Slow Summer Burn: A Loveswept Contemporary Romance (18 page)

“Mother, the Front Street Boutique is in Star Harbor.”

“Oh yes. Your work.” She said it as if it were something dirty. “I suppose he works there, too?”

“In Star Harbor? No, he works in Boston.”

“Ah, yes. At least that explains his connection with the Alcotts,” Clarissa sniffed. “Politics is one thing, but I never did understand why Aloysius insisted on working in a government office.”

“Perhaps he liked it,” Cameron murmured.

“The way your father likes his work? Unlikely. Paper pushing is very different from doing billion-dollar financial deals.”

Cici appeared back at her mother’s side. “But who’s to say it’s better?” she said. It was the first time Cameron had heard her speak all night. Her face didn’t look blank anymore. Some of the dullness had left her gaze, and she actually looked … alive.

“Really, Cecile,” their mother said. “Don’t display your ignorance.”

Almost immediately, Cici slipped her mask back into place. Cameron frowned, and was about to say something, when she felt a strong presence by her side.

“It’s time for us to head out,” Val said.

“So soon?” Clarissa responded. “But the toasts haven’t even been made.”

Promising herself she’d touch base with her sister later this week, Cameron took Val’s cue. “Please give our regrets to Mrs. Alcott.”

“Good night,” Val said, taking her hand and pulling her through the ballroom.

They were a few yards away when she heard her father say unhappily, “Found out he’s a beer man.”

At that point, his hand was in hers, and honestly, she didn’t care what her parents thought of him. He’d handled himself perfectly. He wasn’t going to pretend he was someone he wasn’t just to please her parents. And his authenticity was like a lifeline. She grabbed it and held on with both hands as they left the now stifling room.

It took him only a few moments to get them out of the ballroom, and even fewer to get his truck pulled up from the valet service Hermione had so kindly provided to her guests, but it was still late when they arrived at Cameron’s brownstone. Cameron opened her front door and looked up at him with a smile on her beautiful face. He knew what he was supposed to do with a woman like her. Share a chaste good-night kiss, get her safely inside, and then head back to his place. Problem was, after what they shared in Star Harbor, he knew he wasn’t ever going to be satisfied with that kind of arrangement.

And hopefully, neither was she.

Val wrapped his arms around her and felt a little shiver run through her body. Inhaling deeply, he caught her scent, light and floral and terribly expensive.
Irresistible
. He bent his head and pressed his lips to hers. Immediately, she welcomed him in, opening those sweet lips. He claimed her as if it were his right, demanding her surrender. But she wouldn’t give. Instead, she pushed back, challenging him to meet her instead of letting him simply take. Within moments, it became clear that this kiss was anything but chaste.

Which was just fine with him.

It had been a mighty struggle to keep his hands off her all evening, and now he didn’t even care to try. He had one hand buried in the mass of her hair and the other on her arm. When he slid it down, she gasped at the contact of skin on skin, the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss. Meanwhile, her delicate hands had snaked up his back. She moved against him, and he wanted nothing more than to cover her breasts with his hands.

“Ask me in,” he demanded.

“Please come in,” she murmured, and that combination of sexiness and politeness just threw him over the edge. With a growl, he shoved the door open, pulled them both inside, and slammed it closed with his foot. He practically dragged her through the house.

“Which way?”

“Upstairs,” she managed to get out between kisses. When she couldn’t move fast enough, he took her in his arms and carried her. She directed him to her bedroom. The only things he took note of were the fact that everything in it appeared to be antique and her bed was large enough to hold him.

“You’ve been driving me crazy all night,” he said tipping her head so that he could tongue his way down her neck. He breathed in her scent again—
damn
, he couldn’t get enough! “With your hair and your legs and that dress.” He’d asked and she’d answered, wearing a dress almost the exact same color as her eyes.

“You like it?”

“Hell, yes, I like it,” he said, finding the zipper and easing it down. The dress dropped to the floor and she was left in her lavender lace bra and panties, and if that wasn’t the damned sexiest thing he’d ever seen! As fast as he could, he kicked off his shoes, pulled off his jacket, and practically tore his tie off.

Val pushed her back on the bed, slid next to her, and sealed his mouth to hers. She moaned and shifted, pressing her chest against his.

Lord, he wanted to touch. He needed to touch.

So he did, his palms fully covering her lace-clad breasts. Gently he flicked her nipples with his thumbs, loving the way her breath caught in her throat.

All of a sudden, they were both wearing too many clothes.

He stripped off his pants, but when he went to undo the buttons on his shirt, she stopped him.

“Please, let me,” she said, her voice throaty. And slowly, ever so slowly, she took out the silver studs on his cuffs and unbuttoned his shirt. As each sliver of skin was revealed, she kissed it, and he couldn’t help the shudder that went through him. Then she swept the shirt from his body and kissed his neck, and it felt so good he forgot about nearly everything but burying himself to the hilt in her.

She was a vision, her creamy skin wrapped up like a package in her lacy underwear. He unwrapped his present, flicking open her bra. He admired her gorgeous breasts for only a moment before he covered one rock-hard nipple with his mouth.

Cameron drew in her breath, and when he thumbed her other nipple, she sighed. But when he slid his hand right down her panties to test her readiness,
ah
, then she moaned—a sweet, erotic sound that was music to his ears. A few short minutes were all she could take.

“Now, Val,” she begged. “Now.
Please
.”

He pulled off her panties, readied himself with a condom, and covered her body with his. Her arms were wrapped around him—her long legs, too—and he had the sensation of being completely enveloped in her. Then he began to move, each thrust more pleasurable than the last. It wasn’t long before he felt her shaking beneath him. All it took was a few strategic twists and she exploded, gasping his name, writhing and bucking beneath him, her internal muscles clamping down so hard he almost saw stars.

And then he really did see stars as he pumped himself into her one final time and took his own release.

Chapter 18

Cameron was naked—gloriously naked—in her bed, tucked next to a lean, strong body. She ached a little, pleasantly so. Because of him.

It was delicious.

In public, Val had been the perfect gentleman—squiring her to Hermione’s party, making chitchat with the other guests, and being as polite as he possibly could be to her parents. But then, when he’d gotten her alone, he’d shown her what lay beneath that façade.

She opened her eyes to examine the man himself. Unlike his crisp appearance earlier in the night, he now looked rumpled, his hair falling over his forehead, a slight shadow on his square jaw where stubble was forming, and a little dampness on his chest from their earlier exertions. She liked him better like this, all messy and scruffy. It was more him. More real.

Val opened his eyes, then reached out and stroked her hair.

“What’s your middle name?” she asked.

“What you’re really asking is what middle name could possibly go with Valentine?”

She smiled. “Pretty much.”

“Thomas. It was my grandfather’s name. He died right before I was born.”

“Valentine Thomas Grayson,” she said, rolling the name on her tongue. “It’s kind of a mouthful, but it works.”

“Not as well as Cameron Endicott Stahl.” There was a long silence before he spoke again. “Your parents always like that?”

“Yes,” she admitted.

“Nigel isn’t like them.”

“No. He’s been hugely supportive of me.”

“And you’re not like them, either.”

“You don’t think?”

“No,” he said firmly, his eyes never leaving hers. “No.” He pulled up her hand and kissed her palm, his breath moist and hot. “How could you be? You’re the least fake person I’ve ever met.”

She shook her head. “You don’t know that.”

“Yeah, I do. You know exactly what’s important, and you’ve shaped the way you want to lead your life.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. “That is the first time anyone aside from my uncle has said that. It was such a risk for me, starting my business.” And even Nigel hadn’t seen it as clearly as Cameron had. Nigel assumed, at least in part, that opening up a boutique was a way for Cameron to get back at her parents. He didn’t understand that it was her life—what she’d wanted to do ever since she’d taken her first art history class in college. That she was as obsessed with the furniture and the art as Nigel was. Her uncle was even getting her hooked on that pirate legend of the
Siren Lorelei
.

Val’s gaze bore into hers. “I’m not just talking about your work, Cam. It’s in everything you do. In the way you live.”

“You think too much of me,” she said, looking away.

“And humble to boot,” he muttered, turning her head to face him. “Cam, other women in your position wouldn’t even have looked my way. Would have thought me beneath them.”

“No,” she breathed. How could anyone
not
look at this magnificent creature? With his intelligence and laconic wit, not to mention his fantastic shoulders. She’d never paid much attention to a man’s shoulders before, but Val’s were just perfect—all carefully sculpted sinew and muscle. Then her cheeks colored as she thought back to the first time she’d seen him, half-naked on the beach. She
had
ignored him, and it wasn’t until he’d stepped into her world that she’d even given him a second glance. “I’m not that pure.”

“Thank God,” he said, and she laughed a little at that.

But then she sobered. “You’re putting me on a pedestal, Val. I can’t possibly live up to your expectations.”

“I’m not one for waxing poetic. Hell, I’m barely one for talking, but I gotta tell you that when we’re together, I
want
to talk, just to hear you laugh. To hear you say something back to me, all proper and polite. And when you look at me in that way with those eyes—the way you’re doing right now—things like your social status and my age and your parents and my job just kind of fade away. They don’t matter anymore.” He paused and swallowed. “Nothing matters, except for you.”

Tears she didn’t even know were there swelled and spilled over. “God, Val,” she said,
trying to wipe them away. “You can’t just say things like that and not expect me to cry.”

His gaze softened. “I don’t want you to cry, Cam. I want you to love me.”

“I do. So much. It seems crazy. I mean, I haven’t even known you for that long, but I—”

“It’s not crazy,” he said, covering her mouth with his.

This time they made love slowly and so sweetly, she thought her heart would burst out of her chest. He knew exactly what to do to deepen their loving, to take it to an even higher level than it had ever been before. Steadily, gently, he built up pressure so intense she thought she would explode. She did, shattering apart in a blast the likes of which she’d never experienced.

And then, just as he always did, he caught her and put her back together, piece by careful piece.

“Val?” Cameron’s polished voice reverberated in his ear. “Val, wake up. It’s late.”

“Late?” He opened his eyes. He never slept late. Cameron was propped up on one elbow, her glorious hair spilling over her shoulders. It was smooth and shiny. Too bad. He liked it better when it was all messed up from his hands. “What time is it?”

“Nine-thirty.”

“Just in time,” he said, wrapping his hand around her neck and pulling her down for a searing kiss.

She kissed him back for a long while before shoving at his shoulder with her hand. “Val, come on, I’m serious.”

“Serious about doing it all day? I’m game.”

“No.” A little smile played at her lips. “Although that does sound pleasant.” She shook her head, as if she were actually considering it. “Last weekend in Star Harbor, you showed me your secret spots. Today we’re in Boston, and I want to show you mine.”

He thought for a moment. “I could be up for that. Though I’d still rather be in bed with you all day.”

“We have tonight.”

“You’re staying?”

“For a few days.”

“Me too. I have a big meeting Monday morning, so I’d planned to sleep here tonight.”

“Here?”

He gave her a wicked grin. “My apartment. But I like the way your mind works.”

“I wouldn’t mind seeing your apartment,” she said, somewhat shyly.

“You’re welcome to, but it’s not nearly as swanky as yours.”

Cameron colored slightly. “It’s not a contest.”

“I know, Cam. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. It’s just that I don’t give a damn about my studio. The boat’s where I want to be. I just keep the apartment to make it easier on myself when I have to be in the city.”

“You could stay here, if you like.” She frowned. “Though I have to say I was thinking about asking Cecile to come stay here for a while.”

“She needs to get out of your parents’ house, doesn’t she?” he said flatly.

Cameron blinked. “How did you …” She shook her head. “I’ve given up trying to figure out how you just
get
everything. But yes, I think that some distance from my parents would be good for her. She graduated from college a couple of years ago. She got a marketing job, but my mother made her feel so guilty about it—about working—that all the life went out of her. I think Cici caved rather than fight, and I can’t figure out why. Maybe some distance would help.”

“Do it,” he said. “Invite her.”

“But then where would you and I …” Her voice trailed off again. She was just adorable when she was trying to figure out the sex stuff.