Risky Pleasures by Brenda Jackson

knew he had to leave with her. Now.
    “What would you like to have, sir?”
    He blinked when he realized the bartender had asked him a question. He broke eye contact with Vanessa to glance at the man long enough to say, “Nothing.”
    The only thing he wanted to have was Vanessa. He turned to stride back to her, hoping that she would take his suggestion that they leave now.
     
    Vanessa watched as Cameron began walking toward her, his eyes locked with hers. Even across the distance she felt his heat and read the intense look in his gaze. His shoulders looked massive and he appeared larger than life with every step he took. There was a profound sexiness about him. The way his pants fit his body had her mesmerized because she could tell when she glanced below his waist that he was aroused. From what? Just looking at her? Hidden fantasies in his mind?
    She was glad that everyone else around them was caught up in the concert and didn’t notice that she and Cameron were caught up only in each other. The closer he got the more she could feel her heart thundering, beating wildly in her chest. She no longer wondered how their night would end. He was painting a very clear picture.
    “Our drinks?” she asked, when he finally reached her empty-handed.
    “I think we need more than alcohol to cool off,” he said huskily, reaching out and gently drawing her to him.
    She met his heated gaze. “Do we?”
    “Yes.”
    She then surprised Cameron by placing her arms around his neck, bringing her body up close to his. He knew there was no way she couldn’t feel his erection, the intensity of his desire for her. Hell, she probably had noticed it when he was walking back toward her.
    “And what do you think we need, Cameron Cody?” she asked, breaking into his thoughts.
    The corners of his lips turned up slightly as he stared down at her. Then he leaned close to her ear and whispered, “I think we need to go someplace where we can be alone.”
    She gazed into his eyes for several long moments before saying softly, “I think you’re right.”

Chapter 8
    “W ould you like to see the progress that’s been made on Cheyenne’s pool, Cameron?”
    No. Not really, Cameron thought as he leaned against the closed door. He dug his hands into the pockets of his trousers and watched as Vanessa crossed the room, her skirt twirling in fluid motion around her legs when she walked.
    The ride from the concert had been the hardest drive he’d ever made. More than once he’d been tempted to pull to the side of the road, tug her into his arms and start something that he could handle a lot better in a bedroom. Right now the last thing he was interested in seeing was a swimming pool under construction.
    “Cameron?”
    When he hadn’t answered, she turned and was looking at him with one beautifully arched eyebrow raised. He could tell she was nervous and that it would be to his advantage to do whatever it took to make her comfortable. And if that meant seeing her sister’s pool then so be it.
    Pulling his hands out of his pockets, he stepped a little farther into the room. “Yes, I’d like to see it.” He then tilted his head in the general direction where he figured the pool to be and said, “Isn’t it dark out back?”
    “With the flip of a switch the area will become well lit.”
    Great. “All right, then, show me.”
    He followed as she led him through the living room where she opened a set of French doors. The scent of the ocean immediately filled their nostrils, but it was her scent that was driving him wild, and it had done so all evening.
    When he followed her onto the patio, she flipped a switch and, true to her word the area lit up and he saw it—a huge cemented hole in the ground. “When I first arrived they were just digging it out,” she was saying. “Now it’s begun to take shape. Already I can tell it’s going to be beautiful.”
    He shook his head and his mouth curled into a smile. “Pools aren’t beautiful, Vanessa.