Chapter 15

 

Camille excused herself to shower and dress. Holding her as she cried was the hardest thing Marc had ever done. He wanted to get his hands on the person responsible.

 

Marc reached for his cell phone and called his brother. He asked him to pull any stateside records for Precious Ventures. As he disconnected the call, Camille entered the room. She changed from her casual clothes to her signature suit. She looked exhausted, but still beautiful. He stood to meet her, opened his arms and she walked into his embrace. He held her until she squeaked, ”I can’t breathe.”

 

They laughed, relieving the strain in the air. “Are you going to be all right?”

 

“Yes, I’ll work half a day and leave for Dallas this afternoon.”

 

She stood before him and immediately transformed from Cami to Camille. Gone was the vulnerability. Now she stood with her face full of determination. It seemed so sudden that he had to take a step forward. He placed a finger beneath her chin, turning her face to him. He ran his thumb under the light rings under her eyes.

 

“How much sleep did you get last night?”

 

She shrugged and whispered, “A couple of hours.”

 

He groaned and she smiled. “What’s so funny about planning to drive five hours on two hours of sleep?” It didn’t sound like a good idea to him.

 

“It’s not funny, but necessary. What I find funny are your grunts of protest.”

 

The humor reached her eyes and he liked the way they twinkled. He kissed the tip of her noses and declared, “I’m coming with you. What time do you need me back?”

 

Camille hesitated, but he was prepared to tag along whether she liked it or not.

 

“What about three?

 

 “Okay. Go and finish getting ready.”

 

Marc heard the coffeemaker begin and the aroma of hazelnut filled the air. He released her.

 

“Would you like me to make you a cup?”

 

 “Yes,“ she nodded and the delight in her face made him want to drop everything and kiss her again. Instead, he allowed her to walk away and get ready for work.

 

“I think you should pack now and put your luggage in your trunk,” he called to her. “We could meet at my parent’s house. You can leave your car there and we’ll take the rental car.”

 

She stood in the doorway as he explained further. “I don’t want you to leave your vehicle unattended. Plus I think we should ride in an unrecognizable vehicle, as a precaution.”

 

That seemed to appease her because she left heading toward what he’d presume was her bedroom. He made her coffee and decided to be nosey. He retraced her steps and found himself in her bedroom doorway.

 

He stepped in with the coffee in hand. He could hear the water running from the adjoining bathroom. He noticed the cherry wood sleigh bed. The bedding was an assortment of brown hues ranging from a light tan to a rich brown that bordered on black. A lone picture on her nightstand caught his attention. He looked to the left and right before entering further. He sat the cup down, sat on the end of the bed and picked up the picture.

 

He recognized her in the middle. It appeared to be a picture of her parents with a man several inches taller than the rest of bunch, standing in the back. He heard the door to the bathroom open.

 

“Is this your family?” he asked, not looking her way.

 

“Yes, my parents and my older brother.” She walked to her closet, pulled out a duffel bag, and began loading her clothes inside.

 

“Do you have any other siblings?” He watched her move quickly about the room.

 

“No. It’s just the two of us. What about you?” She paused to grab some socks. She closed the drawer with her hip and placed the items in her bag.

 

Marc placed the picture back and leaned back onto the bed. He pulled his hands behind his head. With closed eyes he said, “I have a brother and a sister. I was with my brother the night we first met.”

 

Her bed was soft, and he would have imagined her sleeping in it if he wasn’t so tired. Concerned with getting to her, he’d slept less than an hour. He could hear her moving around the room, but did not bother to open his eyes. Marc planned to asked more about her family, but he soon drifted off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Camille watched as he slept silently on her bed. She had imagined him in her bed, but not like this. He had run to her rescue and now the dark knight was sound asleep. She took this time to look at him closely without inhibition. His face was handsome, with full eyebrows and eyelashes that rested on his high cheekbones. His nose was broad and his full mouth was surrounded by a goatee and mustache.

 

She allowed her eyes to travel over his body. She’d felt his muscular tone and now she could see that he took care of his body. As he lay on his back, his midriff appeared nearly hollow and his worn jeans hugged the contour of his well-formed, thick thighs.

 

The soft hum of his light snore abruptly stopped, she feared she had been caught. He ran his hands over his face before crossing them behind his head falling back asleep.

 

She did not want to wake him. What should she do?

 

She rested against her dresser watching his chest rise and fall. Camille, piqued with curiosity, decided to allow her eyes to travel lower. She’d felt his fullness pressed against her stomach earlier, but now she wondered if he was as big as her mind had concocted in their heated exchange. Her eyes ventured south, but the ringing of her cell phone interrupted her. She jumped and watched him to see if he would wake. He didn’t. She lightly jogged to the living room, needing to answer before it woke him.

 

She answered breathlessly.

 

“What are you doing? Am I disturbing you?”

 

“Mah…?” She shook her head and then answered, “No, ma’am. Is everything all right?”

 

“We’re fine. I called to check on you since we didn’t hear from you Sunday.”

 

Camille slapped her head with her hand. She was so caught up in the case that she forgot to call her parents. They did not agree with her going undercover, however they had reached a compromise years ago, which required the weekly phone call.

 

“I’m sorry, Mom, things have been abnormal here, I’m fine. How is…” Camille heard Marc call her name.

 

“Just a second, Mom.”

 

She removed the phone from her ear, attempted to cover the receiver with her hand and walked to the doorway. He was calling her, but he was still laying missionary style on the bed. She moved closer and he grabbed her hand, pulling her to him. With a flick of his index finger he beckoned her forward. She knelt, hanging inches from his beautiful ebony face. Her eyes focused on his lips as he propped himself up on his elbows. She was tired of fighting her growing feelings for him. What she meant to be a quick peck turned into a kissed that astounded them. She unintentionally ran her tongue over his bottom lip, dipping it into his mouth. His chesty growl stopped her from entering further.

 

“Baby, please don’t do that,” he said as if in agony.

 

“Do what?” she asked, forgetting that her stepmother was on the phone. She stepped back as he pouted like a child for cutting their session short.

 

He sat up on the bed. Marc stood and walked to her. She tried to move out of his way, but soon found her back against the wall.

 

“This…” He skillfully placed his mouth over hers. He sucked her lower lip into his mouth. She moaned and lifted her hands to cup his face, which resulted in the phone dropping with a hard thump on the floor.

 

“Oh, hell…my mom,” she whispered, her eyes still closed. Camille scrambled and picked up the phone.

 

“Mom, are you there?” He laughed at the stunned look on her face. She swatted at him. He pointed toward the bathroom. She nodded and watched as he retreated. He had a nice firm butt, too.

 

“Camille…are you there?” She could vaguely hear her mother through the fog settling over her senses. That man is entirely too sexy. She heard her mom call her full name.

 

“Mom, I’m sorry. What did you say?”

 

“What’s going on over there? Who’s there with you?” She did not lie to her mother, but how would she explain Marc?

 

“Hum…a friend.” That was good.

 

“A friend? Do I know this friend? It sounds like a man.” She didn’t miss a thing.

 

“It is, Mother.” She only used mother when agitated and she hoped she would get the hint.

 

“Mother, huh. All right, young lady, keep your secrets. Just be careful and don’t forget to call your parents from time to time.”

 

“Yes, ma’am. Actually, I’ll be in town tomorrow.” She could stop by and visit them while in Dallas.

 

“That’s great because your brother is in town, which is the other reason for my call.”

 

Camille talked with her mother for a few more minutes before they said their goodbyes. She disconnected the call and placed the cordless receiver on the docking station in the kitchen. She loved her family and found it difficult to separate herself from them for months at a time, especially her father. They had a wonderful relationship. The thought of him placed a gentle smile on her face.

 

“You look happy.”

 

She almost forgot about him. His deep brown eyes still held an edge of restlessness, but it only added to his charm. She wondered what type of man he was in a relationship. Was he commitment phobic? Did he believe in love? Did he believe in marriage?

 

He stood a few feet away and as her mind wandered. Marc took his time moving his eyes across her body. She felt the intense heat of his presence. Lord help me, she thought as he moved towards her. The look in his eyes turned from adoration to raw need. She braced her hands on the countertop, watching as he rounded the corner and stood behind her. She stood frozen in place. The sound of their synchronized breathing could be heard throughout her condo. She inhaled and jumped a little when he placed his hands on her shoulders.

 

Camille wondered what he was thinking and what they’d do next. He took another step and his groin met the roundness of her backside. They both exhaled in sync. Marc moved his hands from her shoulders and circled them round her body. He lowered his head and placed a single kiss in the tender area where her neck curved into her shoulder.

 

She released a slight moan as he continued a trail of delicious kisses along her neck. Marc opened the collar of her shirt wider, giving him more access to her bare skin. His soft kisses became pinching nibbles that caused a sensation to travel the length of her body and settled into a throbbing tingle between her legs.

 

Marc turned Camille to him and securely wrapped his arms around her. She could not recall the last time she felt so secure. He stopped kissing her, but she could feel his hands roaming her lower back and then dipping inches to caress her bottom. She arched her back, bringing her breasts closer to his chest and her bottom securely into his hands. He rewarded her need with a soft squeeze. Was he deliberately trying to torture her?

 

Tired of waiting, Camille placed one hand behind his head. A mere breath away, she licked her lips before aggressively placing her mouth on his. He moaned, encouraging her.

 

She was not usually so aggressive, but he made her feel something raw and carnal. Cupping her bottom, they merged. The contour of his firm body enveloped into the softness of her feminine form.

 

Camille was lost in him. Marc released her mouth and traced the tip of his nose along her neck, placing a moist kiss against her rapid pulse. Journeying south, he toyed with her breast through her blouse, teasing and nibbling. Camille pulled her lower lip between her teeth as her nipples peaked, welcoming his focused attention.

 

Marc sat Camille on the counter. He looked deep into her eyes as if requesting permission as his hands reached for the hem of her shirt. He removed her shirt and pulled her to him as her legs straddled his body. The full blaze between her legs became crippling when he allowed his left hand to massage her inner thigh.

 

His thumb moved slightly to the right and began massaging the cause of her angst. Camille’s head fell back and Marc moved into full assault of her bodily senses while rubbing her with constant pressure while skillfully inching the lace of her bra to the side giving him unobstructed access to her bare breasts.

 

The feel of his mouth on her breast was her undoing as she felt the edge drawing near.

 

“Baby, let it go,” he said, between his teeth.

 

“Marc…” she responded cupping the back of his head.

 

“Mmmm…” He increased the pressure of his suckling on her breast. His thumb continued to massage her and Camille knew that if she did not experience release soon she would explode.

 

“Marc…” she said in a distant, breathy plea.

 

“I’m here, baby.”

 

Flickers of multi-color stars flashed before Camille’s closed eyes. Her head fell back as her body burst into a million pieces.

 

Marc stood to his full height and held her close. He rested his chin on the top of her head as they struggle to slow their racing hearts.

 

What had they done?

 

She held his shirt in her clinched fists. She was speechless. Camille wondered what he was thinking. She let the rise and fall of his chest calm her, turning her head as she listened to the drum-like rhythm of his heartbeat.

 

Marc kissed the top of her head below her hairline. He whispered, “I’m sorry, baby. I lost it.”

 

Sorry? Camille sat up and saw that his eyes were closed. She placed her hands on his cheeks and moved his face close to her. She all but forced him to look at her. She did not like what she saw. Was it regret?

 

The words she wanted to say lodged in her throat. Camille felt the burn of impending tears. She wanted to put him out of his misery. The phone rang, startling them both before she could speak.

 

He picked up the phone and looked at the caller id. “It’s Derek.”

 

“Hello,” he answered the phone, while she tried to halt her runaway feeling. The more she waited, the more questions assaulted her senses. She pulled herself from her isolated thoughts to hear him talking with Derek. His expression sifted as he took several steps back, leaving her perched on the counter. He retraced his steps and paced the length of her living room.

 

Camille hopped down from the counter righting her clothes. She joined him in the living room and sat on the couch. She could only hear his side of the conversation. He gave a yes, a couple of no’s and several uh, uhs. The hard expression on his face worried her. Marc passed her his phone.

 

“Hey, Derek, what’s going on?” she greeted him.

 

Marc quickly exited the room and walked towards her bedroom. Where was he going?

 

“Camille, things are worse than I expected,” he said. “We received the results from the Houston Police Department. Harold was poisoned. They are still waiting on the identity of the drug, but it resulted in him dying in his sleep. They searched the house for fingerprints but they only found those of his hired keepers, Saul, and Ashanta. The detectives did not find anything out of order, which does not help.”

 

“Okay, there has to be more.”

 

Camille sat back on the couch. She noticed Marc enter the living room. He must have gone to get his shoes because he looked like he was ready to leave. Her feelings were crushed.

 

“You’re right. I expect they will know more once the identity of the drug is determined. What escalates the situation is when the officers went to question Ashanta.”

 

That got her attention.

 

“What, Derek, what happened?” Camille tightened her hold on the phone. Marc appeared from nowhere and sat next to her. 

 

“Breath, baby,” he whispered close to her ear, rubbing her back. She nodded, as a somber vibe fell over her.

 

“Camille, they found her dead in her condo. Apparently, she was killed by the assailants who broke into her home. The police didn’t find any prints and they don’t believe it was a forced entry.”

 

Silent tears trailed down Camille’s face. Marc wrapped his arm around her. She let him comfort her as she listened to Derek. She knew something was not right.

 

“Where is her body?” she asked, thankful for Marc’s presence.

 

“They took her to a morgue and she will be shipped home, however, Camille, you are prohibited from going to see the body. I know you are concerned and so am I, but I am charged with your safety. Exposing yourself could ruin your case and make you a walking target if someone learns that you’re an agent. This is the second dead body on your watch and it is cause for concern.”

 

Ashanta was dead.

 

 “Camille,” Derek paused, “I think it’s time to cut our losses and pull you from the case.”

 

Camille tightened. Marc felt the tension, and whispered “What is it?” She lifted her hand to silence him.

 

“No, Derek, I’ve put two years of my time and career into this case. And now you tell me that my friend is dead. I want the murderer found.” Camille’s concern was quickly becoming anger.

 

“Camille, don’t take this personal. I know you and Ashanta formed a friendship, but this is still your job. I will not risk your life. This is not why you were placed on this case.”

 

“Do you doubt my abilities as an agent, Derek?” Camille asked with one brow lifted. She stood and began walking the length of the room. Marc did not move from the couch, instead, he sat back and watched her every move.

 

“Camille, this is not time for your ‘I am woman hear me roar’ speech. I will not risk your life.” He emphasized every syllable. Camille did not care. She would not let him pull her from this case, especially with Ashanta’s death.

 

“No, Derek, I can handle this. I am so close. We have the information from Ashanta and we’re on our way to Dallas later today.” She took a few minutes to tell him about the contents of the letter and package.

 

“All right, is Marc still with you?”

 

Her eyes flashed to Marc. “Yes, he is.”

 

“I am going to trust your judgment, but Camille,” he paused, “we cannot have a repeat situation like your case with Ron.”

 

Camille paused and looked Marc's way. “Derek, why would you say that? You asked him to help. It was not me, but you who asked me to fill him in.”

 

She knew he would bring Ron up and smack her in the face with it. Her break-up with him was messy and it happened during a major case. She was almost fired and she resented Ron for his betrayal and Derek for constantly reminding her that a double standard existed.

 

Camille stopped pacing, feeling the pull of Marc's eyes. He heard his name, and judging by the look on his face, he didn't like her response. She now knew that their possible future would not happen. It was bad timing and she was not signing up for heartbreak. She ached, feeling a sense of loss for something she never really had.

 

“Don't make me regret this. Let me speak with Marc.”

 

Camille passed the phone to Marc. She watched as he nodded his head. He gave a few affirmative responses and passed the phone back to Camille. She searched his face for any indication as to the content of their discussion, but found nothing.

 

“Camille, take Marc with you. I will fly into Dallas and meet you.”

 

“Derek, that’s not necessary. I can make the trip alone,” she whispered into the phone. She turned her back to Marc and walked into her bedroom.

 

“That was not a request, Camille.”

 

She looked over her shoulder to see Marc standing in the doorway. His mouth was firm and his arms were crossed over his chest. Camille knew that he had heard her by the look in his eyes, but she meant it. She would not drag another person into this case. Derek was right about the danger. They could not take that chance.

 

“Derek…”

 

Derek cut her protest short. “Goodbye, Camille, I’ll see you in Dallas.”

 

He disconnected the line and she was left with Marc. She pressed the “End” button. She stared at the phone before walking toward him. She tried to move past him, but failed as he shifted to block her way.

 

She stepped back and waited.

 

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” he asked in a growl and lowered his head. She could literally feel him getting under her skin, and she didn’t like it. All she could hear was his words of regret.

 

Camille would take him, according to Derek’s orders, but she didn’t have to like it. Pushing her hurt feelings aside, she squared her gaze, “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Now, please let me by.”

 

Camille walked toward Marc again. The mini standoff ensued. She could feel the heat from his body and she hated her body for physically reacting to his nearness. She could feel her nipples tighten against her bra and the low hum between her legs returned. Traitor, she thought.

 

She noticed Marc looking at her breasts. Camille knew he could see her erect nipples through her blouse. Their eyes met and he smiled stepping aside leaving just enough room to let her pass. She turned sideways, yet her breasts skimmed his chest.

 

She hated that smug look on his face. How would she survive riding five hours alone with him? Camille snapped out of his spell to stomp off toward the kitchen, leaving him standing in her doorway, laughing at her expense.