Page 31 of When You Are Mine

“I want you to be my only.” Cam stripped every barrier away from his eyes, leaving them wide open and vulnerable. “The only other person on earth I belong to, and who belongs to me. And then we can start a family from scratch. Something we never had.”

If she’d never met Walsh, never gotten caught with him in an electric storm, she would have told Cam yes with no hesitation. She had resigned herself to a marriage where the greatest fruit would be their children, expecting no real pleasure, no rush of emotion at the sight of her spouse. What a bitter irony that the man who cracked open the emotion she dammed away could never be hers.

Cam’s phone ringing jarred her, pulling her eyes to meet his considering stare. He didn’t look away even when he reached in his pocket for his phone.

“Yeah.” He listened and released a short breath, squeezing the bridge of his nose. “Okay, I’ll be right there. Gimme a few minutes. I’m at lunch.”

He ended the call and started rowing swiftly back toward the bank.

“Everything okay?”

“Just a glitch with that project I thought was wrapped.” Cam’s strong shoulders flexed with the force of his exertions. “I think fixing this thing might take the rest of the afternoon. This client keeps making changes.”

“It’s okay. Drop me off at my apartment. Do you need me to meet you at the party?”

“No way. I’m picking you up and we’re riding together. I want to be the first to see you. I know once you’re there and all dressed up, I’ll have to fight ’em off.”

“I doubt that. All those women tonight will be dressed up in couture. I’ll be in dime vintage. No comparison.”

“You got that right.” Cam’s smile, so tender and open, jerked her heart around like an errant kite with a guilty tail. “I can guarantee there won’t be any comparison.”

They zipped over to her apartment on his Harley. She pressed her cheek against Cam’s back and wrapped her arms around him.

He was a good man. His edges were rough, his mouth was foul, and before he met her, he’d been a player. But when he looked at her, he made her feel that everything he’d ever wanted in the whole world was standing in front of him. If she had still been a praying woman, she would have asked God if He could please, please, please make her feel the same.

Chapter Thirteen

Walsh glanced around the room, searching for one petite woman who could easily be lost in the crowd assembled for his mother’s birthday. The large room sparkled, the crystals of the chandeliers overhead vying for shine with the overdecorated women laden with diamonds. The room had been cleared of all furniture, giving everyone room to mingle and preparing them for later, for the dancing his mother loved so much.

He would have preferred a barbecue out back in the yard leading down to the river, just family and a few close friends. Not his mother. Not for her fiftieth birthday. She had turned this special occasion into a charity extravaganza, packed wall to wall with big spenders who’d trade their cold, hard cash for the chance to rub up against the high-profile partygoers Kristeene Bennett could bring together.

Jo walked up beside him, wearing high-waisted black satin tuxedo pants and an emerald green blouse that molded the sleek muscles of her arms and peekabooed her generous cleavage. Walsh looked frighteningly like his father, but Jo could easily be Kristeene Bennett’s daughter. Same dark hair, streaked with burned chestnut. Same impossibly high regal cheekbones. Dark brows arching in her creamy skin. Two things set Jo apart. Where his mother’s eyes were hazel, Jo had Uncle James’s startling gray, nearly silver eyes. And though Jo was tall and lean like his mother, she curved more, especially in the hips and butt. Walsh glared at some idiot he caught staring at his cousin’s ass.

Jo flashed Walsh a knowing grin.

“Leave the poor man alone.”

Walsh frowned, grabbing her hand and folding it over his forearm.

“I’ll never get used to guys eyeing you like a piece of meat.”

“At least someone does.” Jo twisted her lips and slid him a sideways glance, moving on before he had a chance to probe. “So who were you looking for?”

And just like his mother, Jo had a way of disarming him. Lulling him into forgetting just how damn sharp she was.

“No one in particular.” Walsh made his face as bland as beige. “You?”

“No one in particular.” Jo looked up at him, the silence making him uncomfortable before she relaxed her mouth into a smile. “Your mom’s in heaven. All this money in one room, all locked, loaded, and aimed at her favorite cause.”

“I was thinking the same thing.” Walsh pulled her close enough to drop a kiss on her forehead. “I was also thinking how much alike the two of you are. You look beautiful tonight, by the way.”

Some hybrid of surprise and disbelief flitted across Jo’s smooth features. He leaned in closer, considering for the first time that Jo, his fortress during his parents’ tumultuous divorce and his rock in the madhouse life he led now, might not know how awesome she was.

“Isthere someone you’re looking for, Jo?”

She’d know he didn’t just mean at the party tonight. She’d definitely had romantic interests through the years. He and Cam had vetted every one of them, fiercely protective of their Jo. If Cam was the brother he’d never had, Jo was certainly the sister.

“I’m not looking.” She smoothed the sleek cap of hair that had grown to hang just above her shoulders. “I’m too busy trying to get you and Cam settled. There’ll be plenty of time later to figure out my own situation.”

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