Page 29 of SALT

Clearing my throat, I startle them both. His black eyes find mine, and I'm certain I've never met him before. I never forget a face, but something about him looks familiar. However, I leave it be. It doesn't matter because he will never step foot in this house again.

"A word, Cameron," I say, my tone firm, leaving no room for debate.

She glowers as she twists the top on her coconut water. I know that look, but it's just usually never directed at me. She has no interest in heeding my request, but right as I'm about to speak again, she does. That's when I notice her outfit—or lack thereof. She's practically naked, wearing a long flowing dress that leaves nothing to the imagination. You can see her undergarments, and every stride she takes reveals her bare thighs. When she walks past me and into the library, my eyes land on the mystery man standing in my kitchen whose gaze is fixed squarely on her ass. What was a slow, simmering fury is quickly starting to boil over.

When he catches me staring hard, my displeasure evident, he quickly turns back toward the fridge. I won't waste my words on him when she's been my sole focus for the past thirty minutes.

Entering the library, she's sitting on a wingback chair with her arms crossed when I close the French doors behind me. "Did you forget the rules?"

She rolls her eyes. "You're going to need to be a little more specific. You've been demanding a lot of things recently. I'm not sure what's a rule and what's a mandate anymore because, I can assure you, I've broken no rules."

I don't know where the attitude is coming from or why she chose to leave work without me. When I told her I didn't want her driving and refused to hand over her keys, I sensed a little agitation but not anger. She's a smart girl. I know she hasn't forgotten the rules, so the question is: what game is she playing now?

"You left work without me. I told you I didn't want you driving?—"

"I didn't drive. Parker did," she answers sardonically with a smirk.

She's poking the bear, and she knows it. I know what I said. "I said you'd be riding with me for the foreseeable future, Cameron. Me, not Parker or anyone else. Me."

"You left," she comments as she looks down at her manicure, seemingly unaffected by my terseness. "And I was done with my shift." She rests her arms on either side of the chair before giving me her eyes. "I didn't want to interrupt your lunch," she says, drawing out the last word. So that's what this is about. She saw me leave with Lauren. Rising from her chair, she says, "So if we're done here?—"

I step further into the room. "We're far from done here. Rules are rules, Cameron. I'm trying to keep you safe," I say, my voice peaking with indignation as I grab the back of the wingback chair opposite the one she vacated.

"Fine. I'll only ride with you… Happy?" she questions apathetically, only further adding to my irritation.

I don't appreciate the dismissiveness in her mannerisms, and I hate believing she'd rather be in the kitchen than here with me, even though it's exactly where she should be. I wouldn't say I'm a greedy man, in fact I'd defend that I'm far from it, but right now, I'm the very definition because the last thing I want is her giving an ounce of attention to someone who isn't me.

"Far from it. Leaving early wasn't the only rule you broke. I specifically said no boys in the house, and yet there is one in my kitchen. If you are determined to feel what being held against your will is like, continue to test me. I promise you won't like the outcome."

She puts her hands on her hips, and her piercing blue eyes connect with mine, making my insides coil with dread and desire. I fear her as much as I fear for her. Her safety is paramount, but as she stands before me, looking like every man's dream, I'm worried that it's me she should fear the most. I'm the monster hiding in plain sight.

Her lips quirk to one side before she smarts. "I didn't invite our guest over—you did."

"Nice try, but I've never met that man in my life, and I wouldn't invite someone into my home without checking out their background given the events of this past weekend."

She rolls her lips and drops her gaze, shaking her head before saying, "I warned you, but you refuse to listen. You continue to talk at me instead of with me, continue to see me as a teen living under your roof instead of an educated adult." She pauses, her eyes still downcast as her hands ball into fists, drawing my eye toward her body and the nudity that lies beneath the sheer fabric covering parts of her I shouldn't see. Cameron has always put a lot of care into her wardrobe. She's far from shy, and while she likes to show skin, this outfit pushes a limit I didn't know I had. Her lips pop before she gives me her full attention once more. "The man in the kitchen is Camila's son. You ordered groceries this morning. Camila got sick, and her son, Diego, delivered them for you."

It's getting harder to ignore the blind spot that's growing when it comes to her. I'm so singularly focused on the feelings she evokes that I'm losing my damned mind in other regards. Camila has worked for me for ten years. I knew she had an older son, but I'd never met him. That's not Cameron's problem. It's mine, and I refuse to let it show.

"Even better. New rule. I expect you to wear clothes around my employees. Not whatever lingerie this is," I say as I gesture toward her attire.

She runs her tongue over her teeth before pulling the drawstring on the front of the sheer dress she's wearing, revealing a baby blue swimsuit. "Relax. It's just a swimsuit," she says as she lets the material fall down her arms before tossing it on the chair behind her. "I was heading to the pool when he walked in with your order." Then, turning on her heel, she gives me her back and an eye full of her ass in yet another thong bikini. "I'll go outside. You can see him out."

I want to slap her ass so hard for testing me. She knows exactly what she's doing, and the mere thought of watching her porcelain skin redden from the sting of my hand makes my cock twitch. Fuck. She only gets two paces toward the door before I say, "Are you trying to get him fired?"

"What?" she whips around, her face full of concern.

"I said you need to wear clothes around my employees. That's not a fucking swimsuit, it's a damn thong."

Her brow furrows. "Since when have you had a problem with my swimsuits? Women wear these, Everett. Go to any swimwear website and look for yourself."

"I don't care what other women wear. I care what you wear." Her eyes widen, and I realize what I've said. Before she can react or think to tease me further, I shut it down, knowing I don't have the strength, not when my nerves are wrecked, not when she's the reason for my sleepless nights, and sure as fuck not with her standing before me practically naked, knowing exactly how soft her milky white skin feels beneath my palm. "Don't make this into more than it is. It doesn't change anything. I won't hesitate to fire Camila and send you away. When I said I'd hold you against your will, I didn't say I would be doing the holding. I have zero qualms about sending you away until I get to the bottom of who broke into Connor's house."

Her blue eyes have darkened to shades of gray, and I know I've struck a nerve. Good. I need her to take me seriously. She can be mad all she wants, as long as she's safe. When she gives me no words, I head toward the door. With my hand on the knob and my back to her, I pause before exiting. "There's a blanket in the ottoman. Use it if you plan on leaving this room."

Cameron's determined to test the water and see how far she can push me. The problem is, she doesn't know how to swim, and if I jump in to save her now, we'll both drown.

"Banks, you need to keep your weight back. That's the second curveball he's thrown at you, and you won't hit with all that weight out in front. You react after the ball leaves his hand, not before. Try again."

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