Too Wilde to Tame Read online

  In that brazen, unapologetic way of hers, her eyes followed the light sprinkling of hair covering his pecs, all the way down his abdomen, past his navel, to the waistband of his jeans. She licked her bottom lip, prompting him to recall how soft and warm that tongue of hers had been when she'd taken his hard cock deep inside her mouth.

  His lower body stirred accordingly to that provocative thought, and he bit back the groan that automatically rose to the surface. No doubt about it, this woman was going to be the death of him, and he wondered if she'd come by for the sole purpose of torturing him with what he wanted so badly. Her. Hot and melting beneath him. Again. It was clear to him that even after sleeping with her, Mia Wilde was far from being out of his system. He was beginning to wonder if she ever would be.

  She stopped in front of him, close enough to touch, tempting him to reach out and run his fingers through her hair, pull her close, and kiss her senseless. Instead, he leaned casually against the doorjamb and crossed his arms over his chest.

  "So, what brings you by?" he asked in a lazy drawl.

  Her full breasts rose and fell as she inhaled a deep breath, and something akin to distress flashed in her gaze. The brief glimpse was quickly masked by that tough facade of hers. "Something's happened, and I need your help."

  He raised a brow, both intrigued and concerned by her statement. He couldn't begin to imagine what had happened for Mia to admit she needed help, let alone come to him of all people for it. But whatever had transpired, it seemed serious, and he wasn't about to turn her away without hearing what she had to say first.

  "Come on in." He stood aside so she could enter the house and then shut the door after her and led the way into his kitchen.

  He opened the refrigerator and grabbed himself a cold beer, thinking he could probably use something stronger to deal with Mia, but he wanted his wits about him tonight. "Would you like something to drink? I have water, soda, or beer."

  She shook her head. "Nothing for me, thanks."

  Twisting the cap off the bottle, he tossed the metal disc into the trash and took a seat on one of the kitchen counter bar stools across from where she was standing. Distance was the key with this woman, he decided, because any kind of close proximity was dangerous as hell to his libido. Except the counter cut off his view of her at the waist, drawing his attention to her low-cut, snug-fitting, lace-trimmed camisole top and the way the soft pink cotton material molded to her voluptuous breasts.

  Oh, hell.

  Forcing his mind to concentrate on the situation at hand and not on Mia's very luscious body, he guzzled a long drink of his beer as he lifted his gaze back up where it belonged and took in her expression. He could immediately tell by the crease of her brows that she was upset about something, even though she was trying hard not to let it show.

  It was such a novelty to him to see yet another side to her persona, to realize that Mia was a woman with real feelings and emotions, and even had a few chinks in that headstrong personality of hers. He wondered what really lurked beneath all that bravado of hers and then decided he was probably better off not knowing.

  "So what's up?" he asked, turning the conversation toward business and the reason for her impromptu visit.

  She met his gaze, not as the sultry seductress he'd come to know, but as a woman seriously in need of help. "I received something very disturbing in the mail today."

  That immediately piqued his interest as well as his P.I. instincts. "What, exactly, did you receive?"

  "Pictures. Of me. They were taken last Friday night at The Electric Blue," she explained calmly. "But it's not the pictures that bother me so much as what someone wrote on them."

  Cameron was more curious than ever. "Do you have the pictures with you?"

  She nodded. "I figured you'd want to see them, so I brought everything for you to look at." Opening her purse, she pulled out an envelope and then handed it to him from across the countertop.

  Setting his beer aside, he checked out the envelope, front and back. He noticed that Mia's name and address had been typed out and there was no return address, though the postmark indicated the envelope had been mailed from Chicago. He withdrew the contents, unfolded the plain piece of paper, and checked out the enclosed photos and the offensive slurs someone had written across each one.

  On one hand, he was stunned by the degradation behind the pictures and insulting words. On the other, he'd always known Mia's reckless behavior had the potential of courting this kind of trouble. But that didn't mean she deserved to be the target of such a sick and deranged joke.

  "Not very flattering, is it?" she asked, striving for a humorous approach to the pictures that showed her wilder side with four different men-him included.

  She was trying to be light and breezy about the photographs someone had taken of her without her knowledge, but there was nothing remotely amusing about her predicament. Someone obviously had some kind of grudge against Mia, and they were intent on exploiting and scaring her.

  He arranged the pictures on the counter so he could compare each one and met her gaze. "Do you have any idea who might do something like this?"

  A wry grin canted the corner of her mouth. "If I did, I wouldn't be here."

  "Good point," he murmured. Mia never would have dropped by his house to see him on a personal, intimate level. No, their very brief affair was done and over with, and other than a business-related issue, there was no real reason for them to spend time together.

  "I have no idea who sent the pictures, or why," she went on, her tone frustrated as she waved a hand toward the photos. "There wasn't a note in the envelope, or anything else to indicate what the person wanted."

  He rubbed his hand along his unshaven jaw as he studied the prints again. The images weren't crisp and clear, indicating that they'd either been taken with a camera phone, a disposable camera, or by an amateur. "Well, they don't appear to be professional shots."

  "I thought the same thing myself." Mia bit on the corner of her lip and then met his gaze. "I thought of something when I first saw the pictures."

  "And what was that?" he prompted.

  "I saw my neighbor there Friday night hanging out with a few of his guy friends," she explained. "I always thought Will was a nice enough guy, and I've never felt uncomfortable around him or threatened in any way, but I suppose he could have taken these photos."

  He frowned, not quite following the conclusion she'd drawn. "What makes you think your neighbor might be responsible for the pictures?"

  "I've seen him taking pictures around the apartment building with one of those big, bulky cameras," she said, gesturing with her hands. "You know, the kind with the big lense that looks way too complicated for a novice to use."

  Abrupt laughter escaped him. "I highly doubt a camera of that caliber would take such grainy pictures." And he should know, because he and Steve used a professional Canon when a client requested photos of their investigation.

  Her shoulder lifted in a half-shrug, giving her breasts a sweet, eye-catching bounce. "Maybe's he's just learning."

  "Maybe." Cameron wasn't about to dismiss any possibility. "But why would he take pictures of you with other guys and write these words on them? Has he asked you out before and you turned him down?" It was the most plausible motive he could come up with.

  "No." She absently tucked back a strand of silky black hair brushing along her cheek. "We've talked a few times, but there's never been any kind of attraction between us."

  Cameron didn't want to analyze why her answer relieved him so much. He didn't want to give a damn about her social life with other men, and he definitely didn't want to think about another man touching or kissing her the way he had last Friday night. But after having tasted what it was like to be with her so intimately, he was beginning to care too much.

  "I'm just going on the fact that he has this camera and I've seen him use it when I've been around," she continued, completely unaware of the direction Cameron's thoughts had wandered. "His apartme
nt balcony is across from mine, and he's got a perfect view of my place. And a few weekends ago when I was laying out by the pool I saw him standing out on his balcony with his camera. As soon as he realized I was watching him, he hurried back inside his apartment. At the time, I didn't think much of it, but now I can't help but wonder."

  Mia's concerns were believable, and warranted. "Well, he's certainly worth checking out." Cameron reached for the pad of paper and a pen he always left by the phone on the counter, prepared to take notes to pass on to Steve, who would most likely handle the case. "What's Will's last name?"

  She blinked at him in surprise. "I don't know. We were on a first-name basis only."

  "Not a problem. I'll find out." Not only the man's last name, but Cameron planned to make sure Steve did a thorough background check on the guy as well. "Let's talk about who else you remember seeing at The Electric Blue Friday night. What about the girlfriend who drove you to the place?"

  Mia came around the counter and sat on the bar stool next to his. Much too close for comfort, Cameron thought.

  "You mean Carrie Jansen, the woman we spoke to as we were leaving the bar?"

  "Yeah, her." Ignoring the awareness kicking up the beat of his pulse, he jotted down the woman's name for future reference. "She seemed a bit on edge that night."

  She tipped her head, her expression curious. "How would you know?"

  He tapped the end of his pen against the pad of paper. "Because I was watching her."

  Mia's spine stiffened, and her curiosity shifted not-so-subtly to indignation. "You were?"

  He nodded, barely able to suppress a grin at Mia's reaction. "Actually, she asked me to dance."

  A fascinating flash of jealousy passed across her features, an emotion that pleased him way too much, because he'd like to believe that on some level that show of envy meant she cared. Maybe even more than she, herself, realized. He found that bit of knowledge both exciting and disconcerting.

  A few long seconds ticked by before he finally let her off the hook. "I turned her down, and she didn't seem too happy about that." But amazingly, Mia appeared very relieved. "Does Carrie have any reason to slander you this way?" he asked, because the woman's actions that evening had him questioning just how good a friend she was to Mia.

  She glanced back at the photos and visibly shuddered at the images and words staring back at her. "She's been moody lately, but I can't think of anything I've done to make her stoop to this level."

  Cameron wasn't so sure, but he let the issue slide for the time being. "All right. Who else?"

  She thought for a quick moment. "Other than my roommate, Gina, and her boyfriend, Ray, there was no one else there I knew personally. Just casual acquaintances I've seen at The Electric Blue on other nights."

  "I don't much care for your roommate's boyfriend." His statement was as blunt as it was honest.

  "You don't even know him," she said, laughing lightly.

  "I don't have to know a person to see what a bonafide jerk he is," he said, a thread of disgust lacing his tone. "I saw the way he treated Gina. The guy's possessive as hell, and I'm betting he's got a temper to match."

  "You're very perceptive," she murmured, seemingly impressed with his accurate assessment of the guy.

  A slow, easygoing grin eased up the corners of his mouth. "It's my job, sweetheart."

  Mia wasn't sure what affected her more, the devastatingly sexy smile on Cameron's face, or the deep, husky endearment that had slipped from his too-sensual lips. Both caused a warm, tingling rush of sensation to settle low. Then, because he still hadn't put on a shirt, there was all that naked male flesh tempting her to reach out and caress. The man had a body to die for, and she would have loved to spend hours worshiping all that lean muscle and sinew in the most reverent, thorough way.

  Back to business, Cameron's expression turned serious and focused once more. "What's Ray's last name?"

  Sighing, she attempted to dismiss her arousing thoughts so she, too, could concentrate on their conversation. "Wilkins."

  He wrote that down on his notepad, underlined the name a few times for emphasis, and then glanced back up at her. "What do you know about Ray?"

  "Actually, you pegged him pretty well. He's very controlling when it comes to Gina, and I've seen him handle her a bit too roughly a few times."

  A fierce frown pulled at his dark blond brows. "Then what the hell is Gina doing with him?"

  "I honestly don't know." She recalled Gina's split lip and the exchange they'd had a few days ago, as well as her friend's reluctance to listen to what she had to say. "I've tried to talk to her about Ray and the way he treats her, but she always has an excuse or she cuts the conversation short."

  "Sounds like a classic case of battered woman's syndrome."

  Surprised by his knowledge, she asked, "And you know this how?"

  His wide shoulders lifted in a shrug, making the muscles across his chest shift and ripple with the movement. "Those psych classes I took in college come in handy sometimes, not to mention that I've dealt with all kinds of abuse cases in my line of work. Gina's obviously being emotionally and mentally manipulated by Ray, and maybe even physically abused, as well." As he spoke, he wrote the words possible abusive tendencies beneath Ray's name. "He might have even threatened to really hurt her if she leaves him, and she's scared enough to stay in the relationship and not tell anyone what's going on."

  Mia hated the thought of her friend being in such a dark place and knew she needed to tell Cameron about her own run-ins with Ray for him to do his job and help her find out who was behind the pictures. And maybe, in the process, he could do a check on Ray to see what secrets lurked in his past.

  "He's made a couple passes at me," she said.

  That snagged Cameron's full attention. "What happened?"

  "He's grabbed my butt, which he claimed was an accident, and he's made a few lewd suggestions that he's tried to couch as a joke, none of which I found the least bit funny." If anything, she'd been not only offended, but revolted by his behavior. "I also don't care for the way I've seen him look at me, either. It gives me the creeps."

  The hand resting on the counter curled into a tight fist, and Cameron's expression darkened. "If he touches you again, you let me know," he said gruffly.

  "Why, so you can go beat him up?" she joked and batted her lashes playfully at him.

  "It would be my pleasure to kick his ass and emasculate him so he'd think twice before touching any woman ever again," he said in a deep, menacing growl.

  She rolled her eyes at his he-man approach. "You're beginning to sound like my brothers and cousins."

  He shot her a hot, smoldering look that spoke volumes and told her that there was nothing siblinglike to the attraction still simmering between them. "Speaking of which, I'm going to hand these notes over to your cousin Steve so he can follow up on these leads."

  Her amusement fled, immediately replaced by a heavy weight of dread. "No."

  He looked taken aback by her adamant tone. "I think your cousin should know about this."

  "If I wanted Steve to know about this situation, I would have gone directly to him," she said in a firm, precise tone that brooked no argument. "I came to you for help specifically because I don't want any of my cousins or brothers involved." This was an issue she wasn't about to budge on, no matter what it took to convince Cameron to take on the case.

  But at the moment, he appeared completely unswayed. "Why wouldn't you want your family to know about this?"

  She exhaled a frustrated breath. "Because once you tell Steve about the pictures, he'll tell my brothers what's going on, and before you know it I'll be under watch 24/7; they'll be pressuring me to move back home where they feel it's safe. Joel would probably assign one of his guys at his security firm to be my constant shadow, too. Being smothered by my brothers and cousins is not an option for me, and that's exactly what will happen if they get involved."

  "All our cases are handled confidentially," he said,
attempting to reassure her.

  Her laughter held a cynical edge. "Not when it comes to my family. You know as well as I do there is no way Steve would keep something like this to himself."

  He leaned back on his barstool and crossed his arms over his chest. This time, he didn't argue her valid point. "If you want the truth, because of our…"

  He seemed to struggle for the right phrasing, and she supplied it for him. "Affair?"

  "Okay, affair," he said, accepting her choice of word to describe what had happened between them that past Friday night. "Because of our involvement, I don't think I'm the right person to handle this case. Conflict of interest and all that."

  Bullshit, she wanted to say but didn't. She'd never been a potty mouth, and she wasn't about to start now. She also hated to resort to scheming tactics, but she was desperate to persuade him. "Fine, I'll handle this myself," she said abruptly and scooped up the pictures still spread out on the counter. "Forget I ever came by, and I'd appreciate you keeping this to yourself."

  He grasped her wrist before she could shove the photos back into the envelope. Her pulse thrummed erratically beneath the press of his warm thumb, and she lifted her gaze to his. Heat and desire arched between them, and she watched him struggle to keep his reaction to her in check.

  "Mia, don't be stupid," he bit out in annoyance. "You can't go off on your own with the possibility of someone stalking you."

  "I prefer not to."

  He groaned, knowing exactly what she was insinuating. "You always have to make things difficult, don't you?"

  She flashed him a sassy grin. "You should be flattered that I came to you for help."

  He lifted a brow at her attempt to manipulate him. "Flattered enough to agree to help you, you mean?"

  "It's all semantics, sugar." She shrugged and started to withdraw her hand from his grasp. "But the bottom line is, you're not interested."

  He tightened his grip, and her heart skipped a wild beat. "No, that's the problem," he said in a rough, gravely tone of voice. "I'm way too interested… in you!"