Leather, Lace and Rock-n-Roll (16 page)

This time his groan turned to a growl.
“Uncle.”

“Are you sure?” Rachel suddenly felt very
empowered as a vixen. “You won’t be disappointed.”

“Stop, Rachel.” His tone was somewhere
between demanding and well, begging. “I want this to be
personal.”

Rachel gave a feigned sigh. “If you insist.”
Hawke’s momentary plea for time-out brought her back to her senses.
“Besides, I didn’t call to get you all hot and bothered, I just
wanted to find out more about last night.”

“Why don’t I bring Max and a cup of coffee
and we’ll talk?”

Something in his response told her she might
not appreciate knowing. “That bad?” she said lightly. “I realize I
was under the influence of something, but did I dance naked around
the punch bowl?”

Hawke released a hearty laugh. “I would’ve
never allowed that to happen. I just want an excuse to see
you.”

Rachel couldn’t have stopped her next thought
if she wanted to. And I just want an excuse to have wild, naked,
monkey sex with you. She cleared her throat and her mind. “Okay,
give me a few minutes to dress.”

“You better hurry. Since my shower will be
cold, I won’t be long.”

Rachel hummed to herself as she descended the
stairs. Cameron would be so proud. Silently patting herself on the
back, she entered the living area barely able to contain her
excitement. Cameron sat cross-legged in the floor with her
sketchbook.

“Good morning.”

Cameron spun around and placed a hand to the
base of her neck. “Good grief, Rachel! Next time stomp down the
stairs or something. You scared the snot out of me.”

“That’s what you get for keeping me
prisoner.”

“I didn’t have a choice. How do you
feel?”

“Fine. Except I couldn’t move when I woke up.
You know it’s July, right?”

Cameron shrugged. “The doctor said you would
probably be chilled. Besides, you must have slept awful hard last
night.”

“Why?”

Cameron cocked an eyebrow. “I thought you
fell out of bed this morning.”

“I dropped the phone.”

Cameron’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure you’re
okay? King Know-it-all seemed to think you’d be loopy for
awhile.”

“Believe me, I’m fine.” Rachel smiled so big
she thought her face would crack. “I just talked to Hawke.”

Cameron glanced at her watch. “He was awake?
It’s not even 7:00.”

“Wide awake. We had phone sex.”

Cameron giggled as she arranged colored
pencils in a line. “I’ve created a monster.”

Rachel lowered herself to the sofa. “I really
like him, Cameron.”

“I told you.” Cameron grinned. “Just don’t
make it easy.”

Rachel shook her head at Cameron’s advice.
Too late. Denying him now would be next to impossible. Her body was
just too darn addicted. “Have you finished the sketches?”

Cameron handed Rachel her sketch pad. “How
about this for the second floor?”

“Cameron, that’s great!” she said, “Hawke
will be impressed.”

Cameron nodded with a slight crease in her
forehead. “Hopefully. He doesn’t seem real comfortable with
me.”

“He’s just nervous. Putting down roots is new
to him.”

“Do you think he’s really serious about
that?”

Rachel answered with complete honesty. “I
really think so.”

“Maybe you have something to do with that,”
Cameron hinted.

Rachel dismissed Cameron’s suggestion. “He
had plans before me.”

Cameron gave a mischievous smile while she
rolled her pencils with the palm of one hand. “Actually, no he
didn’t. You drew them.”

Rachel yanked one springy curl. “Ha ha.” She
handed the sketchbook back to Cameron. “But the joke’s on you.
Hawke and Max are on their way over.”

Cameron didn’t even bat an eyelash. “I
figured they couldn’t leave us alone.”

“I need to know what happened last night.
Besides the fact that someone drugged me.”

Cameron’s expression softened. “Hopefully
James Bond has more information. By the way, guess who Greg left
with last night?” Cameron picked up a yellow pencil.

Rachel glanced down at the drawing.
“Who?”

“Monica Kensington.”

“Oh.” Rachel leaned down and tapped a drawing
of a corner bedroom. “Make that one blue.”

“Is that all you have to say?” Cameron
slammed her book closed and tossed her pencil on the sofa
table.

Rachel frowned in confusion. “What?”

Cameron stood, then plopped down beside
Rachel on the sofa. “Monica Kensington, Queen of the Damned, left
the hospital gala early with Greg Huntington, Jaydon Hawke’s
manager.”

“So?”

“First of all,” Cameron began, tossing her
hair over her shoulder, “Monica never leaves a society function
early. Second, Greg is young enough to be her son. And third,
Monica is a sneaky snake in the grass.”

Rachel giggled. “Cameron, it’s not a big
mystery. Monica just wanted to rub elbows with someone
important.”

“Maybe. But I still say there’s more to the
story.”

Rachel shrugged. “I do remember that Greg
drank a lot of wine last night.”

“There you go, then,” Cameron said smugly.
“He was too drunk to keep his snake out of her grass.”

Rachel’s eyes bulged. “No way.”

“Way,” Cameron insisted. “I’d bet money on
it.”

Rachel moaned. “Thank you for planting that
picture in my brain.”

“You’re welcome.”

When the gate alarm buzzed, Cameron grinned
and stood. “The cavalry is here. I’ll get it.”

Rachel giggled. Without her high heels,
Cameron’s feet were amazingly quiet. “Who is it?” she heard Cameron
sing into the intercom.

“Exterminator.” Rachel shook her head at
Max’s response, not sure he realized exactly what he was asking
for.

Minutes later, Rachel heard the door open and
close. Cameron returned to the living room with Hawke and Max
behind.

Hawke took a seat beside her and placed a
soft kiss to her lips. Rachel’s mouth watered. Her tongue shivered
to ask for more. Her body hummed.

“Do you need a few minutes alone?” Cameron
drawled.

Rachel felt her cheeks heat. Hawke just
grinned. “No.” He took Rachel’s hand and pressed it to his left
thigh.

“Okay then.” Cameron sat on the neighboring
loveseat and patted the cushion beside her. “Come, James, we need
to hear what you have to say.”

Rachel glanced at Max, his arms folded across
his chest and his expression hidden behind shaded eyes as
usual.

“Who the hell is James?” he asked.

Cameron lowered her voice. “Bond. James
Bond.”

Rachel couldn’t help the obnoxious giggle
that slipped out of her mouth. Hawke gave her hand a quick
squeeze.

Max stood still for a full two seconds, his
head turned Cameron’s direction. Although his gaze was hidden,
Rachel was pretty sure it was focused right smack on Cameron. And
in true Cameron fashion, her stare never wavered, her clear blue
eyes daring him to respond. Rachel swallowed her giggle, now not
quite sure what would happen. Even Hawke didn’t offer a
response.

Finally, Max unfolded his arms, sat beside
Cameron, and stretched his legs in front of him.

Rachel released the breath she didn’t realize
she held. “I’m not clear about last night’s events,” she told
Max.

Max gave a slight nod. “According to your tox
screen, Someone slipped Rohypnol in your wine.”

Rachel frowned. “Rohypnol?”

“Ruffies, the date rape drug.”

Rachel swallowed hard. Hawke gave her hand
another squeeze. “I’ve read about it. Apparently the younger male
party uses it most. Who gave me a dose?”

“Don’t know. We’ve got a room full of
suspects but no leads.”

Although she appeared surprised by Max’s
information, Cameron went after him like a feral cat. Fangs
clenched and claws bared.

“The gala was a closed event. The placed
reeked of buff, beefy trained military types.” Cameron tilted her
head to squint at Max. “Where was the bodyguard at our table?”

Rachel widened her eyes. The oxygen left the
air around them. It was quite possible Cameron had pushed too
far.

Max lowered his sunglasses and peered over
the top. “If I recall, Half Pint, you delivered the wine to the
table.”

Cameron’s mouth opened and then closed. For
the very first time in her whole life, Rachel witnessed Cameron’s
bewilderment. Rachel waited a few more seconds to speak, just to be
sure Cameron wouldn’t recoup and fire back with double
artillery.

“So, someone in that room laced my
drink.”

Max pushed his glasses back into place.
“Afraid so. Diablo PD is in the process of interviewing each
guest.”

Cameron cleared her throat. “Why Rachel?
After all, every single person in that room knew Hawke was her
escort.”

Hawke gave Rachel a weak smile. “We don’t
know for sure Rachel was the target.”

Rachel’s pulse skittered. “This almost sounds
ridiculous. Whoever planned this didn’t put a lot of thought into
it. I mean, what did they expect to accomplish with Rohypnol? At
the very most, one of us would have passed out. Then what? They
still would’ve had to drag us out. They couldn’t have done that
without being seen.”

“Unless they managed to get either of you
alone,” Max suggested.

“Hawke is never alone,” Rachel countered.
“Even I know that.”

Max shrugged. “Criminals are either really,
really smart or really, really stupid.”

“I only left the table two times, once to go
the ladies room with Cameron and when Hawke and I went out on the
balcony.”

“Really?” Cameron’s eyes sparkled. “What was
on the balcony?”

“I needed air. Monica made it a point to stop
by our table.”

Cameron glanced at Max. “Is she on the
list?”

Max shrugged. “The Chief of Police ruled her
out.”

Cameron snorted. “Of course he did. They’re
sleeping together.”

Max didn’t appear convinced. “She slept in
Huntington’s suite last night.”

Cameron turned back to Rachel. “Told ya.” She
then re-focused on Max. “As you can see, Monica is quite active in
the community.”

“What about the bartender?” Rachel asked.

Max shook his head. “Claims he didn’t do it
and no one asked him to. Besides, he had no way to know how the
wine glasses were distributed at the table.”

Rachel drew a deep breath then exhaled. “So
what now?”

“We wait for the police report. In the
meantime, just be aware of what’s going on around you.”

Cameron didn’t seem convinced. “Should she be
alone?”

A grin finally split Max’s lips. “Hawke won’t
leave her alone. And where he goes, I go.”

“Enough.” Rachel frowned at the irritated
tone in Hawke’s voice. He glanced at Max and then back at her.
“Rachel, we need to talk.”

Cameron stood and dropped her sketch book and
pencils into her suitcase of a purse. “That’s my cue to leave.
Besides, I have a lunch date.”

“Sean?” Rachel asked.

Cameron nodded.

“Max can take you with him.” Hawke stood and
helped Rachel from the sofa. “He’s going to the studio.”

Cameron slid a pair of sunglasses over her
eyes. “Fabulous.”

Max grunted and stood from the couch.
“There’s not a step ladder on the Suburban.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Cameron chided.
“I’m sure your big caveman self can give me a boost.”

Max shook his head and followed the stick of
golden dynamite as she burst through the front door of the studio.
As usual, her thick shiny curls bounced off her shoulders and tiny
gold bells jingled around her ankle with each step.

Three steps from the door leading into the
recording area, he maneuvered around her to block her path. “Hold
up, Tinkerbell.”

She placed her hands on her hips and peered
at him over her sunglasses. “Must you always irritate me?”

“It’s my job.”

“Well, Hercules, let me through; Sean expects
me.”

Max shifted his weight and folded both arms
across his chest. The lack of noise from inside the studio told him
Pirelli might expect her, but probably not now.

“Only authorized personnel are allowed back
there.”

“Look, Aladdin.” She paused long enough for a
trademark eye roll. “Don’t expect me to rub your lamp.”

He smirked. “You know that would make my
day.” Except she still wouldn’t get past him. “If you promise to
stay right here, Goldilocks, I’ll go tell Grandma you’re here.”

“Whatever.” She plopped down in a chair.

Max stomped through the private entrance,
didn’t bother to knock, and shouldered his way through the first
closed door. Just as he suspected, Pirelli was just about to bang
something other than his drum.

Max cleared his throat. The blonde straddling
Pirelli’s lap gasped softly and pulled her blouse closed.

Irritated, Max kept his tone low. “Pirelli,
you have a visitor in the lobby who claims she’s expected.”

“Shit.” Pirelli gave the woman a quick peck
on the lips. “Just give me ten minutes, Max.”

Max jerked his head at Pirelli’s current
distraction. “What about Barbie?”

“Could you—”

”No.” Max walked to the door. “I’m only here
because Hawke would kill me if I didn’t do something about
this.”

Max slammed the door behind him and sauntered
down the hallway, back into battle. Ten minutes alone with her
would be an eternity. Mentally, he wielded his sword and re-entered
the lobby.

He propped himself back against the wall.
“Ten minutes, Dollface.”

“Ten minutes?” she scoffed. “What am I
supposed to do in the meantime?”

“Keep me company.”

“That thought just warms my heart,” she
mumbled.

Max frowned at her statement, pissed off at
the whole situation. He took a deep breath and forced himself not
to speak. It wouldn’t warm her heart much to know what was going on
behind closed doors. She obviously had no idea what kind of man
she’d chosen in Pirelli.