Risky Pleasures

She was different from the women he usually dated, since his taste ran to the tall, willowy, talk-only-if-you’re-asked-to-speak kind. At five foot eight, she came up to his nose. He’d discovered that fact the one and only time he’d caught her unawares and had gotten up close. And instead of a willowy figure she had a feminine one, with a small waist and seductive curves to her hips. Whenever she passed, every male took notice. And then there was her face. It seemed the hairstyle she wore, short and flippy, was created just for her; it emphasized her ethereal facial features. Dark eyes, a voluptuously formed mouth, a chin imbued with intense stubbornness, and high cheekbones, compliments of her Cheyenne ancestry from her mother’s side.

That day in the conference room he knew she had felt the intensity of his attention and hadn’t liked it. That hadn’t diminished his feelings for her, even though he’d known he should walk away and leave her alone. Ten years ago, at the age of twenty-five, he had learned one hard lesson when it came to matters of the heart. Stay clear of them. A woman who got too deep under a man’s skin could ultimately become his downfall. Besides, he needed to use his time working deals and not pursuing resistant women.

But he had ignored the warning bells and now after three years of playing a no-win game, he was ready to pursue a relationship and come out a winner. Some would even go so far as to say that he’d taken drastic measures. All he said was that there came a time when a man had to do what a man had to do. Now he was finally going to do something about this chronic tug of desire that claimed his body each and every time he saw her or thought about her—which was all the time.

Today on the beach she had been wearing a wrap over her bathing suit, but she’d still looked good. He remembered the way the straps of the wrap had hung off her shoulders and how those graceful legs of hers moved when she walked. And when she had sat down and leaned back on her arms and stretched out her legs, he had gotten a nice view of her thigh, and even from a distance he had become so aroused that he’d had to jump into the ocean waters to cool off.

Cameron couldn’t retract the smile that touched his lips. Experience had taught him a valuable lesson—if there was something you wanted, then you put all your efforts into getting it. You didn’t wait for it to come to you or you’d never have it. And he was a man with a reputation for going after whatever it was he wanted. Hence, here he was, on this beautiful tropical island, going after Vanessa.

By this time tomorrow she would know that he was her neighbor. She would also know that for the remainder of her time on the island, he intended to seduce the hell out of her.

The last time he’d come up against the Steeles, he had failed. This time he would only be dealing with one. Vanessa. He wanted her and no matter what it took, he wouldn’t fail at having her.

The ringing of his cell phone crashed its way into his thoughts. Annoyed at the interruption, he picked it up and flipped it open. “Yes, what is it?” he said gruffly.

“McMurray is trying to fight back.”

Cameron recognized the caller’s voice immediately. Xavier Kane was not only his right-hand man but also a good friend. The two had met at Harvard when Cameron was in business school and Xavier in law school. Though both had been loners, somehow they’d forged a bond that was still intact today. For years Cameron had tried to convince Xavier to come work for him, knowing it would only be a matter of time before his friend got tired of defending men who were guilty of white-collar crimes. Cameron had needed someone to have his back, someone he trusted implicitly, and X was that man. Now Xavier handled all the legal aspects of Cody Enterprises.

A faint smile touched Cameron’s lips. “He can fight back, although it’s rather late since Global Petroleum is now legally mine.”

“Well, I just thought you should know that he held a press conference today, and I don’t have to tell you that he painted you as someone who won’t have any sympathy or loyalty with the present workers when you clean house.”

Cameron shook his head. “I bet while he was in front of the camera he didn’t happen to mention how he messed up his employees’ pension plan or how they were about to lose their jobs anyway at the rate he was going.”

“Of course he didn’t. His intent was to make you look bad. And when I called him to let him know we wouldn’t hesitate to take him to court for slander, he made a threat.”

Cameron raised a dark brow. “What kind of threat?”

“That you’re going to regret the day you were ever born for taking his company away.”

Cameron shook his head. “He brought that on himself.”

“You and I both know he doesn’t see things that way. And there’s no telling what will happen when he finds out your connection to his company. After all this time he’s evidently put behind him his bad deeds of yesteryear.”

Cameron’s face hardened. “He might have, but I haven’t.”

“Just be prepared, Cam. All hell’s going to break loose when he discovers why you took his company away.”

“How he handles things doesn’t matter to me, X, and as far as I’m concerned, John McMurray is serving no purpose by causing problems now.”

“Yes, but I’ve always told you that there’s something about him that bothers me. It’s like he’s not working with a full deck most of the time. As a safety precaution I’m going to let Kurt know what’s going on. I want to make sure his men know that McMurray is not allowed back on the premises. If he hasn’t cleaned out his desk by now, we’ll ship his things to him.”

“I agree we should tell Kurt.” Kurt Grainger, another college friend, headed up security for Cody Enterprises.

A few moments later, after hanging up the phone, Cameron banished John McMurray from his mind. The only thing he wanted occupying his mind were thoughts of a woman by the name of Vanessa Steele.

Chapter 2

“What neighbor?”

Vanessa tapped her foot impatiently on the ceramic tile floor. “I’m talking about the man who lives next door, Cheyenne,” she said trying to hide her frustration. She had a harder time squashing the irritation she felt with herself for being so curious about the man’s identity.

It was morning and the pool workers were ten minutes late already. She couldn’t wait to gather her stuff and go back down to the beach in hopes that she would see the stranger again. For some reason he had played on her thoughts all night.

“I truly don’t know anything about a man living next door,” Cheyenne said convincingly. “That house has been up for sale for a while, but I hadn’t heard anything of a new owner. It must have been rather recent.”

After a brief pause, Cheyenne then asked, “Why are you interested in my new neighbor, Van?”

Vanessa frowned and searched her mind for a reason her sister would believe and decided to be honest. “I saw him yesterday. At least I caught a glimpse of him,” she said, deciding not to tell Cheyenne about the man swimming in the nude. “And I liked what I saw.”

“Umm, your hormones acting up, are they?” her sister asked in a teasing voice.

“You sound like Sienna, and no, my hormones are not acting up. It was the usual reaction a woman would have to a good-looking man.”

“Then do something about it. Be neighborly and go over there, introduce yourself and welcome him to the neighborhood.”

Vanessa’s mouth quirked. Of the three of them Cheyenne had always been the most daring. “I can’t do that.”

“Sure you can. You’re a liberated woman. You don’t have to wait for the man to make the first move. What are you afraid of?”

That was the same question Sienna had asked her about Cameron. “I’m not afraid of anything,” she came back to say. She was wrong, though. She was afraid of something. Rejection. Thanks to Harlan Shaw.

“Well, my advice is, if you’re interested, act on it.”

“Goodbye, Cheyenne.”

“Why do you always do that, Van? When someone tells you something you don’t want to hear, you bow out in a hurry.”

“You just answered your own question, Cheyenne,” she said with a weak smile in her voice. “You’re telling me something I really don’t want to hear. Love you. Goodbye.”

Vanessa hung up the phone.

A couple of hours later, Vanessa stood in her sister’s kitchen with her back against the counter looking at the picnic basket she had placed on the table. It was her idea of a welcome-to-the-neighborhood gift and contained a bottle of spring water, a block of cheese she had picked up from the market two days ago, as well as a pack of crackers. Then there was the fruit she had added and for dessert, oatmeal raisin cookies she had baked.

Vanessa knew if either Taylor or Cheyenne was putting the basket together they would probably include a tablecloth, the proper eating utensils and enough food for two with the intent of joining him in a picnic instead of giving him everything he needed to enjoy on his own. To say both of her sisters were bold when it came to dating was an understatement. But then neither had encountered the likes of Harlan, the man responsible for rattling her self-confidence.

In fact, neither of her sisters nor her cousins had ever heard of him. The only person who’d known about him was Sienna. Vanessa had immediately been taken with Harlan’s handsome features and smooth talk while vacationing for two weeks in London four years ago. He’d been a college professor from Los Angeles on a year’s sabbatical doing research for a book he was writing.

She’d thought he was special, an intellectual genius. She’d also assumed that he had fallen in love with her, as she had with him, and that he would want to continue what they’d started once she returned to the States. Instead, on the last night they spent together, the one and only time they’d been intimate, he’d told her they were through. She hadn’t been everything that he fully desired from a woman in bed. After the pain of his cruel words, she had made a decision not to let any man close enough to break her heart again. That was the main reason she kept a comfortable distance between herself and Cameron Cody. She would admit—but only to herself and only when she was in a good mood—that she was attracted to him, but her mother hadn’t raised her to be a fool twice over.

So instead of being as bold as she wanted to be and inviting the man next door to picnic with her on the beach, she would do the neighborly thing and present him with a welcome basket and leave. She wouldn’t even enter his home if he invited her inside. He was a stranger and she knew nothing about him. He could be married or some woman’s fiancé. She had enough to keep her mind occupied over the next two weeks. She certainly didn’t need a man around causing problems. All she had to do when she felt weak was to remember Harlan, although she had to admit Harlan’s memory had a tendency to fade to black when Cameron was around.

She walked over to the basket, opened the lid and did a quick check to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. She wondered what Mr. Neighbor would think when she appeared on his doorstep. She intended to meet the man then put him out of her thoughts once and for all.

Little Red Riding Hood.

That was the first thought that came to Cameron’s mind when he glanced out his library window and saw the feminine figure coming up his walkway dressed in a red shorts set, a red straw hat and carrying a picnic basket. He pasted a smile on his lips. It seemed that Vanessa would be finding out his identity sooner than he had anticipated, but that was just as well.