No Risk Refused

Totally captivated, Cam sat down in the chair and picked up the first one.

Half an hour later his view of the MacPherson girls had undergone a transformation. They might have been young when they’d penned the fantasies, but they’d had active and inventive imaginations. Though they’d definitely been written from a woman’s viewpoint, he’d been caught up in each of the fantasies. Enough that he could use a cold shower.

He’d immediately recognized Adair’s as the first one he’d read. It had been on yellow paper. Not that he hadn’t confirmed his judgment by checking the handwriting against her To Do list. That neat block lettering was a dead giveaway. And of course he’d had to read the other two. A good agent had to be thorough and look at all the data.

They’d each been incredibly arousing. Sex on demand, any time you want it, any way you want it, no strings, no holds barred. He could relate to that fantasy, all right. And the other one was interesting, too—a string of scenarios in which the woman was the seductress and always the initiator. Every man’s secret dream.

They just weren’t Adair’s. Hers was the longest and it was all about erotic sex on the run with that added spice of adventure and that hit of adrenaline. Even when they were kids she’d had that desire for adventure. It was why he’d been drawn to her and why he’d wanted to partner with her instead of her sisters. Because she could take a dare and she could issue one.

He glanced down at the block letters on the yellow pages. She’d certainly issued one now. He wanted to make the fantasy real for her, for them both. They were adults now—why not enjoy the fantasy and each other before they had to go their separate ways?

Right. Rising, he paced to the French doors, then walked back to the desk. You didn’t work six years for the CIA and not learn that things were seldom that simple.

He glared at the box. Curiosity was a very dangerous thing. It had killed the cat and it had caused Pandora to inflict chaos on the world. Now he had a feeling that it was going to play havoc with the life he’d built for himself. One that he’d been totally satisfied with until he’d seen Adair again.

He folded the papers, put them back in the proper compartments and replaced the box in the drawer. Then he strode out of the office, across the terrace, and followed the path Adair had taken into the woods.

8

ADAIR STRIPPED OUT of her T-shirt, then slipped her sandals off and wiggled out of her shorts. Beneath, she wore a white string bikini that she’d put on that morning just in case she had a chance to get a swim in before lunch. Then she folded her clothes and placed them on a flat rock at the edge of the water. The pond that lay at the base of Tinker’s Falls was one of her favorite places on the castle property. The falls themselves were part of a stream that wound its way down the mountain. Twenty-five feet above, the water narrowed, then dropped in a clear curtain to the pond below. Behind the curtain there was a secret cave.

For as long as she could remember she and her sisters had used the place as their own private swimming pool. Flat ledges of rock flanked the top of the falls on either side and made perfect spots for sunbathing. Or diving. She walked to the edge of the pond.

It was about thirty feet long and twenty-five wide. And it wasn’t really a pond. In sixth grade science she’d learned that it was a deep plunge pool left behind when the glaciers had melted. There was plenty of room for the lap swimming she’d done at college.

Anticipating the shock, she dived into the water, then surfaced with a thrilling shiver and set out for the other end. A vigorous workout usually helped her think clearly, and Lord knew she could use a little clarity.

What in the world was she going to do about Cam Sutherland? Reaching the other end of the pond, she tucked, curled and then pushed off with her feet. So much was riding on establishing the reputation of Castle MacPherson this summer. She might have come up with the business plan on the fly, so to speak. In fact, she might never have thought of the potential business opportunity at the castle if she hadn’t been fired. But lightning strikes and possible runaway brides aside, she was beginning to enjoy the wedding business. It was exciting and satisfying to help young couples plan the most important day of their lives. She even liked the constant challenges. Not that she wanted any more lightning strikes.

She just didn’t have time for a complication like Cam. She surely didn’t have time for some adolescent action/adventure fantasy. Did she?

She let the question hang there for three more laps before she ruthlessly shifted her attention to another equally pressing problem. Barry Carlson, Rexie’s first husband. There was a good chance that Rexie was still in love with him. Was Barry still in love with her? She let herself consider that for five more laps. Calling Montana to find out what Barry’s feelings were was about as smart as kicking a hornet’s nest.

And just about as risky as thinking seriously about giving in to her attraction for Cam Sutherland. How in the world had she become a woman who was so attracted to living on the edge?

But wasn’t that one of the reasons she was so drawn to Cam? He was dangerous for her in a way that Baxter DuBois had never been. Bax had represented what she’d convinced herself she wanted in a man. Someone who had the same goals and wanted the same lifestyle. She’d felt comfortable with him. Maybe that’s why she’d let him talk her into the team partnership idea. And look how well that had turned out.

She’d never felt comfortable with Cam. He’d always stirred her, aroused her, challenged her. And those feelings had grown even more potent over time. What else could he make her feel? She wanted to know how much more there was.

This time when she tucked, curled and turned, she struck out for the left side of the falls where she’d left her clothes. Reaching it, she pulled herself out of the water and climbed up to the ledge of rock that bordered one side of the falls.

The sun was hot overhead, the wide, flat rock warm beneath her feet. Inviting. A quick glance at her watch told her that she could afford to stay long enough to dry her swimsuit. That would be practical.

And it struck her suddenly that there had to be a practical way to solve the situation with Cam. They both wanted the same thing. A fling. Why couldn’t she just look at it like a wedding plan, a short-term event that fulfilled both party’s dreams? And then life would go on.

As she stretched out on her back, using one arm to shield her eyes, she started working out the approach she would take with Cam. But it was kicking hornets’ nests that she was thinking of when she fell asleep.

* * *

CAM STOPPED AT the edge of the trees to watch her climb out of the pond. She looked like some kind of nymph with her hair slicked back, the water sliding off of her body. She wore nothing except two scraps of white that had his mouth going dry as dust. And her legs—he’d gotten some hint of them before, but with nothing marring their length they were making him sweat.

She was strong, he noted as he watched her climb to the top of the ledge. When she rose to her feet and stretched her arms upward, it wasn’t a nymph he thought of—but a goddess. Her guts he’d never doubted. But the fearlessness he saw now and the vulnerability he’d glimpsed earlier were new. And they fascinated him.

He’d done his best to avoid thinking about her for years. Now he couldn’t stop. And he wanted to know more. Still he didn’t move toward her.

Everything should be simple. She wanted him and he wanted her. More than that, he was beginning to learn the way her mind worked. He thought he knew the approach to take. A practical one.

So why wasn’t he moving? No woman had ever made him hesitate before.

Dammit. He strode forward into the clearing and circled the pond, approaching the ledge from the back side. When he made it to the top he stopped again, surprised to see that she appeared to be sleeping and hadn’t heard his approach.

He glanced around. There was no one upstream. The trees pressed in on all sides of the falls, offering at least the illusion of privacy. His approach as well as any noise he’d made climbing up the rocks had been totally masked by the crash of the falls below.

He shifted his gaze back to Adair and stopped thinking of anyone or anything else. It had only been a matter of a few hours since he’d kissed her. The desire to do so again had only grown as he’d imagined her in each of the girlish fantasies he’d read. That was a hell of a lot of foreplay for a man.

And what she was wearing—or more specifically, not wearing—nearly had his tongue hanging out. Her skin was the almost-translucent color of fine porcelain and nearly all of it was showing.

He dropped to his knees, not fully recognizing that’s what he’d done. Then he simply couldn’t stop himself from touching her. Reaching out, he traced one finger over her cheek, then down her neck, and he felt the shock of the contact shoot through him with the intensity of a flame. All thought of his simple straightforward strategy slipped from his mind as he continued to run his hand lightly over her skin.