orbs and picture frames arranged on top. They were the only personal touches he’d seen in the house so far.
A black-and-white photo showed an attractive couple— must be her mum and dad—standing at a bar with Frank Sinatra. The second picture was of Stella with two other girls, a redhead and a brunette, on a beach somewhere. The third showed her standing in front of her office beside a brassy looking older woman, however the sign read Diamond Detective Agency.
The last photograph intrigued him enough that he picked it up for a closer look.
Stella posed up front, clutching an American football, with her three brothers standing round her. She looked quite disheveled, young and carefree and grinning like mad. The younger two lads looked annoyed and mischievous while the oldest’s eyes were focused on something other than the camera. His halfhearted smile failed to mask the aggressive intensity of his gaze. The photo must have been taken before.
“Give me that.”
Stella reached for the photo and tore it from his grasp. Her attitude up ‘til now had been prickly. At the moment she seemed genuinely furious…or was she merely defensive? As she set it back on the armoire, he caught a flash of sadness in her eyes before she turned on him.
“You don’t follow directions worth a damn.”
“Never have done, actually. It’s saved my life a time or two.” He wasn’t supposed to know about her brother and so kept his sympathy to himself.
She shoved at his upper back, pushing him toward the door. “It won’t save you from me if I catch you in here again.”
He swept his gaze over the snug jeans and damp cotton top she’d put on and grinned. “I promise not to go near your bed without a proper invite.”
“Don’t hold your breath.” As they approached the foyer, she thrust a sheet of paper at him. “Here. This is Cavanaugh’s work schedule for the next couple of days. He’s got the graveyard shift tonight, the same tomorrow and Wednesday.”
“Thanks.” He folded the note and tucked it into his hip pocket. “Nice place you’ve got. Bit sparse on furnishings, though, eh?”
“I don’t want you to feel welcome.”
The look on her face was dead serious. He hadn’t expected her to forgive and forget after the way they’d parted, but the fact of the matter was he’d come back for her. And if that meant a proper courtship, so be it. He sighed and slid his hands over her waist, gently tugging her toward him.
She tensed, resisting his touch, but didn’t struggle away. She challenged him with her gaze, rejection darkening her eyes. And yet he saw the flush of color on her cheeks, felt the sudden catch of her breath. Stella had a tough shell but underneath, he knew, was a molten core.
Not that she was soft, far from it. She’d like as not thump him for saying so. It wouldn’t be easy to win her over, but he’d have a go at it all the same. She was more than worth the having.
He reached up to free her hair and then stroked his fingers along the side of her neck. “I’m no damned good at this, Stella. But, I’m willing to try. Now that I’ve returned, I want to pick up where we left off.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Simply Irresistible
WE’D LEFT OFF IN BED, naked and insatiable for each other.
I didn’t want to pick up from there. I wanted to back up several steps, both figuratively and literally. Things were moving too fast again. But I stayed where I was, even grasped his biceps, enjoying the feel of hard muscle and hot skin under my hands.
When Stone dragged his right thumb across my lower lip, I gasped, barely resisting the urge to take it into my mouth. Faint lines of amusement bracketed his eyes, though his expression remained predatory. He looked like a man who wanted a woman and knew he could have her.
I bit his thumb.
He chuckled but wisely moved his hand. “You’re a fiery woman, Stella. Wicked sweet. And damned if I’ve not missed the feel of you.”
My pulse fluttered as his big hands slid down my hips to glide over my butt, pulling me closer to the erection testing the zipper of his jeans. As they flattened against his chest, my breasts ached with a need echoed in my womb. His heat seeped into me, warming me in too many places.
Closing my eyes, I inhaled the faint citrus smell of his hair and the purely male scent of his skin. My hands caressed the taut muscle beneath his shirt. I rubbed up against him like a cat in heat, while his hands seemed to touch me everywhere at once. It wasn’t enough.
Dark greedy desire permeated every fiber of my being. Yes, it was stupid, risky even, but I wanted him. It had been like this from the first moment we’d met. Something about him ignited my basest need for hot, wild sex. He slowly lowered his head and, eyes still shut to everything except the anticipation of the moment, I turned my face to meet his kiss.
Instead he nuzzled his soft lips against my temple and growled in my ear. “You’ve a way about you. Makes me want to strip you bare, to feel your heat and your passion. Remember how it was between us? Like capturing lightning in a bottle.”
I almost moaned aloud at the images replaying in my head. He’s got the kind of voice that lends itself to seduction, a blend of smoky resonance and rich brogue. It’s one of the reasons I’d fallen for him in the first place, one excuse for what happened…
“It will only be better this time, Stella.”
He lowered his head and I finally got that kiss. I’d braced myself for—hell, I’d counted on—a hot, urgent plundering that would fan the burning need inside of me and have us going at it on the foyer tiles. Instead, Cameron took me off guard, brushing his mouth slowly, oh-my slowly, over my lips.
The sweet thrill of his touch, combined with the spicy taste of him, seduced me. I could feel long unused parts gearing up for action but he resisted when I tried to take the lead. Although it’s so not my personality, I sat back to enjoy the ride.
Slanting his mouth over mine, he enjoyed my lips as though they were something precious, cradling the back of my head with unexpected and unwarranted tenderness. Which thoroughly confused me. I raised my palm to his chest and pulled back, then realized that placing my hand over his heart was a mistake. The strong, steady beat was a false promise of durability and commitment.
Stone didn’t relinquish his hold on me. “Let me have you, Stella. Let me make you my own.”
That did it. I broke free, staring at the floor while I tried to collect myself, and instantly missed the feel of him. If I were honest, I might admit that I’ve missed him all along. But I’d eat the engine out of my Harley before I told him so. The last man who’d attempted to possess me, make me his, hadn’t lived to regret it.
“I did that once, but didn’t care for it.” I’m a pretty good mimic, so I got the accent down cold, but my voice wasn’t bass enough for a perfect imitation. Stone recognized his own words anyhow.
“Is it over, then?” His tone was colored with as much defiance as disbelief.
Stone’s personality was magnetic, hypnotic, overwhelming. I didn’t want to be his, not at the risk of getting lost in his shadow. My gaze settled on his left arm. The short sleeve of his T-shirt revealed the tattoo on his triceps. The winged dagger with Who Dares Wins etched below it said a lot—and reminded me how little I really knew about him.
“Let’s be honest, Stone. It never really began.”
Finally I looked up at his face. I’ve seen photographs of glaciers in Alaska, formed by weight and weather and time until the core turns a bright, frozen blue. Stone’s eyes are that color. I wanted to look away but wouldn’t allow myself the cowardice. “We’re strangers who shared an incredible night once, who now have to work together temporarily, and that’s all.”
His