time ago by being the first one of the brothers to fall in love—really in love, seriously in love.
Baby brother Jake was getting married.
While Cameron was delighted that his brother had apparently found his niche in life and, according to their mother, whose judgment none of them ever doubted, the perfect woman to share his niche, there was a growing niggling sense of dissatisfaction inside that was beginning to concern Cameron.
Over the years, he had had some strange, even some weird, cases to contend with in his work for the Bureau. The last one in particular, which also had been wrapped up two days ago, had been both strange and weird. Disquieting, as well, since it had seemed to indicate, at least to him, the fragile mental state of the world in general, and some individuals in particular.
For weeks, while Sandra fought her case in court, Cameron had been on the trail of a real wacko, a wild and daring young man who believed himself the reincarnation of some legendary Western outlaw.
Instead of a horse, the man—who called himself Swift-Draw Slim—had jockeyed a four-wheel-drive Bronco. Slim got his kicks from holding up smalltown banks throughout the Midwest and the Southwest. Which was bad enough, and reason enough to involve the FBI.
Cameron had been drawn into the case when Slim abducted a fourteen-year-old girl and took her across state lines, from New Mexico into Colorado.
Although Slim had led all the local, state and federal authorities on a merry chase, by the time he finally caught him, literally with his pants down, Cameron hadn’t been laughing. In fact, he’d been mad as hell, disgusted, and about ready to throw in the towel—or throw up.
Gazing into the somber brown eyes of Sandra Bradley, Cameron suddenly decided that he needed a break, too. A sabbatical. If you will.
And he had accumulated vacation time due him—six weeks’ time, to be exact.
He had been planning to use some of the time, two weeks or so, to fly East for his brother Jake’s wedding. Jake had done him the singular honor of asking him to be his best man. The wedding was scheduled for the beginning of June, just four and a half weeks away.
But if he requested and was granted his time beginning the end of this week, which was the last full week in April, that would give him four weeks to play around with before Jake took the marriage plunge, and two weeks after the celebration to recover from the festivities.
Hmm.
His brooding gaze fixed on the delectable woman seated opposite him, Cameron mentally frowned and contemplated the advisability and possibility of playing around with Sandra Bradley.
The prospect had definite appeal, and an immediate drawback. Cameron was at once hard, hot and ready. Appearing cool, calm and in command required all the considerable control he possessed.
“I can’t help wondering what you are thinking about.” Amused suspicion colored Sandra’s voice. “You have a decidedly devilish look about you.”
Go for it.
“I was just thinking,” he said, acting on the prompt that flashed through his head. “What are your plans? Anything definite in mind?”
“Yes.” Sandra smiled; he swallowed a groan. “I’m going to run away, hide out for a while.”
“Any particular destination?”
She nodded, setting her hair—and his insides-to rippling. “I’ve been given the use of a small cabin in the mountains for as long as it takes.”
Cameron frowned. “For as long as it takes to do what, exactly?”
Sandra laughed. “In the words of my boss, For as long as it takes to get my head back on straight. She’s convinced I simply need some breathing space.”
“And it’s more than that?” Cameron asked, with sudden and shrewd insight.
She hesitated, then released a deep sigh. “I honestly don’t know, Cameron. I was prepared to chuck it all. I had even typed up my letter of resignation.” Her lips quirked into a wry smile. “Barbara refused to accept it. In fact, she tore it in two the instant she finished reading it. That’s when she handed me the keys and directions to her retreat in the mountains.”
Hmm. A mountain retreat. Springtime in the Rockies. Wildflowers blooming. Birds singing. Butterflies fluttering. The alluring Sandra, and perhaps, Cameron mused, a male companionnamely him. Nature taking its course. Interesting. Exciting.
But would she?
Find out.
“Ah, when are you leaving?” he asked, in as casual a tone as he could muster.
She gave him an arch look. “The firm or the city?”
“Well.” Cameron shrugged. “Both.”
“I’ve already left the firm.” Her lips twitched in amusement. “On granted leave. I wanted to clean out my desk, just in case I decided to stick to my original plan not to return. Janice nearly went into a decline.” She chuckled. “And Barbara wouldn’t even talk about it.”
“Uh-huh,” he murmured, prudently keeping his opinion of the mother-daughter team to himself. After all, he cautioned himself, being brutally honest at this particular moment could hardly advance his cause.
From all indications, Sandra liked and respected both the mother and daughter of the team.
And, though he would willingly concede that they were excellent lawyers, Cameron privately considered both women, Barbara, the senior member, and her daughter, Janice, to be feminists in the extreme. Although he agreed with the concept of equality of the sexes, he did find the extremist element of the movement a bit tiring.
“Okay,” he went on, “when are you planning to leave for the mountains?”
“Day after tomorrow,” Sandra answered, readily enough, while fixing him with a probing stare. “Why?”
Here goes.
Cameron grabbed a quick breath.
“Want some company?”
His soft query was met by stillness. The room was still. The air was still. Sandra was the most still of all. for about ten seconds. Then she blinked, and frowned, and blurted out a choked laugh.
“You?” She stared at him in patent disbelief. “The legendary Lone Wolfe?”
“Me,” he admitted. “And can the Lone Wolfe bull.”
“Are you serious?” Her velvety voice had grown a little ragged around the edges.
“Quite serious,” he assured her, tamping down the urge to elaborate.
“But.” She shook her head, as if trying to clear her mind, and gave another abortive laugh. “Why?”
Cameron arched a brow in chiding. “A little R and R. Fun and games. Unadulterated pleasure.”
“In
