Too Wilde to Tame

Chapter One

CAMERON Sinclair took a long, satisfying pull on his ice-cold bottle of beer as he surveyed the newest hot spot to open in downtown Chicago. The Electric Blue was definitely the happening place, and Cam could easily see why. It wasn't your normal laid-back bar atmosphere, but rather the place combined the frenzied excitement of a nightclub with all the shocking yet riveting antics worthy of a roadhouse saloon-where customers were having Screaming Orgasms, demanding Blow Jobs, and enjoying Slippery Nipples. The drinks, that is, he thought in amusement.

The place certainly didn't lack for entertainment. And as a people-watcher by profession, Cam was definitely stimulated and intrigued by the ambiance, the customers, and the decor. A huge oak bar with shiny brass trim covered the length of one long wall. Behind it, three bartenders were filling the constant barrage of drink orders while juggling bottles of liquor in the air and grooving to the beat of the rock 'n' roll music the DJ was playing.

Cameron was sitting on a barstool up on a higher level across the room, which overlooked the main bar area and afforded him, and his good friend Rick, the best view in the house. In front of where they were sitting extended a thick, sturdy, two-foot-wide platform with floor-to-ceiling brass poles on either end, which, according to Rick, the waiters and waitresses used as their own personal dance floor to rile up the crowd whenever one of the bartenders rang a loud, obnoxious cowbell every half hour.

The dance floor, also on the same higher level, was fully packed with gyrating bodies and scantily clad women, and a banner across the back wall proclaimed tonight "Wet T-shirt Night." That was the main reason why Rick had coaxed him into joining him for a beer at The Electric Blue. His friend believed Cameron was spending way too much time at work and not enough time having fun and enjoying the opposite sex.

Okay, so it had been a while since Cameron had been out with a woman on a casual, no-strings basis. Longer still since he'd been in a committed relationship. His heavy caseload and erratic hours as a P.I. were mainly responsible for his lack of female companionship, and after the busy week he'd had at work, Cameron decided what he needed was exactly what Rick had suggested. A fun, entertaining evening-and The Electric Blue promised to deliver all that, and more.

Cameron took another drink of his beer, feeling his body unwind and his mind open to the possibilities of what the night might hold.

"Well, well, well," a familiar, sultry female voice drawled from behind him, followed by the sensual trail of fingertips along his shoulders as she came to stand in front of him. "What's a nice, straight-laced guy like you doing in a place like this?"

Cam recognized the soft, taunting voice before he saw the face that went with it, and every muscle in his body grew taut with immediate awareness.

Mia Wilde-an infuriatingly smart-mouthed woman who had the ability to frustrate the hell out of him with her bold and brash ways, as well as tempt him beyond reason with her innate sensuality. Despite all the reasons why this certain female was all wrong for him-and there were many-she was the main reason why no other woman had appealed to him in a very long time.

Maintaining a bland expression, Cam slowly, leisurely glanced up the length of her figure, taking in her sexy bare legs and smooth, supple-looking thighs that never failed to make him entertain sinful, erotic thoughts. Her curvaceous hip was cocked sassily to the side, and she was wearing a short leopard print mini-skirt that was barely street legal, along with a tight black top with "Too Wild to Tame" emblazoned in sparkling rhinestones across her ample chest.

He almost laughed out loud. The flashy slogan was very appropriate, not because of the similarity to Mia's last name but because this particular woman was unpredictable, headstrong, and aggressive enough to make any sane man dismiss the notion of ever trying to subdue that assertive nature of hers.

Him included. He liked his women modest, manageable, and undemanding. And Mia was anything but those things. She was a woman who didn't know the meaning of demure and refused to conform to anyone's rules but her own. She liked being in control and was used to getting her way, especially when it came to men. One come-hither smile, one crook of her finger, and the male gender turned into whipped little puppies who were eager to please while hoping for more of her attention.

And Cam knew, beyond that sexy, confident facade Mia presented in front of him, deep inside it irked the hell out of her that he was immune to her sensual charms. Or at least that's what he'd spent the past two years pretending. No way would he ever give her the satisfaction, or the leverage, of knowing she affected him on a sexual level-and that only made her all the more determined to prove that he did have the hots for her.

It was an ongoing battle between them, a push-pull kind of magnetism that always generated a whole lot of heat and lust whenever their paths happen to cross. Which was much too often lately for his peace of mind and sanity.

Finally, his lazy gaze reached her face, and he had to admit it was one of great beauty. Silky, tousled shoulder-length black hair framed her exquisite features and added to her exotic look. Her complexion was smooth and creamy, and she possessed the kind of lush, Angelina Jolie mouth that inspired all kinds of provocative, X-rated fantasies. Those full lips were painted a soft, shimmering peach hue, and when he reached her gaze, her smoky silver eyes glimmered impudently, prompting him to remember the question she'd just asked, along with the fact that she'd pretty much accused him of being stuffy and boring.

No big surprise there.

He leaned back in his seat and regarded her with mild interest. "So what, exactly, do you consider this place?"

"Hip. Fun. Trendy." She took a sip of her drink, which looked like a frothy pina colada, and then her glossy lips curled up in one of those slow, cheeky smiles of hers. "You know, the exact opposite of your uptight personality," she said as she glided a finger along the collar of his knit shirt and down the buttoned V neck.

Beside him, Rick chuckled at her reply, and Cam shot his friend a withering glare. "Don't encourage her," he muttered.

As soon as Cameron addressed his friend, Mia turned her gaze toward Rick, curiosity lighting up her eyes. "Who's your friend, sugar?"

Rick, as much of a bachelor as Cameron was, looked eager to make Mia's acquaintance. Too eager, Cam thought in annoyance, but made the introduction anyway. "This is Mia Wilde. Mia, this is a friend of mine, Rick."

Rick's brows rose in surprise. "Any relation to your business partner?" he asked Cameron, obviously recognizing her last name.

"Yes, I'm Steve Wilde's cousin," she said before Cameron had the chance to explain. Completely ignoring Cam, she extended her slender hand toward Rick, who didn't refuse the opportunity to touch her. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

She poured on the flirtatious charm, and that easily she ensnared herself yet another besotted admirer. Rick grinned at her, completely captivated. "Ummm, likewise."

Their handshake lingered longer than necessary, and despite Cam's resolve to keep his involvement with Mia on a casual, amicable level because of his business partnership with her cousin Steve, he felt the unfamiliar stirring of envy rising to the surface. And that wasn't a good sign, considering he didn't give a damn who Mia set her sights on.

Or so he sternly reminded himself.

His fingers tightened around his bottle of beer. "So, who are you here with?" he asked abruptly, recognizing his own ploy to interrupt the warm, cozy moment between Mia and Rick.

"I came with my roommate Gina and her new boyfriend, Ray, and another friend, Carrie." She pointed to a table across the way where her three friends were sitting and then tipped her head toward Cameron and cast him a sly, knowing look. "Were you wondering if I came here with a date?"

"Does it look like I care?" He tipped his beer to his lips and took a long drink.

She leaned in close, her lashes falling half-mast over her beguiling gray eyes. "Oh, you care, sugar," she said in a low, husky tone that was as intimate as a caress. "You don't want to, but you do."

He watched her lips move as she spoke and inhaled the sweet, fruity scent of her drink on her breath. His gut clenched with a smoldering heat and desire, giving too much credence to her words.

With effort, he managed a cool, indifferent response. "Don't flatter yourself, sweetheart."

Mocking laughter lit up her gaze. "And you just keep trying to fool yourself into believing otherwise." Straightening, she set her glass on the table and redirected her attention back to Rick. "So, would you like to dance?"

Rick replied with an enthusiastic "Sure" at the same time Cameron said, "We're not here to dance."

Too late, he realized just how ridiculous he sounded-especially considering they were in a bar with a DJ and dance floor. But dammit, he didn't want her dancing with Rick.

He swore beneath his breath.

"Obviously you're not here to have a good time, but Rick is," Mia said, taking the opportunity to point out just how stuffy she thought Cameron really was. She held out her hand toward his friend and gave him a dazzling smile no red-blooded man could resist. "I'm looking for a dance partner. You interested?"

Rick jumped up and grabbed Mia's hand, nearly knocking over his barstool in his haste to accept her offer. "I'm not about to refuse a lady."

Cameron snorted at the term lady, but his attempt at sarcasm was lost in the wake of their departure. Annoyed at Mia's calculated attempt to provoke him, which had worked too well, he watched as the two of them made their way through the throng of people in the bar and up to the crowded dance floor.

The loud, upbeat music combined with the pulsing colored lights flashing above the dance stage encouraged a person to shed inhibitions and move to the suggestive rhythm-and Mia didn't hesitate to do exactly that. Despite all the other women bumping and grinding up on the stage in tight, skimpy outfits, his gaze never strayed from Mia-and every once in a while he caught her glancing his way as well, as if to make certain he was watching her have a good time with his friend.

Every one of her movements were damn sexy and arousing, and he couldn't help but notice he wasn't the only guy in the place who was drawn to her. She was naturally sensual, her body loose and unrestrained as she rolled and swayed her hips in time to the music. Then she turned, raised her hands above her head in sheer abandonment, and shimmied her curvaceous backside against the front of Rick's jeans. Rick made a grab for Mia's hips to pull her closer, and she laughed and easily slipped away in a lithe move that was as playful as it was teasing.

Cam clenched his jaw, along with his fist, shocked by the uncharacteristic and too-possessive urge he had to plant his knuckles against Rick's jaw for being way too intimate with Mia-even if she'd been the one to encourage his friend to be a little touchy-feely in her attempt to incite some kind of reaction out of Cam.

Typical Mia. She never missed an opportunity to taunt, tease, and provoke him in her never-ending quest to see just how far she could push him before he finally snapped and gave in to the heat and attraction simmering between them.

It wasn't going to happen, he vowed. He'd spent the past two years resisting her, and no way would she ever find out just how much she aroused him, and just how badly he wanted her. Doing so would undoubtedly be his biggest downfall and her greatest triumph.

Forcing his fingers to relax, he drained the last of his beer, which did nothing to ease the burn of frustration churning in his belly.

"Would you like to dance?"

Startled by the question because he hadn't been aware anyone had approached him, Cam glanced at the woman who'd issued the invitation. He instantly recognized the pretty redhead as Carrie, the friend Mia had pointed out earlier as one of the women she'd come to the bar with.

Her expression was hopeful and expectant, and he hated to be the one to deliver a rejection, but he wasn't in the mood to join Mia and Rick on the dance floor. "I'm sorry, but I'm not much of a dancer," he said with a friendly smile, trying to let her down as gently as possible.

She looked at Mia, then back at him, something akin to resentment flaring in the depths of her hazel eyes. "Sure, I understand."

She turned around and walked away. Cam frowned, finding her sudden change in attitude totally bizarre, considering she was a friend of Mia's, but Cam didn't have time to contemplate the woman's behavior for long. One of the bartenders rang a loud cowbell, and more bedlam broke loose in the bar.

The DJ put on "Legs" by ZZ Top, and the crowd went wild. Their ecstatic cheers and whistles seemed to reverberate off the walls as the cocktail waitresses and waiters jumped onto the surface of the bar and platforms and gave their audience quite a dance performance. The guys threw in some outrageous bump and grinds for the female customers, while the girls strutted their stuff in their low-riding jeans and their cleavage- and midriff-flaunting bar shirts.

Above Cam, one of the cocktail waitresses tried to grab his attention with a provocative dance move. Any other time he would have appreciated the girl's flirtations and rewarded it with a wink and a grin, but not tonight. He was too obsessed with a woman who had him completely tied up in knots.

Once the song was over he ordered another beer and was grateful to see Rick and Mia finally leave the dance floor. Mia said something to his friend, and they parted ways. Rick made his way back to the table with a goofy, infatuated grin on his face, while she headed toward the bar where she bought herself another one of those frothy, froufrou drinks. Then she met up with Carrie, the woman he'd turned down earlier, who was talking to a young guy who barely looked old enough to drink the beer he held in his hand.

As soon as Mia arrived, the guy's attention shifted from Carrie to Mia. Once again Cam watched her friend's posture stiffen and her expression change because of Mia's uninvited appearance, along with the fact that the guy Carrie had been talking to now barely acknowledged her. Though Mia spoke to both of them, it was clear to Cameron that she was oblivious to the underlying jealousy Carrie seemingly harbored against her.

"God, she's hot," Rick said as he settled into the seat next to Cam and finished off the rest of the beer left in his bottle.

"She's a royal pain in my ass," Cam muttered irritably. Not to mention she gave him a serious ache in other parts of his male anatomy.

"Then you wouldn't mind if I hooked up with her, right?"

Without thinking of what his actions might imply, Cameron shot Rick an ominous look that said way too much about his feelings toward Mia.

Rick immediately held up his hands in supplication and grinned knowingly. "Hey, say no more. But if I don't hook up with her, you've got to see that at least a dozen other guys in this place will."

The waitress came by with his second beer, and Cameron drained half of it in one drink. "I don't give a damn what Mia does, or with whom."

Rick laughed heartily at that. "You're a piss-poor liar, Sinclair. It's pretty obvious that she makes you hot, bothered, and very tense. You clench that beer bottle any tighter in your fist, and it's going to shatter," he said, pointing out just how on edge Mia had made him. After a moment, he asked, "What's the deal with you two, anyway?"

Wasn't that a loaded question, Cam thought. And where did he start in his explanation?

"I've known Mia since she was a teenager because of my friendship with her cousin, Steve, and his brothers, but it's only been in the past few years that she's-"

"Gotten under your skin?" Rick said with a smirk.

There was no use denying the truth. Not to his good friend who obviously knew better and had no qualms calling him on his pretense to feign otherwise. "Yeah."

"So why not just go for it?"

Such a simple solution for such a complicated situation. "Because she's so not my type. She's wild, brazen, and unpredictable." Having grown up with three older sisters and a mother who were stable, focused, and more on the refined side, now that he was in his thirties he'd come to appreciate and look for those sophisticated and dependable qualities in a woman.

And then there was the issue of Mia's brothers and cousins, who'd be none too happy if they found out he'd slept with their sister and the baby of the family. The Wilde men tended to be a protective group when it came to one of their own, Mia especially, and despite her continual efforts to rebuff their paternal instincts, Cam wasn't about to chance their wrath or screw up his working relationship with Steve because he couldn't keep his hands off Mia.

Cam shook his head and stated the other important fact. "I'm sure I'm nothing more than a conquest to her, like every other man before me."

Rick considered that for a moment and then shrugged. "I don't see how that's a bad thing."

Rick was a quintessential ladies' man who wasn't looking to settle down anytime soon. "Of course you wouldn't, but personally, I have no desire to be a notch in her bedpost." And Cam was certain she had many. "Besides, one-night stands just don't do it for me anymore."

He'd lost that urge a while ago, when he'd come to realize that sex for sex's sake left him feeling empty and craving something deeper that had so far been elusive to him. He supposed a part of that decision had evolved after witnessing just how happy and content his partner Steve was with his wife, Liz, and their new baby boy. He'd watched Steve go from being a confirmed bachelor to devoted husband and a doting, hands-on father, and the transformation was an amazing, inspiring sight to see.

Now, these days when Cam slept with a woman, it was important to him that there was something more substantial to back up the physical release. Like an emotional connection and some kind of commitment that made the romantic affair more meaningful and worthwhile. And from what he'd seen with Mia over the years, she lacked the ability to sustain a long-term relationship with any of the guys she'd dated.

One of the bartenders announced the wet T-shirt contest and encouraged the women in the place to enter, luring them in with a cash prize of a hundred bucks. The customers cheered enthusiastically, and Cameron paid no attention to the frenzy as the DJ put on the song "Do Ya Think I'm Sexy" by Rod Stewart to rile up the crowd and contestants.

A headache started throbbing in his temples, and he'd just decided it was time to leave and go home when he heard a loud, raucous sound that made him, and Rick, glance toward the dance floor. What Cam next laid eyes on hit him like a solid punch to the stomach.

There was Mia, a willing and sexy participant of the contest, along with a dozen other adventurous women. All the ladies had changed into the bar's white T-shirts that were cropped to expose their stomachs and were deliberately a size too small so the soft cotton molded to their breasts. That was nothing compared to how the fabric adhered to their curves as the waiters poured a pitcherful of water over each contestant's chest.

And it was obviously very cold water at that.

Rick gaped right along with him. "Holy…"

"Shit," Cameron bit out succinctly.

"You can say that again," Rick said humorously.

Cameron almost did, except his mouth had suddenly gone dry as dust. He stared at Mia and the way she looked in clinging, wet cotton, certain she'd had too much to drink and wasn't thinking with a clear head. Yes, she was bold and outrageous, but he'd never known her to be an exhibitionist. Alcohol had to be clouding her judgment tonight There was no other lucid explanation for this scandalous display of hers.

Most of the women were completely bare beneath their now see-through T-shirts, but a few of them had opted to keep their bras on. And thank God Mia was one of those women, Cam thought gratefully, because he was certain he would have had a heart attack if she'd gone au naturel in front of all these strangers.

Still, that thin, damp material molded to her full, shapely breasts and tight nipples like a second skin, and it was apparent that her bra was sheer, lacy, and unpadded. That provocative peek at her sexy lingerie left enough to the male imagination, yet also made her look far more alluring and seductive than the other girls who'd dared to go braless.

Desire flowed hot and molten through Cam's veins, along with an unholy amount of lust. Both of those physical reactions were becoming way too frequent when it came to Mia-and they were unwanted as hell.

When all the women were soaked, it was up to each contestant to draw as much energy and excitement from the crowd to ultimately win the contest. A group of frat boys had surged toward the stage and were spurring on Mia with catcalls and whistles as she worked to earn her share of attention-of which she had plenty. Her hips swayed to the beat of the music, and she caressed her hand across her bare, wet, sleek stomach, sending the young bucks into another round of enthusiastic cheers.

Jealousy twisted like a sharp knife in Cameron's belly, and he was fairly certain that was exactly the response from him Mia was hoping for. Still, somehow he managed to remain outwardly composed as he continued to watch her too-arousing performance.

Her skirt had inched up higher on her legs, exposing way too much of those smooth, toned thighs of hers, but she didn't seem to notice… or care. Her lustrous hair swung around her shoulders as she tossed her head back and laughed, her eyes sparkling seductively as her gaze latched onto him and she gave him a slow, bewitching smile that spoke volumes.

Gut instinct told him she didn't give a damn if she won. This performance was all for him, and him alone. She was deliberately tempting him. Teasing him. Daring him to let go and have fun, with her.

Under normal circumstances, he would have walked away from this latest antic of hers and chalked it up to another battle of the sexes between them. But this time, he couldn't do it.

Cam knew without a doubt that if it was one of his sisters up there on that stage in a wet, see-through T-shirt and too-short skirt, and one of his friends was in the audience, he'd want them to be sure she got the hell out of there and home safely. As it was, there was too much potential of some stranger taking advantage of her inebriated state. Being a P.I. and having investigated too many sexual assault cases, he was well aware of the possible dangers this kind of atmosphere bred-especially when half the men in the place had their eye on a certain woman and that hot little body of hers.

Then there was the issue of Mia's brothers. If it ever got back to one of her siblings that he'd left their baby sister in this bar in her condition, or if something happened to her because he'd decided to leave, he knew his ass would be on the line. And her brothers and cousins aside, he couldn't live with himself if he abandoned her.

A raw expletive escaped him. God, she was pure trouble. The bane of his existence. And this situation proved it.

She wanted a reaction out of him? Well, she was about to get one, he decided.