Ross Cameron Ebook Novels & Stories

The very reason we are here is because we suspect that Gladys is working with the rebellion and we want to find Tristan and the rebel stronghold. Yet it’s almost too convenient for Cameron to be here, to be so ready to share information like he wants to help. Looking at Bethany, I can see that she wants to believe him, looking at him with her wide trusting eyes. Their mutual past must make it easier for her trust, even here where everything is a mess and no one can or should be trusted. “I don’t care about the war, the king, or the rebels. I’m just trying to find a way to make money. I’m a mercenary,” Cameron says.

I reached for my phone, expecting another update from the PR team. It wasn’t. Cameron: Heard about the fire. Are you okay? I’ll be in London soon. Dinner? I stared at the words for a long moment. Cameron. Steady, kind, uncomplicated Cameron. A man who wanted nothing from me, nothing from Harvest Bloom. No agenda, no schemes, no strings tied to business legacies or family wars. Just a man. Dinner sounded… good. I typed slowly, deliberately. Me: I’m fine. Thank you for asking. Dinner would be nice.

Trayrock, Present Time Cameron didn’t have a plan as to where he was going. Just away. He needed to leave before he exploded. It was too much, all at once. His family home had been attacked, his father and his mate had almost died, and Cameron’s mates had kept that news from him. They would still be keeping that secret if Jules and Harry hadn’t come to Trayrock after Cameron. The betrayal was so great and his rage so white-hot that Cameron couldn’t even start to think clearly.

When she looks forward again, Cameron repeats his brother's proposal. _______________ Under the gaze of my magnificent father and this noble court, I would like to ask your hand in marriage. I promise you, Celine Coleman. Accepted? ______________ I promise you, Prince Cameron Crowther-his voice comes out strangely high and muffled, contrasting with his hard appearance. - Accepted. - With a triumphant smile, Celine returns to her seat and Cameron does the same. His smile, though, is as hard as armor, but the girl doesn't seem to notice. Out of nowhere, I feel a hand against my arm, and fingernails begin to scratch my skin. I struggle to hold back the urge to jump out of my chair. She doesn't

Like the underground fight had merely inconvenienced him. Cameron stepped forward immediately. The entire courtyard seemed to tighten around him. Mercer’s gaze shifted calmly across the gathered wolves. “Alpha Cameron,” he called smoothly. “You always were your father’s son.” A faint smile touched his mouth. “Compassionate. Predictable.” Cameron’s wolf pressed hard against the surface now. Mercer noticed that too. Then he reached into his coat slowly. Putting out a small black device. Mercer’s eyes slid toward the conditioned wolves surrounding him. Then toward the gathered pack behind us. And finally - toward me.

Lora would be having a hard time managing Deborah’s demands for divorce and Phillip’s temper. Cameron fidgeted with the collar of his shirt as the Triquetra made their way towards the car. “I should have brought my suit,” he said fretfully. “I’m not dressed right for this.” “Nonsense,” Heath gripped Cameron’s shoulders until their red-haired mate looked up and met his eyes. “Cam. You are dressed perfectly. You are dressed respectfully, and in tone with who you are and the region that we live in.”

Ren pointed out. "Well slap a cork on my dick and call me a water bottle,” he swooned. “I've never wanted to be a water bottle so badly," he licked his lips and moaned. "You're too much," Reniece giggled. "Cam, did you get the email from the wedding planner?" She asked. Cameron threw her his phone and told her to check. "No, I want you to tell me," she said, not making eye contact with him. He suddenly thought back to that day in his room with the box of Lucy Charms.

Russo laughed softly, “Don’t worry about that, dear. The important thing is, he likes you.” “He doesn't.” No one would believe her with that blush on her face. She was right to say that, the only thing I fancied about her was her sweet little cunt, that face, the unexpected things that came out her mouth, her innocence— and the urge to ruin it. I wasn't a good guy in her life, I was the one who wanted to ruin it. To push her limits and bring out the dark thoughts that screamed despite her silence. Camille was a mask. She wore a calm that didn't suit her. She may have been born a calm child, but with the chaos around her, something stuck, something dark she didn't want to give into.

And yet, every single day, I was playing with fire. Ronan Voss. Thirty-eight. Tall, powerfully built, with a sharp jawline, piercing gray eyes, and an aura of absolute command. He was brilliant, cutthroat, and devastatingly handsome in that cold, magnetic way. In the brutal world of New York finance, he was both feared and respected. And I wanted him so badly it terrified me. The intercom buzzed, making me jump. “Liora. My office. Now.” His deep, authoritative voice sent a rush of heat through my body. My nipples tightened against my silk blouse, and I felt that familiar slick warmth between my thighs.

It was new, but also intriguing and Cameron couldn’t help but smile. He liked the feeling. It gave him a sense of challenge and he was going to make sure he didn’t fail. After all, he always gets what he wants and Ivy was the most interesting woman he had seen in a long while. He didn’t plan on letting her get away. ~•~ “What an annoying prick.” Emma, after having left the racing track, huffed as she sat in the back seat of the ride Ivory had ordered. Glancing at her, Ivory could once again see that she wasn’t in a good mood and it was obviously because of Cameron.