Keeping Cameron
~ a sensual romance ~
by Robynn Honeychurch
Keeping Cameron
Copyright Robynn Honeychurch 2011
Published by CoolCats Publishing at Smashwords
Discover other titles by Robynn Honeychurch at Smashwords.
All rights reserved.
Robynn Honeychurch can be contacted at: books.mythicworks.ca
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Dedication:
This book is dedicated to my loving and supportive husband, Shawn, without whom I’d not have experienced the romance that made me believe in true love.
Thank you to my friends and family who have supported me and encouraged me over my many years of writing: I appreciate you all…
CHAPTER 1
It was almost ten o’clock by the time Rebecca made it down to the beach for her morning walk. She’d had to carry her greenware sculptures out to the shed that housed the kiln, load them in, and set the kiln to low. Her pottery pieces would heat up slowly over the course of the day and she would set them to fire tomorrow.
There was an Arts Festival in a month she was planning to sell her clay sculptures at and she had a ton to do still to prepare! But a walk always invigorated her and she was glad she’d taken a moment to slip out of her studio.
The sun’s morning rays cast a golden glow across the ocean and she breathed in the tangy air. She loved this enchanted island! Every day she took the time to walk this beach, look out across the rolling waves at the green hills of Vancouver Island beyond, and every day she was reminded of the beauty all around her. The seagulls danced and dipped on the wind currents, crying out to one another and the warm July sun heated her cheeks.
Turning her face towards the wind she headed west along the shoreline. Up ahead she could see the curve of the beachline as it bent north into the next bay. Her bare feet dug in to the soft, gray sand and she curled her toes, relishing the gentle massage to her feet. Her white summer dress pressed against the front of her and streamed out behind, caught by the salty breezes.
She kept her eyes out for interesting shells and pieces of wood, which she incorporated into her artwork. Gazing at the sand in front of her, Rebecca didn’t see the approaching figure until his sandled feet entered her field of vision. She came to a stop and slowly raised her eyes to take in the man before her.
His hands were casually shoved into the pockets of his loose jeans and a white T-shirt spanned his wide chest. She tilted her head up to meet his gaze. His green eyes were friendly and he assessed her in return. He was lean and his straight brown hair fell across his forehead. Altogether, she decided, he was a handsome man. His wide mouth smiled at her, laugh lines fanning his lips.
And who could resist a cleft chin like that?
What are you doing standing in my path? Rebecca wondered silently, her dark gaze questioning.
The man before her cleared his throat.
“Hi.”
“Hi, yourself,” she returned.
“You must be Rebecca…” and when she said nothing, “I’m Cameron Burdock,” he said, sticking out his large hand.
“So?” She said with a slight smile, her right eyebrow lifted. She looked at his extended hand. Very inviting. She fit her strong hand into his and felt his firm grasp. His fingers were long and warm and they sent delicious shivers through her where they brushed her palm.
If this is a come-on, it certainly is tempting!
She had no idea who the man before her was, but she felt like he expected her to know.
“I came to interview you on behalf of Canadian Arts Magazine.” His lazy smile broadened.
Comprehension dawned as she remembered a phone call she’d received a few weeks earlier.
It had been seven in the morning.
Rebecca was not a morning person.
“Hello?” She’d mumbled into the receiver.
“Hi,” a deep male voice came across the line. “My name is Cameron and I’m calling from the Canadian Arts Magazine head office in Vancouver for Rebecca Redding.”
“I’m not interested,” she muttered, thinking she was being accosted by an early morning telemarketer.
“Not interested in what?” Cameron wanted to know, humor lacing his words.
“Whatever…” She rubbed at her eyes with her palm, trying to keep herself awake long enough to complete this call without just hanging up on the man.
“I was hoping you’d agree to do an interview for our magazine.”
“What?” She’d said, surprised. Her fuzzy brain tried to make sense of his words.
“Well, you are becoming a well-know BC clay sculptor and I would love to be able to come out to your studio and do an interview with you for the magazine.”
“Oh.”
“What do you say I come meet with you two weeks from today?”
“Today?” She asked, still only half awake. She had so much to do! She didn’t have time for an interview today! She was headed over to the mainland with a shipment of her work that she was bringing to a Vancouver gallery.
“In two weeks,” the voice said patiently.
“Oh, sure. I guess. Yah, OK. What the hell?” She ran her hand through her short brown hair, untangling her bed-mussed curls.
A sexy chuckle came down the line and made her stomach flip-flop. Rebecca hadn’t heard a laugh like that in ages. She smiled sleepily into the phone. What kind of man went with a voice like that? she wondered.
Now she knew. A body and face to match the rich, enticing voice.
“Right,” she said, withdrawing her hand from the warm embrace in which he still held her.
She stepped to her right to continue around the man. She had no intention of cutting her walk short for the sake of an interview. Cameron stepped to the side as well and she found her way blocked. She patiently raised her large chocolate-brown eyes to meet his.
“Join me, if you like,” she said. “I plan to go to the point and back.” She gestured in the direction she was headed.
“Sure.” He shrugged and turned to walk beside her.
Rebecca took a deep breath of the island air and tried to calm herself. She wasn’t used to having her solitary morning walk interrupted and she was determined to carry on as usual. She would not let this reporter disrupt her day.
If only she’d remembered he was coming! She could have—she could have what? Run away for the day? A rather rude thing to do, she admitted to herself. Tempting though it was. She couldn’t say she was looking forward to answering a barrage of questions and having a camera stuck in her face. If she’d been more awake when he’d called, she probably would have declined his request.
Oh well. What’s done is done.
Cameron let the silence between them extend for the length of their walk. He listened to the calling gulls and took in the incredible views of the bay and other islands floating in the sea beyond. He’d interviewed enough artists in his fifteen-year career to know that rushing the interview would prove fruitless—and might even scare her off. Anyhow, he wasn’t in a hurry. He’d booked the coming weekend off so that he’d have some time to explore Hornby Island while he was here.
There were a number of well-known artists in the area he wanted to meet and, with the warm summer weather, he didn’t want to miss a chance to take a swim, soak up some sun and experience a few days in ‘island time’, as it was called.
He took in the sight of the woman beside him. She was almost as tall as he was, invitingly curvaceous and graceful in her movements. Her big eyes and curly hair leant a playful look to her facial features. She strolled with purpose, though she appeared unhurried. A blissful expression of contentment painted her face.
They left the beach and walked, side-by-side down the narrow dirt road that led to her cabin. In the drive, Rebecca noted the dark green Jeep belonging to Cameron. Behind it lay her small, weathered, wood home, hugged by the multitude of colorful flowers she’d planted in the spring.
She nimbly crossed the pebbled path in her bare feet and mounted the narrow steps to the door, then turned to face the stranger in her company. She looked down at him from the height of the porch, her hands clasped in front of her.
“So? What’s the plan?”
She didn’t mean to be rude. She just wasn’t used to inviting strangers in. She spent her days alone here—immersed in producing art and rarely did she entertain in the small space that was her home. She loved her privacy and never felt lonely during her countless hours in solitude.
“Well, I’d love to see your studio. Maybe I could take you out to lunch afterwards and we could talk about your work.”
“Sure,” she nodded.
Good idea, mister. Let’s avoid the discomfort of too much time together in the cramped quarters of my home.
She felt like she was opening her very soul by bringing Cameron into her workspace. But there was a relaxed, non-expectant quality about the man that encouraged her. And he was a damn-sight too good-looking to refuse!
Pushing open the unlocked door, she stepped inside.
Rebecca wiped the sand from her feet, then crossed the room to the kitchen sink. The reporter entered and removed his shoes, then looked around. Every windowsill housed at least one sprawling, green plant. A large wood table sat central in the kitchen. Through a doorway on the left he could see a small living room. The place was small and cozy with its low ceiling and wood floor.
“Tea?” Rebecca asked, turning from the sink, kettle in hand.
It seemed too warm for tea, but politeness overruled and he nodded.
“Sure, thanks.”
“Have a seat,” she said, waving her hand towards one of the oak chairs near the table.
He noticed the large row of shelves, then, that lined the wall separating the kitchen and living room. It was stacked with clay tools, wooden batts for storing wet pottery on, and works in progress.
“Strawberry, peppermint, orange zinger, chamomile, chi, or vanilla?”
“Um…” he said, trying to absorb the tea options he’d just been presented.
“Black or herbal?”
“How about peppermint? A good brain stimulant for a someone opposed to mornings.”
“Who is? You?” She was impressed with his bit of herb knowledge.
So he’s not a total city-ite.
Cameron chuckled and her toes curled at the pleasantly low, throaty sound. “No, you!”
“Oh.” She smiled.
How does he know I dislike mornings?
“I see you have some of your pottery equipment in here.” He nodded towards the shelves across from him. She leaned back against the counter and studied him.
“Yup. This is where I work,” she pointed at the kitchen table. “I get the afternoon sun in here…”
He turned in his chair to look at her directly. Their eyes met and held. Again, her stomach did a strange flip.
What is it about this man that makes me tingle?
An electric charge seemed to fill the air between them and Rebecca became acutely aware of the fact that she was braless beneath her white summer dress. A slow blush crept up her neck and her eyes slid away from his.
His gaze stayed trained to her and he watched with interest as she swiveled quickly away from him. Keeping busy, she took down homemade cups from the cupboards and spoons from the drawer.
“Will you want honey?” She asked, pouring hot water into her turquoise teapot.
“No thanks.” Cameron shook his head, which made a lock of his hair fall into his eyes. He reached up and shoved it back from his face.
She set the dishes and tea on the table and sat down across from him. She folded her arms across her chest in hopes to protect herself from his perceptive gaze, but his attention was already elsewhere.
“Are your kilns out there?” He pointed out the kitchen window at a shed off towards the back of her house.
She nodded. “Yes. I carry my finished pieces—once they are dry—out to the shed for firing. Then I pit-fire my pieces in a brick barbecue pit I’ve built out there.”
“That’s what gives them the smoky brown and gray tones, isn’t it?”
“You’ve done your research, I see, Mr. Burdock.”
Cameron laughed. “You can’t possibly want to call me that!”
“Then I’ll call you Cam.”
“That’s fine,” his smile lingered.
She wasn’t sure she was comfortable being such a source of amusement to this man.
The tea was steeped, she served them and they sipped in silence for a few moments.
“Would you mind if I took some photos of your work spaces?”
Rebecca shook her head. “That’s why you’re here isn’t it?”
He looked at her bright, round eyes and full, smiling lips and realized that he was enjoying her company a little too much. He was losing sight of his purpose for being here.
Keep your mind on your job, buddy, he chided himself.
“Would you be willing to demonstrate some of your handbuilding techniques for me as well?”
Rebecca shrugged. She knew this was what was involved in an in-depth interview and she really shouldn’t have minded. But to have the concentrated attention of the compelling Cameron was setting her a bit on edge.
“I guess so… if there’s time.”
“I’m staying until Sunday, so I can always come back tomorrow if we run out of time today,” he said casually.
“Staying? Really? Where?”
“At the Blue Heron Bed and Breakfast.”
“Oh. Nice place. Well…” She couldn’t really imagine having a three day interview! She had too much to do—though she figured she could spare at least one day. “We’ll see what we have time for.”
“Of course.” Cameron wasn’t used to having such a reluctant interviewee and he wondered what it was about this private woman that he felt so drawn to.
Rebecca put down her teacup and stood, forgetting the sheer quality of her dress. “Shall I show you the kilns and such?”
They walked through the small living room and out a side door leading to a shed. She pulled open an oversized metal door and they entered. The space was lit by a skylight and several bulbs in the ceiling. The room housed two large, brick contraptions that were electric kilns. One was an upright, with the loading door on top. The other had a door that swung open on the front, which Rebecca used for firing her larger sculptural works. As she explained the firing process and details to him, he watched her graceful movements and listened to the self-assured way she spoke.
He found his mind drifting. Her soft curls looked so inviting and he wished he could wrap his hands in her hair. He’d love to lower his head and breathe in the deep, sweet smell of her, nuzzling the delicate curve of her neck.
“Cam?”
His gaze returned from its perusal to focus on her questioning face.
“Hmm?’
“Guess I lost you there, huh?” She asked, figuring she’d gone into more technical detail regarding glaze testing than he was interested in.
“You don’t sell your works from your home, I see,” he observed, determined to keep his attention where it ought to be—on his job, not her enticing rear end as she bent forward to shut the kiln door.
“No. I have pieces for sale at two of the galleries on the island here—and in shops in Tofino, Vancouver, and Seattle. I know many local artists sell from their houses, but I really don’t have the space. And I prefer my privacy,” she replied, shutting the door behind them as they exited and returned to the bright, sun-filled yard.
“We could go see some of the works I have displayed at the galleries near here, if you like.”
“Good idea. Then to lunch!”
She was glad he’d agreed. The confines of the kiln shed had been much too confining for Rebecca’s liking with the two of them crammed in there. She’d been able to feel the heat off his body as he stood near her, peering down at the sculptures she was currently bisquing.
“I’ll just go change.” She gestured towards the house and then headed in that direction.
CHAPTER 2
Cameron stood, hands in pockets, and watched her retreat. For a self-taught potter, Rebecca knew a great deal, he thought. And he looked forward to seeing her at work. But more than that, he was just pleased to be in her company for the day.
“I’m ready!”
He took in her sea-green silk top and black drawstring pants and thought he wouldn’t last the day. How could he go that long without touching her flat, tanned belly that peeked from beneath her short top? How could he go that long without reaching beneath it to feel whether or not she was now wearing a bra?
He had to!
He shook his head to clear it. This was his job, not a summer fling—though he certainly wouldn’t object to one, he mused.
He cleared his throat. “All right. Let’s go!”
He opened the passenger door of his truck for her and she climbed in.
Once they were on the road, Rebecca gave him directions to the Ford’s Cove Gallery. The drive was windy and picturesque as they headed west across the island. Gnarled red arbutus trees grew along the roadside and small herds of sheep grazed in several of the green pastures.
They passed people on bikes, people walking, people pulled over on over to the curb chatting. This time of the year the island was a swarming mass of tourists.
“Have you been to the island before?”
“No. It’s quite busy for such a small place,” Cameron admitted.
“Yup. The locals look forward to the fall when the tourists all head home. We may make our livings off them, but most of us choose to live here because of the rural lifestyle. Hornby definitely turns into a tourist park of sorts in the summer, though.”
“How long have you lived here?” He hoped he could start to coax some personal information from her for his article.
“About ten years. I grew up in Victoria and came over when I was twenty to apprentice with one of the local potters here. As it turned out, after a month the potter decided to take off to study African art in Kenya for a year. I was already making friends and connections here—and I’d met a man, so I decided to stay!”
That was the first time Cameron had considered that there may already be a man in Rebecca’s life. He silently cursed himself for his idiocy.
Of course there is! Why would a successful, pretty lady like her be single?!
And why do you care?
He wished he could think of a discrete way to determine whether or not she was taken, but knew it really was none of his business.
Stick to your job, buddy. There’s nothing going on here but an interview.
He tried to suppress his sigh. It wasn’t like he was desperate for a woman. Sure, it had been a while since he’d been thrown off balance by a pretty lady, since he’d even entertained thoughts of touching and holding one. It had been since Sonya.
Two years ago he and Sonya had been a hot-and-heavy couple. Having fun, dating and playing, and not taking life very seriously. Then she found out she was pregnant. Cameron was shocked, but once he’d adjusted to the idea, he was elated. They were going to have a baby! Sure, it was unplanned, but he’d always wanted to be a father, sooner or later. He asked Sonya to marry him, but she’d refused.
“It’s been fun,” she said, “but I don’t want to settle down. For me life is about being free—enjoying each day as it comes. I’ll take care of it.”
Cameron had done his damnedest to change her mind, but it was to no avail. Sonya had an abortion and he refused to see her again. The sadness he felt about losing that baby had stayed with him a long time. It had kept him from even looking seriously at any woman. Each time he felt attracted to someone he met, he thought about the consequences of getting involved before a commitment was made. It cooled him down, and thus he’d remained single since then.
“Here,” Rebecca said, drawing him from his reverie. She was pointing to the small building on the hillside up ahead, as they pulled into the gravel parking lot at the end of the road.
Cameron shut off the engine and climbed out of the Jeep. The vehicle was an older model and had seen many, many miles of winding country roads in its time. He felt attached to it, though he knew its years were numbered.
He came around to her side and opened the door for her.
“You OK?” He asked.
Her head was bent to the side.
“Yah.” She gave a silly grin. “But I’m stuck. Your seatbelt doesn’t want to undo.”
“Oh, damn. Sorry about that. It happens sometimes, but I so rarely have passengers that I forget…”
He reached across her to fiddle with the buckle and then he froze. The mild fragrance of Jasmine reached his nostrils.
Rebecca held her breath. This large, sexy man had his face inches from hers as he looked down at the stubborn clasp. His thighs pressed against the side of hers and his left forearm was brushing her breast. Her whole body became hyper-aware. She could feel her nipples harden, and her lips parted.
She could see the faint dusting of stubble on his firm jaw line. His ear was pierced, she noticed, though he wore no earring. And he smelled of the salty air and sexy male—there was no other way to describe it!
He smelled good. Too good.
She couldn’t really be attracted to this total stranger, could she?
Things were happening too fast.
She wanted to squirm free of the seatbelt.
But she didn’t dare move. It would just cause her to rub more intimately against Cameron, who’d now gotten a grip on himself and was trying to work the buckle free of its clasp.
He was doing his best to ignore the uncomfortable tightening in his loins, making his jeans feel too snug. Rebecca’s warm, soft breast felt heavenly against his arm and he couldn’t help but brush unnecessarily against her as he worked to release her.
She could hold her breath no longer and she let it out in a loud sigh that fluttered the hair on Cameron’s forehead, causing it to fall into his eyes. He turned to gaze down at her.
A wisp of air was all that separated them. Her pupils were dilated and he couldn’t help looking longingly at her mouth.
“Did you do that on purpose?” He asked suspiciously.
“Do what?” Rebecca couldn’t remember a thing!
He gave in. Rational thought evaporated and he brushed his lips gently against hers.
She gasped as she felt his firm lips press to hers. It was blissful. Her whole body tingled. She wanted more.
He pulled away and looked intently at her.
“That was what you were waiting for, wasn’t it?” His voice was gruff.
“Oh!” She reached her hands up intending to shove him away, but her hands contacted only the dashboard before her, as he’d quickly withdrawn from the truck, chuckling. Her forward movement yanked on the seatbelt, and suddenly it gave, and she was free.
Rebecca pulled herself indignantly from the cab.
“Quite the technique you have for dealing with that stuck buckle!” She said sarcastically. “Do you kiss everyone who gets stuck in your passenger seat?” She asked heatedly.
“Actually, you’re the first,” he admitted.
Her eyes went wide for a moment, then she turned abruptly and headed across the parking lot.
He shut the door behind her and followed her quickly retreating back towards the stairs leading to the art store.
His hormones were raging out of control. It had taken all his willpower to pull back from Rebecca’s delicately full, surrendering mouth. He focused his mind on the photos he planned to take in the gallery and forced his body to relax.
Camera in hand, he followed the boardwalk to the quaint gallery space, where his interviewee was already chatting with a man behind the counter. He let her socialize while he looked around.
He took in his surroundings in a quick glance. Hand woven tapestries hung on the walls next to watercolor paintings of beach scenes. Handmade cedar baskets were displayed beside brightly colored pottery bowls and delicate cornhusk dolls. Several pedestals stood in the center of the open room displaying pieces of artwork.
These were definitely Rebecca’s work. The whimsical sea creatures holding shells and the reclining forms of women poised on magically shaped pieces of driftwood caught his attention. He circled each of her sculptures, photographing them from various angles and then photographing the gallery as a whole.
“Cameron. This is Jay,” Rebecca said, crossing the room towards him with the clerk at her side.
He lowered his camera, stood up from his crouched position and turned towards them. “Hi. Nice to meet you.” He extended his hand and Jay took it in a brief, but firm shake.
“I was just telling Jay about the article you are writing.”
“I might be getting some free publicity, eh?”
Cameron nodded. “If these photographs are used in the final article, I’ll make sure your gallery is mentioned.”
“Great!” Jay said with a smile.
Just then someone else entered the store and the bearded man in brightly colored clothes turned his attention towards the newcomer.
“Could I take your photo near one of your works?” Cameron asked.
“OK. Where do you want me to stand?” Rebecca nervously ran her hands over her wild curls.
She should have done something with her hair!
Yah right! Like what?
She knew she had one of those ultra-low maintenance haircuts. In fact, other than keeping it knot free, there wasn’t much for her to do with it.
You could have tied a ribbon in it, or pulled it back with a hair-band.
It was her mother’s voice silently advising her. The woman was always trying to tame and “civilize” her daughter.
A lot of good it had done though, Rebecca thought ruefully.
“Don’t worry,” Cameron said, looking over the camera he was busy focusing. “You look stunning.”
“You’re just saying that,” she replied, hands clasped nervously in front of her. She was sure he said that to all he women he photographed during the course of his job.
But he shook his head. “No, I’m not. I mean it.” His voice was sounding rusty again.
Rebecca liked that sound.
“Your work is so magical and mysterious, Rebecca.” Cameron commented as they headed back across the island. She had given him directions to the Co-op. On the grounds in front of the large supermarket building were several craft booths, food booths and small stores that opened during the tourist season.
“Thanks,” she said in return. She’d never known what to say about her work. She made it. It came from her heart, and she believed it stood on its own. Saying visually what she could not say with words. Speaking stories of mermaids in love, women in mourning, sea snakes rescuing drowning men. Speaking fantastical tales of a dream world she loved to partake in through her hours of labor. Creating her artwork was not ‘work’ to her. It was her passion. She felt compelled to form these images. And there was nothing that she wished to do more.
But she didn’t know how to put these thoughts into words and so she remained silent.
They arrived at the Co-op and found somewhere to park on the roadside. First, Rebecca showed Cam the sculptures she had for sale in the outdoor art-booth, Island Visions. Once he’d thoroughly examined her works, they wandered past the other vendors and made their way to Vorizo—the best outdoor restaurant on the island, as far as Rebecca was concerned.
The place was teeming with people of all sizes, shapes and colors. The mixture of tourists was almost comical. An elderly man in a suit sat drinking coffee next to a teen with dreadlocks wearing only a pair of jean cutoffs. A large dog was drinking water from a cup held by a little girl with pigtails who stood next to a man in biking clothes talking on a cell phone.
Cameron had brought his camera and he discretely shot a few photos once they were seated at an outdoor table. The table was made of a thick slab of wood attached to the top of a stump imbedded in the ground. They sat on a wooden bench that was also held in place by legs buried in the soft soil.
“This is quite the scene!” Cameron couldn’t help but comment.
“I know,” she said with a big smile. “Don’t you love it?”
He nodded. What could he say? It reminded him vaguely of a rural version of L.A.
They ordered, and soon they were digging into their healthy helpings of salad and burritos. The food was delicious and they ate in companionable silence. Visions and sounds of the surrounding market filled the air, and the unrelenting sun beat down on them.
It was hot. Sweat trickled down the back of Cameron’s neck. Rebecca’s cheeks were flushed. By the time they’d completed their meal they were both wishing they’d picked a table in the shade.
“Would you happen to have time for a swim?” Rebecca asked, wiping salsa from her hands with her napkin. She could feel perspiration collecting on her upper lip. She was thankful that she tended to tan from the sun’s rays instead of burning, since she was getting a full dose today.
She looked over at Cameron. He was leaning back, his strong arms folded over his wide chest. He was watching her. He didn’t look phased by the heat in the least!
“Little Tribune?” He queried.
She gasped, her lips parting, her eyes growing wide.
And she’d thought he knew nothing of the island!
Little Tribune Bay was the locals’ beach. It was the place people went to swim in the buff. There were also natural mud baths on the beach there, for adventurous souls. The bay was a deep C shape that protected it from the eyes of tourists and gave it the feel of a secret cove.
“Well?” He asked in challenge. He couldn’t hide the smirk forming on his lips.
To hell with work, he thought.
He wanted to enjoy Rebecca’s company. And if he could, he would coax her into a naked swim in the ocean with him. What was summer for, if he missed a glorious opportunity like this to have some fun?
“I thought we had an interview to do,” she muttered, her eyes skirting away from his direct stare. She felt a bit foolish. She swam at Little Tribune at least twice a week during the summer months. She loved the feel of the cool water on her hot skin. Of the gentle waves lapping at her. Of the view of the deep blue sky above her, as she floated in the sea.
But with Cameron?
What would he look like without his clothes on? Delicious, no doubt.
What would he think of her, though?
She was no delicate, feminine beauty. She was large boned and curvy and tanned in places most women weren’t.
When she’d suggested a swim, she’d definitely been thinking of Big Tribune Bay, the tourists’ beach.
“Scared?” He couldn’t resist the dare.
Rebecca shot him a drop-dead glare. “Of course not! Let’s do it!”
She immediately regretted her choice of words. She stood up abruptly and marched towards the Jeep. She’d always had trouble turning down a dare, darn him!
Cameron strolled after her, a victorious look on his face.
Yeah right, buddy. Now that you’ve got her to take off her clothes in your presence what are you going to do about it?
He knew he was supposed to be conducting a professional interview, but there was something about this brave woman that kept sidetracking him. He shrugged.
What do I have to lose?
He’d just have a good time, follow her lead and let things between them develop as they would. It had been so long since he’d felt this good, he was loath to examine his thoughts or motives too closely. He’d simply enjoy their time together, make the most of it and take one hour at a time. He knew he’d get his article completed, even if it took him an extra day to collect the information he needed. He sure wouldn’t complain about being longer in her company!
Rebecca lived a stone’s throw from their beach destination, so they parked at her house, intending to walk down.
“I’ll go get us some towels. Anything else we’ll need?”
Like bathing suits, she wanted to say.
“Sunscreen? Drinking water?” He suggested.
She shrugged. “Sure.” She stepped into her house and headed towards the bathroom while he routed around in her kitchen cupboards for a water jar.
CHAPTER 3
The water was deep green, the air rustled with a slight breeze, and the beach was wide with the outgoing tide. They walked side by side east towards a deserted stretch and there they laid down their towels.
Rebecca felt the cool ocean calling to her and couldn’t wait to plunge into the welcoming waves. She refused to think about the sexy man beside her as she reached to untie her drawstring pants.
She thought about the sculptures that she was working on at home and what she still needed to do to complete them. She thought about her bathroom facet that needed fixing. She thought about the article Cameron was writing. She tried to think about anything but the man before her who’d just pulled off his shirt and was standing half-naked before her.
He was magnificent! Well-formed muscles lay visible beneath tan skin, lightly sprinkled with dark, curly hairs. Her gaze lowered to his flat stomach and the patch of hair that disappeared beneath the waist of his blue-jeans.
Before she could change her mind, she dropped her pants, exposing her bare bottom half.
She wore no underwear. That discovery sent a wave of desire through Cameron. Her eyes met his and the challenging glint in them dared him to say anything.
None the less, he smiled broadly.
Bravely, Rebecca pulled her silk top over her head and tossed it onto her towel next to her bottoms. She was totally naked now. Her generous, round breasts exposed to the bright light of the day.
And they often had been, he observed appreciatively, noticing her sun-darkened skin.
As he took in her silent look that said, don’t underestimate me, mister, he admitted he was impressed with her bravado—as well as her beautiful body.
She refused to stand before his examining, assessing gaze a second longer, and she turned and stalked to the water’s edge. Hands on hips, she gazed out over the churning sea at the gulls that dipped and reeled above its surface, searching for surface fish. She gulped in deep breaths of the salty air and tried to calm herself.
She was used to seeing naked men on the beach when she came swimming here, so what was the big deal? There was something about Cameron that made her see his body as more than just a male specimen. He was magnetic, inviting, sensual. His body silently called to her.
Touch me, taste me, know me.
How could that be?
Ever since she and Jay had stopped dating, she’d focused her attentions and energy on her artwork. Their break-up had been amicable—they’d just realized the differences between them couldn’t be overcome and they’d gone their separate ways. She was thankful that he was willing to commission her sculptures at his gallery and that no hard feelings remained between them.
Rebecca, who had always enjoyed time to herself, had not taken kindly to being dragged to every social event on island and after she discovered that that was what Jay expected of her, she’d slowly started seeing him less and less. She hadn’t needed the hassles of a man in her life—and she still didn’t, she reminded herself.
She liked her life as it was. No complications, no one to accommodate, no one who needed her time and affection. She was happy to put all her energy into her art. In fact, that was what she felt it required. It had taken her thousands of hours of her labor of love to create a name for herself.
And now she saw a chink in her narrow-visioned plan. Cameron.
What could this man offer her? A short friendship? A short distraction? Something more?
She shook her head. It was all too soon. Too new. She wanted nothing from him. She would enjoy her swim and then take him back to her place to complete their interview and that was that. End of story. Kaputsky. That’s all she wrote.
And she’d never know how good it might feel to have his hard body pressed against her soft curves.
Enough!
She plunged into the cool sea and felt the liquid surround her, cover her submerged head, flow over her warm face and through her hair. She held her breath and glided with sure strokes beneath the water’s surface, emerging to suck in air only when she could stand the lack of oxygen no longer.
When she let her feet drift towards the bottom, she felt the ocean floor meet her toes and she stood. The water was shoulder-deep and now she dared to turn back towards Cameron.
Just in time to see his lean form, already calf-deep in water, plunge forward. With long, experienced strokes his arms cut through the waves and swum directly towards her.
So this is how it is going to be.
Rebecca threw back her head and laughed.
She’d spent ten years navigating these waters and no man could catch her, or beat her in a swimming race, if she so chose to play the game. Standing with her hands on her hips, she watched him approach. When he was about eight feet from her, she turned and dove into the water, striking out towards the deeper sea. Her breathing was even and she ate the water in front of her up with her long strokes.
After a while, she looked back over her shoulder, expecting to see him somewhere behind her in the far distance. He was about an arm’s length from her kicking feet, a playfully determined look on his face. His wet hair was slicked back making his square jaw look even more pronounced.
Her stomach dropped when she saw the predatory smile flash briefly across his mouth. She knew he was playing, but she wasn’t about to let him win.
Desperate times call for more desperate measures, she thought.
Disappearing beneath the ocean’s surface she did a one-hundred and eighty degree turn, heading back towards Cameron. Her plan was to swim right under him, coming out behind him. But he was faster than she thought, and, too late, she saw him approaching her underwater.
She gasped, causing her to breathe in the salty brine.
She rose quickly to the surface, choking and sputtering and treading water, expecting to be dragged back under the surface by the oncoming reporter at any moment. She blinked, finally caught her breath and looked down just as she felt gentle fingers brush the outsides of her thighs. The warm hands moved slowly up the her legs to her waist, and she watched as Cameron’s head emerged. A big grin lit up his features.
“Got you! You slippery thing,” he said, holding firmly to her bare waist.
The shock of his hands pressed to her heated skin and his wet, naked body sliding intimately up against hers caused her to momentarily stop treading water. His chest brushed lightly against her sensitized breasts and the sensation was driving her crazy.
Then her eyes went wide as she realized Cameron wasn’t treading water either.
Too late. They sunk into the sea, waves closing in over their heads. He let her go as he kicked back up to the surface. She didn’t. She let her body float down, down, down. Without air in her lungs, she knew she could sink to the bottom quickly. She would be there soon. She loved the feel of the deep-water sand running through her toes. She’d done this so many times before that she wasn’t afraid.
Her feet touched and she let her muscles completely relax as she drifted, momentarily suspended, five feet below the sea’s face.
Then suddenly she was being yanked upward by hands gripping her upper arms from behind.
Damn the man!
She didn’t need rescuing!
Her head broke the surface and Cameron maintained his grip on her. She glared over her shoulder at him.
“Are you crazy?” He demanded, his lips were a thin line.
A slow smile then curved the corners of her pink mouth.
“Were you worried?”
“What the hell were you trying to do?” He shot back, refusing to answer her question. “Drown yourself? Give me a heart-attack?”
She shook free of his grip and headed back towards shore.
This wasn’t what she needed. If only he knew the number of times she’d floated to the ocean’s bottom, lingering there until she thought her lungs would burst with the need to take in air! She’d shoot back up to the top, sucking in oxygen as soon as her mouth cleared the surface. She didn’t need a keeper, or a father figure, or a protector. She’d been looking after herself long enough to know what she could and couldn’t handle!
Stalking from the water back towards her towel, she fumed.
Where had he been when she got caught in the riptide off the Ford’s Cove shores? Where had he been when the chimney fire had erupted last winter, for that matter? Or when she’d hydroplaned over the bank three years ago, totaling her car?
No. She needed no one! And especially not a man with a penchant to flirt with her one moment and lecture her the next.
It was far too confusing. He was out of her league and she wasn’t interested. She didn’t need or want this hassle. And frankly, she thought, she could care less about completing his requested interview!
She flopped facedown onto her soft towel, burying her face in its clean folds.
Cameron watched her with consternation. He didn’t know what to make of Rebecca. Her beautiful, wet backside retreating towards their towels had been a most enticing sight, despite her obvious snub of him. He had to admit, he ought to have kept his mouth shut. Although he may have been scared spitless that she was drowning, he had definitely over-reacted.
If she wanted to attempt suicide in front of his very eyes—or more precisely, beneath his feet—that was her business.
Yah, right.
He headed towards her, still deep in thought. The strange mystery that was Rebecca continued to fascinate him. And the more time he spent with her, the more intrigued he became.
She had her face smooshed into her towel when he sat down on his own and he let her wallow in her emotions while he thought things through. If he was going to finish this interview they would need to get back on a better footing.
“Rebecca…” he began, deciding honesty was the best approach. “I may not know you well, yet, but yes, I was worried when you didn’t surface out there,” he said, looking towards the spot where they’d been swimming.
“So?” Her face was still hidden from view. She wasn’t ready to give in, or forgive him.
“So that’s why I got upset.”
“So you don’t think I can swim, is that it?” She looked up at him, her large eyes searching his face.
“Of course you can swim, you’ve made that abundantly clear. I wasn’t thinking rationally. I’m afraid that’s be happening far too often with me since I met you,” he confessed ruefully.
“OK… I’m not mad.” She heaved a sigh. She allowed her gaze to move slowly down his torso to his long legs, bent up in front of him. She longed to see the hidden parts of his anatomy.
A shrill ringing split the air.
“Damn,” Cameron muttered, reaching for his pants and digging into a in pocket for his cell. “Burdock here,” he quipped.
Rebecca’s eyebrows rose as she watched him produce the phone and flip it open. What a strange image it made, she thought: a nude reporter, discussing business on his wireless on the beach!
“Hey Garry! Guess where I am? Yah, yah. So you know I’m on Hornby, but did you know I’ve been skinny dipping at Little Tribune? …Really! I’m sitting on the beach soaking up the sun right now. What a life, eh? And—”
Fear flashed through Rebecca. She’d trusted the reporter to keep their swim to himself, now she wondered if he would divulge whom he was with. Without taking time to think of the consequences, she lunged towards him, arm extended and aimed at his potentially traitorous mouth.
“Don’t!” She cried.
“Oof!” Came Cameron’s grunt as she tackled him backwards onto the sand. The phone went flying. “What in the hell?!” He demanded, looking up at her with an annoyed frown.
He shoved her off him, sitting up again.
Slightly embarrassed by her outburst, she moved back from him.
“Don’t tell him you’re with me,” she said, the words an afterthought to her actions.
His forehead creased. “I wouldn’t do that, Rebecca. You have a right to privacy… of sorts,” he amended, taking in her full, round, heaving breasts.
It had been far too tempting, moments before when her body was pressed atop his. Tempting to hold her to him and feel her naked curves against his hard frame. He’d known he better remedy the situation immediately.
He wondered if she knew what she did to him.
His only defense was to remove her from his reach.
Remembering his interrupted telephone conversation, he reached for the dropped cell, shook the sand off it, and spoke once more into the receiver.
“Sorry about that, man. Got hit in the head by some kid’s beach ball.” He smiled with exaggerated sweetness at Rebecca. “Of course I’m fine! …You heard what?… Oh, that was probably the mother of the boy who pelted me… Would I lie to you?”
Rebecca had to admit she was impressed with his fast thinking and willingness to fib to protect her request for anonymity. For some reason, she trusted that he wouldn’t include this episode in his article. She hoped she was right to do so.
When Cameron finished his call, he looked over at her.
“Happy?”
“About what?” She asked.
“Garry didn’t suspect a thing until he heard your voice in the background. He didn’t seem to buy my story, either.”
She shrugged. “Thanks,” for lying for me. She couldn’t say that part.
He nodded. “Don’t worry. My write up will be classy and professional. Maintaining your good reputation ensures my job!”
Rebecca’s eyes narrowed, “Are you inferring that if people knew I was lying naked on the beach with you, it would somehow affect the sale of my art? That this—this swim is some sort of indiscretion?!”
“Hey! That’s what you were just implying by making such a big deal of that call!”
“I was implying no such thing!” She stormed—knowing she was contradicting herself.
How easily he got under her skin, making her illogical. Making her want to contradict him. Making her want him. It was all a blur of emotions. She reached for the vestiges of her righteous indignity and worked herself back into a lather.
“I’ll have you know, mister,” she said, one hand on her hip, the other pointing into his chest.
The reporter’s expression remained one of mild amusement. How could he take her seriously when she stood before him gloriously naked?
OH! He could be so calm—it irked her!
“I’ll have you know that I swim here nude at least twice a week and it’s NEVER harmed the sale of my artwork. In fact, I’m sure the mystique of having an artist with mermaid tendencies producing the mystical works I do, would be a bonus incentive to buy—if people knew. But here, islanders mind their own business and nakedness is no big deal!” She stood before him in all her unclothed beauty, eyes flashing.
He laughed.
What else could he do?
She was funny! The whole situation was funny.
She looked at him bewildered, then a smile crept into the corners of her mouth.
“You’re probably right,” he admitted with admiration.
This was certainly a one of a kind lady!
She plunked back down, and looked out towards the sea, calming herself with deep breaths from her unusual outburst. It took a lot—or a special sort of person—to arouse her to anger the way Cameron just had. And she marveled at the power he had over her to draw out that impassioned part of herself.
Needing to find firmer footing in the world of the mundane, she brought her focus back to the man beside her.
“All right then. I’ve told you a fair bit about myself. Your turn,” she said.
Cameron was awed by her ability to compose herself and change subject matter so quickly.
“Sure. What do you want to know?” Her firm, shapely backside was temptingly near and it took all his concentration to hear her next words.
“Well, where do you live? Are you married? Are you happy? Do you have kids? When’s your Birthday?” Voicing all the questions that came to mind
He laughed at her earnest interest and she broke into a smile. Finally the tense energy between them dissipated.