The Baby Snatchers (21 page)

The fact was, Georgie probably cared too
much, too. It broke her heart to watch tiny babies suffer, through
no fault of their own, but that didn’t mean she looked upon their
mothers with contempt. If anything, she admired the women for going
ahead with the pregnancy. This day and age, termination clinics
were readily available. Years ago, the choice of an abortion had
also been open to her.

Now, she wished she’d pushed her mom for the
answer. That way, she wouldn’t be feeling so antsy, as if something
were wrong. Her mom’s comments about their patients wouldn’t have
hit such a nerve if she wasn’t already on edge about Cameron’s
information.

She contemplated calling him. After all,
they had been going to meet after work. At the very least, she
could talk to him about her mom and get some objective feedback.
She reached for her phone where it sat on the coffee table in front
of her. As she dialed his number, her heartbeat picked up
speed.

“Hello?”

The deep timbre of his voice washed over
her, sending a rush of nerves to her throat. She licked her dry
lips and answered. “Hi, Cameron. It’s Georgie.”

“Hey. I was just thinking about you.”

The way he drawled the words in that sexy
voice sent a shiver of desire coursing through her. Her nipples
tightened in response. “Really?” she managed.

“Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you. I
got called out on a job and didn’t return to the office until late.
I was filthy after coming into contact with a few of the less
desirable inhabitants of our fine city and I came straight home to
shower. Now I’m standing out on my balcony all alone, contemplating
life. Cynthia’s gone to bed. I’ve been looking at the empty deck
chair for the past thirty minutes and I can’t help remembering when
you were here.”

His voice dropped to a husky murmur and as
the memory of that evening crashed over her, heat suffused her
body. Their kiss had been amazing and she’d been left yearning for
more. She couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if and when
they finally found themselves alone in his condo.

When he’d pulled away, she understood it was
probably for Cynthia’s sake. Cam was responsible enough to want to
set a good example for his young sister and sleeping with a woman
he barely knew didn’t quite cut it. Georgie ought to be grateful
for his restraint—and she was—but her body still ached for his
touch.

“Would you like to come over?” The words
were out before she could stop them and she blushed at her
forwardness, but refused to take them back. Cameron’s hesitation
lasted less than a second.

“Yes.”

Cameron knocked on the door to Georgie’s
condo and waited for it to open. Wiping his sweaty hands on his
Levis, he drew in a deep breath and eased it out. He wasn’t sure
why he was so nervous. He felt like a teenager around the girl he’d
had a crush on all summer—a girl who’d finally noticed him. And not
just noticed him, but who had invited him around…

The door opened and she stood before him,
beautiful in a plain pink T-shirt and jeans that clung to her
curves. Her soft smile lit up her eyes and his heart
somersaulted.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi.”

They stood staring at one another for a long
moment and then Georgie blinked and said, “Come in.”

Cam nodded and smiled inwardly at the
becoming blush that stained her cheeks. At least he wasn’t the only
one feeling nervous. She stood back to allow him to enter and he
followed her down a short corridor that opened up onto an
older-style, open concept kitchen and dining area. The room was
tastefully decorated with simple but expensive pieces of furniture.
High ceilings and decorative architraves added to the room’s
old-world charm. A large bay window looked out on the city, framing
the view perfectly.

“You have a nice place,” he said.

“Thank you. The building’s a little dated
for some, but I like it.”

“How long have you lived here?”

She frowned in thought. “It must be nearly
seven years. I moved here not long after I finished college.”

Surprise shot through him. Not many college
students could afford the mortgage on a place like this.

“I dipped into my trust fund,” she said, as
if reading his mind.

She’d surprised him again, although he
should have cottoned onto it earlier. The cultured accent and air
of refinement should have clued him in from the start: Her family
had money. Their backgrounds were poles apart. His family had been
barely able to get by, scratching to exist, from week to week—and
Georgie had a trust fund.

Some men might take issue with the fact the
girl they were dating had grown up wanting for nothing, but Cam
wasn’t one of them. His self-esteem was healthy enough that he
didn’t think less of himself for having grown up without. As far as
he was concerned, it was what you did after you left home that
mattered.

Kids were powerless, with no choice but to
suffer whatever situation they were born into, but as adults, their
options were only limited by how hard they were willing to work.
Anyone could get a college degree if they were smart and prepared
to study hard. With a good-paying job, it was possible to rise
above lowly beginnings and make a mark on the world. Conversely,
just because a person had money, didn’t mean they were clever—or
hard working. There were plenty of young people born rich who
squandered it all before they turned thirty.

After being kicked out of home, Cameron had
been determined never to be poor again. Poverty made things more
difficult than they had to be. It was as simple as that. He studied
hard for his final exams and was accepted into the police force.
From there, he’d worked himself up the ladder. There was an
undeniable sense of pride and accomplishment in knowing he’d done
it all on his own.

“Would you like a drink?”

Georgie’s question broke into his thoughts
and he blinked away the ghosts of his past. “Thanks, a drink would
be great.”

She moved over to a small bar that stood in
the corner of the room. “I have Budweiser and Coors in the fridge
and bottles of scotch, rum and vodka on the shelf. Or you can have
a glass of wine.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Red or white?”

“Either.”

“So many options,” he teased and was
rewarded with an embarrassed smile.

“I’m sorry. I guess I was raised to be a
good hostess, always able to anticipate the needs of my guests.
After having it drilled into me for so many years by my mother,
it’s a hard habit to break.”

“Hey, I’m not complaining. I love having so
many choices.”

“So, what will it be?”

“I’ll have a Bud, thanks.”

She bent down and pulled a beer from the bar
fridge and handed it to him. He twisted off the cap and took a
mouthful. The beer was icy cold and slid down his throat.
“
Mm
, that’s good.”

On the bar was a glass filled with ice and
clear liquid. A wedge of fresh lime was stuck to the side of the
glass. Georgie picked it up and brought it to her lips.

Vodka…or maybe gin.
“What’s your
poison?” he asked, curious.

“Vodka and lime. It’s my weakness,” she
grinned.

She took another sip from her drink and he
watched the movement of her throat as she swallowed. A smattering
of freckles he hadn’t noticed before dotted the smooth skin of her
neck. Everything about her fascinated him. His head might be urging
him to stay away, but the rest of him wanted none of that.

From the moment she’d issued her invitation,
he’d had a hard-on. On the way over to her apartment, he’d
fantasized how she’d taste and smell and feel and it had been all
he could do to keep his attention on the road. Now here he was, in
her apartment, with no chance of being discovered or interrupted by
his little sister. He wanted so much to take the woman before him
in his arms and kiss her senseless and the effort of holding
himself back was agony.

“Have you eaten?” she asked, moving over
toward the three-seater leather couch opposite the bay window.

“Yes,” he murmured, tracking her every move.
“Have you?”

She shook her head. “No, but I’m not
hungry.” She threw the words over her shoulder and then curled up
on the sofa and tucked her feet underneath her. For the first time,
he noticed they were bare. The intimacy of it struck him full force
and once again, he was filled with the need to touch her. He walked
toward her, his gaze fixed on hers.

Sitting down close beside her, he reached
across and gently tugged the drink out of her hand. Her eyes
widened in surprise. A small table stood next to the couch and he
placed both drinks on it before turning to her once again. Slowly,
he reached out and took her chin between his fingers.

He heard her small intake of breath a moment
before his lips found hers. Forcing himself to take it slowly, he
barely grazed the surface. She sighed softly and leaned into him.
Fire scorched a path through his veins and centered in his groin.
He groaned.

With a sigh of acquiescence, her arms came
up around his neck. He crushed her to him, delighting in the feel
of her full, soft breasts pressed against his chest. Her lips
opened under his and his tongue stole into her mouth.

Her mouth was cool and delicious. She tasted
of the tartness of her drink. He kissed her with mindless need. His
hand cupped her breast and he found her taut nipple and caressed it
with the pad of his thumb.

She moaned against his mouth and moved
closer. He angled her head to deepen the kiss and tasted her over
and over again. The blood pulsed through his ears and through his
cock until he was desperate to bury himself inside her, but still
he held back, wanting to be sure they were heading in the same
direction.

“I want you,” he murmured, his voice husky
and thick with need.

She opened her eyes and stared up at him
with an expression of desire. A pulse beat madly in the side of her
neck. Her lips parted and she offered him an unsteady smile. “I
want you, too.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Passion ignited inside him and he drew her
back in his arms. Half-lifting her, he settled her in his lap. The
exquisite feel of her jean-clad ass on his erection was blissful
torture and when she wriggled to get herself more comfortable, he
couldn’t contain another groan. With her arms still clasped around
his neck, she leaned over and whispered in his ear.

“How about we move to the bedroom?”

“Sounds good to me,” he growled. Coming
upright, with her in his arms, he cradled her against his chest and
headed in the direction she indicated.

The polished wooden floorboards creaked
every now and then beneath his boots. Vaguely, he noticed the walls
were lined with art works, mostly modern pieces he didn’t
recognize, but they added a splash of color and style to the
hallway.

“Second on the right,” she murmured and
flicked his ear with her tongue.

His heart pounded and once again, the blood
rushed through him. He burned to feel her beneath him, naked and
wild and yearning, welcoming him into her heat. The door to her
bedroom stood open and he strode in and deposited her gently on the
bed. The king-sized, white wooden headboard was decorated with a
mountain of soft pink and white pillows. Pushing them aside, he
followed her down and covered her body with his.

“Your boots,” she squeaked.

He looked down and noticed the lacy white
bedspread. It was embroidered in tiny pink flowers and looked like
it cost a fortune. Reluctantly, he rolled away from her and tugged
off his boots. They landed with a thump on the bare floor.

Not wasting another second, he reached for
her.

* * *

Georgie burned with need from the inside
out. She’d never felt like this before and it filled her with both
excitement and disbelief. She’d read her fair share of steamy
romance novels and had giggled at the sex scenes where the heroine
was almost breathless with desire and the man was built like a God.
Cameron still had all his clothes on, but from the feel of his taut
chest muscles and thick erection pressed against her, she was sure
he wouldn’t disappoint.

From the moment he’d arrived at her
doorstep, she’d been humming inside with anticipation. It had taken
him an hour to get there and the wait had been almost unbearable.
She’d had plenty of time to reconsider and it was sweet that he
still insisted on making sure she was agreeable about having sex.
He was a gentleman through and through and she still couldn’t quite
believe he was here, in her bed, kissing her like he couldn’t get
enough.

She tugged at his T-shirt, pulling it free
from his jeans, and pushed it up over his chest, impatient to touch
his skin. He assisted her by lifting it over his head and tossing
it to the floor. His pectorals bulged, covered with dark hair. She
ran her fingers across his chest and flicked her nails over the
small nubs of his nipples. His breath caught and she smiled,
enjoying the heady feeling of being able to turn him on. He
murmured something against her mouth and then his hands were at her
hips.

“Your turn,” he mumbled and pushed her shirt
up and over her head. His hands went straight to the clasp of her
bra and a moment later, her breasts sprang free. She slipped her
arms out of the underwire bra and dropped it over the side of the
bed and then turned to him and threaded her fingers around his
neck.

Drawing his head down to hers, she kissed
him thoroughly, taking her time to tease and taste. She nibbled at
the corners of his mouth and then swiped her tongue across his
lips. He submitted to her attentions for a moment and then rolled
over so that she lay flat on her back.

He smiled down at her. “That’s better.”