Meet Your Mate

by Donna Michaels

  His thoughts returned to last night. It wasn't like he'd planned on being in the kitchen long. He'd just needed to put some space between himself and Brielle. Two excruciating hours of sitting next to her on the couch was more than his libido could take.

  She sat there looking all soft and smelling of some kind of exotic spice that made his mouth water. So did her long expanse of leg. He couldn't stop himself from brushing her thigh. Hell, he'd eaten more pizza and drank more soda last night than he had in two months, all so he could experience the feel of her leg. He swallowed. Damn but that woman had the nicest pair of legs. Well, next to Ariel. He rubbed his chin, mentally comparing the two.

  Smooth, shapely ... sexy, they had a lot in common—not the least of which was the fact they got his motor running. Jack grunted. He was an idiot. If Brielle was part of the problem, then he'd played right into her hands.

  "Jack? Jack? Earth to Jack.” Matthew snapped his fingers in front of Jack's face. “Where were you? Never mind. I know. Another mission."

  Yeah, a forbidden one. He felt bad enough about jeopardizing the case, but that didn't compare to the guilt gripping his gut for putting the moves on his brother's possible girlfriend.

  Should he tell Matthew? Yes. His spine straightened He lived by the honesty code. He had to tell him.

  "Matt, about last ni—"

  "There you two are,” Bill interrupted, scurrying into the massive home gym, sweat on his brow. “I've been all over this place looking for you."

  "You should've called my cell,” Matthew said.

  "Or checked the security monitors,” Jack added.

  Bill pushed his glasses up. “Yes, well, I'll make a note of that for next time."

  "I'm glad you're here.” Jack cupped the producer's shoulder making sure he stayed put. “I want to take a look at the box seats Matthew and Danni occupied last night."

  "I thought Franco's men and the police already went over it?” Matthew frowned.

  "They did, but I want to check a few things out for myself.” He transferred his attention back to Bill. “So, what do you say?"

  "Sorry, Jack. No can do. You'll have to call Mr. DeMarco or send your men over there. I need you and Matthew to accompany the four girls on a picnic,” Bill stated, hugging his clipboard.

  "Sounds like fun.” A grin split across Matthew's face.

  "A picnic?” Jack's senses red flagged. He narrowed his eyes. “What aren't you telling me, Bill?

  "Nothing. You're all going to a horse ranch two hours north of here.” The producer tugged loose, then strode to the door where he stopped and turned to face them. “Oh yeah, there's a firing range there too. You leave in an hour. I'm leaving now. See you there."

  "What? No way! No!"

  Too late. The producer disappeared faster than studio magic.

  Matthew patted his shoulder. “Sorry, Bro. But look on the bright side. You can determine if any of the girls are marksmen."

  "That's what I'm afraid of,” Jack muttered, questioning his brother's sanity. “Why in the world would you want to do this?"

  "What? Spend the day with four beautiful women, who all want to be with me—Matthew the starving artist, not Andy Matthews the famous one?"

  Jack sighed. “Look, I know it's tough on you, being famous, but surely you see there's a potential for danger here?” He grabbed Matthew's shoulders and glared at him. “I'm not putting a gun in any of those girls’ hands, especially with you around."

  "Fine, the guys running the range can,” Matthew said, his gaze pleading. “I want this, Jack. I need this. Okay? And I'm willing to do whatever this show wants in order to get it."

  Jack dropped his hands and closed his eyes. He couldn't believe how reckless his brother was being. What the hell was wrong with him? Why would he put himself in danger? Jack's eyes snapped open. Unless he'd already fallen for one of these women.

  "Matthew, are you in love with one of the contestants?"

  "I ... I...” his brother stammered and looked away. “I believe I am, Jack. I believe I am. But I'd like to take every opportunity this show gives me to figure that out."

  "Care to tell me which girl?” He probably wouldn't get an answer because of the show's rules, but he had to try.

  "You know I can't. But I will tell you this.” Matthew elbowed him and winked. “She's beautiful and has the nicest pair of legs."

  Jack's gut tightened. Brielle had the nicest pair of legs—in his opinion, anyway. He eyed his brother. “Gee, could you be a little more specific?"

  "Yeah, but what fun would that be?” Matthew laughed. “Oh, come on, Bro. What could seriously go wrong on a picnic?"

  "You want the short list?"

  * * * *

  When Brielle learned the ranch they were to spend the day at had a firing range, she immediately locked herself in her bathroom and called her uncle.

  "You have to talk to the producers and get them to change today's destination.” She paced the ten-by-ten floor.

  "I already tried, hon. But since Matthew gave the go ahead, they're proceeding as scheduled."

  "Are they nuts? Are they hoping he gets shot? Is that the kind of ratings they want?” She stopped to take a breath.

  "Calm down. No one is going to get shot. I've already sent some of our men with Jack's to check everything from top to bottom, and they'll be running the range."

  She exhaled a long breath. “Thank goodness for that. But I still don't like it, Uncle Franco. Couldn't we just forgo the range and concentrate on whatever else the ranch has to offer?"

  "I tried that too, Brielle, but the producers insisted Matthew wanted to utilize the whole ranch.” Uncle Franco's sigh filled the phone. “So, I guess you'll be a shoot'em up, ride'em cowgirl today."

  She groaned. “I don't know how to ride a horse, and I'm going to have to pretend I don't know how to shoot."

  "Why would you do that?"

  Brielle pulled the phone away and looked at it as if it had grown a tail. Has he flipped? She blinked, then put the phone back to her ear. “Maybe because I wouldn't want Jack to wonder why I'm such a good shot? It's not generally a prerequisite for a dancer, you know."

  "Yeah, but more and more women in this country have a gun license. Besides, I know you, if there's any type of competition, you won't be able to stop yourself."

  He was right. Her competitive side wouldn't let her back down from a challenge. She smiled. “I get that from my uncle, you know."

  "And don't you forget it."

  "Listen, while I have you on the phone I need you to get me some small surveillance cameras. I want to hide them in the security room and see if I can't catch the culprit fiddling with the mansion's security."

  "Okay. Anything else?"

  "Yes.” She paused to chew her lip and form her words carefully.

  "Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like this?” he asked.

  She smiled despite herself. “It's about the call Matthew got last night.” Playing with the soap dispenser, she watched soap ooze out and drip to the vanity, spreading in several directions—a perfect reflection of her thoughts on Jack. She wanted to believe in his innocence but the evidence...

  "Yes? Go on. You wouldn't happen to have one of your hunches, would you?"

  "Not exactly.” She swallowed. How should she put this?

  "Well, come on, spit it out,” Uncle Franco prompted, his impatience reaching through the line to straighten her spine.

  "I overheard Jack talking on his cell phone last night—around the time Matthew said the call came into the box.” She took a deep breath and continued, “I managed to check the received calls log on his phone when Matthew arrived and preoccupied Jack, but there weren't any. So, that means he'd initiated the call.” Eyes squeezed shut, she waited for her uncle to speak.

  "What did you hear?"

  "He said: this is no joke.” Her eyes squeezed tighter, then shot open when her uncle's laughter burst into her ear. “What's so funny?"

  "Oh, hon, Jack s
aid that to me last night when he called to report the snake incident and you grilling him in the security booth.” Uncle Franco's amusement still lingered in his voice.

  "He did?” She swallowed and refused to believe the relief sagging her shoulders had anything to do with clearing Jack. It stemmed from crossing a suspect off her list. She nodded to her reflection.

  Uncle Franco chuckled. “Yes, he did. Jack wasn't happy with my amused reaction either. Seems your suspicion baffled him. Guess he's used to doing the interrogation—not being interrogated."

  Brielle nodded. She knew how he felt. His interrogation of her last night had been necessary, and she would've questioned him if he hadn't, but it didn't mean she liked being a suspect.

  "Okay, hon. If there's nothing else, I'd better let you go. I want to call the men. They should be there by now. Call me tonight."

  "I will. Bye.” She flipped the phone closed and stared at her reflection. “Great, Jack's in the clear, and soon we'll be off to the isolated ranch with an armed maniac."

  Jack's in the clear. Now what?

  Her pulse jumped. No longer a suspect, he only had to pay her some attention and she'd be sunk. “No! No, I cannot give into that attraction.” Her whisper fogged the mirror. He still posed a danger, clouding her mind with desire when it needed to be clear to investigate.

  Yanking a towel from the ring, she balled the soft material and swiped at the mirror. “What do I say to Jack after that kiss?” She touched her mouth and blinked. His lips had met hers briefly before they'd jumped apart, but the contact had been enough to send a searing heat to Brielle's core. Her toes still tingled.

  "What do I do?” She looked down at her feet and wiggled her toes. Finish getting ready and go do your job.

  Dressed in a formfitting red T-shirt and tight jeans, the only pair the studio had sent, she joined the other girls in the living room ten minutes later.

  "My, don't you look all country. A regular Brielle Rogers,” Carla said, close to a sneer.

  "You think so? Thanks,” she answered with a smile, noting the other woman's short shorts and tied plaid shirt. “I guess that would make you Carla Duke."

  Danni snickered.

  "Oh, do me next. Who am I?” Mandy asked eagerly, turning in a circle.

  "Oh, that's easy. You'd be Mandy Parton.” Carla obliged.

  "Really? Because of my blond hair?” Mandy blinked, twirling a curl in her fingers.

  Brielle knew Carla had slung the name because of the woman's more than ample curves but kept quiet. Dressed similarly to Carla, Mandy practically fell out of everything.

  "I hope that doesn't mean I'm Roy?” Danni looked down at her jeans and T-shirt with a frown.

  "No, you'd be, Danni Oakley, right?” Mandy asked excitedly.

  "Right.” The teacher smiled as chimes echoed one after another through the foyer.

  "Oh, they're here,” Mandy squealed and rushed for the door, while Danni and Carla strolled behind.

  Stomach flopping, Brielle hung back, reluctant to face Jack. Maybe they didn't have to bring up the kiss. Yes, they did, her conscience insisted. Time to get this over. She reached the others as they opened the doors.

  "Hello, ladies. Don't you all look ready for the ranch?” Matthew graced them with a glimpse of his perfect teeth and sexy dimples.

  "Wow, so do the two of you.” Danni blushed.

  Carla's mouth joined Mandy's on the floor, while Brielle lost her breath.

  Dressed in jeans and denim button-down shirts—Matthew's plaid and Jack's a solid blue—the men filled the foyer with testosterone. Even their boots oozed sex appeal.

  She forced air back into her lungs and tried to sound nonchalant. “So, did you ride up on horseback or is that later?"

  "Later.” Matthew laughed. “We brought the sleek racehorse."

  "You did? How will we all fit on one animal?” Mandy blinked.

  "He means the limo.” Carla sighed, moving forward to grab Matthew's arm. “Let's hit the range, cowboy."

  "Yeah, I can hardly wait.” Danni smiled and took Matthew's other arm and he led them out the door.

  "Hey, wait for me.” Mandy ran after them, leaving Brielle alone with Jack.

  They stared at each other in awkward silence. She knew she should say something—anything—to set the record straight about their kiss, but her heart wouldn't let her mind form the words.

  "Brielle, about last night...” He stepped toward her, then halted, running a hand through his hair. “Ah, hell. I'm no good at this."

  "It's all right, Jack. What happened was a harmless mistake,” she said, her voice no longer a prisoner to her heart. That lie sounded believable, even to her ears.

  He exhaled the rigidity from his shoulders. “I'm glad you understand. You're here for my brother. I had no right to—"

  "Hey, I didn't exactly push you away, either. It was a mistake, that's all,” she gushed another lie and forced her lips to smile.

  "You're right. It won't happen again.” He smiled back. “So, are we okay? I don't want there to be any awkwardness between us."

  "We're fine,” she lied some more. They weren't fine. Fine would be to drop the act and see where the attraction headed now that she didn't suspect him. But, since Uncle Franco and the Andersons had made her promise to keep her non-contestant status from Jack, she had no choice but to follow his lead. Besides, after her fiasco on that other reality show, she'd be better off questioning her judgment a little while longer.

  "Good, then let's hit the trail.” He grinned, holding the door open for her. His rare expression tripped her pulse, but she reined it in and walked outside with him.

  Two hours later, the six of them stepped from their limo onto a real working ranch.

  Hands in her back pockets, Brielle looked around and inhaled. Fresh-cut grass and roses fragranced the air. She viewed endless green fields and pastures stretching in one direction, while hills graced the other. Beautiful ... peaceful. Wishing she had more time to take it all in, she sighed and walked with the others.

  "Okay, so here's how it's going to go today,” Bill said as they headed toward food-laden picnic tables. “You're going to eat, then do the firing range, then go horseback riding."

  "Do we win anything, Bill? There's usually something extra going on,” Danni said as they reached the tables.

  "You're a bright girl, Danni. Yes, you do win something today.” He walked over to Matthew and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Whoever has the best score at the firing range, wins alone-time with our bachelor today."

  "Yes!” Carla smiled, fist in the air.

  "I don't know how to shoot, but I'm told I'm a quick learner.” Mandy winked at Matthew.

  He smiled and looked at Danni and Brielle. “How about you two? You up for the competition?"

  Danni looked at Carla. “Yeah, bring it on."

  Jack quietly watched the girls, and Brielle noticed his back stiffen at that last comment. She wasn't thrilled either. Was Mandy the only one who didn't know how to shoot?

  "And you? What about you, Brielle?” Bill smiled knowingly.

  "I can hardly wait,” she answered with a half-truth. She'd only been on the show for four days, and already it felt like two years. She sighed, wishing something would put an end to this nightmare. Almost. She didn't want anyone to get hurt.

  "Great. Go ahead and eat.” Bill confiscated a piece of fried chicken, then walked away.

  "Wow, what a feast! Everything looks so good.” Danni grabbed a plate, and the others followed.

  A little later, having eaten more than her share of the feast, Brielle got up to throw her plate away as did Jack.

  "So, you any good with a gun?” His sexy tone threw her off guard.

  She blinked and looked up at him. “Maybe."

  "I guess we'll find out soon enough.” He studied her face.

  "Hey, Brielle.” Matthew approached, tossing his plate. “Can I see you a second?"

  "Sure.” She ripped her gaze from his brother a
nd focused on him. “What's up?"

  He smiled. “I'm trying to steal a few minutes with each of you girls and right now, it's your turn, if that's okay?” Matthew glanced at Jack.

  "Sure. Go ahead, knock yourself out."

  "Okay, great.” Matthew grasped her hand and led Brielle toward a grove of trees, cameraman in tow. He stopped to glance around. “Look, I don't know how long I have."

  Alarm stiffened her back. “What's wrong?"

  "Oh, nothing. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you.” He smiled, squeezing her hand as he leaned against a tree. “I just wanted to pass a message to you from your uncle. He stopped by the mansion before I left and dropped off the cameras you asked for.

  "Good.” She nodded, noticing several gazes trained on them, including Jack's. “Where are they? In the limo's trunk?"

  "No. They're back at the mansion. But don't worry. I've got them hidden. I couldn't bring them with me. Jack would've wanted an explanation."

  Fighting a frown, she leaned toward him and smiled. “Great. And Uncle Franco couldn't drop them off in my room because of the cameras I insisted Jack place in there.” Those cameras were becoming a pain. They'd forced her to transfer her laptop and phone to the vent in her bathroom and promptly stopped her showers, due to steam. She had to endure tepid baths. “Do you have any ideas how I can get them?"

  "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.” Matthew's fingers tightened around hers. “But we're going to be interrupted shortly, so listen up. If you want to get those cameras tonight, then you'd better win that challenge."

  "Okay, Brielle, you've had enough alone-time.” Carla strutted to them and struck a pose, hands planted on her hips. “If you want more, then you'll just have to beat me in this challenge."

  Brielle freed her fingers and confronted the brunette head on. “Well, then prepare to be beaten, Ms. Duke.” She smiled and, not waiting for a reply, walked away.

  Jack's emotionless gaze gave nothing away as she passed him, but she knew he'd overheard that last comment. Her heart lurched. What would he think when he saw her shoot? She'd probably be suspect number one. Oh well, it had to be done. She needed those cameras tonight.