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“You wanted to get rid of me!”
“Then, why’d I come back to find you?”
“You didn’t. You just—you just stumbled across me.”
Cam snorted. “That can’t make sense, even to you.”
Leanna twisted against him. “Let go!”
“With pleasure. Just remember, you slug me again, I’ll—”
“You’ll what? Tie me up? Throw me over your shoulder? You already did all that, remember? What kind of man are you?”
Cam put her on her feet. “The kind who doesn’t have to put up with this crap,” he said with brutal candor. “You might want to keep that in mind.”
Leanna stared at him. Even in these ridiculous heels, he towered over her. She already knew how strong he was. Now, she knew that he’d do whatever it took to save himself from being captured.
Okay. And maybe to save her.
The wind caught at her hair and tossed it in her eyes. She lifted a shaking hand to push it away.
Had he really come back for her? It was possible. Okay, it was more than possible. Still, all she knew for sure was that he was a man who’d make love to a woman who begged him not to.
She had begged, hadn’t she? Begged him to stop. Of course she had. Those things she’d felt when he’d fondled her breasts, when he’d slipped his tongue into her mouth…
“You have a face like an open book, Salome.”
His voice was sexy and rough. Her eyes flashed to his. Did he know what she’d been thinking?
Leanna drew herself up. “In that case, you know that if you try any more tricks, I’ll—”
“What?” His eyes narrowed. “Stab me? Shoot me?” He cupped her shoulders, lifted her to her toes. “What other little toys have you got stashed?”
“Stashed?” She looked down at herself, the oversize shirt hanging open over her skimpy costume, and gave a harsh laugh. “You have to be kidding.”
“I ought to strip-search you.”
She felt heat rise in her face. “I told you, I haven’t got—”
“Yeah. So you say.” His gaze moved over her slowly, insolently, all but peeling the clothes from her body. “I’m going to pat you down, Salome. Just stand still, take it nice and easy and it’ll be over real quick.”
“No! I will not let you—” She caught her breath as he ran his hands down her arms. “Damn you, stop that! What do you think you’re—”
His hands slid under the shirt. Lifted to her breasts. His eyes locked to hers as he cupped them, feathered his fingers over the soft curves and over her nipples. His expression was coolly detached but she could see a tiny muscle beating high in his cheek.
To her horror, she felt her nipples tighten.
“Don’t,” she said, trying to grab his wrists. “You have no right…”
His hand slid over her belly.
Oh God! A quick, damp heat bloomed between her thighs.
“Stop it! I don’t—” Her voice shook. “I don’t have any hidden weapons.”
The hell she didn’t, Cam thought, and slipped his hand between her thighs and cupped her.
Her entire body went rigid. His already was. He could feel the heat of her burning his palm. Could a woman fake that? Could she tremble at a man’s touch unless she meant it? Could her body grow warm with desire unless she was eager for his possession?
