Meet Your Mate

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Meet Your Mate Page 11

by Donna Michaels


  "I'll let you know in three—maybe four—hours.” Her eyes fluttered closed and she moaned, uncaring that the cameras zoomed in on them.

  When he finished with her neck, back and arms, he gently altered her position until she sat on the bench with her legs across him.

  "Now that's what I'm talking about.” Her eyes closed again and she had all she could do not to sink under the water. “I still can't believe how sore I am."

  "Yeah, horses can take their toll on a novice.” He lifted her leg out of the water and massaged from the knee to her foot.

  She groaned. “Did you have to say the ‘h’ word?"

  "What? Horse?” He laughed.

  "Yes.” She groaned again. “I've just decided I'm allergic to them."

  "That's too bad.” He mimicked a bad neigh.

  "Hey!” Eyes open, she cocked her head. “Don't make me shoot you.” Then she leaned forward and tickled his side.

  "Uh-oh, don't let Jack hear you say that, or he'll have you in handcuffs."

  Brielle sobered—mostly because that idea appealed to her.

  "Speaking of Jack.” Matthew looked at the house as he drew her other leg out of the water. “He's right."

  She started to close her eyes again, enjoying the massage. “Yeah? About what?"

  "About you having great legs."

  Her eyes snapped back open. “He said that?” She bounced her gaze between Matthew and the mansion.

  "Oh, yeah. And I was serious when I said I thought he liked you. In fact,” Matthew's grin grew devious, “I'm betting that my dear brother is spitting bullets right now, watching me touch your legs when he wishes it were him."

  She blinked ... twice. Jack likes my legs? A thrill warmed her spine. What did she say to that? When in doubt, fall back on humor.

  "He wishes you were massaging his legs?"

  Matthew threw his head back and laughed. “No. You know what I mean."

  His ringing cell phone saved her from having to respond.

  "Ah. Right on time. I'll be back.” He winked, then got out to answer his phone.

  The lights went on in the study. She smirked and exchanged a look with Matthew before he disappeared into the house, phone to his ear.

  Maybe winning that contest wasn't so bad. She sighed and sank deeper into the hot water. Good company, free massage, security cameras, it wasn't such a bad day after all.

  Until the power went out.

  She sat up and scanned the darkened grounds and house. Adrenaline shot through her body, numbing her pain as memory guided her out of the tub to a nearby towel. Quickly drying off, she shushed the cameramen and told them to stay put as her eyes adjusted to the moonlight.

  Turning toward a faint rustling, she skirted the chairs and closed in on a now visible shadow. Her heart raced. Matthew? Jack? She stopped to listen. No. They would've called to her and since the cameramen were off to her left—she had an intruder.

  Going into attack mode, she positioned herself in the shadow's path, then struck with a diving roll that took the figure down. They wrestled, each taking turns on the bottom until the intruder went slack and she pinned him to the ground—just as the lights came on and cameras appeared in her face.

  "Brielle, are you all right?” Matthew ran toward her from the house.

  She looked up at him and nodded.

  "Then why are you sitting on my brother?"

  Her gaze snapped to the intruder pinned beneath her. Blue eyes, black hair, cocky grin.

  "Jack."

  Chapter Nine

  Jack's whole body throbbed with awareness as he looked up at the sexy, wet vixen straddling his groin. That part throbbed most of all. He swallowed, trying to regain control.

  "What were you doing, Brielle? Practicing a new dance routine?” He hoped he sounded amused.

  She blinked, her mouth still opened in shock. He knew how she felt. Never had he expected to find himself in this position. Not even in his wildest dreams.

  His concern should've been for his brother, but it hadn't been. Thoughts of the beautiful, helpless Brielle brought him outside as soon as the power had gone out.

  "Yes, I call it ‘Intruder Takedown.'” She slapped his chest. “Jack? What the hell were you doing? Trying to scare me to death?” She hit him again, realization of the past few minutes dawning in her eyes.

  "No. I knew you were alone out here, so I came to make sure you were safe.” He grabbed her hands and looked up into her flushed face. His groin tightened. If she didn't get off of him, he was going to burst.

  He'd thought this afternoon had been trying on his libido when she kept running her hands over her well-rounded bottom. His jeans had tightened to the point of exploding. But that was nothing compared to having her wet, almost bare bottom on top of him now. Ranger training had prepared him to handle any situation as soon as it arose. The instructors obviously left out one course—how to deal with sexy bundle of mayhem Brielle Bennett.

  He swallowed a groan. “Brielle, you can get off me now."

  A wicked look crossed her face but disappeared so fast he might've imagined it. Wishful thinking.

  "Sorry, Jack.” She hesitated, glancing down at him. “But I can't."

  "What?” He dropped her hands and frowned. What kind of game was she playing?

  "I can't. I'm sorry but my limbs aren't responding, thanks to that damn horse.” She clenched her teeth. “Remind me to stick to the wooden ones that go round and round with a pole shoved up—” She cleared her throat. “Through them."

  He would've laughed, but her shifting caused something to rise, and it wasn't her. His jaw cracked.

  "Here, let me help you, Brielle.” Grinning, Matthew came to her side and Jack's aid.

  "I'm afraid it's going to take more than one of you.” Tears streamed down her face as she laughed. Her chuckles vibrated through him, fueling his urge to turn her over. “I may be stuck here all night."

  "Oh, hell no,” Jack muttered. He'd be dead by morning. “Come on, someone grab her other arm."

  She looked down at him, face flushed, mouth opened, eyes gleaming. Jack blinked. It was as if his fantasy had suddenly turned real.

  "I'll help.” One of the crew rushed to her other side. Jack made a mental note to put that man in his will.

  "Okay, on three,” Matthew said. “One, two, three!” They lifted temptation straight up and off him.

  She was gone.

  He closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath, then exhaled. The torture had stopped. Telling his body it was glad, he opened his eyes and burst out laughing.

  Matthew and the other man held Brielle by the arms, but her legs were still stuck in a sitting position. His chuckles increased.

  "Laugh it up, G.I. Jack. At least I wasn't taken down by a girl.” She glared at him.

  "Oh, good one, Brielle.” Matthew grinned. “You're turn, Jack."

  Rising to his feet, he shook his head. “No. I think the poor girl's been through enough.” He glanced at her bent legs, then back to his brother. “Do you want me to have Rodriguez get the riding mower? Brielle looks like she's ready to tackle that front lawn."

  "Jack Anderson, so help me!” Amusement and annoyance danced in her gaze. “Just wait till I get my legs straightened, then I'm going to kick your ass—again."

  "Don't flatter yourself, sweetheart. You just got lucky.” He winked, then smiled when her jaw dropped. “Once I realized that was you, I let you pin me."

  "You let me?” Her voice rose as her legs began to straighten. “That's bull. You're just trying to save your macho image."

  "Think what you want, Calamity, but—"

  "Calamity?” Exasperation rounded her beautiful brown eyes.

  His pulse galloped.

  "Yeah. Think what you want, but I know the truth.” He smiled, noting how the guys backed away as her feet touched the ground.

  "And what truth might that be, Uncle Sam?” Hands on her hips, she stepped toward him.

  "That not even on my worse day coul
d you take me down.” He cocked his head and watched her reaction.

  Chest rising, she stopped in front of him and glared. Desire rushed through his veins and tightened his groin. There was nothing helpless about this woman.

  "You wanna bet?” Her voice dropped to a sexy low timbre, heating his spine.

  Matthew stepped between them. “Okay, you two. Play time is over."

  "What a great idea,” Bill said, clapping his hands.

  "What are you doing here? I thought you'd left?” Brielle twisted to face the producer.

  "I did. I came back when I'd heard the lights went out. The whole block was down but I'm happy to report, I called the power company and things are back to normal. But anyway, boy, am I glad I came back.” He laughed, writing furiously on his clipboard. “I'm going to schedule a self-defense training session Matthew and Jack can show the girls."

  "Absolutely not!” Jack crossed his arms and stared at the producer. I swear his ink pen has more brains. “Look, Bill, under the circumstances, teaching these women anything they can use against Matthew is a bad idea."

  "I'd have to agree,” Brielle said, her stance confident. “As much as I firmly believe all women should know how to take care of themselves, considering the threats on this show, I agree with Jack. It's a bad idea."

  His eyes narrowed. He didn't need her help on this issue and would've told her, but she swung her gaze to his and chewed her lower lip. Damn. He'd just gotten his body back under control.

  "Something wrong?” Intelligence worked behind her sexy stare. “Surely it's okay for a woman to have an opinion, especially if it coincides with yours?"

  Why did his body perceive everything this woman did as sexy? She was his parents’ choice as a “mate” for his brother, for Pete's sake. Get over it.

  "I don't think Jack minds that you have an opinion, Brielle.” Matthew's gaze ran the length of her body, lingering on her legs before he smiled into her face.

  Blood rush through Jack's ears as some foreign emotion irritated his nerves to the point his fists clenched. “Opinions are good. I'm just surprised you sided with me instead of wanting to show off your other talents."

  Fire replaced her amusement and ignited his own. Her eyes positively flashed as she glared at him. “And what talents might those be, Ranger Dick?"

  Try as he might, Jack couldn't stop his foot from entering his mouth. “Oh, my instincts tell me you're a very talented woman, Brielle. Just know that I'm watching you. Don't even think of trying anything on my brother."

  "Jack, Jack, Jack.” She shot him a look, then grimaced with each step she made toward Matthew. “I can promise you, with utter certainty that I do not want to harm this man.” Her arm slipped around Matthew's waist and his brother smiled down at her.

  Jealousy stabbed in several places, stiffening his spine. She was off-limits, and his body was just going to have to deal with it.

  Matthew squeezed her closer. “I believe you, Brielle."

  Jack wanted to believe her, too. The thought that he could be attracted to a liar—someone who wished to harm his brother—turned his stomach. And, thanks to Caroline, he'd learned the hard way not to trust anybody.

  Nothing is as it seems.

  "Okay, no self-defense lessons,” Bill said, clipboard down by his side. “That's okay. We have a full agenda anyway. I've no idea where we would've fit that in."

  "Great, now that's settled, and the drama is over.” Matthew glanced down at the woman still clinging to him. “How about I walk you out?"

  "Thanks.” The warm expression she granted his brother heated Jack's insides. He swallowed and tried not to listen. He failed. Every movement, every flicker, every nuance that woman made increased his blood pressure.

  She turned her gaze on him. “Good night, Jack."

  He chomped on an invisible bit. The sound of his name on her lips and the way her voice dropped an octave got more than his heart to throb.

  "Sorry about the tackle.” Her smile and his brother's laughter did nothing to dispel his darkening mood.

  And it had nothing to do with the fact those two would soon share a goodnight kiss, Jack told himself as he headed straight for the wet bar in the study. Nope. It had nothing to do with the fact his brother's lips would be tasting Brielle's sweetness. He poured a stiff drink.

  Holding up the glass, he stared at the amber liquid. Would Matthew send her home at the next eliminations in three days? I couldn't be that lucky. Jack tossed the drink back. He had to squelch his growing attraction for the dancer.

  It'd been a long time since he'd felt this way for a woman. In fact, he'd only felt like this twice before—and both times had proven to be a mistake. He wasn't about to go for round three.

  The first time he'd succumbed to a relationship had been just before shipping off to the Persian Gulf, sixteen years ago. He'd been a young recruit, buying into the old saying “absence makes the heart grow fonder,” when all it had done was garner him a Dear John letter.

  Heather, his childhood sweetheart, had written to explain she had needs he couldn't fulfill from across the pond so she'd married a local college boy. He remembered feeling like his heart had been ripped from his chest and lay bleeding in the sand next to the engagement ring that had fallen from the envelope.

  "You'd think that experience would've cured me for good. Nope,” he told the bottle in his hand before he refilled his glass. “Round two was worse."

  Caroline. Blond, beautiful, and ambitious—the total opposite of Heather personality-wise. Caroline knew what she wanted and took it. Unfortunately, it wasn't Jack she wanted, it was money. He was just a means to get it. She and her brother had pretended an interest in his business with the intent to procure the very items his company had been paid to secure.

  He swallowed the burning liquid. Thank goodness he'd realized and corrected his mistake. Caroline hadn't loved him, just the houses he'd had access to. He and his men had caught her and her brother red-handed, then turned them over to the police. Luckily the Mastersons hadn't pressed charges against his company.

  Slamming his glass onto the bar, he watched the remaining alcohol swish in protest. His emotions shared the same turmoil. Brielle wasn't going to be the final nail in the coffin of his screwed-up love life.

  "She isn't going to be anything other than a contestant on this show,” he vowed, capping the bottle. From now on, all feelings for her were to cease and desist.

  * * * *

  "Club Terpsichore! We're here,” Danni exclaimed two nights later, excitement lighting her face. “That's a strange name. I wonder what it means."

  "Terpsichore is Greek. She was the muse of dance and song,” Brielle explained as she eyed the glittering entrance from their limo.

  "What a cool place for a group date.” Danni gazed out the window.

  "Yeah, I can't wait to dance with Matthew.” Mandy's expression turned dreamy. “We didn't get to dance on our one-on-one last night."

  "At least you've gotten a one-on-one with him.” Carla sighed, picking invisible lint off her sexy green-haltered dress. “I'd take dinner and a show with him any day."

  Earlier that afternoon, the girls had each received a box with an identical dress, except for color. The card had said to wear their dancing shoes and be prepared to get down with Matthew and his brother.

  Brielle swallowed, her stomach suddenly going hollow. Dancing and Dodger? How would she ever survive the night? It would be trying enough with her still sore muscles, but making her dance in front of Dodger? That wasn't good.

  Maybe Jack wouldn't recognize her. Maybe her body wouldn't react to his. Yeah, and maybe she'd discover Atlantis and become its queen. Her sigh filled the air. She was doomed. Stuck. Brielle Bennett, dance instructor, had to dance.

  "Okay, let's go in. The guys are supposed to meet us here in fifteen minutes,” Carla said, glancing up from her fancy watch. “Let's check the place out."

  "Sounds good to me.” Brielle followed the others past the crowd and into
the club.

  Her apprehension tonight wasn't just about Jack. This noisy, public facility screamed trouble for Matthew. The club was the perfect place for anyone to get to him. She needed to acquire a feel for location before his arrival.

  Pulse-pounding music vibrated around them as they inched further into the hopping joint. Gyrating bodies packed the dance floor from corner to corner, while others lounged in circular booths or stood at the twenty-foot glass bar.

  "Great, this place is a nightmare,” she muttered, not worried the others would hear her over the music. She could barely hear herself think.

  Danni leaned in close. “Come on. Let's loosen up before Matthew gets here.” Then she pulled Brielle onto the dance floor.

  What if Jack saw her? She hesitated, ignoring her body's desire to respond to the beat. The other contestants danced around her. What was she worried about? At the very worst, he'd recognize her. So what? Her shoulders relaxed as her body began to sway. Big deal.

  Brielle Bennett the dancer instructor would dance, while Brielle Chapman the investigator would keep an eye out for threats against the groom.

  "May we join you?” Two heavyset men, dressed in throwbacks from the seventies, smiled at the girls.

  The four of them stopped dancing and exchanged a look before returning their gaze to the men.

  Carla blanched. “As if."

  The men leaned in closer to be heard. “Ah, come on,” one of them said, looking hopefully at them. “We just want to dance."

  "It's just that we're waiting for someone,” Danni explained with a gentle smile.

  "Yeah, we don't want to get in trouble.” Mandy turned her back on them and faced Brielle, mouthing, “What should we do?"

  "Get lost.” Carla jumped in, looking down her nose at them. “We don't want any."

  Mandy frowned. Danni winced and hope died in the men's friendly faces. To hell with the show! She didn't care if the cameras were on them or that they were supposed to wait for Matthew and Jack. She knew it had taken a lot of courage for the guys to approach their group and wasn't about to disappoint.

  "Can't you take a hint?” Carla rounded on them. “Go away. Bull herding is in the next state."

 

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