Aside from those things, he was a stranger. A hard and dangerous stranger. He’d worked for a government agency, he’d said, one so secret she wouldn’t have recognized its initials.
Even the air crackled with menace.
He was inches from her now. She took a quick step back and her shoulders hit the wall.
“Don’t,” she said, and hated herself for the way the word wobbled.
“Don’t what, Salome?” His words were soft as silk, but even silk could be deadly in the right hands. “I’m still waiting for you to tell me how glad you are to see me.”
“I can’t see you at all.” That was better. She was shaking with fear but her voice was steady. “How did you get into my room?”
“Management needs to do something about that fire escape,” he said lazily. “And that window lock wasn’t worth a damn. How’ve you been, baby? Come to think of it, that’s a foolish question. I know the answer. You’ve been busy.”
His voice was harsh; he put an icy twist on that last word. She thought of the days she’d spent in the hospital but what would that matter to the man standing before her? Her Cameron had been tender. This one wouldn’t know the meaning of the word.
“Cam.” She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Why—why did you break into my room? All you had to do, if you wanted to see me, was—”
“Why would I want to see you?” he said coldly. “We had a good time, you and I, but it ended.” The flashlight fell to the floor and he caught her by the shoulders, his hands hard against her flesh. “That’s right, isn’t it? What we had ended that day Asaad’s men found us.” She didn’t answer; his grip on her tightened and he shook her. “Answer me, damn it. Isn’t that the way it was?”
Tears blurred Leanna’s eyes. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I want answers.”
“Cam. Please, let go. You’re hurting me.”
“You didn’t say that the last time I touched you.” She gasped as he tore the towel from her and pinned her to the wall with one hand banded around her throat. “Remember, Salome? More, you said. More, Cameron.” His voice roughened. “More of this.”
His hand cupped her breast, his thumb feathered over her nipple. Leanna cried out in fear but her body, her traitorous body, began to melt under his remembered caresses.
“Don’t,” she said, “Cam, I beg you—”
“Good. Beg me. That’s what I want from you tonight, Salome.” Cam bent his head, caught her mouth with his, forced her lips apart. The taste of her shot through his blood. “Go on, damn you! Beg me. Tell me what you want.”
His hand slid down her belly, cupped the soft gold curls that guarded the most intimate secrets of her body—secrets only he had known.
“This? Is this what you want from me?” He bent his head and tongued her nipple. She made a little sound that might have been despair or might have been pleasure. He didn’t know, didn’t care, didn’t care…
Except, he did.
“Salome,” he whispered, and his touch changed, his heart changed, his hand slipped from banding her throat to cupping her face. “Salome,” he said again, and as he kissed her, he knew, with terrifying swiftness, that what he wanted from his Salome was to be with her for the rest of his life.
He loved her.
Loved her, with his heart, his mind, his soul.
It scared the hell out of him… But what scared him more was that she might not love him, too.
“Cameron,” she said brokenly. “Please. Don’t do this. What we had—what we had—”
“What did we have, Salome?”
“You—you said it yourself. It was a fantasy. The danger. The excitement—”
“Is that all it was?”
She didn’t answer. Her eyes slid from his and he prayed it was because she loved him.
“Salome. Remember what I said in the desert? I told you to stop thinking.” He framed her face with his hands. “That’s what I want you to do now, sweetheart. Don’t think. Just feel—and tell me what’s in your heart.” He took a deep breath. “Tell me that you love me, Leanna.” His voice roughened. “Tell me you love me as much as I love you.”