Chapter 23

Cameron was glad she hadn’t gone back to Boston for Friday-night dinner. Just the thought of trying to make small talk with her parents wasn’t something she had the stomach for. Last week’s dinner had been, frankly, horrible. It wasn’t Clarissa or Frederick, who were their usual judgmental selves. No, it was she. She was different. Changed.

Though for a year or so now—since she’d opened her business, actually—she’d been her own woman, she still was part of the Stahl fold. It used to be that going over to their place for dinner was bearable—she’d eat some bland food, gossip about their family friends, and let her parents not-so-subtly try to micromanage her life. But last Friday, she’d felt like a person apart. The way her father ate his soup, the way her mother cocked her head just so to appraise Cameron’s new haircut—every word, every gesture made her want to crawl out of her skin.

And then she’d made the mistake of telling them about her fight with Val.

Good, Clarissa had said. He wasn’t right for you, Cameron. He’s not like us.

A beer man, Frederick had muttered.

When Clarissa wasn’t watching, Cici had shot her a look of sympathy.

So she wasn’t going back for a while. She’d given her excuses to her mother about missing the dinner, but Cici had gone, mostly to reassure Clarissa and Frederick that she hadn’t been swallowed up by a black hole living in Cameron’s place, and that her brain hadn’t been turned to mush by the art class she was taking.

She really didn’t understand her parents’ reluctance to let Cici enroll in a master’s program. Maybe they hadn’t seen Cici’s work? Her sister was seriously talented, and a formal training program could only help her take her craft to the next level. Or maybe that was what her parents were worried about. Maybe they did have an inkling of how talented their daughter was, and this was a bid for them to keep her under their thumb for a bit longer. She made a mental note to tell Cici to hurry it up and get her some paintings or drawings she could actually sell. Cici seemed to be in a better emotional place, and the sooner she was professionally out, the sooner she could fully break free from their parents.

Now that Cameron knew what freedom tasted like, she wanted to share it with her sister. But was she truly free? Even though she had her own life, she still got swallowed up in Clarissa’s schemes and got dragged to events she’d rather skip. It was time to put herself first, now and in the future.

But when she’d tried to put herself first—opening up to Val, showing him how much she cared about him—things didn’t turn out the way she’d hoped. Clearly, he didn’t trust her. Otherwise, why would he have outright lied to her about his investigation?

Who did he think he was fooling, anyway? She’d been with him long enough to know the score. All he’d had to tell her was that it was confidential and she would have backed off. The last thing she wanted to do was compromise an investigation. But for him to grill her own father and then lie about his motivation? That just stung. She knew that their relationship was real—you couldn’t fake what they had together—but like always, the temptation of her family’s power and connections had proven to be too much to resist. Why should Val be any different than the other guys who’d come calling?

So yes, she was angry. Furious.

But she had a dirty little secret, too. In the dark of the night, she missed him—his smell, his feel, his touch. She’d been lonelier than she’d ever been in her life, and she knew why. Because she’d gotten her first taste of true happiness, and all the emotion that was wrapped up in it. And now it was gone.

Cameron sighed. At least she’d be back in Boston in a few days with Cici there to keep her company. It was late, but she couldn’t get to sleep. She’d had so much trouble lately, prolonging the inevitable for as long as she could, and then dragging herself to bed when she knew she wouldn’t have long to wait before sleep claimed her. Anything to prevent herself from lying in bed, alone, without him.

Cameron had just settled onto the couch in her cottage with a cup of decaf tea and a good book, when there was a knock at the door.

“Cam?” Val’s voice still had the power to make her melt, even through a door. And even though I’m still angry with him. How many days had it been since she’d heard his deep voice, seen his slow smile meant just for her?

“I’m coming,” she said.

She opened the door and her breath caught in her chest. Val stood there in the near-dark, looking just as gorgeous as she remembered. Unlike the last time she’d seen him, when he’d been wearing a blazer and slacks, tonight he was wearing a pair of jeans and a henley tee stretched tight across his chest.

The real Val.

If she looked closely, she could even see the definition in his shoulders. And his gaze was … intense.

“Hello,” she said, hating the way her voice came out all breathy. She placed a hand on the door, ready to close it at a moment’s notice.

“Hey,” he responded, giving her a look that would have melted ice. She steeled herself. He wasn’t getting off that easily.

“What do you want, Val?”

“I’m sorry,” Val said. She took a moment to process that. “Can I come in?”

“Okay,” she said, gesturing with her hand. He stepped up and in, his presence larger-than-life. The last time they’d been at her cottage together, he’d wordlessly stripped her bare and worshipped her body with his. Over and over again. “Please,” she said, indicating that he should sit.

He sat down on the sofa, far enough away that their bodies weren’t touching. God, she missed the touching, but she stood her ground. He had some explaining to do. “So,” she said evenly. “What are you sorry about?”

“Lying to you about the investigation. The DEA is investigating Congressman Kirkland.”

“I figured that out,” she said. “But before we get into all the questions I have, like what for, why didn’t you just tell me the truth after dinner? You pumped my dad for information. You even pumped me for information—information I would have told you willingly if you’d just asked outright. I thought we had something more, Val. I trusted you. And you betrayed that trust by using me to further your investigation.”

“No.” He shook his head. “It wasn’t like that. I swear.”

“Well, tell me how it was. Because from where I’m sitting, I’m feeling pretty used.”

“I admit I asked your dad about the congressman, but you have to know that your connections aren’t why I’m interested in you.” She crossed her arms under her breasts and gave him the Endicott Stare. “Look,” he said, opening his hands in what clearly was meant to be a placating gesture. “I didn’t tell you outright about the investigation because the less you know, the safer you are.”

“I don’t know what that means. The Kirklands are my friends. And why would I be in danger for something in which I’m not even involved?”

“Because you are involved, damn it! My team is leading the investigation of Congressman Kirkland for masterminding a wide-scale operation encompassing the manufacture and distribution of illegal narcotics,” he said bluntly.

“Whoa,” Cameron said, stunned. “I figured it had to do with his campaign staffers or something. I didn’t realize it would be him. Oh, God, his family! His position! I can’t even imagine it.”

“I can. Everything we’ve investigated so far points to his involvement.”

“What kind of drugs?” she asked.

“Bath salts combined with OxyContin, which happens to make one dangerous combination. We think the drugs are being manufactured in Star Harbor and then shipped out along the drug corridor on the East Coast. We’ve been seeing a ton dumped in Boston. My team wants to use you as a confidential informant,” he continued. “That’s why I didn’t want to say anything about it. Because contrary to what you thought, I don’t want you involved. I want you as far away from this case as I can get you.”

“What is a confidential informant?”

“Someone not part of our team who works with us to help get what we need. Could be an informant, an inside guy—”

“Or someone like me,” Cameron finished. “Someone who has the right connections.”

“Yes,” Val said, lips tight. “In this case, you would make an excellent CI.”

“But you told them no.”

He nodded. “It’s way too dangerous.”

So he’d lied to protect her. Not what she’d expected. “What would being a CI entail?” she asked cautiously. “I mean, I’m assuming every case is different.”

He nodded. “Yes. In this case, it would mean obtaining information that my team could use to make a case against the congressman.”

“What kind of information?”

“Anything that we can use to connect him to the illegal activity.”

“From where would you need to get this information?”

“The congressman’s Lexington domicile.” Val paused. “But we actually don’t know whether it’s there or somewhere else.”

“You’re thinking about scouting everything out at his upcoming house party, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “Which is why it’s way too dangerous.”

“It also sounds illegal,” she said with a frown.

“Not if you’re already invited into the place.” He frowned, too. “But you really don’t need to know this.”

“You’re doing it again,” Cameron told him, shaking her head. “Just forget about that for a minute. What I fail to see is why you couldn’t have told me all of this when I asked. I was so hurt that you lied to me. You say it isn’t because of my connections and you want to keep me safe, but I can sense there’s more to it than that. You’re a pretty straight-up guy, Val. Why not just tell me outright and deal with it then? Is it because you were stressed out about my family? They’re a lot to handle, I know, but I thought you managed them beautifully at dinner.” He was quiet. “Or because you thought I couldn’t handle it? My family is friends with the Kirkland family, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make my own decisions and have my own opinions.” He still didn’t talk. Maybe it was because he was still hung up on their differences in social status—differences that had come to a head last Friday at her parents’ house. She didn’t relish having the trust fund talk, but it might be time for it. “I’ve told you this before, Val: I’m not some fragile flower who can’t—”

“It’s because I love you,” he interrupted. “And I didn’t want to tell you about my investigation because I love you. Because contrary to what you might think, I didn’t want to use you to get information. At least, not deliberately. Not when you could be put in danger. When you love someone, you want to protect them. You want them far, far away from crap like this.”

She shook her head. “I’ve been longing to hear you tell me the truth, Val, but it doesn’t work like that. I don’t work like that. I told you I loved you, and when I love someone, I want to be where they are. To share what they’re dealing with. To help them.”

“Almost every single case I work on is confidential.”

“Then all you have to do is tell me that,” she said. “I’m not asking you to tell me secret stuff. But what I am asking is for you to tell me what’s going on in your life—with your work, with your family—not to shut down and lie about it when questioned.”

“I could try that,” he said slowly. She could see it in his eyes. Letting someone in close enough to help him might have been something he’d contemplated before, but he’d probably never put it into practice.

“And I could try being more understanding about the sensitive nature of your work,” she offered. “I mean, now that I know that it’s all top secret and you really can’t share the details. But you have to trust me, too.”

He nodded. “So where does that leave us now?”

The ball was in her court, and she knew it. She didn’t speak. Just slid across the sofa, closing the distance between them, leaned forward, and deliberately placed her lips against his. He groaned low in his throat, his arms wrapping tightly around her, and deepened the kiss. Desire slammed into her, molten hot, and she answered with a little moan of her own.

“God, Cam.” His gaze was so intense, so deep. “I’ve missed you.”

Me, too. She climbed right into his lap and threw her arms around his neck. “Please,” she said, and that was that. One hand around the back of her head, he claimed her mouth with such passion that she shuddered. When he tightened his grip, her body responded with a craving she couldn’t even fathom. Yes. Only with this man could she go from zero to sixty in point three seconds.

He was there too, because all of a sudden she was being carried in his arms, and then they were in the bedroom. Within moments she was flat on her back, Val on top of her, pressing her into the mattress, his mouth covering hers.

Val kissed them both breathless, senseless, and then went back for more. She couldn’t seem to get enough, touching every part of him she could reach—his arms, his back, his ass. And when she opened her legs so sweetly for him, he slipped between her thighs, wanting so badly to grind his arousal into her core. There was a sense of urgency he’d never felt before. It was because of her—this unique, intelligent, beautiful woman. Cameron had slipped into his life, filled his heart in a way he couldn’t have contemplated, offered to shoulder some of his burden. No way was he giving that up. Not now. Not ever.

When he couldn’t take it any longer, he leaned back on his heels and stripped off his shirt, loving the way her gaze swept over his torso. She sat up too, and he pulled her shirt over her head, then flicked off her bra. It was a pink, lacy affair—super expensive, he had no doubt, just like everything she owned—but he didn’t want to admire her lingerie. He wanted her. He spent just a moment sucking on each nipple, enjoying her gasps when his tongue laved over each tight bud. Then he pushed her back so he could take off her pants. She watched while he tugged her jeans and panties free, then immediately sat up and reached for his fly.

He groaned when she slid his jeans down his hips, and went to help her, but before they were even off, she’d pressed her body to his, her nipples hard little points against his chest. With her tongue in his mouth and her hand snaking down his boxers, he barely managed to wiggle free. She was rubbing against him now, doing everything she could to get him inside her. At the rate she was going, he knew she wasn’t going to last long, so he grabbed a condom from the bedside table, prepared himself, and without any other preliminary, entered her in one smooth thrust.

He swallowed her gasp into his mouth. Jesus, she was tight, but they fit together perfectly. He withdrew from her clinging heat and slid inside again. And again. When he drew a nipple into his mouth, she clasped his head to her breast.

“Val,” she said, sounding breathless. “I’m not going to last.”

“So don’t.” He slipped a hand between their bodies, found the spot that would make her go over the edge the quickest, and sent her flying.

Cameron was glorious in her moment of climax, her hair everywhere, her eyes closed, her face a mask of pleasure.

And he wasn’t done yet.

“Again,” she demanded.

Guess she wasn’t done yet, either.

“Anything you want, Cam,” he said, meaning it. She’d given him so much he didn’t even know he was missing. That she wanted something as simple as his trust blew him away. He was still buried to the hilt inside her and she clenched around his length, reminding him where he was. As if he needed any reminding.

His flesh deep inside, hips pressing against hers, he was as physically close as he could get, but he still wanted more. For a few long moments, he didn’t move. Simply grazed his lips against hers. Beneath him, she started to get restless. “Uh-uh,” he said, keeping her pinned. “You know what I want.”

“This,” she said, her hips doing a seductive dance.

“I want something else, first.”

“What?” she said, lips so close they were touching.

He raised his head just enough so he could look her directly in the eye. “I want you to say it, for real.” He craved it. Needed it. “Please.”

When she met his gaze, raw emotion rippled behind her eyes. “I love you,” she whispered.

He pulled out ever so slowly, then just as slowly slid back in, sensitive flesh dragging over sensitive flesh. She let out a little gasp when he bottomed out. So did he.

For several agonizing moments, he didn’t move. A little hand on his backside urged him on, but he simply captured her wrist and held it above her head. “Say it again.”

“I love you,” she said.

Again he pulled out, then slid back in. Beneath him, she shuddered.

There was only a little pause this time before she said it. He rewarded her by sucking one taut nipple into his mouth. The next time she said the words, she was gasping. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard.

She was shaking, a sign she was close, so he got down to business, drawing her legs around him and making each stroke count. She was still chanting the words like a mantra, I love you I love you I love you, and at some point she’d closed her eyes.

“Look at me,” he said.

She did, just in time for him to slip his finger someplace utterly wicked and watch her come undone.

Only when she’d taken her pleasure did he allow himself to thrust into oblivion, shouting out her name as he let himself go.

Later, they lay in bed, wrapped in each other’s arms, the moonlight shining through the window above them. Cameron looked like an old black-and-white photograph strategically tinted with color—her lips, her cheeks, her eyes.

As Val was admiring her, she cleared her throat. “So what is the procedure for becoming a confidential informant?”

He stiffened. “Hypothetically speaking?”

“Purely hypothetically.”

“You’d come to my office, one of my teammates or I would formally read you in, you’d sign a contract and some documents saying the government isn’t liable for anything you do that’s illegal or outside the scope of the contract, or for any bodily harm that may occur while you’re assisting us, for—”

“I know you’re just trying to scare me,” she said, cutting him off.

Damn straight. “I don’t want you doing this.”

“But it could really help your case.”

“I don’t give a damn about that if it puts you in danger.”

“So you’ve said,” she said drily. “Repeatedly.”

He cupped her face in his hand. “I don’t think you understand.” Offering her assistance was a damn sight different from giving it. And there was no way he would let her do this.

“Because you’ve been deliberately vague with me about what this actually entails,” she said, staring him down.

“Do I really need to spell out for you what happens to CIs if they get caught?”

“Look, you’re telling me that Congressman Kirkland is one of your chief suspects in a drug case with far-reaching consequences, but to nail down a case against him, you need information which I can get at a party? This sounds like a no-brainer to me.”

“It is a lot more complicated than that, Cam, and you know it.”

“You’re right. It is.” She swallowed visibly. “Cici told me something the other day. Something I can’t share fully with you because it’s not my story to share. But let me tell you that I’ve had some time to think and for once, using my social connections won’t bother me. Not with this.”

“I see,” he said, noting her intense look.

“I’m serious.”

“I get that, Cam. We can talk about it more later, if you’re up for it. But for now,” he said, nuzzling her neck, “let’s stop talking about it, please.”

“Fine,” she said, and she gave him a kiss. “You should know, though, that if I’m going to be a part of your life, there are certain things you’re not going to be able to keep from me,” she informed him.

“I’m aware of that,” he said. “We’ll figure it out soon. But right now we need to sleep. I’m exhausted.” He was, too. His week in Boston had been draining. Worrying about the operation, getting the intelligence he needed to move forward, and believing he’d completely blown it with her had all taken its toll.

Empathy colored her gaze. She ran her hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face. “Then let’s sleep.” Without any further discussion, she simply tucked herself next to his body and closed her eyes.

He closed his own, marveling at how lucky he was to have found a woman like this. A woman from a different world who somehow seemed to get him. And with Cameron nestled in his arms, he drifted off to sleep, faster than if he’d been by himself.