Chapter Eight
The hatchet man was waiting for her when she got home.
Fatigue and uneasiness settled over Lexie when she recognized the black SUV parked in front of her house.
Twilight had long since given way to a warm summer night, yet the big vehicle seemed to soak up whatever light remained around it.
She slowed as she made her way up the private road.
Underhill Manor and its grounds were gated from unwanted guests, yet somebody had let him in—or given him the gate code.
He didn’t normally come to the family house to do business, but things were obviously changing.
She pulled into the little turnaround drive and saw him sitting on her front steps, looking patient yet observant.
Like a wolf watching careless prey come too close.
Heartbeat speeding up, she shifted into park and braced herself. She was too tired to deal with the man. Any time he came near, electricity seemed to spark and sputter. It left her feeling drained by the time he walked away, and the day had been long already.
Yet in some ways, not long enough. She missed Roxie, even though she’d just left her.
Pushing away the unfamiliar separation anxiety, Lexie killed the engine.
She could still feel Cam watching her as the dome light shone down upon her.
It made her feel as if her innermost secrets were being exposed, and she leaned over to grab her things.
She hesitated when she saw the carryall with her proposals on the passenger seat.
She’d forgotten about them until Roxie had found them when they’d gone to get their DNA tests.
Looking at them now, Lexie couldn’t believe how the idea had consumed her for the past month.
It seemed like such an inconsequential thing after the day she’d had.
Still, something deep inside her didn’t want Rowe to see them. Leaving them where they were, she grabbed her purse and got out of her car. The dome light turned off, but the headlights took longer. They bathed her in artificial light as she circled the car to approach her enemy.
If that’s what he was to her anymore.
Her cheeks warmed. She’d let him get too close during her walk on the wild side. Way too close.
He watched her silently. The little black dress she’d borrowed from her sister had looked simple and comfortable on the hanger, but she hadn’t realized how the soft material would cling to her curves or how low the scooped neckline would sit on her breasts.
Rowe saw it all in one quick sweep. “You’re getting home late.”
“What are you doing here, Cam?”
“Waiting for you. You didn’t call.”
“Neither did you.”
The timer on her headlights went off and they dimmed, leaving the two of them alone in the dark. The moon was at a low crescent stage, and its bluish light was more tactile than illuminating. It only hinted at lushness in the foreground or danger in the shadows.
Lexie’s heart began beating double time. Was he here to tell her that she didn’t have time to figure out what her next move would be? That the family had decided she needed to leave the company immediately?
Or was he going to kiss her again?
He rose from his seated position to stand on the steps in front of her, a hard, dark presence she could feel more than see. The air stirred, and she felt his fingertips brush over her cheek. “Are you feeling better?”
Heat washed through her, and she stepped back, nodding.
“You look better.”
The main house wasn’t that far away, but a bend in the road and the crest of the hill hid the gatehouse from view.
It had been designed that way to give guests their privacy and to leave the view from the main house’s veranda uncluttered.
Lexie had always liked that about her little cottage.
It gave her the independence she wanted but kept her close to the family she craved.
Tonight, though, everyone seemed too far away. With the moon just peeking at them, they could have been the only two people in the world. Her fingers curled around her keys.
“Why don’t you come inside?” she found herself saying.
She didn’t know which was worse, standing alone with him outside in the dark or in the well-lit privacy of her home, but she wanted to know what had happened at the office.
Worry had been niggling at her all day. She couldn’t forget how quickly he’d left when her father had called.
Had the billboard story blown up? Had her marketing team suffered any setbacks due to her…
situation? Most importantly, had he told anyone about Roxie?
Sucking in a breath, she climbed the steps to the door. Cam turned, and she accidentally brushed against him as she walked past. She nearly dropped her key, but he reached out to steady her.
“I’m not drunk again,” she said defensively.
“It’s dark out here.”
Dark. Close. Secluded.
His heat slid around her, and her key clanked against the metal lock.
Finally, it slid into the keyhole. Pushing open the door, Lexie reached inside for the light switch.
Relief spread through her when the entryway brightened.
She stepped inside away from him, but just like that, her discomfiture returned.
The two-bedroom bungalow was her home, her space, her private hideaway. If she’d been uneasy having him in her office the other night, this was a thousand times worse. Her grip on her purse tightened.
She’d been in a rush to get to the office last time she’d been home.
A pillow sat on the floor in the living room, where she’d sat cross-legged as she’d practiced going through her pitch.
The light from the entryway stretched into her bedroom, gently illuminating her unmade bed and a pink babydoll nightgown.
And her proposal! The original draft version and her notes were spread out on her dining room table right in front of them.
Moving quickly, she gathered up the papers and set her purse on top of them.
The click of the door had her spinning around.
The tiny house seemed even smaller with him inside it, and she shied away.
There was nothing here to be ashamed of, nothing to surprise or shock, but it was her life set out on display.
She hadn’t decided whether or not to let this man into her world, but he’d barged in with all the delicacy of a battering ram.
Although she may have left the drawbridge down over the moat last night.
She rubbed her bare arms and felt her right foot instinctively cocking back onto its heel.
Cam looked around the place with interest. “Your mother didn’t decorate this.”
The statement unarmed her. Why would he say something like that?
“Except for that,” he said, pointing at a brass urn on the entryway table.
Lexie found herself at a loss for words. She hated that particular piece, but Anne Marie had insisted that a vase with flowers was too pedestrian.
“Or that.” He was nodding across the dimly lit living room to the picture of still fruit over the fireplace.
His eye was just a bit too good. Lexie’s foot came down, and she walked to the kitchen. Privacy was swiftly turning to intimacy. She filled herself a glass of water at the sink and looked over her shoulder. “Do you want anything?”
His eyebrow lifted. “I’m good.”
She drank thirstily. The glass let out a soft ring when she set it on the counter, and she wiped her hands over Roxie’s dress.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come home tonight at all,” he said, “but I took a chance you didn’t want to sleep on that foldout again.”
Lexie’s nerve endings were tingling. They’d shared that uncomfortable bed, and he knew it. He was watching her, waiting for a reaction. He got one. Her entire body flared, but she tried her best not to let it show.
She cleared her throat. “Roxie wanted to spend the night here.”
“So you two worked things out after I left?”
“I tried to explain Julian to her.”
“And how he’d think that having the Underhills should be enough for you?”
Lexie licked her lips. If anything, this man saw her too clearly. “She’s coming over tomorrow morning instead.” She smoothed the soft dress over her stomach. “We’re going to tell the family.”
“Are you ready for that?”
She hesitated. Honestly, she wasn’t sure. Half of her wanted to get it over with. The other half wanted to learn more, to figure out the best steps to take and the right questions to ask. “We both want some answers. I’m just afraid…”
“Of what?”
“That somebody’s going to be hurt.” She rubbed her temple. It wasn’t going to be as easy as the reunion stories in the newspaper or on TV. Feelings were going to be raw. Roxie was already upset that they’d been split up. They both were.
With a sigh, Cam walked over and held out his hand. “Let’s sit down.”
Lexie stared at that hand. Last time he’d touched her, it had been on her breast. Strong, hot and sexy. She inhaled shakily, but he caught her hand before she had time to protest or pull away—or reach out first.
She followed along as he led the way to the living room.
She wished she’d turned on more lights, but he walked right by the switches into the living area.
He guided her towards the sofa and she sat, feeling the weight of everything pushing down on her.
Instead of sitting in the overstuffed chair to her left, though, he sat down in front of her on the coffee table. His nearness made her muscles catch.
“What time is she coming by?” he asked.
They were sitting so closely, their knees nearly brushed.
He was wearing a black T-shirt that showed the hardness of his chest and stretched around the curved muscles of his arms. In khakis, it was the most casual she’d ever seen him, yet the inner wolf was even more visible.
Outside she’d only been able to feel him.
Here in the dim light, she could see him, feel his heat and watch his dark eyes as they watched her.
“It’s a family matter,” she hedged.