drive.
Yes, it did appear that Cam was Mr. Reclusive as Devon had suggested. Now that she’d had a taste of all that dark, broody passion, it made her wonder just how often Cam ventured out to lure a woman back to his cave.
She nearly laughed. She made it sound like he was the Beast, sulking in his lair while he waited for Beauty. But if anything, Cam was Beauty. The man was sinfully gorgeous and forbiddingly perfect.
And he could make love like a dream. She’d wear and feel the effects of his lovemaking for a week. A sharp tingle snaked down her back, invading her limbs, bringing awareness and arousal all over again.
She gave one last look to the imposing structure as the car turned the final bend of the driveway. Then with a sigh, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes.
* * *
Cam stared through the slat in the blinds of his upstairs office as the car bearing Pippa back to the city drove away. For several long seconds, he continued to stare, even when it disappeared from view.
He turned away and stood for a long moment, hands thrust into his pockets. It annoyed and bewildered him that he had no idea what he was going to do next. He experienced a sudden surge of restlessness, an urge to go do something, although what, he had no idea. He only knew that being here, alone, in his too-quiet house was suddenly…unbearable.
He scowled. It was the damn woman. He’d been caught off guard by everything about her. Maybe he’d expected someone more like Ashley. Sweet, shy, innocent, naive, a bit vulnerable, in need of protection. Maybe his ego had been stroked by offering Pippa a night in his bed. Maybe he thought he’d been granting her a favor while indulging in what he’d wanted to do from the moment he’d met her.
Instead, she’d rocked his world. This was a confident, self-assured woman who wasn’t afraid to reach out and take what she wanted, and she’d wanted him. His ego should be assuaged by that. But he found himself disgruntled because…the damn roles had been reversed.
It was almost as if she had been the one to say, Hey, I want you but I don’t want any strings. She’d taken control.
He’d acted like an out-of-control, desperate, raging sex fiend. Nothing like the composed, commanding man he liked to present to the rest of the world.
And that…well, that bothered him. A lot.
Shaking his head, he walked down the hall back to his bedroom. He entered hesitantly, which was stupid given that he’d seen her drive away, but somehow her presence was still firmly imprinted. He could smell her.
His gaze traveled over the rumpled bed linens, the mussed pillows. One of the sheets was barely clinging to the bed. Most of it was on the floor.
He should have taken her to one of the guest rooms. He didn’t bring women to his bedroom. Ever. If he’d actually been thinking the night before, he would have remained downstairs where she wouldn’t have breached the areas private to him at all. But the only prevailing thought he’d had was to get her into bed, however fast he could do it.
Lust was a bitch.
A controlling, fickle mistress from which there was no escape. At least not when it came to Pippa Laingley. Maybe now that he’d had her six ways to Sunday, his blood would cool and he wouldn’t lose his damn mind every time she came within a hundred feet.
His gut told him this was in no way true, but for his peace of mind, he was going with it.
He walked into the bathroom, wincing at the mess facing his cleaning lady. The shower door was still open. Towels had been discarded on the floor. The countertop was a mess thanks to his impatience. He’d swept the surface bare with a quick hand right before lifting Pippa onto the edge so he could have her again.
There were at least two discarded condoms on the floor.
He gingerly leaned down to toss the one by the sink into the nearby trash can and then went for the one on the floor by the shower. He used a tissue to pick it up and started for the trash can when he noticed something that sent panic knifing through his stomach.
He froze, unable to even process the evidence before him. Then a string of obscenities blistered the air. His stomach balled into a knot. Sweat broke out on his forehead and his mouth went completely dry.
He closed his eyes, willing it not to be so, but when he reopened them, he saw irrefutable proof in his shaking hand.
The condom had torn.
Four
Pippa was tempted to throw her cell across the street, but only the knowledge that she’d have to replace it kept her from giving in to the urge. What else could possibly go wrong today?
She’d found the perfect place for her bakery and catering business. It was in a nice area. The terms were satisfactory. It had already been outfitted with the necessary facilities. All she’d need was a little remodeling to the front to accommodate eat-in customers and she’d be set.
After so long doing word-of-mouth events, she was ready for a more solid step. One that would give her a steady income versus never knowing when she’d land her next gig. Her meager savings had kept her in her current apartment, but if she didn’t start bringing in a regular income, it would be gone in a year.
She was certain she could qualify for a small-business loan, but in order to get the necessary funds, she needed a signed lease. Which she had, at least until her Realtor had called her to inform her that there was a problem.
Suddenly her dreams of cute cupcakes, yummy little pastries, intricately decorated bonbons and delicious-smelling breads evaporated.
She blew out her breath in a cold fog and mounted the steps to her apartment. She fumbled with the lock just as her cell phone went off, which only renewed her desire to toss it into oncoming traffic.
She managed to push inside to where it was a great deal warmer, and after kicking the door shut with her foot, she glanced down at her phone. It wasn’t a number she recognized, but given that she’d handed her number out to potential clients, she couldn’t afford not to answer the phone.
With a sigh, she punched the receive button and put it to her ear. “Pippa Laingley.”
She was in the midst of trying to shrug out of her coat when she heard Cam’s voice over the line.
“Pippa, it’s Cam.”
She paused and then chuckled, leaving her coat dangling from the arm that was bent to her ear. “Well, hello, Cam. What a surprise. I distinctly remember you saying you wouldn’t call. To what do I owe this honor?”
“One of the condoms broke,” he said tersely.
She quickly switched the phone to her other hand so she could shake away the coat. She left it there in the doorway and walked toward her living room, sure she hadn’t heard him correctly.
“Say that again,” she said shakily.
She sank onto the couch, clutching the phone tightly to her ear.
There was an indistinguishable sigh and then he said, “The condom we used in the shower. It broke. I didn’t discover it until after you’d left. Since we were in the shower, there would have been no…evidence…at the time. I didn’t notice.”
Her heart lodged solidly in her throat and she closed her eyes. No, she wouldn’t have noticed, either.
He’d been insatiable, but then so had she. The very last thing she’d considered at the time was whether the condom had performed as expected. Obviously if it would have happened at any other point, they would have known. But in a shower?
“Pippa, are you there?”
The strident demand shook her from her thoughts.
“I’m here,” she said faintly.
“There are things we have to discuss.”
She frowned. “Why are you only just now calling me? When did you discover this?”
There was a pause. “I found it yesterday after you left.”
“And you’re only just now telling me?” she shrieked. “This would have been good to know yesterday when there was something I could have done.”
Even as she was furious at him, she wasn’t sure what she would have done. A morning-after pill? It would have been a bit late for t
hat, but what did she know about such things? She could have at least done some research and made an informed decision.
“Calm down, Pippa.”
The condescension in his tone just pissed her off even more.
“Don’t tell me to calm down,” she seethed. “You aren’t the one who has to live with the consequences of that broken condom.”
“Don’t I?” he snapped. “If you think an unplanned pregnancy doesn’t affect me every bit as much as it does you, then you’re delusional. Now quit shouting at me so we can discuss our options like adults.”
She bit hard into her lip to prevent the outburst straining to break free.
“Now, I assume from your reaction that you aren’t on any sort of birth control.”
“No one can ever accuse you of being stupid.”
“Cut the crap, Pippa. I get that you’re scared and caught off guard. This isn’t a picnic for me, either. You taking this out on me helps neither of us.”
Realizing she was doing exactly as he’d accused, she went silent, her grip still tight around the phone. She should have thrown it when she’d had the urge. If she had, she wouldn’t be having this harrowing conversation right now.
“I think you should move in with me, at least until we know if you’re pregnant.”
Her mouth fell open and her brow creased in disbelief. “What?”
He sighed again. “Perhaps this isn’t a conversation we should be having over the phone. I can pick you up in an hour.”
She got her wits back in time to utter a hoarse, “No.”
“Then what’s your preference?” he asked impatiently.
She put her hand to her temple and dug her fingers into it, massaging the increasing ache.