people, when they were home during the day they left doors such as the one he currently stood in open.

“I don’t suppose I could talk you out of a piece of that cake,” he said.

She whirled, set down her knife and beamed a smile at him. “Cam.”

The dog raised its head, jingling the bell around its neck, and rose to its feet. Vi signaled the dog to sit as she moved to wrap her arms around Cam. The gesture tightened something around his heart.

“You seem taller since the wedding,” she said as she stepped back.