Page 12 of Take the Bait

She sighed. Did the martinis have to wear off just when things were getting interesting between her and Cam?

She had to stop this.

But how?

She needed to end this permanently. Stop this encounter in a way that guaranteed he never wanted to kiss her again. In a way there was no coming back from…just in case she ever was forced to drink martinis around him and somehow ended up alone in a ladies’ room with him someday.

She had to make it clear that just because they’d fooled around a little, she was not going to accept his plea deal nor hand him the win in their case because she was consumed with mindless passion for him.

Tipsy Dani kissed him one last time. Lord, that man could kiss?—

Be strong. Break this off in the most unforgivable possible way. Do it. Now.

For the record, I’m never forgiving you for this, sober Self.

She took a deep breath and threw her head back, making a show of guiding his head down to the open neck of her blouse.

“Oh, Cam,” she moaned dramatically. “Take me. I’m yours. Yes. Yes!”

He groaned in the back of his throat, and something raw and shocking deep inside her leapt in response to it. Viciously suppressing her visceral reaction to this extremely attractive man, she forced all the tension from her body and abruptly sagged, limp in his arms.

Startled, he lifted his head away from the hollow at the base of her neck and stared down at her in what looked like genuine concern.

Quick as a mink, she slipped out from under his arm and darted to the door. She unlocked it and pulled it open, pausing to shoot him the most disdainful stare she could muster.

She said coldly, “In your dreams, Counselor. You’ll tap this when hell freezes over.”

5

Thunderstruck, Cam watched as Dani Wellford threw her hair back, notched her chin up in the air and strolled out of the ladies’ room like the bloody queen of England.

Sonofabitch.

He caught sight of himself in the mirror, crotch bulging, jaw agape, and turned away, appalled.

What the hell had just happened? One moment the two of them were crawling all over each other, driving each other a little out of their minds…and she’d been fully as hot for him as he was for her, thank you very much. He knew the difference between actual and fake passion, and that had been the real deal, dammit.

He swore under his breath in a continuous and lurid stream until he finally brought his breathing under control, which didn’t happen quickly.

As rational thought reluctantly returned to his besotted brain, he regained the presence of mind to admit she’d gotten him but good. As tempted as he was to accuse her of being a cock tease, he was honest enough to admit to himself that he’d come on to her and not the other way around. He’d locked the door. He’d backed her up against the counter. He’d kissed her first.

And she kissed you back.

In fact, she’d kissed him so passionately he’d been taken by surprise. Lost control of himself there, for a minute. He’d actually been seriously contemplating making love to her on that damned counter.

Until she’d abruptly gone completely ice cold in his arms. As if she’d flipped a switch and suddenly had no interest whatsoever in him.

It was disconcerting as hell. Not to mention damned confusing?—

He swore as he heard a gaggle of female voices growing louder fast. He wouldn’t put it past Dani to have recruited a bunch of women to come in here to powder their damned noses and humiliate the living hell out of him.

He dived into a stall and locked it hastily. Sitting precariously on the toilet, he hugged his knees, pulling his shoes up out of sight lest someone peek under the door and see his size twelve Barker leather and ostrich toe shoes.

His back ached in seconds. Hell, his boner ached. The way this night was going, he would topple over into the damned toilet any second and have to explain why his pants were all wet when he walked out of here.

Not to mention, if he got caught in here, his chances of getting hired at WMP would go up in flames the color of Dani’s fiery hair. Plus, lawyers were nothing if not gossipy. Word would get back to the D.A.’s office, too. He would be a laughing stock. His carefully crafted reputation, his whole freaking career plan, would be shot to pieces. Just like that.

He was in Hell. Fucking Hell.

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