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, where 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 and 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 cow bell 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, because 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 he’d 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. was mainly responsible for his lack of female companionship, and after the busy week he’d had at work, Cameron decided that 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 up 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, he 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 smokey 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 the drink she held in her hand, which looked like a frothy Pina Colada, 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, 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 . . . ”