Sweet Surrender, Baby Surprise (11 page)

“Cameron,” she whispered.

“Shh,” he said, then kissed the inside of her knee and moved higher, to her thighs, first one side, then the other. Hearing her moan in pleasure, he used his tongue to part her sensitive folds and plunged deeply. Her wild cry satisfied his masculine pride as he delved deeper, pressing his lips to her, sliding his mouth and tongue against her slick center, licking and suckling.

She was intoxicating. He couldn't get enough of her. When she screamed his name, he didn't wait a second longer. He stood and, watching her closely, unfastened his jeans, shoving them down his legs. Her eyes flashed at the sight of his impressive erection.

“Come to me,” he said, lifting her up and onto his
stiff length and slowly lowering her until he filled her completely.

Her lusty sigh pushed him to the limit, but he forced himself to go slowly. At first. But she was so hot, so tight, so ready, that he began pumping into her with an urgency that brought him close to the edge of his control. Moments later, she cried out and he fused his lips to hers as he drove himself to join her in a climax so intense, he had to wonder if they might both go up in flames.

They leaned against the kitchen counter, holding on to each other like drunken sailors. Cameron wasn't ready to let her go just yet. He vaguely remembered fighting about something, but now it seemed nothing more than a prelude to some of the best sex he'd ever had.

“I might regret asking,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder as she lazily stroked his back. “But I need to know what you're thinking right now.”

He looked around, then met her gaze. “I was thinking I really like the new paint job.”

 

After the kitchen confrontation and its pleasurable aftermath, Cameron and Julia settled into a routine. He was amazed at how easily the three of them were adjusting to life together in his home.

Even though there were staff bakers at her store doing the yeoman's work of making the products she sold every day, Julia liked to bake her signature delicacies at home. She was up early every morning, kneading and mixing and baking and frosting, so Cameron got into the habit of joining her.

“Almost like a real marriage,” he muttered, and caught
himself wincing at the words. This wasn't what he'd had in mind when they entered into this arrangement.

He hadn't counted on caring about her so much.

And it was getting more and more difficult to keep from letting his feelings show.

 

“I can't believe my kid likes carrots for breakfast,” Cameron said, looking baffled as he fed Jake another spoonful of pureed carrots.

“He likes everything.” Julia poured herself another cup of coffee.

“Yeah, but carrots? Go figure.” He loaded another bit of carrot mixture onto Jake's spoon, then turned as a thought occurred. “Maybe we should start a vegetable garden.”

“Good idea,” she murmured. Her eyes widened. “A vegetable garden? With carrots. Oh, my God, carrots and carrots.” She grabbed the pad and pen by the telephone and scribbled a note.

“Well, we could have other stuff, too.” Cameron shrugged as he lifted the spoon up in the air and made like an airplane toward Jake's mouth. “Cucumbers, tomatoes, lettuce, maybe some different kinds of peppers.”

She put down the pen and sat forward. “No, carats, like diamonds and rubies. And carrots. And tomatoes and cucumbers. A garden. For kids. And a museum for the diamonds and the art and, oh, everything. That's it.”

“That's what?”

She jumped up and planted a kiss on Cameron's lips. “You're brilliant.”

“I've always thought so,” he said, flashing her a look of puzzled amusement as she ran out of the room.

 

Upstairs in the room Cameron had reconfigured to be her home office, Julia powered up her computer and began to write out a short proposal for the Parrish Trust board of directors.

She had always planned to open her family home to the public one day. It was too big, too magnificent and too full of her parents' rare and beautiful art, furnishings and books to keep to herself. But she'd also wanted to leave her own mark, provide something memorable, something different, something
important
to people. To children.

It sounded simplistic that a vegetable garden might be that important mark, but Julia loved the idea. It would bring children to Glen Haven Farm. Of course, this wouldn't be a simple vegetable garden. It would be huge, a community garden with terraced beds. There would be animals, maybe a petting zoo, definitely a barn, classrooms, field trips, picnics, fun. While children had fun in the garden, their parents could tour the Parrish Museum and Library.

She spent most of the morning brainstorming her idea before enlisting Cameron's help to pull it all together.

He sat quietly while she made her presentation. When she asked for his thoughts and reactions, the first thing he said was, “Why?”

“Why?” she repeated. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I get the garden idea. But why would you want to turn your home into a museum?”

Confused at first, she eventually understood his question. “You've never been to my home.”

He shook his head. “Not yet.”

She'd used a moving company to transport the bits of furniture, clothing and personal items she and Jake had needed when they moved into Cameron's home. It had all been arranged in a day and Cameron had been at work the whole time. She'd never taken him up to her house, so of course he had no idea what it looked like.

She leaned back and gazed up at him. “If you have an extra few hours today, I'd love to show you where I grew up.”

“I'd like that, too,” he said, kissing the soft skin of her neck. “A little later.” Then he took hold of her hand and led her upstairs.

 

Three weeks later, on a breezy Saturday afternoon, Cameron held Jake in his arms as he and Julia stood on the smooth stone steps in front of Glen Haven Farm, Julia's family home—or, as she liked to call it, the Mausoleum.

To call the place a farm was patently absurd, Cameron thought, since the elegant residence and finely manicured grounds had been designed and built in the grand style of a Regency estate.

The home itself was a three-story mansion with four separate wings extending out from what Julia called the central gallery.
Gallery
was the perfect word for it. There was priceless artwork everywhere, paintings on every wall, costly porcelain and silver pieces on every surface, and stately antique furniture in every room.

Julia's brainstorm had been spot on, Cameron thought now. The place was made to be a museum. But that wasn't what had excited her. No, she'd been trying to find a way to bring children to the house. Artwork
wouldn't do it, but a huge vegetable garden would. Kids could grow and harvest their own vegetables and have fun while they learned some healthy lessons. Julia had whipped up a business plan in no time flat and scheduled a trustees' meeting to go over her ideas.

On Cameron's first tour of the place a few weeks earlier, Julia had mentioned casually that the main residence was more than thirty thousand square feet. The lawns, gardens, pools, rare trees, bowered rose garden and other botanical delights comprised ninety acres of prime real estate overlooking Dunsmuir Bay.

With Sally Duke as his adoptive mother, Cameron had grown up with money and luxury, but this was something else. To be honest, Cameron couldn't help thinking that this amazing house, with its massive grounds and stunning views, would make one hell of a Duke resort.

But this was Julia's show, and it was now show-time.

“Thank you for being here with me,” she whispered to Cameron as they watched a stretch limousine wind its way up the long driveway.

“Wouldn't miss it for the world,” he said. As he dipped down to kiss her cheek, he added, “I've got your back.”

The limo driver parked and four older men in dark suits climbed out. As they approached, Julia grabbed Cameron's hand. He could feel the nervous energy coursing through her.

Why his strong, independent wife felt she needed backup was a mystery to him. After all, this was her home, her decision. Not only that, but it was her money,
her heritage. So who cared what these fat cats thought? Apparently, Julia did.

As the four men came closer, Julia smiled and patted Jake's butt for luck, then strolled over to greet the trustees. Cameron handed the baby over to the nanny, who took Jake inside. Then he followed Julia and greeted two of the lawyers he recognized from past business deals around town.

“So, Duke,” said Dave Saunders, an overfed blowhard Cameron had never liked, “why aren't you turning this place into one of your fancy hotels?”

“Who says I'm not?” he said pleasantly.

The four men exchanged glances and Cameron earned a skeptical look from Julia. He winked at her as if to urge her not to take any of this too seriously.

So these were the four almighty trustees Julia believed were in charge of her destiny. No wonder she thought she needed backup.

After the introductions were made, Julia led the entire group across the wide lawn to the first of many spots on the property for which she had plans.

As a light breeze stirred the leaves, the men stopped to gaze up at what looked like a smaller version of the ancient Greek Acropolis built into the hillside.

One of the men chuckled. “Ah, the famous Glen Haven Folly.”

“Seems a waste of good real estate,” Saunders mused.

“And money,” a third man added with a significant nod to the others.

“My father had it built for me when I studied ancient Greece in third grade,” Julia explained briefly.

One of the men sniffed. Another muttered, “Must be nice.”

Cameron stifled the urge to smack the guy upside his head.

Julia ignored the sarcasm and pointed forward. “Now we continue along this path to the western end of the meadow.”

As they passed an old wrought-iron gate built into an ivy-covered stone wall, Cameron stopped to look through the gateway. He hadn't noticed it on his first visit. Inside the thick wall, row after row of tall hedges were aligned in a circular pattern that covered a wide stretch of green lawn. Intrigued, he took another, closer look.

“Whoa, is that a maze?”

Julia stopped and turned. “Yes.”

“That's incredible,” he exclaimed. “You grew up with a maze in your backyard?”

She glanced over her shoulder and saw that the four men had stopped to wait for them.

“Now what?” said Harold Greer, the oldest trustee.

Cameron smiled. “We'll just be a minute, gentlemen.”

Glaring at Cameron, Julia said, “Yes, it's a maze.”

He pulled her closer to the gate and peered through. “This is amazing. Is there anything in the middle?”

She sighed. “A life-size chess set.”

Cameron turned. “You've got a life-size chess set in the middle of the maze?”

“That's right,” she said defensively.

“With life-size chess pieces? Like French royalty or something?”

“Or something,” she said through clenched teeth.

“French royalty, they wish,” one of the other trustees muttered.

“It's shrubbery, Duke,” Dave Saunders said with a sneer. “Get over it.”

Greer sighed. “Miss Parrish, is this going to take all day?”

Julia cringed. “I'm so sorry, Mr. Greer.”

Cameron's eyes narrowed. From her tone and the surreptitious looks she'd been sending the tight-assed trustees for the past half hour, this wasn't the first time she'd felt the need to either defend or recoil from her late parents' supposed profligate style. And right then he wished she'd never set up this meeting. He wanted to sweep her up and carry her away from their hypercritical opinions and high-handedness.

In his years of dealing with these kinds of guys, Cameron had learned not to take them too seriously, especially when he was the one holding the purse strings. But Julia had grown up under the control of people like these men. They'd been in charge, running her life, making decisions. As strong as he knew her to be, she'd clearly never stood up to these men before. No wonder she was nervous.

“Excuse us for just a moment, gentlemen,” he said, then took hold of her hand and pulled her away, back around the bend of the thick wall.

“What do you think you're doing?” she asked in a furious whisper.

After checking to make sure they were far enough away not to be overheard by the trustees, Cameron said, “Why are you trying so hard to impress these guys?”

“Their opinions are important.”

“They work for you,” he said, pointing at her. “They should be trying to impress you so they keep their jobs, but they're not. What's going on here?”

Her chest rose and fell slowly. “It's not that simple, Cameron.”

“It
is
that simple,” he said. “These guys have no say over your decisions.”

She shifted uncomfortably. “Yes, but they've worked for my family trust for years. If they think I'm spending money unwisely…”

“You're not,” he insisted.

“And you're not helping,” she added irately, folding her arms across her chest. “Going on and on about the maze and the stupid chess set. What was that all about? I need you to focus.”

“Trust me, I'm completely focused on the thought of chasing you naked through that maze.”

“Cameron.” Flustered, she peered around to see if he'd been overheard. “I'm trying to be professional here. These guys have never thought of me as anything but a frivolous trust-fund baby. Maybe I don't need their support exactly, but I would like to have their respect.”

“Respect?” He frowned. It hadn't ever occurred to him that his wife wouldn't be respected anywhere she went. And that thought just pissed him off. “Okay, I'm going to share some insider information that I think will put everything into perspective for you.”