The Mogul and the Muscle - Claire Kingsley Page 0,52

was bedraggled, curling haphazardly as it dried. Her clothes were still damp, her wet shirt having long since soaked through her robe. I was surprised she wasn’t shivering. But she still gave her friend a calm smile.

“I’m sure.”

Emily squeezed her arm. Her eyes darted to me, then back to Cameron. “Let us know if you need anything.”

“I will. Thanks, Em.”

Take care of her, Emily mouthed at me silently, then left with Nicholas and Inda.

A woman in her late sixties with a bob of sleek silver hair and dark-rimmed glasses wandered in. She was dressed in a peach tracksuit and what looked like a fortune in diamonds glittered on her ears, around her neck, and on most of her fingers.

“Oh no,” Cameron muttered.

“What’s the matter, sweetie?” Luna asked.

“It’s Mrs. Vanderveld,” Cameron said. “If she’s poking around, the rest of the WWs won’t be far behind.”

“We’re on it,” Luna said. “Hey Daisy, we need to do some crowd control.”

Luna and Daisy moved to intercept the woman, their arms out as if they were either going to hug her or attempt to corral her. I had a feeling it was both.

I leaned closer to Cameron. “What does WWs mean?”

“The WWs are the Wealthy Widows. It’s a group of women who live in Bluewater’s condo building. They’re lovely, but very nosy. I just can’t deal with them tonight.”

Dante rushed past, grumbling about the growing number of golf carts showing up outside.

The police finished their search and asked Cameron a few more questions. I told them I’d get them a copy of the security footage. They said they’d be in touch if they found anything.

The Bluewater security guards successfully shooed away the residents who’d started congregating outside. Finally, all was quiet.

Cameron lowered herself onto the step at the bottom of her wide staircase. The entryway fountain trickled, the water meandering around the palm trees that grew through the specially-cut holes in the floor. I sat down next to her and she plucked my shirt.

“You’re still damp.”

“So are you.”

She let out a long breath. “Did someone really leave a fish on my bed?”

“Yes.”

“What the fuck.” She rubbed her hands up and down her face. “Who does that?”

Questions and next steps ran through my mind. The police would investigate, but I wasn’t going to leave this to them. I was going to find out who did this so I could make damn sure they never did anything to Cameron again.

“Jude?” she asked, her voice soft.

“Yeah?”

She hesitated for a few seconds. “Can I go home with you tonight?”

Putting my arm around her, I drew her in close. I didn’t care if it wasn’t professional. And when she melted against me, I stopped worrying about whether she wanted this from me.

“Of course.” I kissed the top of her still-damp head. “Come stay at my place.”

“Thank you.”

I just squeezed her. Anything for you, Cameron. Anything.

19

Cameron

Jude’s muscular arm encircled me, and I rested my head against his thick chest. Closing my eyes, I breathed him in. His scent and the heat of his body were more relaxing than a glass of wine. I indulged in the comfort for a long moment before shifting away.

“Do you want to grab some of your things?” he asked.

I shook my head. My clothes were still damp from the rain, but I didn’t care. I needed to get out of here. “No. Let’s just go.”

He smoothed my hair down and nodded. “Okay.”

I kept several pairs of sandals in a closet off the entry, so I slipped my feet into a pair while Jude put on his boots. He did a quick check of the doors and windows, making sure everything was secure before we left.

Most of the runoff from the rainstorm had found its way into the canal, leaving the ground glistening wet but not flooded. The humidity would be intense when the sun came up and all the moisture left overnight evaporated. For now, the breeze coming off the water cooled the air and a bird called in the distance. Thankfully it wasn’t Frank. That asshole parrot had a knack for ruining a quiet evening.

Jude insisted I wear his helmet, since he didn’t have an extra one with him. I dutifully put it on and climbed on the bike behind him. I must have looked ridiculous, dressed in nothing but a thin pajama set and a hastily thrown-on robe.

The engine roared to life and I wrapped my arms around his waist. He drove us slowly down my driveway and through the enclave, pausing at the