Too Wilde to Tame

Chapter Eighteen

MIA had known since the night of the gallery show that she and Amelia needed to talk, and it was a conversation long time in coming. She chose Sunday morning to pay a visit to Amelia, because she knew her father would be out fishing with his buddies and her stepmother would be home alone.

Mia pulled up to the house she'd grown up in and found Amelia out front on her knees as she planted new flowers along the walkway. Gardening was Amelia's passion, and Mia experienced a pang of regret for all the times her stepmother had tried to share her love of plants and flowers with Mia, only to have Mia rebuff her attempts.

Releasing a breath to ease her anxiety, Mia slid from the car and made her way toward Amelia, wondering if her stepmother would ever forgive her for being so self-centered and such a spoiled brat as a child. For rejecting the love and affection Amelia had tried so hard to offer her, until finally her stepmother stopped making the effort.

The clicking of her sandals on the walkway alerted her stepmother of Mia's presence, and Amelia glanced up at her in startled surprise. She was wearing a wide-brimmed hat to shield her face from the sun, but the warmth Mia saw in her stepmother's eyes was from a different source entirely. It came directly from Amelia's generous heart, and this time Mia basked in that warmth and kindness like one of the flowers Amelia was planting.

Amelia smiled up at her. "Hi, Mia. Your father isn't home," she said automatically.

"I know." Mia shifted on her feet and swiped her palms down the sides of her jean skirt. "I stopped by to talk to you."

"Oh." That announcement took Amelia off guard, and she stood, tugging off her gardening gloves. "In that case, let's go inside. I could use a cool drink, and I just made some fresh lemonade this morning."

Mia followed Amelia into the kitchen, and when she tried to help with the drinks, Amelia gently shooed her away. So Mia sat down at the table, and a few minutes later Amelia set a glass of lemonade in front of her, along with an empty plate and a big basket of fresh baked muffins.

Mia picked one of her favorites from the abundance of baked goods-a French apple streusel muffin-and smiled at Amelia. There were enough muffins in the basket to feed a small army. "Were you expecting company?" she asked, a teasing inflection in her voice.

"Actually, no." Amelia laughed and selected a blueberry muffin for herself. "Sometimes I forget that it's just your father and I. I prepared such large meals for so many years to feed all you kids, the boys especially, and sometimes I slip back into old habits."

Mia sliced open her muffin and slathered butter on one side. "You took very good care of us, you know that, don't you?"

"I certainly tried." Amelia tipped her head toward Mia, her expression curious. "Where did that comment come from?"

"My heart," Mia said without hesitation, and because it was the truth. "I came by today because there's a whole lot of things I need to share with you. Things I should have said and done years ago."

Worry replaced Amelia's initial speculation. "Is everything okay?"

"I'm hoping it will be, after today." Mia took a bite of her muffin, taking the moment to gather her thoughts. "First, I want to apologize for the way I've treated you, and for not letting you be a part of my life."

"Mia," Amelia began softly, and Mia was certain her stepmother was about to smooth things over and tell her it was okay.

But her past behavior wasn't okay, and Mia held up a hand to stop Amelia from speaking. "I need to tell you this."

Amelia sat back in her chair, her gaze reflecting a deep understanding. "Okay."

Mia pushed her half-eaten muffin aside, her appetite gone for the moment. "When my real mother died I was only five, and because my father waited a month to tell me she'd passed away, and I didn't go to the funeral, I honestly believed my real mother was going to come back home someday. Then a few years later he married you, and I was in such denial I didn't want to accept you as my new mother. I resented your presence and what you stood for, and I rebelled and took it out on you. I'd lost my mother, and in my mind I felt as though I'd lost my father now, too."

Reaching across the table, Amelia placed her hand over Mia's. "Oh, honey, I never meant to make you feel that way."

"The thing is, you never did. It was all me." Accepting the blame that was her burden to bear, Mia curled her fingers over Amelia's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Then, as the years passed and I realized you weren't the wicked stepmother I'd imagined you to be, by then I was so certain you wouldn't love me because I'd been such an awful, disruptive child. I certainly didn't give you any reason to love me."

Mia's voice cracked with emotion, and she exhaled a trembling breath before continuing. "So it became easier and safer for me to keep my distance from you emotionally, than risking the kind of hurt and pain I'd gone through when I lost my mother. That was something I never wanted to experience again."

Amelia waved her hand between them. "First of all, I've always loved you and your brothers as if you all were my own. Even when you were an awful, disruptive child," she said with a gentle, maternal grin. Then she grew serious. "Your father and I decided not to have any children together because I was perfectly content with the four of you. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss not having a close mother-daughter type of relationship with you. Then again, I never wanted you to think I was trying to take your mother's place, so I took my cues from you."

And they'd been angry, selfish cues, Mia knew. "We've both missed out on so much. Is it too late to ask for your forgiveness, with the hope that maybe we can start out fresh and new from this point on?" This time, there were no fears or insecurities about opening herself up emotionally to Amelia. Mia was coming to realize that without risk, there was no gain.

"I'd like that very much." Moisture dampened Amelia's eyes-tears based in pure joy. She leaned toward Mia and wrapped her in a warm, tight hug. "All I ever wanted was for you to be happy, Mia."

Closing her eyes, Mia absorbed Amelia's embrace. Such a simple gesture that meant so much. Finally, they pulled apart and a smile played at the corners of Mia's mouth when she thought of how far she'd come in the past few weeks-and where she was headed. The confidence she felt was amazing and exhilarating. So was the inner peace filling her as a result of her visit with Amelia today.

"For the first time in my life, I'm very happy," Mia said and knew she meant every word.

Amelia's soft brown gaze searched Mia's expression. "Does it have anything to do with Cameron?"

Unsure where Amelia's question had stemmed from, Mia treaded cautiously, not quiet sure what she willing to reveal just yet. "What makes you ask that?"

"The night of the gallery show Joel made mention that he hoped things worked out between the two of you," Amelia said as she folded her arms on the table.

Mia was shocked to learn that Joel knew about her relationship with Cameron. She was even more stunned that her sometimes-overbearing brother hadn't said anything directly to her about it. Maybe, hopefully, her brothers were learning that she needed to stand on her own two feet and no longer needed them to shelter and protect her.

"I have to say, I agree with Joel," Amelia went on. "Cameron is a good man, and I could see by the way he watched you from afar that night that he cares for you very much."

Actually, Cameron loved her, Mia thought, reveling in the knowledge that such an incredible man wanted her. And there was no doubt in Mia's mind that she loved him as well. It had just taken her a little bit longer to embrace the emotion, to believe in it, to know it was lasting and true.

"Well, I'm finally in the right place, mentally and emotionally, to give my all to a relationship with Cameron," Mia said, thinking just how far she'd come in just a few short weeks. "There were some things I needed to take care of and do on my own first." Like going public with her stained-glass art and mending her relationship with Amelia. "And now, I'm ready to be the kind of woman Cameron needs in his life."

"So what are you waiting for?" Amelia encouraged her, as only a mother could do. "Go and tell him how you feel."

Mia planned to. Because she'd learned just how precious an emotion like love was, and she wouldn't take it, or Cameron, for granted ever again.

THE last person Cameron expected to find when he opened his front door was Mia. But there she was, looking like she'd just stepped from the dreams that consumed him on a nightly basis. Dreams of Mia, and what could have been.

She looked like a vision with her silky black hair tousled around her beautiful face and her soft gray eyes staring at him expectantly. Hopefully. She didn't try to hide the emotions in her gaze, the open vulnerability. But he also saw something else in her anxious expression. Real and candid feelings he dared to believe were meant for him.

A tremulous smile eased up the corners of her mouth. "Can I come in?"

He shook his head to clear it. To be sure she wasn't some kind of apparition. When she didn't disappear, he stepped back to let her enter. "Uh, yeah, sure."

He led the way into the living room and then turned to face her. "So what brings you by?"

"This, for starters." She stepped toward him and held out a long, flat package wrapped in dark blue paper. "It's for you."

If a part of him had been secretly hoping for an undying declaration of love, he'd been sorely mistaken. He glanced from the gift back up to Mia's face. She was biting her bottom lip, looking so endearing and tempting he ached to slide his fingers into her hair, pull her sweet mouth to his, and kiss her senseless.

He reined in the urge, because he'd yet to figure out her motives for visiting and the present she'd brought with her. Was it a parting gift or a token of her affection? "I don't remember it being my birthday."

"It doesn't need to be," she said and pushed it into his hands so he was forced to take the package from her. "Not for this. Open it, and you'll see."

His curiosity was definitely peaked. Sitting down on the couch, he tore the paper off the box and then lifted the lid. Because of the size of the package he had a good idea of what might be inside, and as he peeled back layers of tissue paper he discovered his assumption was correct. She'd given him one of her stained-glass designs. It was a piece he hadn't seen at her gallery show.

At first glance, he saw a striking, abstract pattern, one that was complex and intense, with vivid, brilliant colors that seemed to shimmer and glow with a life of its own. But it didn't take him long to see beyond that initial design, to the erotic image of a man and woman in a sensual, carnal embrace. The passion and emotion between the couple was nearly tangible, more so than he'd ever seen in any of her other stained-glass designs.

"I sketched that design after our first night together," she told him.

Which explained the chemistry and sexual tension radiating from the couple. While he understood that the man and woman in the picture represented the two of them, Cameron still had no idea why she'd given it to him. So he took a guess. "What is this? A souvenir of our time together?"

She was standing a few feet away, and she shifted on her sandaled feet, suddenly looking nervous and uncertain. "No, that picture is how I see our future. You and me, together."

His heart started pounding in his chest, but he wasn't about to assume anything. "You want an affair?"

She laughed lightly and shook her head. "I was thinking more along the lines of a real relationship. Going on real dates. No sneaking around my family or yours. Hand-holding in public."

Oh, he definitely liked the way that sounded, but her enthusiasm and turnaround seemed almost too good to be true. Especially after how they'd parted ways.

"Why?" he asked, needing to hear solid, concrete reasons. "What changed your mind? It's not like all those issues you brought up have gone away."

"No, they haven't gone away," she agreed. "And chances are it will take me some time to work through some of those issues. But as to what changed my mind? The answer is simple. I trust you, and more importantly, I love you, Cameron Sinclair. And I know you'll be there for me whenever I need you, to help me through those insecurities and fears that will creep up from time to time."

Cameron sucked in a sharp breath as the words I love you reverberated in his head. Mia loved him. He was afraid to speak for fear he'd shatter this incredible moment.

"But there's so much more I need to tell you," she said and paced across the living room as if to walk off some restless energy. "One of my biggest concerns, as you know, is that the differences between us will eventually drive us apart. You tried to reassure me, but at the time I wasn't willing to listen. I had this huge emotional barrier up where you were concerned because I honestly didn't believe that you could want a woman like me. Not for a lifetime."

"A woman like you?" he asked, interested in hearing how she viewed herself.

"Brazen. Reckless. Unpredictable." She smiled sheepishly. "Every one of those traits go against the upstanding, ethical kind of guy you are. And I always swore to myself that I wouldn't change for anyone."

Standing, he crossed the room to her, so close, but not as close as he wanted to be. "I'll admit you can drive me crazy with your wild antics sometimes, but I don't want to change anything about you, Mia. All I want is for you to let me love you."

"I know." Her gaze softened with adoration. "But I have changed, hopefully for the best. Walking away from you was one of the most painful things I've ever done, but it was necessary, because it made me sit back and re-evaluate what's important to me and forced me to analyze my life. My past. Where I am today and what I want in my future. And with those realizations I've embraced my erotic stained-glass art as a part of who and what I am. I've made amends with Amelia, and I gave my brother Scott my two weeks notice at work so I can devote all my time to my stained-glass art."

Cameron was so proud of her. In just the past month she'd grown so much. Matured. Evolved in so many ways. All on her own.

He finally touched her, skimming his thumb along the silky soft line of her jaw, and saw his future in her eyes. "You are so amazing."

She gave him a cheeky grin. "You're not too bad yourself, sugar." She placed a hand on his chest, right over his rapidly beating heart. A heart that loved her unconditionally.

She tipped her head thoughtfully. "You know, I owe Carrie a big thanks. Because if it wasn't for those photographs she sent to me, I never would have come to you for help, and we'd probably still be provoking one another with smart-ass comments and skirting our attraction."

He couldn't contain a deep chuckle, but her words held a wealth of truth. "You're probably right."

"And those picture also made me realize that I don't want to be that attention-seeking woman any longer, not out in public, and not when I have you." Her features took on a serious cast. "But despite all my changes, I haven't turned into this neat little package you can peg, and I'm certain I never will be. I'm just not the sweet and docile type."

He smoothed a finger over her furrowed brow. "And I don't expect you to be, Mia."

That stubborn chin of hers lifted high. "That's good, because I know there will be times when I do things without thinking, and I'm sure I'll test your patience a time or two."

He groaned, knowing this woman would keep him on his toes and his life exciting. "You really are too wild to tame, aren't you?" he said, thinking back to the T-shirt she'd worn at The Electric Blue that first night.

"Come on, admit it," she murmured seductively and slid her arms around his neck. "You like that wild and daring side to me. And you like the fact that you've become more adventurous, too." She poised her mouth inches below his, tempting and teasing him with the promise of a kiss.

"I'll give you adventurous," he growled playfully. Done talking, he smoothed his hands beneath her skirt, cupped her bottom in his large palms, and lifted her against his body.

Her feet came off the floor, and she squealed and wrapped her legs around his waist to hold on while he made his way down the hall to the bedroom. There, he tossed her onto the mattress, and she laughed and came up on her elbows, watching as he quickly stripped off all his clothes. Then he grabbed her ankle and pulled her all the way down to the bottom of the bed where he proceeded to get her naked as fast as possible, too.

By the time he was done she was breathing hard, her breasts firm and full and her nipples tight. Her smoky gray eyes, filled with heat and desire, begged him to have his way with her. Her legs were splayed, and her sex glistened, beckoning to him in the sweetest kind of way.

He didn't waste time with foreplay. None was necessary, not when they were both so eager for a fast, hot, hard joining. Still standing at the foot of the bed, he lifted her legs so her ankles came to rest on his shoulders in a very erotic position that gave him complete control.

Her body accepted his deep driving thrust and the rhythmic pumping of his hips. She moaned and arched against him, taking him deeper, needing more. Flattening his hand on her stomach, he slowly drew it downward, until his thumb slipped between petal-soft folds of flesh and he was right where she needed his touch to be. He stroked her intimately, building the tension within her, and when she gave herself over to him in hot, liquid release and cried out his name, he sank into her one last time, let go, and came in a rush of intoxicating sensation.

He groaned like a dying man… and that's exactly what he felt like. As though he'd died and gone to the sweetest kind of heaven and ended up with an angel in his arms.

Once they both recovered, they scooted up on the bed and she automatically cuddled up to his side. He turned toward her, tipped her chin up, and kissed her-nice and slow and deep. He ran his hands slowly up and down the length of her body, loving the feel of her bare skin beneath his fingers. Loving everything about her.

"God, I missed you," he said after long, sensual minutes had passed.

She looked up at him, her eyes bright and vibrant. "I missed you, too. Badly." Her hand wandered down his chest, and that easily, that quickly, he felt his body stir again.

"You know, I'm afraid if we continue on like this your brothers are going to come after me with a shotgun," he teased and squeezed her bottom.

"So you'll be forced to make an honorable woman out of me?" She rolled her eyes, though it did sound like something her brothers would do. "No one is going to force you to marry me. It's the twenty-first century. Living in sin is pretty much acceptable these days."

He wondered if living in sin was preferable to her, and knew he wanted, needed, more than that. "So what would it take to convince you to marry me?"

Her eyes widened in startled surprise, which was quickly replaced with uncertainty. "A proposal?" she said cautiously, as if he'd just asked her a trick question. As if she couldn't believe he'd want to make her his wife.

Rolling to his side, he lifted up on his arm and stared down at her. A proposal was something he could easily handle. "Mia Wilde, I love you. Will you marry me? Will you be my lover, my best friend, my wife, and the mother of our children?"

Tears gathered in her eyes, tears of disbelief and joy and wonder. "Oh, wow," she breathed.

She was making him wait. Killing him with her silence.

Then she smiled, and he'd never seen her look so beautiful. So confident. So utterly unafraid. "Yes," she whispered. "Yes, I'll marry you."

"Thank God," he said in relief because he didn't want to have to go another day without her in it.

He kissed her again, and this time she pushed him onto his back and took charge. As she set out to seduce him, Cameron knew without a doubt that life with this particular Wilde woman would never be boring.

And he wouldn't want it any other way.