Cameron stormed into his large master bedroom and slammed the door shut behind him. He twisted the lock, sure that Sarah Redden wouldn’t disturb him, but it was best to be cautious. He didn’t want a knife in the gut. Although, he figured she was smart enough to realize that if she finished him off, there was not going to be any other escape from the island.

He kicked off his black combat boots. They were far too heavy for the heat of the day. He longed to slip into a pair of khaki shorts and a pair of leather sandals but he would be damned if Sarah Redden saw him in anything so casual.

The massive bed felt like heaven the second Cameron slid his tired body between the sheets. It didn’t matter that it was the middle of the afternoon and sunlight poured through his window. He’d been awake for the past thirty-six hours. First he’d had to wait in his private helicopter, for Sarah Redden to be brought to him. He was ready by then, supplies packed and on board. His men had taken longer than expected. Cliff’s cheek was ripped open and bleeding. Cameron hadn’t even asked how it happened.

After arriving at the island, which was situated in the heart of the Caribbean, Cam waited anxiously for Sarah to wake. That too had taken longer than expected. He was exhausted with all the waiting. The anticipation of delivering the long awaited blow about her brother’s plans being diffused had fallen flat for him. He blamed it on his exhaustion.

Though he was exhausted, sleep refused to come. When Cam closed his eyes he was annoyed to find Sarah’s face swimming through his mind. Not even he could deny that she was a beautiful woman.

Hers wasn’t the kind of model beauty found in the pages of a magazine. No, she was far more beautiful for being real. His sleep deprived brain recalled, in startling detail, Sarah’s heart shaped face and creamy skin. Her small nose turned up just at the end and was set off by high cheekbones. Her lips were far too full and lush for their own good. He’d guessed at what colour her eyes would be before she opened them. He wasn’t disappointed to find them a light brown with the most exotic amber flecks. When he’d cut her bonds and she’d sat upright, he’d been able to gauge just how long her ash blonde hair really was. It fell halfway down her back, even tangled and matted as it was from her ordeal. Strands of it fell over her shoulder and framed her face, only serving to make her features that much more alluring.  She was tall for a woman and thin but when he’d lifted her out of the chopper it didn’t take long for him to realize that she had all the womanly curves required.

How she was the sister of Trace Redden, Cam would never know. She was far too incredible. Even with a tux on and a whole hell of a lot of polishing up, Trace still looked like a goon. He had a scar on his cheek that was a couple inches long. Probably from a knife fight or a drug deal gone wrong. He radiated hardness. It was a wonder that Veronica was attracted to the man but then his sister always had a good heart and a soft spot for charity cases. Cam wasn’t even sure how his sister met Redden in the first place. He’d never asked, just warned her time and again against the man.

How right he had been. And now, ironically, he was the one paying the price. He was supposed to have kidnapped Sarah Redden yet it was her honey eyes that swam through his mind, haunting him when he needed to rest. His hands ached to touch her thick, soft hair one more time. Her body was that of a siren, calling to him.

“For fuck sakes!” Cam threw back the thin sheet and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He ran his hands over his face and sighed in irritation. The woman was a minx. She was as bad as her damn brother. She wasn’t a woman at all but some kind of witch. He was far too tired for this bullshit.

Cam moved to his bedroom window and glanced out at the island. It had been his private refuge since he’d purchased it three years ago. He hadn’t brought a single soul there, not even Veronica. He had taken his sister around the world, to any place she ever wanted to see but this island was his. It was like a piece of his soul. He always found his peace. Except today.

The sun was high and the breeze was warm and tropical. The days on the island felt like they lasted forever. The nights were sultry and close enough to be welcoming. Usually. Right now the sunlight burned through his exhausted brain like a brand. He blinked hard, head pounding from lack of sleep. From the window he could just see the beach.

Cam froze. He noticed a small figure in a short black dress picking her way through the sand. She stooped and bent, clearly intent on picking something up or arranging something. Cam wanted to tear his eyes away. He wanted to climb back into that bed and forget all about his annoying guest, but he couldn’t. His gaze remained locked on Sarah Redden.

Whatever she was doing, she was hard at it. He wondered what she could be dragging, what she could be laying out.

Then it came to him. She’s building a signal on the beach.

“Oh no. No fucking way. Not today.” Cam stormed away from the window, raced through the large bungalow and outside. There was no chance in hell that Sarah Redden was getting off his island until he said so. No chance in hell.

He ran out onto the beach, sand flying up and scattering every time his bare feet dug in. Sarah saw him coming. She froze and dared to stare him down.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Cam demanded angrily. He was panting, not from his rapid fire sprint out of the house but from the potency of his rage.

Sarah’s eyes narrowed. The sun illuminated the gold flecks in them and played over her ash blonde hair like a halo. The fact that he noticed both of those things only added to his rage.

“I was dragging palm fronds onto the beach. Thought I would spell out a word for myself,” Sarah spat.

“SOS? What the fuck are you thinking!” Cam stalked round the beach, kicking at the carefully laid out fronds. When he was finished he whirled, chest heaving. He didn’t expect Sarah to launch herself at him like a spitting wildcat.

She knocked him to the sand, screaming obscenities and beating his chest furiously. Cam was so shocked at the force of her anger that all he could do was lay there and take the pounding. Most of her blows glanced off him harmlessly but when she landed one to his jaw that stung so bad, he let out a low, menacing growl and grabbed her wrists in his hands. He held her fast and that only turned the burning rage in her eyes to an inferno.

“Let me go! Let me go asshole!” She screamed. He held her fast, waiting for her to calm down so he could speak to her rationally. With his own rage riding high, he doubted that either of them would be able to form a coherent sentence for quite some time.

Sarah finally stilled, realizing that fighting him was futile. As both of them calmed down, Cam realized that she was straddling his waist and her little black dress she’d worn to the club where his men had found her the night before, had ridden way up exposing a delicate set of black lace panties.

She seemed to realize the precarious position she was in at the same time he did. She froze. Her mouth parted slightly before she slammed her lips closed. Her tongue darted out to moisten them and the action sent a jolt of pure, raging desire right to Cam’s groin.

Before she could notice what she’d just done to him, he lifted a leg and sent her sprawling into the sand beside him. He quickly clamored to his knees and rose to his feet.

When she’d recovered from that shock she glared up at him. “You are a pig Cameron Spade,” she screamed. She picked up a handful of sand and threw it towards his face.

Cam turned away at the last second. He was almost glad to see Sarah so unnerved. He didn’t like the calm, collected way she’d looked at him after she’d woken earlier that afternoon. No, he liked to see her ruffled and out of control.

He liked it far too much.

Cam pushed that annoying realization to the back of his mind. “You are not leaving this island until I say so. I thought I made that clear. Actually, we both know that it’s not me who has the say. It’s your brother. As soon as Trace hands those photos over, you can go home. Don’t think about leaving until then. Don’t make me tie you up again either. I’ve given you free range of this island because I’m not the beast you think I am. I gave you my trust and you’ve already abused it. See that it doesn’t happen again or I can make your stay here very uncomfortable.”

Sarah’s eyes widened slightly before she realized she was reacting to him and quickly schooled her features into a black look of rage. “I hate you. The whole world hates you. Did you know that?”

For some reason her words cut deep. Cameron kept his own face a careful blank. “No more signals. No more trying to escape.” He ground out. He was rewarded with a look of pure, undiluted hatred. “Remember that I’m your ticket out of here. If anything happens to me, you’re going to be stuck here for a very long time. I hope you understand that.” Cam didn’t wait for her to respond. He stalked angrily away.

He was nearing the house when Sarah, wildcat that she was, passed him. She slammed into the bungalow and a minute later he heard the reverberating echo of her door being rather less than gently closed.

He shrugged off his anger and his foul mood. He couldn’t let Sarah Redden of all people get under his skin. So what if she looked like a sensual goddess? So what if her face haunted him to the point he was denied rest? She was just another woman. He’d had others, just as pretty, just as sensual and shapely. Even some just as wild. She was just a woman.

He chanted the words over and over in his mind as he fired up his barbeque. He’d put a couple steaks on and let the smell waft right to Sarah’s open window. She hadn’t had anything to eat in over a day. She was probably starving.

He figured that was about as good a revenge plan as any he could muster up on short notice.