CHAPTER ELEVEN
Rachel adjusted the thin strap of her emerald gown one more time before pronouncing herself ready. Her hand shook slightly as she pushed a wayward tendril of hair off the side of her face. Good grief, you've been to a thousand of these things. Just not with Jaydon Hawke. When she agreed to go with him, she had no idea she would be this much of a basketcase. Truth be told, she should be relaxed. Especially after last night's romp in the trees.
She took one last look in the mirror and slid the mascara wand over her eyelashes. Flinching at the shrill tone of the gate buzzer, she groaned as the wand connected with her right eyeball.
"Oh...ow!" She blinked several times and then pushed the intercom button to speak. "Hawke?"
His sexy rasp reached through the box and tickled her nerve endings. "Am I early?"
"No, come on up." She rattled off the security code and waited on pins and needles until he rang the doorbell.
Taking a deep breath, she poised herself and opened the door. Only to find herself totally unpoised immediately.
The sight of Hawke lounged against the doorframe weakened her knees. The black jacket he wore showcased his broad shoulders and toned arms, the white shirt beneath was unbuttoned to the waistband of his pants to reveal his tempting, tanned, sculpted chest and steel-plated abs. Rachel wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. No tie. Her eyes continued downward tohis tailored pants fastened around his lean waist, cupping his package and daring her to unwrap him.
Hawke snickered and pushed himself off the frame. "Rachel, if you really want to go to this thing, we better leave now. Otherwise, we won't make it. Not the way you're looking at me."
Her cheeks burned. "Oh, sorry."
He grinned and ran his knuckles down her arm. "Don't be sorry, we could just stay here."
As good as he looked, she wasn't convinced she was ready for those repercussions. Rolling her tongue back inside her mouth, she pulled herself together.
"After I spent three hours in front of a mirror?" she teased, "I don't think so, Handsome."
He placed his hand to the small of her back as they left the house and approached the limo, only losing contact long enough to open the door. As she bent to enter the limo, she remembered too late about the barely-there neckline of her gown and glanced at the two passengers already seated.
"Hey, Rachel," Max greeted huskily from behind his trademark tinted lenses.
"Hi, Max." Although a little embarrassed, she fought the urge to giggle. Even though Max had already seen the girls, she was somewhat comforted by the glasses.
Greg nodded as Hawke slid next to her. "You look great."
"Thank you." Almost immediately, Hawke took her hand and pressed it against the top of his thigh.
Rachel's head spun as Greg explained the tactical procedure of their entrance at the convention center during the short ride. There was so much planning involved in everything concerning Hawke.
When they arrived, she watched Max unfold his burly frame from the car first and scan the area before he signaled for Greg. Hawke stepped out next and instantly, flashbulbs popped in the dark night, echoing like fireworks off the downtown skyscrapers. With Max positioned firmly in front of him, Hawke extended a hand and gently pulled her from the seat. Rachel drew a deep breath. This is it. Now I've officially become arm candy.
She glanced at Hawke and for a split second considered ducking back into the car. But when his incredible smile lit his face, running away was the furthest thought from her mind. She balanced one bare, smooth, long leg on the pavement and stood, holding on to his hand for dear life. As if he sensed her uncertainty, Hawke drew her next to him and tucked her to his side.
Once inside the banquet room, Rachel glanced over her shoulder to see Max pull the heavy oak doors closed behind them and position himself just inside the doorway. Rachel tossed him a thankful smile then led Hawke to their assigned table where Cameron and Sean were already seated.
Cameron's eyes sparkled with curiosity as Hawke pulled out Rachel's chair. Rachel gave her a smugwouldn't-you-like-to-know smile.
Hawke leaned down and placed a tender kiss on her cheek. "I'll be right back." He glanced at Sean. "C'mon, Pirelli, it's showtime."
Rachel nodded and then glanced around the room. How many people had seen that kiss?
"So, Rachel." Cameron leaned forward, braced her elbows on the table, braided her fingers and rested her chin on top of her hands. "What gives with you and Music Man?"
Rachel grinned. "Not what you think. We just spent a little more time together."
Cameron gave her head a slight nod and for a moment Rachel thought Cameron might actually accept her explanation. She should've known better.
Cameron's lips suddenly split into a mischievous grin. "How was it?"
"Cameron!" Rachel bounced her gaze nervously around the room. "Lower your voice."
"How was it?" Cameron whispered.
"Nothing happened." Unless she counted the most incredible, fully-clothed orgasm after the fire. Rachel scanned the room until her gaze froze on Hawke's long, lean form. His powerful, well-muscled body moved with easy grace as he mingled, the rich outlines of his shoulders straining against the fabric of his jacket. Even in a crowd, the heat that emanated from his body beckoned her. Her mouth watered as she watched him carry himself with a commanding air of self-confidence.
"Rachel, really." Cameron handed her a napkin. "Just do him."
Rachel snapped herself out of lustful appreciation. "I can't."
Cameron waved a hand in the air. "I know it's been awhile for you, but you probably haven't forgotten how."
Rachel rolled her eyes. "No, Cameron, you know how I feel about meaningless sex."
"And your reasoning is one I'll never understand."
Rachel sighed. "Me either."
Cameron tapped a fingernail against her wineglass. "The sparks that fly between the two of you are fiery, sister. I don't think sex with Jaydon Hawke would even come close to meaningless."
"You know what I mean."
Cameron tilted her head to one side and wrapped a curl around one finger. "You'll want more than once with him."
"That too." Rachel shrugged and made the one admission she couldn't deny any longer. "I don't want just sex from him."
Cameron released the curl then started the process again. "You want a relationship."
"Yes."
"What's the problem?"
"Oh come on, Cameron, we're talking about Jaydon Hawke, mega superstar, first class sex symbol of the world."
Cameron couldn't be swayed. "Who happens to be your escort to the Diablo Memorial Hospital Gala in Diablo, Arizona."
"There weren't any groupies available."
Cameron giggled. "Nice try. I don't think so."
Rachel opted to change the subject. "You know, I think Max likes you," she said nonchalantly.
Cameron winked. "You get an 'A' for effort. Don't think you can escape the subject."
"I'm just trying to be realistic. What could he possibly see in me? I'm boring to men like him, Cameron. I work long hours and then go home. To sleep. Any time I have left for socializing is for things like this. B-O-R-I-N-G," she huffed.
Cameron shifted her eyes Hawke's direction and made a clucking sound with her tongue. "Um, yeah, probably not.He's wearing a very obvious I'm-going-to-have-you look."
Rachel glanced back at him and felt her thighs heat. Cameron was exactly right.
Cameron nudged Rachel's elbow. "And your expression is so take me, you couldn't wipe it off if you tried."
Hawke shook hands with the mayor and then he and Sean walked back toward the table. Although now very hot and bothered, Rachel giggled, suddenly relaxed by Cameron's gentle teasing. "You have such a way with words."
Cameron shrugged. "Hey, I call it as I see it."
"See what?" Sean asked as he returned to Cameron's side. "Come on." Cameron stood and took his hand. "I'll show you."
Rachel watched as Cameron led Sean to the dance floor, wiggling her hips at him the whole way. She sighed softly, envious of Cameron's confidence.
"Would you like to dance?" Hawke asked, interrupting her thoughts.
A dark shadow clouded the table before she could answer and her response stalled on her tongue when she looked up at their unexpected female guest.
The familiar honey-dipped drawl made Rachel's skin crawl. "Hello, Rachel. Fancy seeing you out and about on the town."
Rachel struggled to keep her voice steady. "Nice to see you, Monica."
"I see you're entertaining again this evening."
"Hawke is a guest speaker."
"So I heard."
Monica paused, obviously waiting for Rachel's response. Rachel twisted her napkin around her fingers instead. She wouldn't give Monica the satisfaction.
"Well," Monica said finally, "you two have a nice evening. It was nice to see you again, Mr. Hawke."
Monica didn't wait to hear Hawke's response and stalked away in a heavy fog of perfume. Rachel resisted the urge to fan herself.
Rachel heard Hawke clear his throat before he spoke. She stifled a giggle at her next thought. Probably to get better air flow.
"Let me guess," he drawled, "she's the chairman of the hospital board."
Rachel twisted the napkin tighter. "Not this time. She's just on the fundraising committee."
"Is she always this polite to you?"
Rachel smirked at Hawke's sarcasm. "That was for your benefit. She rarely speaks to me."
"She's jealous."
Her hands stilled. "Don't be ridiculous."
Hawke untangled the napkin from her fingers, threw it onto the table, and stood.
"Enough." His dark eyes pierced hers as he lifted her by the arm. Pulling her from the chair, he pushed her through the crowd and out onto a corner balcony without explanation.
"Now." His tone was soft but strong. "You and I need to get a few things straight."
Still stunned by his dominance, Rachel only stared as he continued.
"I don't know who convinced you that intelligence is not beautiful but they were a damn fool. And you're an even bigger fool if you believe something so ludicrous."
"Hawke-"
He silenced her with one hand. "I'm not done. Not only are you insanely beautiful on the outside, Rachel, your insides are amazing. Your ability to compose yourself is outstanding. Your heart is big enough for at least three people, and your dedication to your work and your friends is incredible. Now, ask me again why Monica is jealous."
Rachel folded her arms and shifted to one side. "You rock stars really are dramatic."
Hawke released a husky laugh. "See? You have this uncanny sense of humor and I, for one, think it makes you hot."
"Hawke, you don't really know me."
"I do know one thing," he began easily. "A little bird told me about the charity you support and the time you devote to it."
"A big, burly bird or a little, blonde bird?"
"Never mind." He dismissed her concern with another smirk. "I'd really like to get to know you."
Despite her best effort, her smile slipped. "No, you wouldn't."
"Yes, I would," he insisted, inching closer.
Rachel felt her hair tickle her shoulders as she shook her head. "Sometimes people aren't who you think." This was something she knew for a fact. No way would she let him convince her otherwise. "And sometimes it's better to believe what you think rather than know the truth."
"Not necessarily."
"You don't think so?"
Hawke leaned back against the balcony railing. "Do you believe everything you've heard about me?"
"I haven't heard much," she mumbled.
His soft laugh wrapped her like a warm blanket. "Surely me and my gaggle of groupies have crossed your home page at one time or another."
She had to grin. "I did read something like that."
"And you'd rather believe that than know the truth?"
Rachel imitated Cameron's patented eye roll. "It's not the same, Hawke, you're a celebrity. The average Joe doesn't have the opportunity to discover the truth."
Hawke pushed off the railing. "But you do. Would you rather keep me away because of what you think is the truth?"
Rachel looked him straight in the eye, still very afraid of the consequences of her answer. "No."
"I'm offering you the chance to make your own decision."
"Why?"
"I trust you." His fingers rubbed small circles on her bare shoulder. "You want me, Rachel, and I refuse to let anything stand in your way."
She was now convinced he could see right through her. Flames licked her cheeks. "Sure of yourself, aren't you?" she squeaked.
"Very." He stepped closer and caressed the side of her jaw with his knuckles. "After last night, I'm positive. It's simple chemistry. I want you, you want me."
Rachel wanted to deny his observation, but her denial wouldn't hold water; her body reacted too violently to his touch.
She cleared her throat and demanded her body behave. "I'm not some sponge-brained groupie, Hawke."
"Far from it." He moved his hand down to caress the hollow of her neck.
Rachel closed her eyes and a small, barely audible moan escaped her lips. His soft touch made her limp with need. Coming to her senses, she quickly batted his hand away. "Okay, I give. I do want you. But you know as well as I do, it will never work."
"Why?"
"Because I won't settle for a one-night stand and that seems to be your specialty."
His eyes flashed hurt. "Do you really believe that?"
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound so abrupt, but you're a musical icon. Women literally throw themselves at you and stuff panties in your pocket on a nightly basis." Rachel tossed her hands in the air. "I don't even know if Hawke is your real name. And really, if I'm going to scream a name in the throes of passion, I prefer it to be a real one!"
Hawke only stared, obviously not expecting that particular excuse. And then she caught a sparkle in the depths of his eyes.
"That is my name and I'll make absolutely sure you scream it."
Rachel released a long, heavy sigh. "I don't have anything to offer you."
He tipped her chin with his finger. "You have much more to offer than you think."
Her breath caught in her throat. She could so easily fall prey to his hypnotizing charm. Slowly she stepped away from his tempting touch. "Let me think about this."
He shrugged. "Think about it all you want. You'll only make yourself more frustrated."
Rachel knew he was exactly right. Yet, like Cameron said, she shouldn't make it too easy. She gave him a wide smile. "I'm willing to take the chance."
***
Max shifted his weight and forced his queasiness to the bottom of his stomach as he watched Pirelli press the fiery vixen closer to him and position himself between her legs. One more inch and he could do her right there on the dance floor. Who the hell danced like that? His face burned when Pirelli's hand slid from the small of her back to squeeze one round globe of her ass.
Max glanced across the room and spotted a fire extinguisher hanging behind glass in a corner. That would put a kink in Casanova's game. Max shook his head to clear his thoughts. Who the hell cared? He wasn't on playground duty tonight. He glanced back at the couple just as she swatted Pirelli and moved his hand back to her waist, but it wasn't two seconds later before Pirelli went for it again. Max held his breath, sure he would have to peel Pirelli off the floor any second. Instead, she glanced Max's direction and smirked.
And then wiggled her ass against Pirelli's hand.
Behind his shaded lenses, Max gave her a stare he used right before wringing a neck. Or slicing an artery. Only, she had no idea she was on the receiving end.
Finally releasing his gaze, she swatted Pirelli again and giggled as she led him back to their table. She then swayed toward the bar.
Max elbowed Huntington in the arm. "Here comes Trouble."
Huntington tightened his hold on his wineglass, loosened his tie, and took a swig of wine. "Hey, Cameron."
"Greg." She nodded as the bartender handed her three glasses.
She turned to face Max and tilted her head to the side. "I'm taking two of these back for Hawke and Rachel. Do you need to taste them first?"
Max shifted his weight, prepared to beat her at her own game. "What's your poison?"
"Wine. Red. Most likely sour. Do you need to know the year?"
Max shrugged. "Why not?"
She squeezed her eyes closed for a split second and then opened them. "I have no idea. Shall I ask the bartender?"
Totally stimulated by her smart mouth, Max folded his arms across his chest and prepared to play. Then he remembered Huntington stood next to him, a witness to their game. "No, Cupcake," he answered smoothly. "I trust you."
Huntington coughed and a splash of wine hit Max's shoulder. Max thumped him on the back with added force.
Huntington frowned. "Thanks, Max."
She gave them both another narrowed stare then left. Max exhaled a long, slow breath.
Huntington cleared his throat. ""Uh, Max, did you just call her -"
"Strategy, Huntington."
Huntington swallowed the remaining wine in his glass then reached for another. "Good idea." He signaled at Hawke to step to the podium. "It's time for Hawke to speak."
Returning to his table, Greg downed the glass of wine in several seconds and glanced at his watch. Another half hour and they could blow this popsicle stand. He sighed and ran ahand through his hair. Although he wasn't quite sure about Hawke's decision to slow down, he fully supported it. And, seeing Hawke with Rachel only helped his argument. She had a way of calming him, bringing him into the real world, away from the glitter and glam of fame. Simply put, she provided the kick in the ass he needed to keep from becoming too cocky. Maybe Hawke was onto something.
"Mr. Huntington?"
Greg knocked over his wine glass, startled by a sultry, female voice. He blinked several times to clear his vision, pleasantly surprised when he was able to focus. Her polished appearance screamed wealth and confidence. A diamond necklace sparkled around her long, smooth neck, the longest link dangling a large stone just above the valley of her ample cleavage.
"Yes, I'm Greg Huntington." Part of him wondered why she approached him and the other, more stimulated part didn't really give a damn.
"Monica Kensington." She gestured at the chair across the table. "May I sit?"
"Please."
"My sources tell me you're Mr. Hawke's manager." She leaned forward, granting him a bird's eye view the skin beneath her dress. "The hospital board is very grateful for his willingness to help raise funds for the new wing."
"Hawke is honored to participate, Ms. Kensington." His gaze traveled the surface of her chest before returning to her face. "He feels it's the least he can do since he intends to move into the community."
Her eyes twinkled. "And are you moving into the community as well?"
Greg leaned his head to one side and suddenly decided against that position. "No, I work out of Los Angeles. Hawke is just one of my clients."
"I see." She reached across the table to run one red fingernail across his knuckles. "So we won't be seeing much of you."
He shifted, still not entirely sure how to interpret her attention.
"Thing is, Mr. Huntington," she continued, her voice heavy with heat, "I'd personally like to see more of you around here."
He cocked an eyebrow and tried to remember how many glasses of wine he drank. "How much more of me?"
Suddenly her toes caressed the hardness between his thighs. "All of you," she whispered.
Greg swallowed hard while his erection saluted her. "Give me ten minutes," he answered hoarsely, "then I'll be able to walk out of here."
As soon as Hawke finished dazzling the crowd, couples returned to the dance floor and several champagne corks popped.
Cameron leaned toward Rachel. "Do you need a break?"
"I could use one."
Rachel followed Cameron to the ladies' room and crowded next to her at the mirror. "So why are we in here? Your nose doesn't need powder."
Cameron pulled out her lipstick. "Who said anything about my nose? We've been so busy you haven't told me about your trip with Music Man."
Rachel shrugged. "What's to tell?"
Cameron colored her lips then made a smacking noise with her mouth. "If there's nothing to tell, you need to drop him like a hot potato."
Rachel sighed, then smiled. "Well, you know how I feel about flying. All I could think about was crashing. But I sat between Hawke and Max."
Cameron bobbed her head from side to side. "Not a bad place to be in an emergency."
"My thought exactly. We had a really good time."
Rachel paused and Cameron eyed her reflection in the mirror. "And?"
"I'm thinking about sticking a toe or two in to test the water."
"What changed your mind?"
While Rachel elaborated on the rest of the day, the gleam in her eyes made Cameron's gut clench. Maybe she shouldn't push so hard. Rachel could end up heartbroken. In fact, chances were pretty good this thing with Hawke would end, badly or not. Could Rachel pull this off? Could she have a fling without attachment?
"Cameron!" Rachel waved a hand in front of Cameron's face. "Hello?"
"Sorry." Cameron backed up against the counter. "Continue."
"He has kids. He took me to meet them and their mother."
Cameron dropped the lid to her lipstick. "He's married? I'll kill him and Max can't stop me!"
"Wait!" Rachel placed a hand on Cameron'sforearm. "I was kidding, sort of."
"Sort of? What does that mean? How do you sort of have kids?"
Rachel picked up the lipstick tube and handed it to Cameron. "The kids are foster children and Hawke is their benefactor. Francie is the house mother."
Cameron shook her head and tossed her lipstick into her velvet clutch. "Wow. A humanitarian. Didn't see that one coming."
"Me either. I was pleasantly surprised. And, you should've seen Max."
Cameron tilted her head to one side. "What about him?"
"He was just one of the kids."
"Huh." Cameron opened the door and waved Rachel through. "Sorry I missed that."
Rachel and Cameron made their way back across the conference room, stopping and chatting along the way. Once back at the table, Rachel put her bottle up to her lips and let the cold water slide down her scratchy, dry throat. Conversation always made her thirsty, but it seemed worse tonight. Maybe it had something to do with Hawke and his luscious self. Every time he looked into her eyes or grazed her with a touch, her mouth went dry.
Cameron plopped down in the seat next to her and picked up a program to fan the air around her. "Is it hot in here?"
Rachel searched the room until her gaze landed on Hawke. "Definitely so."
"Rachel?" Cameron stopped fanning and leaned over. "What did you drink?"
"Water. Where's that wine you brought earlier?"
"Right there." Cameron pointed. "Just go easy."
Rachel chuckled. "Why? So I don't get drunk and have my wicked way with Hawke on top of the table?"
Cameron gave her a sideways look and took a swig of her own wine. "Maybe. Do you have to be drunk to do that?"
Rachel leaned back her head and swallowed the whole glass of wine. "I'm not going to get drunk." She set the glass back on the table and noticed Sean and Hawke headed towardthem. Cameron elbowed Rachel's arm. "Speak of the devil. Why don't you guys leave early?"
Rachel took Cameron's wine glass out of her hand and took a sip.
"Enough." Cameron snatched it back.
Hawke stopped in front of Rachel and extended his hand. "Dance with me." His rich, velvet voice wrapped her like ribbons of silk.
Without a word, Rachel took his hand and they glided onto the dance floor. Hawke wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. Rachel laid her head on his chest, inhaling his musky scent. The room began a slow spin.
Rachel held tighter to Hawke and blamed the dancing and her overactive heartbeat. She attempted to follow his lead and managed a few more steps when she felt disconnected from her body. She knew that if he weren't holding her so close, she would slide down his body onto the floor.
She lifted her head from his chest and blinked her eyes several times. "Hawke, I really need to sit down."
Hawke lifted her chin. "Rachel?"
She stumbled and grabbed Hawke's arm to keep from kissing the floor. Her legs felt like jelly and her vision blurred.
Hawke guided her to the table and Rachel stumbled again, this time almost tumbling head first into the floral centerpiece. Cameron frowned.
"How much has she had to drink?" Hawke asked.
Cameron reached to reposition the flowers. "One glass of wine. She's not drunk."
"I have to go to the ladies' room," Rachel mumbled.
"Good idea." Cameron took her arm. "I'll go with you."
They made it to the hallway before Rachel's legs buckled and she slid toward the floor. Cameron held on and managed to ease her down against the wall.
Cameron squatted beside her. "Rachel, you're scaring me."
Rachel rolled her head to the side. "I'm scaring me too. Cameron, I can't feel my arms or legs."
"Just sit here and relax." Cameron stood and headed back to the gala. "I'm going for help."
"I'm not going anywhere," Rachel mumbled.
Cameron hurried back into the conference room, fighting the urge to sprint and scream. Since that would attract way too much unwanted attention, she forced herself to walk... really fast. Unfortunately, Max and Hawke stood on the far side of the room.
Weaving her way through tables and waiters,she finally stopped beside Max. She wrapped her fingers around his biceps, although halfway was all she could manage. "I need you in the hallway." She glanced at Hawke. "You too."
"What's wrong, Cameron?" Hawke asked.
"Rachel's sprawled in the floor-" Suddenly, her lips were pressed against Max's palm.
"Not here."
Hawke didn't wait for her answer and left the room. Cameron glanced up at Max with narrowed eyes. And then bit down hard on his middle finger.
She expected him to curse, both the pain and her, but instead he held her lips hostage and gestured behind her with his head.
Cameron whipped around so hard she almost tumbled into Greg and Monica. Max gripped her waist to keep her upright.
Greg laughed. "Guess we've all had a little much to drink."
Cameron all but shouted at him. "I'm not drunk, you lush, just-"
This time Max gave her curls a serious yank."Yeah, she just needs to sleep it off."
Greg gave a goofy grin. "We're going to call it a night. Do you need anything before I go?"
"As a matter of fact," Cameron said, "I do. Could you please tell Sean I'm leaving with Rachel?"
Greg gripped the back of a chair. "Actually, he-"
"Huntington will deliver the message." Max put a hand to the small of her back and pushed her to move.
"Where are Hawke and Rachel?" Monica asked.
Max nudged Cameron further from the table. "Waiting for us in the hallway."
Hawke had managed to get Rachel upright and into a chair outside the door, but she was still limp and incoherent when they reached her. Her eyes were open but not focused.
"Get the car, Max." Hawke lifted Rachel into his arms.
"Done. It's parked at the side entrance."
Max opened the limo door and motioned Hawke through. Cameron felt two very large hands on her backside as she bent to make sure Rachel rested comfortably in Hawke's lap.
She scowled at the owner over her shoulder. "Watch the hands, Mr. Big."
Max didn't offer an apology and shoved her inside just before he crawled in beside her and barked orders at the driver.
As they sped through town, Hawke held Rachel on his lap, tenderly sweeping her hair out of her face and whispering to her. Max punched numbers on his cell phone, spoke in some sort of bodyguard language, then dialed again.
Cameron dropped her head into her hands. What on Earth happened tonight? She knew for a fact Rachel didn't drink anything other than one glass of wine. She racked her brain for answers, interrupted when someone shook her shoulder.
"Hey, did you hear me?"
She lifted her head to address the hey man."No, Frankenstein, I'm kinda freaked out right now. Listening to you isn't my first priority."
He pursed his lips. "Did you eat or drink anything that she did? Does she have some kind of medical condition that could have caused this?"
Cameron prayed for patience. "No medical condition. I didn't eat off her plate and she didn't eat off mine."
"How do you feel?"
She gave him an over-exaggerated smile. "Peachy. And you?"
He totally ignored her sarcasm and kept firing questions. "What about alcohol?"
"She only drank the wine I offered you to taste."
"Did you ever leave the table unattended?"
"Yes, Daddy, we went to the ladies'room."
Max paused and his chest rose and fell with several deep breaths. He peered over the top of his sunglasses and she caught the dim sparkle in his eyes. She cursed her smart mouth. Apparently, he read more into the daddy comment than she intended.
"When we came back, she drank some water and the glass of wine. I only sipped mine."
Max didn't answer and the questions stopped. Cameron breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back against the seat.
Once at the hospital, Max opened the door, stepped out, and scooped Rachel from Hawke's lap. "I'll be back for you two."
Cameron shook her head. "We're right behind you."
"I said I'll be back."
Cameron glanced at Hawke then back at Max. "I'm not letting her go in alone."
All of a sudden, Joe Cool blew his cool all over her. "So help me God, you come out of that car and I'll turn you over my knee and paddle your ass here and now."
Hawke inhaled a sharp breath. Cameron sat motionless, her eyes wide. Max slammed the door.
Before she could formulate an appropriate response to his threat, other than paddle me, please, he returned and flung open the door.
"Out."
Cameron left the car with Hawke behind her. Max shuffled them through the Emergency Room and then into a private waiting room in one corner.
"As soon as the doctor takes a look at her, we can go in."
Cameron crossed her knees and swung one leg as she listened to Hawke and Max and tried not to panic.
"What do you think, Max?" Hawke's normally smooth, husky tone held a slight quiver.
"I'm thinking drugs."
Hawke released a rough breath. "What the hell?"
Max shrugged. "She can't even stand straight. Either that or she's allergic to something."
Cameron's leg stilled. She glanced down at her knees and noticed her earlier movement had inched the hem of her dress to her upper thigh. She stole a quick glance at both men. Hawke's head was now lowered in his hands. Max, however, appeared to be staring straight at her. Those sexy dark lenses prevented her from knowing for sure. With no other choice, she wiggled the fabric back to its rightful place at mid-thigh.
She cleared her throat. "All those people know and respect Rachel. Why would one of them drug her?"
Hawke raised his head. "The drug might not have been meant for her, Cameron."
Cameron felt her eyes widen to at least quarter size. "You?"
Hawke nodded.
She looked at Max. "Really?"
Max echoed Hawke's nod. "There's some sick fu-, uh people, in the world."
Cameron's body began to tremble. She stood and stepped to the door. "I'm going to check on her."
The door snapped shut behind her. Max waited three full seconds then stood and cracked the door, just to be sure the pint sized firecracker was out of earshot. When he couldn't spot her, he eased the door closed.
"Rachel's the target, no question in my mind."
Hawke scrubbed a hand over his jaw. "Diego doesn't have the decoy yet."
"True, but he may already suspect something."
"I don't think she realizes what's going on. She's a pawn, that's all."
"You're supposed to have evidence to back that up."
"Working on it." Hawke leaned his head back against the top of the chair. "What happens when Diego finds out the package is empty? He won't hesitate to kill her, Max."
"You know what you have to do."
Hawk lifted his head and glared. "No."
"Why the hell not?"
"She finally trusts me."
"Try again."
"She'll never understand."
"This is a mission. You knew the repercussions going in."
Hawke released a hard breath. "There has to be another way."
"There's not. I suggest you do it now before someone else makes the decision for you."
"I will soon." Hawke scrubbed a hand down his jaw. "Should I go after Cameron? She's about to fall apart."
"Give her some space, Hawke. It won't be long until she's back to normal." Max released a heavy sigh. "God help us all."