"Dammit, quit running from me," he growled furiously. "From us."
Her chin jutted out mutinously, but her gray eyes were wider than normal. "I'm not running from anything," she shot back.
"That's bullshit, and we both know it." He hoped like hell she was able to handle the honesty he was about to dish out in abundance. "You've spent your adult life avoiding intimacy with a man, especially when you start feeling threatened emotionally, and that's exactly where you are with me. I threaten you emotionally, and that scares the crap out of you. You don't want to deal with those feelings, and so it's easier for you to cut loose and run than risk being hurt. The same kind of hurt and pain you've lived with since your mother's death."
She rolled her eyes at him in an attempt to dismiss his words, no matter how true they were. "There you go again, sugar," she drawled. "Psychoanalyzing me."
"It's what I do best." And there was a helluva lot more where that came from. "I know just how vulnerable you are, even though you want everyone to believe you're tough and strong and don't need anyone at all," he went on ruthlessly. "I know you hate the way your brothers and cousins smother and protect you, even though you know they do it because they love and care about you. I know how badly you crave your family's approval, of who you are and what you do. And I know just how talented you are and how those erotic pictures you create in your stained-glass designs are all a part of the sensual woman you are, inside and out. A woman with a romantic soul who is searching for an unconditional kind of love and acceptance."
She drew a trembling breath, and her eyes shone with telltale moisture. "You have no idea what you're talking about," she whispered hoarsely, desperation evident in her tone.
He pressed two fingers to her soft, damp lips to keep her quiet. Lips he ached to kiss in the worst way. "Oh, I know exactly what I'm talking about, and I'm not done yet," he said, locking his gaze with hers. "I agree that our affair started out as all about sex and getting you out of my system after wanting you for two years. And what we shared sexually has been hotter and more erotic than anything I've ever had with another woman."
He let his hand fall away. "But I'm a man who sees more than just what's on the outside, and over the past few weeks I've discovered a side to you I don't think any other man has ever taken the time to learn or know. And for you to let me in so intimately, you have to feel something for me, too."
She closed her eyes and tried to turn her face away, but he gently touched her jaw and waited until she was looking at him again. But this time, when her lashes fluttered back open, there were tears in her eyes. And a wealth of feeling. Her entire body trembled with the emotion she was trying so hard to suppress, and he suspected that was a very instinctual reaction for her.
"You can hide behind your erotic stained-glass art and your wild and outrageous personality, but I know who you really are, Mia," he said softly. "Deep inside where it counts. In your heart. In your beautiful, lost soul. And that's the woman I fell for. The woman no one else knows as well as I do."
She blinked, and a big, fat tear fell down her cheek. "God, how can you want a woman with so many hang-ups and issues?"
"Because I love you," he said simply.
A panicked sob caught in her throat, and she shook her head in denial. "You can't!"
"I can, and I do. It certainly wasn't something I'd planned on, but it happened. I want to love you, Mia, like you've never been loved before." He gently wiped away yet another tear with the pad of his thumb. "You trusted me with your body, and I gave you nothing but pleasure. You trusted me with your past and secrets, now trust me with your heart, and I swear I'll keep it safe from the kind of hurt and pain you're so afraid of."
"You can't make those kinds of promises, Cameron. No one can. I know you believe in this moment you can give me those things, that the two of us can make it work, but I can't handle a broken heart if it doesn't. I know what that feels like, and the emotional pain of losing someone is something I can't bear to go through ever again."
He knew she was referring to her mother's death, which had scarred her deeply and affected so many relationships throughout her life. Men, definitely, but shutting people out of her heart had all started with her stepmother, Amelia. And that was a situation Cameron couldn't repair for Mia, even though he suspected that scarred relationship was the crux of most of her emotional issues.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
Cameron understood that she was frightened of what she was feeling for him, but he'd hoped that during the course of their conversation today she'd face those fears and take a chance on something genuine and real. Him. Them. Together.
He'd been sorely mistaken. Her rejection felt like a knife through his heart.
Admitting defeat, he pushed away from Mia, letting her go. There was nothing left for him to do. Nothing left for him to say. She'd made it very clear that it was over, and he wasn't going to beg and plead.
"Come on," he said with a heavy sigh. "I'll take you home."
Chapter Seventeen
CAMERON skimmed through the rap sheet on Ray Wilkins, a.k.a. Billy Dearborn, that Wesley had just handed to him, not at all surprised to discover that the man had a list of transgressions attached to his real name. The guy had a criminal record that spanned everything from physical to sexual assault, varying degrees of theft, vandalism, drug use, carrying a concealed weapon, and even a few felony violations he'd done prison time for.
"Jesus," Cameron said in disgust and was damn grateful Gina had finally come to her senses and ended her relationship with the guy. Not to mention issuing a restraining order against him. Dearborn was a hot-headed, dangerous criminal without a conscience, and it looked as though Gina needed whatever protection she could get against him.
Jaw clenched, Cameron glanced back up at Wesley, who was standing on the other side of his desk. "How in the hell did you finally nail this guy?"
"Billy Dearborn changed his name, but not his Social Security number or birth date," Wes replied wryly. "As soon as I started tracing his Social Security number through public records, one thing led to another until I tracked him down to the last place he'd lived before moving to Chicago, and that was Florida."
Cameron shuffled through the other paperwork and printouts Wesley had given him. "Do you know what sent him packing?"
"Actually, I do, and I came across more than one reason why he left the state. I have a few P.I. contacts in Florida I've kept in touch with from the last firm I worked for, and I put a call in to someone I know and trust." Wesley's lips flattened into a grim line. "It appears that Billy Dearborn was involved in a drug-smuggling ring, and about six months ago he pocketed a cool twenty grand that belonged to the organization he was working for. They found out about the theft, beat the crap out of Billy, and gave him a week to pay back the money, but Billy changed his identity and moved here to Chicago."
"They didn't try very hard to find him," Cameron muttered irritably, wishing they'd tracked down Dearborn before he'd hooked up with Gina.
"Unfortunately, I'm sure they have bigger fish to fry in their line of business," Wesley told him. "Billy was small shrimp in comparison, though I'm betting if they knew where he was they wouldn't hesitate to try and get their money back from him any way they could. Even in blood."
That thought gave Cameron a semblance of satisfaction.
"But that's not all," Wesley said. "This guy has a warrant out for his arrest for sexually assaulting a woman."