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Wicked Pleasure


Had Davinda abused him? How else would a woman like Davinda have been able to abuse or molest him, unless she drugged him? And that would have destroyed Cam. He would have never wanted anyone to know.


At fifteen, a young man’s pride was so fragile anyway, just being defined. He had just lost his parents, Chase was as wild as the wind and grieving in other ways, and Davinda Morris could have easily exploited his developing sexuality.


Why hadn’t she realized before now? She had suspected the darkness inside him had developed in the military; now she suspected it had developed long before that.


No, she knew it had. It had called to her as a young woman, drew her, made him more dangerous, more exciting than a boy her own age. Cam was the dark prince, the sensualist, the dangerous bad boy, and the wildness she kept locked inside her had always known that.


Chills were sweeping over her body, premonitions of knowledge racing through her, as she jerked to her feet, ignoring the wine that sloshed over her hand. She finished the last quarter glass in one drink and fought back a scream of rage.


She knew that was what happened. Cam was so totally certain of himself, so dominant and fierce, and he had been so when he was younger as well.


Oh, God, the hell he would have gone through.


The wineglass clattered on the table as she tried to set it down, while fighting to hold back her tears. If he came downstairs and saw her upset, he would demand to know why. And she couldn’t let him know what she suspected. He had fought so hard to hide it, to preserve his own sense of strength.


She covered her lips with shaking fingers and inhaled roughly. She could be wrong, but she knew she wasn’t. And she knew the only way to find out for certain was to call Tim Bridges or her father and demand to know.


She couldn’t call from here. There was too great a chance of Cam coming in during the conversation. She would call tomorrow, while she was locked in her office, and she would find out what her father had hidden from her.


And there was no doubt he’d hidden it. He had warned her away from Cam every time he so much as suspected she was watching him, or had been in contact with him. He had been firm, demanding. She was to stay away from Cameron Falladay, because men like that could only destroy a woman.


Learning a truth her father knew, that Cam would never want her to know, would destroy Cam. It would have back then, and she was terrified it would now. Some scars never healed, and she knew scars that went as deep as something like that would always strip a man to the bone.


She was so immersed in her thoughts, so torn by the pain roiling inside her at that moment, that the sound of her cell phone ringing nearly had her jumping out of her skin.


Jerking it from the coffee table, she flipped it open quickly and brought it to her ear.


“Jaci Wright.” She inhaled slowly as she answered.


“Jaci, it’s Moriah.” The other girl sounded panicked, terrified. “Annalee called.”


Jaci grew still, her eyes going quickly to the stairs.


“What does she want?”


“She saw us talking at the party,” Moriah whispered fearfully.


“We knew she would.” Jaci kept her voice low, calm. “Has she threatened you?”


“She wants me to have you meet me tomorrow evening at a hotel downtown. I’m to tell you that there are some clients that will only be in for a few hours and that you have to be there. She and Richard will be there instead.”


Jaci inhaled deeply. There wasn’t a chance in hell.


“Call her back, Moriah. Tell them I don’t meet potential clients like that. I’ll meet with them at your apartment instead. We need control. You know how to set up the video equipment, and you can do that in advance. They know you’re scared, they won’t suspect we’re doing this.”


“What if they refuse?” Moriah’s voice shook with fear.


“Then there will be no meeting,” Jaci told her patiently. “Settle down, Moriah. It’s coming together. Tell them I’m paranoid, they’ll believe that. Everyone knows I always meet potential clients in safe atmospheres. Now, call them back and tell them I’ve agreed to meet them at a restaurant or other public area. When they refuse, you suggest your apartment. Act as though you’re trying to be helpful.” Jaci could feel her palms sweating now. “Let’s get them where we need them and then I’ll take care of the rest of it.”


Moriah knew electronics. She knew how to set up the video camera they had bought and how to make certain both sound and video covered the right room when Jaci met with Richard and Annalee.


She could hear the other girl breathing harshly, thinking, trying to calm herself. The Robertses had the power to make Moriah lose all sense of calm or confidence.


“We can do this,” Moriah finally said. “This will work, won’t it, Jaci?”


“It’s going to work perfectly,” Jaci promised her. “We’ll record them admitting to what they’ve done. People like Richard and Annalee love to brag when they have the upper hand. Look how smart we are. Look how good we were. Richard especially. He can’t resist it. We’ll use that against them now.”


It was coming together. She would take care of the Robertses, then she could concentrate on Cam and this relationship. She knew what he needed, and in a way, now she understood why he needed it. Once she talked to her father, she would have the details she needed, and then she could make this relationship work.


“What about the twins?” Moriah asked. “How will you get away from them?”


“I’ll just borrow Courtney’s car for a meeting. Tell the Robertses that I said I’ll be bringing a friend if it’s an evening appointment.” There wasn’t a chance Cam would let her out alone in the evening if he so much as had an itch of suspicion. And he would have. “Tell them the best time is an afternoon meeting. Three would be perfect. Play them, Moriah. Tell them you can’t make me suspicious, and that demanding anything more would do so. Play on their paranoia.”

“Jaci, what if they don’t believe me?” Moriah’s breathing was fast and hard, her voice just a shade whining, when Jaci wouldn’t have expected that from her.


They had planned for this day for too long.


“They’ll believe you if you do as I told you to,” Jaci told her firmly. “We’re not going to balk now, Moriah. If we’re going to stop their threats and lies, then we’re going to stop them here, or it will never be over. Is that what you want?”


“I’ll go insane if it doesn’t stop,” she whispered tearfully. “They’re evil, Jaci.”


“Just remember that while you’re talking to them. Tell them I can only meet them at three and only in a safe location. You’ll suggest your apartment, and tonight you’ll set up the video camera.”


“Okay.” Moriah breathed out roughly. “Okay, I can do that. You’ll take care of the rest, right?”


“I’ll take care of the rest, Moriah. Everything will work out. You’ll see. Call me back and let me know what they say.”


She disconnected moments later. It had taken a few more very firm reminders to Moriah to breathe and stop panicking. Jaci stared at the phone as she lowered it back to the table.


Moriah had rarely shown Jaci this side of her. Confidence normally oozed from the girl’s pores—until Annalee had demanded her help.


But Moriah had been damaged by the Robertses, while Jaci hadn’t been. Jaci had been terrified, her reputation damaged for a while, but other than pissing her off and shadowing the relationships Jaci had tried to make, they hadn’t really scarred her mentally.


Just physically.


She rubbed that scar at her hip and sighed heavily at the memory of that night. Annalee dressed in leather, a strap-on penis waving in front of her body while her secretary and Roberts knelt at her feet.


It would be amusing if it hadn’t been so damned terrifying.


One thing was for certain, she couldn’t live here in Alexandria, she couldn’t protect Cam, if she didn’t do something about the Robertses. And the time was now.


24


She was curled up on her end of the couch, a frown on her face as she watched the news channel. Only Jaci would watch the news to go to sleep, Cam thought with a silent laugh.


Then he saw her lower lip trembling. He saw the shimmer of tears on her lashes. Then, he noticed other things: The tip of her nose was red, her face pale. He had seen her cry only once, long ago. If he remembered, Charlie Mack had tried to run Chase down on the street. Cam had beat the hell out of him but Charlie had laid in some hard punches. When Jaci saw the blood on Cam’s face, she had cried. And her dad had dragged her away, scowling, furious.


“Jaci.” He knelt beside the couch and touched her face as she tried to duck away.


The shimmer of tears were tracks on her face and he felt his heart stutter to a stop within his chest.


Jaci couldn’t cry. God help him, he couldn’t stand this.


“Sweetheart?” He fought to keep his voice low, comforting, when all he wanted to do was howl in rage at the pain on her face. “Baby, what’s wrong?”


“I’m okay.” Her voice was more angry than hurt. “I’m just a foolish woman. PMS. Moodiness. Whatever.”


She wiped at her face and stared at his chest as he stared down at her, trying to figure this one out. Jaci didn’t just cry. And he had a feeling that if the effects of PMS were going to show themselves, then he would be in no doubt when they hit or exactly what they were.


“I don’t like it when you lie to me,” he told her gently, pushing her hair back from her face to reveal her profile. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re crying?”


He couldn’t stand this. He would fix it. No matter what it took, he would take the pain away and make it better if he could. If he couldn’t, well, he’d just have to kill anyone who had done this to her.


“You don’t have to be honest with me. Why do I have to be honest with you?” Her words seemed to echo through his head. He knew what she was talking about, and he couldn’t face it. Not yet. Not right now.


“I haven’t lied to you.” He watched her carefully. “Come on, baby, this isn’t over us. You’d just kick my ass and have it done with, if it was. Tell me why you’re crying.”


She was crying because the longer she had lain there without him the more she had realized how strong her lover was. He didn’t make excuses for mistakes, hell, he never admitted to any mistakes, that she knew of. He had been so strong. Somehow he had managed to stop Davinda from destroying him, and he had kept his honor and his strength. As much as he wanted to share her with Chase, as much as he needed to, he still held back, he still gave her the room she needed to make the decision herself.


He was a good man, though his childhood must have been a nightmare.


“I need to make you stop hurting, Cam.” She straightened until she could rest against the back of the couch, until she could stare into his shadowed green eyes.


“Jaci.” His lips quirked sadly. “I’m not hurting, baby. Unless you count the hard-on I can’t seem to control around you. And I’d just as soon deal with that.”


She shook her head at that, reached out and touched the stubbly cheek. The dark shadow of a beard gave him a rakish appearance and emphasized his eyes. So light a green, she could get lost in them, become mesmerized by them.


“Can I have you on the couch, Cam?” She slid her legs around until they lay outside his powerful thighs as he faced her. Her hands went to the snap of his jeans, the zipper. “Right here, where you sleep?”


Surprise reflected in his gaze as a sexy grin curved his lips. “Sweetheart, you can have me wherever you want me. However you want me.”


Arousal sliced through the pain. Cam’s eyes lightened, turned playful, as his expression became heavier with sensuality and the shadows dissipated.

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