Hunted (Wild Mountain Scots, #2)

All day, I’d thought about Cameron.

He hadn’t replied to my message, but if he was deep in a training session, so far from where my horribly suspicious mind had gone, then he’d be too busy for me.

To kill time, I’d phoned Rory, catching her before she went to class—one of her last as she was almost done with college. We had a long chat, and my pang of missing her only grew stronger. I then rang my agent, my manager, and everyone else who needed answers from me.

There was no putting it off any longer, I had to get on a plane. But I’d begged for one evening more.

Leaving Scotland meant immersion back into a world that had burned me. It meant tearing myself away from the first green shoots of good feeling.

From the man I’d found myself trusting.

Last night, I’d given him up a truth, confiding my act of revenge on Derren. Cameron could’ve used it against me. If he wanted money, he could have sold his story. Part of me still felt it was inevitable, but a bigger part wanted to be a different person. One without mile-high walls against other souls.

I beckoned him inside my room and closed the door after him. He stood in the middle of the floor and eyed my packed bags. “You’re going?”

“I have to. I’ve already missed so much.”

“When?”

“In the morning.”

Cameron dipped his head, a flash of disappointment plain, but then he raised his gaze to mine, and that same fire I’d seen last night returned.

I couldn’t resist him, even if I knew this would hurt. I advanced, and his arms came out for me.

God, he wanted me. Thank the lord for that.

Our mouths met in perfect synchronicity.

Never once in my life had a kiss felt such a monumental change. The press of Cameron’s lips to mine, the slide as he tilted his head, the coax of his tongue for my lips to open. It all gave something I’d never experienced before.

A whole body tremble took me.

When I’d arrived in the Highlands, I’d been shivering. Afraid and hurting. I was afraid now, but only of what would happen if I didn’t continue this kiss. I gave up a sound of pleasure, and Cameron clutched me harder, and echoed it with his own groan.

Oh God. Fever shot through my veins.

The warmth of his mouth banished the cold from mine. Our tongues met, and heat zinged down my spine. Wetness pooled at my core. All of this, my sensual side, had been shut down. On some level, maybe several levels, I knew I wasn’t ready. I hadn’t faced the pure fact of what had happened to me.

Derren’s assault.

At the memory, I fumbled the beautiful kiss.

Immediately, Cameron pulled away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean… This is a bad idea.”

I gazed up at him. “It is. I still want you.”

Frustration tightened his features. “I want you, too. So fucking badly it hurts.”

Some kind of finality played out in his voice, telling me this was mine to own.

If I wanted this, I had to lead. Except…I couldn’t. If I flipped out while he touched me, I’d be mortified.

But I should be able to do this. Own my pleasure. It felt important, a reclaiming of what I could be. I wouldn’t let Derren take that from me.

I backed to the bed.

Not one night had I slept in it. The simple wooden structure had been an ornament in the room. It deserved use.

But Cameron didn’t follow. Instead, his shoulders found the wall on the opposite side of the bothy, beside the window. He watched, held taut with need.

In the deep shadows, I could still see him.

I shuffled back until my spine hit the slats. Then I slid my hand under my shirt to lightly caress my nipples.

Cameron banged his head on the stone wall. “Christ, lass.”

“I want to try this,” I said quietly.

“Ah fuck, anything. Touch yourself.”

With my gaze on his, I inched my hand down my body, stroking over my own flesh.

I hadn’t touched myself in so long. Inside my yoga pants, I slid my hand between my legs and rubbed a small circle over my clit, moaning softly at the shock. I closed my eyes, chasing the heady feeling, pretending it was Cameron’s fingers.

Outside, night was drawing in. My time here was numbered, literally by the hours.

“I want to see ye,” Cameron said, strained. “Pretty sure I’ll go insane if I don’t.”

I swallowed, then, brave in the dark, drew my shirt over my bare breasts, sensing Cameron’s gaze on every exposed piece of flesh.

My body had come alive in ways beyond my control.

Then a zipper pulled down, and I opened my eyes to see Cameron push his jeans down over his hips and take his hard cock in his hand.

Thick and long, it glistened with precum at the end, and Cameron swept his thumb through his arousal then down over the vein.

He groaned, his expression one of fervent passion. Almost animal, though he held himself in complete control.

My own pleasure? It had been nothing without him joining in.

Bolder still, I wriggled my yoga pants down, earning a curse from the Scot.

Despite the space between us, we moved in coordination. I rubbed harder, sliding in my slippery arousal. He jerked himself, his actions barely distinct in the pale light from the lamp next to the bed. Exposing myself to him in this way was healing. Helping. Knowing he was getting off, too, took it far beyond that.

I came with a sharp cry. My orgasm took over me in waves, and I stilled my moves. Bliss washed through my system, relaxing me from the unbearable tension I’d carried. I managed to open my eyes in time to see Cameron groan and spill himself into his hand. His breathing came hard, and his muscles bunched.

After a moment, he grinned and peered at me.

“Christ,” he mumbled, then entered the tiny bathroom, I presumed to clean up.

I quickly dressed again.

When Cameron returned, he positioned himself on the bottom of the bed. Still, not touching me, still keeping me safe. Even from myself.

I beckoned him closer, and to my surprise, this time he came. I’d liked his hug too much yesterday. I needed another.

The big Highlander seemed to know, and he ran his arm around me and settled me onto his chest. This time it was his heart racing, mine calmer.

Somehow, sleep took me deep.

I woke alone, and to darkness. I was nearly always alone, even in company, so it shouldn’t have bothered me.

Yet it did.

I wished he’d said goodbye.

Soon, it would be time for me to leave, but maybe I’d have the chance yet. I found my phone to text him.

An avalanche of messages appeared in front of my eyes. Shocked emojis, capital letters.

Something was wrong.

Blinking to dislodge the last tendrils of my lovely sleep, I forced my eyes to focus so I could read.

Rory: How the actual fuck is there a picture of YOUR COOCH everywhere? And what did you do to Derren’s car?

I gaped and clicked on the link my friend had sent.

Sickness grabbed hold of my gut.

Exactly as she’d claimed, a picture of me sprawled and mostly naked on the bothy’s bed adorned multiple gossip sites. Some had applied a censor box, preserving my dignity, but many hadn’t.

Leading actress cheats with mystery man…

Elise at least keeps herself tidy downstairs…

See the shocking evidence of Elise’s naughty behavior…

“Oh God, no,” I uttered into the dark room.

But it wasn’t just that.

Impossibly, that wasn’t even the worst.

Though there were no pictures of the second incident, news had broken of me damaging Derren’s car.

The act of dramatic pettiness by Elise Darcy was explained in great detail, and with peals of laughter, by the performer herself when recounting the story to an inside source. The undignified way she handled herself…

I moved on to another.

A source close to the movie star gave a no-holds-barred account…

Then the final, slamming insult.

Derren had issued a statement in response.

I’m in shock. We’d talked about getting back together. I love Elise, but I can’t be with someone so full of hate and anger. Someone who cheats when I begged her to come back. This was her last chance. Please let me be alone so I can mourn the loss of the greatest love of my life.

I sucked in a shuddering breath. Derren had always been the press’s darling. He would be forgiven the worst of sins, while I’d be called out for the most minor transgressions.

I had no hope, none, of coming out of this with anyone believing the truth.

All I could see was red.

I moved fast.

With the last of my possessions thrown hastily into my bag, I stormed out of the bothy and paused, taking in the night. A taxi had been ordered to collect me from the estate, an earlier flight being arranged by my manager.

Even incensed with hurt, rage, and pain, the pattern I’d always seen was obvious. I’d been deceived. Betrayed.

By Cameron.

I rejected the conclusion over and over, but no. There was no one else who both knew my secret and could’ve taken that picture. There had been long moments when I’d had my eyes closed, safe in the knowledge he was as deep in pleasure as me. Multiple times he could’ve taken his snap.

He was the inside source. He had to be.

I stormed up the hill, not losing any steam as I stomped the earth. At his crofthouse, his parents’ car was absent, and I was glad for it. Glad they didn’t know what he’d done. Glad they wouldn’t witness what I was about to do.

Whatever that might be.

I had no plan, except in a flash, I didn’t want to see the man himself.

My heart broke, and broke again.

In the space of a week, I’d been on a roller coaster. So low on arrival I thought I’d never climb out, then high on happiness last night. I’d allowed myself to trust, and yet again, it had been the worst decision.

Cameron was just like the rest.

This time, manure in the car wouldn’t be enough. Obviously men didn’t get the hint unless you made a scene. Derren’s crime had been far worse than Cameron’s, and the revenge better flipped, but there was nothing I could do about that.

At the border of the garden, a metal pole poked out of the ground. Fencing, perhaps, though unattached to anything else. Perfect.

I snatched it up, staggering under the weight. Then I approached Cameron’s car. From inside the house, Ellie barked. Named for me? I couldn’t get my head around that.

I swung the bar at the nearest car window. My adrenaline fuelled the move, giving it full power.

The window cracked.

I hit it again, and it splintered into a thousand pieces. They tinkled, falling from the car. I moved onto the next. Crack. More sharp edges landed around my feet.

The door to the crofthouse opened, and Cameron appeared in the frame. I didn’t want to speak to him. Couldn’t.

I climbed up onto the hood.

With a scream worthy of a banshee, I splintered the windshield.

Cameron dug his hands into his hair and approached the car, shock in his lying expression. Ellie kept right at his side.

The glass. Her paws.

“Don’t let your dog out. She’ll cut herself,” I yelled.

With a curse, he swung around and manhandled his pet back into the house.

My adrenaline left me in a flood. I dropped the bar and stood at the edge of the hood, suddenly freezing cold again.

“Wait the fuck there.” Cameron jogged over and extended a hand to help me down.

For God’s sake.

Even after everything, I accepted his help.

Ignoring the flare of badly wanted warmth at his touch, I jumped and landed on broken glass. Then without ceremony or explanation, I fled.

“Elise, stop!” Cameron shouted.

I didn’t. I ran blindly with tears obscuring my vision until I found myself at the road. If Cameron pursued me, I didn’t know. I blocked out everything other than my destination, my goal.

Leaving here.

A car pulled up, the taxi sign bright in the perfect darkness. I climbed in, wiped my eyes, then ordered the driver to go.

Not once did I look back.