side.
He still couldn't believe she'd entered that wet T-shirt contest and spoke without really thinking. "If your brothers had any idea what you've been up to tonight…" As soon as he felt her stiffen beside him, he let the rest of his comment trail off, sensing he'd hit some kind of nerve.
"They'd what?" she demanded.
Oh, yeah, he'd definitely broached a sensitive subject with her. The defensive note to her voice was unmistakable, and as he turned the corner and escorted her into the guest bedroom, he chose his words carefully. "They certainly wouldn't have applauded your efforts during the wet T-shirt contest, and I'm sure they would have limited your alcohol intake."
Abruptly, she pushed away from him, surprisingly steady on her feet. Standing beside the bed, she braced her hands on her hips. "Between my brothers and cousins, and now you, you'd think I'm some kind of helpless female in need of constant protection."
"Your actions tonight, not to mention your drinking, was pretty damn irresponsible. If I hadn't been there, who knows what might have happened." He sliced a hand in the air between them. "Don't you think those guys out in the crowd wouldn't have tried taking advantage of you and what you were offering up on that stage? Mix in the fact that your inhibitions are dulled from alcohol—"
She cut off his statement with a sound of disgust. "I am so not drunk."
He snorted in disbelief. "Sure. Whatever you say."
"Watch closely, sugar." To prove her point, she stood on one high-heeled shoe, closed her eyes, dropped her head back, and touched the tip of her nose with her finger without so much as a waver—a difficult feat for most people with all their wits about them.
Once that was done, she straightened and met his gaze, silent laughter glimmering in the depth of her eyes. "See? I had one and a half drinks. And they were pina coladas at that. It's not like I consumed hard liquor cocktails. I wasn't the slightest bit tipsy at any point tonight."
The truth was like a slap in the face. Cameron stared at her, stunned that she'd deliberately duped him. Then again, it was so like Mia to scam him and enjoy every moment of it. No wonder she'd been so damn obliging.
What he didn't understand, though, was her reasoning behind this elaborate ruse she'd concocted. "Then what's with this act of yours?"
Her chin lifted a fraction, showing a hint of her stubborn personality. "You automatically believed the worst, so I figured why not give you exactly what you expected?"
He clamped his jaw tight. She'd got him there. He had assumed the worst about her condition right from the beginning, but what was he supposed to think when she'd deliberately given him that impression?
He narrowed his gaze, scrutinizing her more closely. "So you entered that contest sober?"
"Yep." She crossed her arms over her chest, which plumped the upper swells of her breasts and added to her already eyecatching cleavage. "If you want the truth, I entered that wet T-shirt contest because I wanted to see you squirm a little bit."
He lifted a brow in a challenging manner. "What makes you think that would make me uncomfortable?"
"I'm not talking about uncomfortable, as in making you embarrassed," she said sweetly, which contradicted the sinful, taunting light in her eyes. "I'm talking about making you restless, as in hot and hard. And we already proved back at The Electric Blue that I have that effect on you."
His entire body tightened at the recollection, and renewed awareness sliced through him, sharp and intense. He struggled to keep a tight rein on his desire and knew it was tenuous at best. "Give it up, Mia. We're so not going there." Because to do so would undoubtedly lead them down a path of no return this time around.
"Why not?" She shook her hair away from her face and strolled toward him, hips swaying gracefully, seductively. "Do I intimidate you? Or perhaps I'm
He still couldn't believe she'd entered that wet T-shirt contest and spoke without really thinking. "If your brothers had any idea what you've been up to tonight…" As soon as he felt her stiffen beside him, he let the rest of his comment trail off, sensing he'd hit some kind of nerve.
"They'd what?" she demanded.
Oh, yeah, he'd definitely broached a sensitive subject with her. The defensive note to her voice was unmistakable, and as he turned the corner and escorted her into the guest bedroom, he chose his words carefully. "They certainly wouldn't have applauded your efforts during the wet T-shirt contest, and I'm sure they would have limited your alcohol intake."
Abruptly, she pushed away from him, surprisingly steady on her feet. Standing beside the bed, she braced her hands on her hips. "Between my brothers and cousins, and now you, you'd think I'm some kind of helpless female in need of constant protection."
"Your actions tonight, not to mention your drinking, was pretty damn irresponsible. If I hadn't been there, who knows what might have happened." He sliced a hand in the air between them. "Don't you think those guys out in the crowd wouldn't have tried taking advantage of you and what you were offering up on that stage? Mix in the fact that your inhibitions are dulled from alcohol—"
She cut off his statement with a sound of disgust. "I am so not drunk."
He snorted in disbelief. "Sure. Whatever you say."
"Watch closely, sugar." To prove her point, she stood on one high-heeled shoe, closed her eyes, dropped her head back, and touched the tip of her nose with her finger without so much as a waver—a difficult feat for most people with all their wits about them.
Once that was done, she straightened and met his gaze, silent laughter glimmering in the depth of her eyes. "See? I had one and a half drinks. And they were pina coladas at that. It's not like I consumed hard liquor cocktails. I wasn't the slightest bit tipsy at any point tonight."
The truth was like a slap in the face. Cameron stared at her, stunned that she'd deliberately duped him. Then again, it was so like Mia to scam him and enjoy every moment of it. No wonder she'd been so damn obliging.
What he didn't understand, though, was her reasoning behind this elaborate ruse she'd concocted. "Then what's with this act of yours?"
Her chin lifted a fraction, showing a hint of her stubborn personality. "You automatically believed the worst, so I figured why not give you exactly what you expected?"
He clamped his jaw tight. She'd got him there. He had assumed the worst about her condition right from the beginning, but what was he supposed to think when she'd deliberately given him that impression?
He narrowed his gaze, scrutinizing her more closely. "So you entered that contest sober?"
"Yep." She crossed her arms over her chest, which plumped the upper swells of her breasts and added to her already eyecatching cleavage. "If you want the truth, I entered that wet T-shirt contest because I wanted to see you squirm a little bit."
He lifted a brow in a challenging manner. "What makes you think that would make me uncomfortable?"
"I'm not talking about uncomfortable, as in making you embarrassed," she said sweetly, which contradicted the sinful, taunting light in her eyes. "I'm talking about making you restless, as in hot and hard. And we already proved back at The Electric Blue that I have that effect on you."
His entire body tightened at the recollection, and renewed awareness sliced through him, sharp and intense. He struggled to keep a tight rein on his desire and knew it was tenuous at best. "Give it up, Mia. We're so not going there." Because to do so would undoubtedly lead them down a path of no return this time around.
"Why not?" She shook her hair away from her face and strolled toward him, hips swaying gracefully, seductively. "Do I intimidate you? Or perhaps I'm
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