Too Wilde to Tame Read online

  "Yo, Cam. You still with me?"

  Startled out of his thoughts, Cameron jerked in his seat and shook off the erotic images dancing in his head. He glanced up at Steve from across the conference room table and was reminded of yet another reason why he'd do well to keep his distance from Mia. Any further involvement with her could only lead to trouble for him, and he wasn't about to risk his friendship and business with Steve for another tumble with Mia. No matter how much the provocative thought tempted him.

  "Sorry 'bout that," he muttered and tried to remember what they'd been discussing before his mind had taken a sharp detour down a road better left untraveled.

  "What's up with you anyway?" Steve asked as he leaned back in his chair and regarded Cameron in that speculative way of his. "All morning you've seem distracted, like something's on your mind. Rough weekend?"

  Cameron scrubbed a hand along his jaw and released a frustrated sigh. "Yeah, you could say that."

  A dark brow arched over one of Steve's blue eyes. "Does it involve a woman, by chance?"

  Cameron looked away and realized too late that by breaking eye contact with Steve he'd just answered his question with a resounding yes. "I'd rather not talk about it."

  "Well I'll be damned." A huge grin curved up the corners of Steve's mouth, and his eyes glinted with amusement. "Judging by that miserable look on your face, I'm betting some woman has finally tied you up in knots, and it's about time. You've been playing the field for much too long, and you need to settle down."

  Cameron rolled his eyes at that, because it was a comment Steve made much too frequently. "Just because you're deliriously, happily married, doesn't mean everyone else needs to be as well. Some of us are just fine being bachelors."

  "Until the right woman comes along," Steve conceded, speaking of his own experience with his wife, Liz, and how he'd resisted any kind of commitment after his divorce until she'd come into his life. "Personally, I always thought you and Mia would hook up, but I guess I was wrong. Then again, the two of you are like mixing oil and water, and you're probably better off with someone who didn't aggravate the hell out of you at every turn with her reckless, provoking ways." Steve followed that with a smirk.

  Growing increasingly uncomfortable with the direction of their conversation, Cameron shifted in his chair. The last thing he wanted to do was discuss Mia with Steve and the way they "mixed." Not like oil and water, but rather like kerosene and a flame. Once they touched, they'd ignited an intense and fiery passion that had burned hotter man anything he ever could have imagined.

  Quickly putting the mental breaks on that recollection, Cameron redirected his focus. "Has Mia always been like that?" He kept his tone light and casual, but he was more curious than ever to learn as much as he could about Mia, the girl she'd been as a child, and what had happened along the way to create the woman she'd become. He figured Steve might just have the answers he was searching for.

  Confusion etched across Steve's expression. "Has she always been like what?"

  Cameron shrugged. "You know… reckless. Wild. A daring, headstrong, pain in the ass."

  Steve's deep, humorous laughter filled the conference room. "Yeah, ever since I can remember." He thought for a moment and then seemed to grow more serious. "Actually, she was pretty mellow as a child. Until her mother died, anyway."

  Intrigued, Cameron pushed on a bit further. "What happened?"

  "I was about fourteen when my Aunt Cynthia died, and Mia was five at the time," Steve said, recalling the past. "She didn't handle losing her mom very well and started acting out in small ways at first, which was probably a normal thing. But as she grew older, and the more her brothers tried to shelter and protect her because she was the baby of the family, the more she'd rebel. So, yes, it does seem like she's always been that way."

  Cameron nodded, unable to imagine losing a parent at such a young age. Obviously, the loss of her mother had been a huge, defining moment in Mia's life that had forever changed the young, innocent little girl she'd been. He didn't have specific details and knew if he pushed for more information Steve was going to get suspicious and wonder what was up with his interest in Mia. So he kept his questions to himself. Besides, the bits and pieces Cameron had just learned about Mia's childhood was enough to tell him that she most likely had unresolved emotional issues from the past that were going to end up taking her down a path of destruction if she didn't learn to curb her daring and brazen behavior.

  Figuring it was time they finished their meeting so they could get to work for the day, Cameron shifted their discussion back to business and off of Mia. "So what else is on the week's schedule?"

  "Just one more thing. Here, I saved the best case for last," Steve said wryly and pushed a file folder across the table toward Cameron. "And I do believe it's your turn to handle the next infidelity surveillance."

  Cameron groaned as he took the file and opened it to peruse the contract and the notes the client had written on the application. He hated these kinds of extramarital affair cases, as did Steve, thus the reason they took turns investigating them when they came through the office.

  Having grown up with two parents who were still in love after forty plus years of marriage, Cameron believed strongly in the power of monogamy. If you weren't happy in a relationship and couldn't work out the problems, it was time to move on. Having an affair solved nothing and usually ended up hurting too many people once the infidelity was out in the open.

  In this current case, the husband suspected his wife of cheating on him. Judging by the comments and notes the man had written on the application, all the key signs were there: his wife working more overtime than usual, receiving hang-up calls at home when he picked up the phone, his wife insisting it was all his imagination.

  Yep, they were all classic, textbook ploys a significant other commonly used to deceive and manipulate the other person. And Mr. Shelton was most likely being duped by his not-so-loving wife. He was asking for surveillance, written reports on his wife's activities and who she spent any time with outside of the office, and pictures to use as evidence.

  Closing the file on the Shelton case, Cameron blew out a long breath. "Damn, it's going to be one hell of a busy week."

  "Speaking of busy," Steve said, a wry note to his voice. "I think we're both feeling overwhelmed by all the business that's come our way lately, wouldn't you agree?"

  "Definitely," Cameron said, nodding. "The extra work is great because we've busted our asses to get the company to this point, but I have to tell you, I'm exhausted by the end of the day." And even at that he was taking cases home with him to work on in the evenings.

  "Me, too." Steve picked up a pen from the table and rolled it between his fingers. "I've been thinking, maybe it's time to hire someone new to help us out."

  It had been him and Steve for so long, the thought of a third person seemed intrusive. However, there was no denying they were swamped with cases and the two of them were only capable of handling so much. "That's not a bad idea."

  "We've got to do something. I'd really like to have more quality time to spend with Liz and Cody," Steve said of his wife and son. "I can hardly believe we'll be celebrating his first birthday in a few weeks. Time flies when you get old."

  Cameron chuckled. "Yes, you are an old man. And I agree you should spend more time with Liz and Cody."

  "And you need more of a social life, and time to pursue things with whatever woman was giving you grief this weekend," Steve added with a grin. "So as we're in agreement, I'll put the word out that we're looking for someone experienced in the investigative field, and we'll see what happens from there."

  "Sounds good," Cameron said.

  Standing, Cameron gathered his case files, wondering what Steve would do if he knew the woman who'd given him the best kind of grief he'd had in a while was his cousin, Mia. Cameron was pretty sure he knew the answer to that. Most likely, he'd be looking for a new partner.

  AS soon as Mia walked into her apartment We
dnesday evening after a long day at work, she set her purse and the day's mail on the kitchen counter and then kicked off her heels. Out of habit, she glanced at the message center on the wall next to the phone and found a note from Gina stating that she was staying at Ray's for the night.

  Mia tried to ignore the all-too-frequent sickening feeling in her belly that accompanied the thought of Gina being alone with Ray. Gina was an adult, Mia reasoned, and even though she worried about her roommate and the man she was currently involved with, she couldn't protect Gina if she wasn't willing to admit there was a problem in her relationship with Ray.

  Retrieving a cold bottle of water from the refrigerator, Mia twisted off the cap and took a long drink to quench her thirst. Considering her own lack of a love life, which did not include her spontaneous night with Cameron, it looked like she had a quiet night of solitude ahead of her. She should have been happy about that, but she enjoyed Gina's company and had grown used to having someone else in the apartment at night, even if she was in her own room working on a stained-glass design.

  Being alone was her own fault, she knew. She hadn't had a real relationship with a guy in nearly two years. But like every relationship she'd attempted before, that one had lasted a scarce three months before she'd started to feel restless and stifled and had broken things off. It was a familiar pattern that made her face the fact that she just didn't do relationships. At least not well.

  Which was too bad, she thought as she made herself a chicken Caesar salad for dinner, because she'd really enjoyed being with Cameron the other night-their banter, her teasing, and the way Cameron had ultimately lost control with her. But it wasn't as though he'd asked to see her again when he'd dropped her off at her apartment. No, she'd gotten the distinct impression that she was the kind of woman he'd have a hot, illicit affair with but not a long-term relationship. It appeared that their fling was a one-time deal to finally get her out of his system-even if she did secretly wish for more.

  Finished making her salad, she took the plate and her water to the kitchen counter and sorted through her mail, figuring that was about as exciting as her evening was going to get She took a bite of chicken as she separated the bills from junk mail and catalogs. At the bottom of a pile she came across a regular-size envelope addressed to her, but there was no indication of who the sender was because there wasn't a return address. The envelope was bulkier than normal, indicating there was something more than just a letter inside.

  Curiosity piqued, she set her fork down on her plate and opened the envelope. She pulled out the folded piece of paper, opened it, and the contents spilled onto the counter. There was nothing written on the white stationery, and when Mia glanced down to see what had fallen out, her heart nearly stopped in her chest.

  There were five photos of her, and while the pictures were grainy, there was no mistaking that all of them had been taken at The Electric Blue last Friday night. She knew this because two of the photographs were of her with Cameron. The other three showed her with one man she'd flirted with at the bar before Cameron had arrived, and two other guys who'd asked her to dance and she'd taken up on the invitation.

  But it wasn't the pictures themselves that devastated and shocked her. It was what someone had written in bold red ink across each photo. Whore. Tramp. Slut.

  Prickles of unease skittered down her spine when she thought of someone watching her so intently with the sole purpose of taking pictures of her. The photos might have been taken in a public place, but she still felt as though someone had invaded her privacy.

  She double-checked the envelope and piece of paper but came up with nothing. There was no note or any clue as to who had sent the photos or why they felt the need to malign her with such spiteful verbiage.

  There was a wealth of anger and hate behind those words, and Mia's first instinct was to take them to work with her tomorrow and drop each one through the paper shredder and pretend she'd never received the offending photographs. But her more practical side told her this could be serious. Whoever had followed her to The Electric Blue and taken those pictures had done so for a reason. And one of those reasons had been to scare her. Though she hated to admit it, even to herself, the person's tactics had worked, because the fear making her heart pound hard and fast in her chest was very real.

  She'd like to believe this was a one-time thing, but what if it wasn't? If whoever had followed her to The Electric Blue was deranged enough to take pictures of her out in public and send the copies to her with slurs written all over them, what would stop them from possibly approaching her when she was alone and defenseless? She had no idea what this person was capable of, and she wasn't about to underestimate the situation. Someone needed to know what was going on, just in case something happened to her.

  She thought about calling her brother Joel, who was a security specialist, and immediately dismissed the idea. Same with her cousin, Steve, even though he was a private investigator. Both could help her and possibly figure out who had sent her the photos, but she knew all too well what their involvement would cost her. Not only her privacy, but her entire life would be scrutinized and turned upside down more than it already was. And of course Joel and Steve would tell Scott and Alex what was going on, and between all of them, they'd smother her with their overly protective ways and undoubtedly drive her insane.

  No, contacting her brother or cousin definitely wasn't an option. Not if she could help it. As she tucked the pictures back into the envelope, she considered her other choices, but the only other person who came to mind who could possibly be of any help to her was Cameron. If she could even convince him to help her without letting her family in on the fact that someone was stalking her. And if he'd even want to get involved with her, even on a business level, after their night together.

  The only way to find out was to ask him, she supposed. And because she wasn't about to stop by his office during the day and risk Steve seeing her with him, she'd have to meet with him privately at his house. The sooner, the better. Like tonight.

  So much for a quiet night alone, she thought as she headed to her bedroom to change out of her skirt and blouse and into something more comfortable. It appeared she'd just gotten more excitement than she'd bargained for.

  Chapter Five

  CAMERON finished up the last twenty reps on the bench press in his home gym, sat up, and reached for the towel he'd left nearby. Drenched from his hard, hour-long workout, he swiped the towel across his face and along his neck, then stood and made his way to the shower in his master bedroom. He turned on the water, stripped off his damp shirt and shorts, and stepped into the spacious glass cubicle. The cool water felt great on his heated skin, as did the hard, pulsating spray beating against his pumped-up muscles.

  After being presented with the newest extramarital case that past Monday, Cameron hadn't expected to have much free time in the evenings. At least not at home. But so far, the Shelton case hadn't required any nightly surveillance because Mrs. Shelton hadn't been working any overtime this week and had gone straight home after work. She seemed to be on her best behavior, and from what Cameron could conclude, even her lunch hours had been spent running legitimate errands. Alone and on her own.

  If Cameron didn't know better, he'd say Mr. Shelton was being paranoid about his wife's whereabouts and activities. Unfortunately, Cam knew that a few days without any contact with a potential boyfriend didn't mean Mrs. Shelton was in the free and clear. Most likely, the opportunity to meet up with her lover hadn't been convenient for either of them, for whatever reason. So Cam had to just sit tight and wait for the two lovers to make their move and then exploit the opportunity when it presented itself. He was very familiar with the process and just how long it could take to gather enough solid, accurate evidence to present to a client.

  With his hair scrubbed clean with shampoo, he soaped up his body and thought of all the other cases he'd brought home with him to work on. Most required some kind of Internet research, and because he spent a lot
of daylight hours outside the office investigating other cases, handling interviews, and tracing leads, his evenings were filled with getting caught up on paperwork and what he and Steve fondly referred to as grunt work. It was boring, monotonous work, but it had to be done. And that was a great reason for them to hire another investigator, or even an assistant who could help them do the tedious work that would free him and Steve up for other more important things.

  Finished with his shower, Cameron turned off the water and stepped out of the stall just as the doorbell rang. Swearing at the visitor's timing, he quickly dried off his body and ran the towel through his wet hair as he headed back into his bedroom to put on some pants.

  The doorbell pealed again, followed by a brisk knock. As quick as he could manage, Cameron pulled on a pair of Levis, sans briefs, and buttoned them up as he jogged down the stairs to the entryway. Once there, he opened the door to find the person walking away and already halfway down the sidewalk.

  He wasn't expecting company, but he'd recognize the sway of those curvaceous hips anywhere, as well as that sexy, heart-shaped ass that looked as though it had been poured into a snug pair of jeans.

  "Mia?" His obvious surprise reflected in his tone.

  She turned around quickly, causing her shoulder-length black hair to swirl around her shoulders like a cloud of silk. "Hi," she said, her voice catching on a sweet, breathless hitch. "You're home. I rang the doorbell and knocked a couple times, but when there was no answer-"

  "I was in the shower," he explained.

  "Oh." She started back toward the porch. "Sorry for the interruption," she murmured, but there was nothing contrite about the way her eyes took in his wet, tousled hair and then gradually dropped to his bare chest, which was still damp from his shower.