Meet Your Mate

by Donna Michaels

  "Here we are,” Jack said, releasing her into the salon where Matthew, Danni and Mandy stood along with Bill and several cameramen. She moved away, letting go of the tremor she'd held back.

  "Good morning, ladies, and gentleman.” Bill placed his clipboard on the table beside a tray of fresh fruit and a magnum of chilling champagne. “You're luggage is being taken to your rooms. There are over fifteen cabins on this vessel so if you don't like the one you're assigned, by all means, find another."

  "Oh, I'm sure that won't be a problem.” Mandy turned an inviting gaze on Matthew.

  "And here are your seasick bands. Just put them on like this.” Slipping one on his wrist, Bill demonstrated the correct positioning. “This plastic nub will maintain a constant light pressure on your Nei-Kuan pressure point and keep any seasickness at bay."

  "How is that possible?” Danni eyed a colorful terrycloth band.

  "It utilizes the ancient art of acupressure,” Brielle replied, grabbing a pair and slipping them on. A similar set at home had accompanied her on the fishing boat last year and had remained on her wrists until she'd cracked the smuggling ring wide open. Not once had she suffered seasickness. Brielle glanced at the silent former Ranger. Her lips twitched. I wonder if they work on Jack-ass-sickness?

  "Exactly. Now, are there any questions before I go?” Lowering his chin, Bill looked over his glasses at them.

  "I have one.” Mandy moved closer to Matthew. “Are you sure it's safe?"

  "Perfectly.” Bill directed a look at Jack. “Some of your men are staying on board, aren't they?"

  "Yes, three of my men are settling in as we speak.” He held his hand up when Bill opened his mouth. “Before you say it, I know, they'll keep out of the way. They've got their orders to remain on the bottom deck with the crew unless I call them."

  "Good. So, if there's nothing else?” The producer glanced around the silent group, then nodded. “Okay, have some champagne. Enjoy yourselves. I'm off. Bon Voyage."

  "You're not staying?” Brielle tilted her head. She saw Jack's eyes narrow on her but ignored him. “I thought the producer always stayed with the show?"

  "Normally, yes, but my kid's turning ten this weekend and we're having a big party. So, you guys are on your own.” He shrugged. “Well, except for the cameramen, the ship's crew and Jack's men, of course."

  She nodded, glancing at Jack. “Of course."

  "We'll see you Sunday evening.” Bill waved from the doorway, then disappeared.

  "I think a toast is in order.” Matthew stepped to the table, poured them each champagne, then passed out the flutes. “To calm seas."

  "To calm seas,” they echoed, clinking their glasses.

  Brielle reached for a strawberry as the yacht pitched forward. Taking a bite, she felt Jack's gaze and the sweet fruit's taste turned to cardboard. Sparing him a glance, she popped the rest into her mouth and watched him drain his glass before he moved away from the table.

  "Let's get this party started,” Danni said, wiping her hands on a napkin. “What are we going to do first? Hot tub? Jet Ski? Swim?"

  Matthew smiled. “They all sound good to me, but first, we should check out our cabins, and then we can change into our bathing suits and meet topside."

  "Oh, listen to you, talking all nautical.” Mandy set her glass on the table to brush her hand over Matthew's chest. “Next, you'll be speaking like a pirate."

  "No.” Matthew laughed, pointing to his brother. “I'll be leaving the pirating to Jack."

  "Gee, thanks, Matey, but do you mean me?” Jack paused, swaying as he looked around, hands up for balance, mimicking a popular movie character. “Or is there a monkey on board I don't know about?"

  Mandy's face lit up. “A monkey? Is there really a monkey on board? Where? I love monkeys!” She twisted around to search the room.

  "No, Mandy, there's no monkey.” Jack shook his head.

  "It was a joke,” Danni said, patiently. “Haven't you seen that movie with Jack, the pirate?"

  "No.” Mandy's eyes grew wide and nearly fell out of her head. “Jack! You were in a movie?"

  Brielle bit her lip, trying not to laugh at the poor, clueless woman. She liked Mandy and didn't want to offend her.

  "No, Mandy.” Danni dropped her arm around the blonde and directed her toward the stairs that led to the deck below. “Jack was the name of the pirate in a movie."

  "Oh. So does that mean there's no monkey?” Mandy pouted.

  "No, hon. There's no monkey,” Danni replied, their voices growing fainter as they headed down to the cabins.

  Brielle glanced at Jack, catching a glimpse of longing in his blue eyes before they turned guarded. She stiffened, hating that she still found him attractive despite the fact he accused her of being superficial. If she wasn't careful, her intelligence might soon rival the blonde's.

  "It's going to be an interesting weekend,” Matthew stated, then trailed after the women, leaving her alone with Jack.

  They stared at each other in strained silence. She should leave. The things he'd said and thought about her were unforgivable. He owed her a huge apology. But their other times together—the laughter, the kisses and the dance they'd shared, kept her feet rooted to the floor. She should say something—anything to break the quiet. Her mouth opened her but her heart wouldn't let her mind form words.

  "I guess we'd better go below with the others.” He motioned toward the door, his tone ... neutral.

  Nodding, she walked ahead of him aware of his gaze upon her as they made their way to the cabins. There he goes again with those mixed signals.

  "This one's yours, Brielle,” Matthew said when she approached. “It's right next to mine."

  Some kind of emotion flashed through Jack's eyes as he stopped and looked at her from the opened doorway across the hall. “Brielle, would you mind switching rooms with me? I'd feel better if I were next to my brother. You know, for safety?"

  She compressed her lips. Rubbish! It had nothing to do with safety and everything to do with her being too close to Matthew. “Sure, no problem. Let me get my things.” She chastised herself for not refusing. Now she couldn't keep an ear on Matthew.

  "I'll help.” The artist followed her into the huge room.

  "Wow.” She twirled around, surprised by the polished wood, thick champagne-colored carpeting and long mirrored closet. Opening the door on the opposite wall, she found a huge bathroom complete with a Jacuzzi. She swallowed and blocked out thoughts of Jack in the oversized tub. “Are all the rooms like this one?"

  "Yes. Isn't it something?” Matthew grabbed the black duffle bag from the bed and whispered, “Here, your uncle sent this."

  "Thanks.” She winked just as Jack walked into the room, luggage in hand.

  Wordlessly, she stepped around him with Matthew in tow. Carrying her luggage, he followed her across the hall to an identical room and placed her things on the bed.

  "If there's anything else I can do for you, just let me know,” he said loud enough for the whole harbor to hear.

  "Thanks. I'll keep that in mind.” She nodded, her nose registering Jack's spicy scent lingering in the room.

  "I'll see you topside. We're going to pick names for jet-ski racing as soon as we're out of the bay,” Matthew called from the doorway.

  "Okay. I'll be up shortly.” She smiled, then sobered when her gaze collided with Jack's. He watched, unamused, from his room.

  Jaw clamped, she fought the urge to stick her tongue out at him. He looked like a pirate, with his watch-your-step-around-me-or-I'll-make-you-walk-the-plank eyes. And yet, his body, his posture told her he longed to forget everything and ravish her their entire time at sea.

  She swallowed her heartache. As incredible as that would be, she couldn't forget Jack saw her in a poor light. He was only doing his job. But hadn't she given him the benefit of the doubt, despite actual evidence? Why couldn't he do that for her?

  Closing the door on him and the foolish emotions he spurred, she quickly unpacke
d, then emerged ten minutes later in her brown bikini.

  "Oh, Brielle, good. I'm glad you didn't go up yet.” Mandy bumped into her in the hall.

  Shoot. She'd thought everyone else had gone topside and was hoping to bug the girls’ rooms.

  "I was beginning to panic. This ship is so big, I'd probably get lost, and it'd take me days to find everyone. I'm not good with direction."

  There's a shock. Brielle chastised herself for being catty and smiled at the blonde. “There's a blueprint on the back of your door. It should help you out."

  She didn't need it. Uncle Franco had emailed the blueprints to her yesterday, and she'd spent the night memorizing the ship's layout.

  "Oh, is that what that was?” Mandy blinked. “I thought it was a poor drawing."

  She swallowed a groan as they walked up the stairs. It was going to be a long weekend.

  "There you two are. We're about to pick names for our alternating teams.” Matthew stood in his Hawaiian print bathing suit holding a glass with slips of paper visible inside.

  "Is that for those jet thingies?” Mandy asked, distaste wrinkling her nose.

  "Yes.” He led the way to the sun deck.

  "Don't bother putting my name in. I don't like them.” The blonde settled onto a chaise and stretched out with a sigh. “You all go ahead. I'll stay here and catch some rays."

  Brielle glanced at the woman. You all? That wasn't California dialect. Mandy's file said she was born and raised in Santa Barbara. Did the blonde just slip up? She'd have to have some pretty high connections to create an identity that would fool Uncle Franco. Then again, the way the blonde liked movies, she could've picked up the southern expression from the big screen.

  Matthew hesitated, disappointment crossing his features before he shrugged. “Okay. Looks like we have even teams, then."

  "Good. I'm going with you.” Danni grasped Matthew's hand and pulled him down the stairs to the water deck and waiting Jet Skis.

  Brielle looked at Jack, naked except for his red and black trunks. She'd refused to allow her eyes to feast ... until now. Her mouth watered. The sun cast shadows over the muscled ridges of his chest and abs, and kissed the military tattoo on his right bicep.

  "Guess that means you're stuck with me, Brielle.” Sarcasm masked something she couldn't define in his voice.

  "I guess it does.” She walked down to the water's edge, eager to get the race over with.

  Jumping into the ocean, she swam to the Jet Ski and climbed on. She'd rather be the driver. The thought of having to hold onto Jack's perfect form, caused her broken heart to flutter. She was not going to go there.

  That's what she thought.

  After suffering through the first race with Jack's hands on her waist and his index fingers making circles over her hips and belly, she was ready to swim back to port. But Matthew had other ideas, stating it wouldn't be fair not to give Jack and Danni, the passengers, a chance to drive. So, here she was, clinging to Jack, his incredible body hot under her hands.

  The urge to get a rise out of him overtook Brielle. Scooting closer, she pressed her torso into his warm back, and he promptly stiffened. Satisfaction shot through her until his nearness converted her triumph into desire.

  The entire race went by in a blur. Blood thundered in her ears harder than their Jet Ski pounding the waves. As soon as they won, and Jack brought their ride to a halt, she released her hold on him and jumped into the water. The ocean cooled her jets and brought her pulse back to earth.

  "Don't think I'm going to let you get away with that.” He grabbed her from behind and held her torso immobile under the ocean. His free hand skimmed the side of her breast, her waist, over her hip and thigh, as far as he could reach, before slowly starting back up.

  Her core contracted, diminishing her ability to breathe. Water, lapping around her sensitized flesh, enhanced his delicious stimulations and sparked a deeper—more primal craving. Damn! He didn't play fair. Leaning back against him, she grabbed his trunks and twisted the hem in her fist as she fought to stay in control.

  Vaguely aware of the approaching Jet Ski, she felt Jack stiffen before his hands yanked her hard, pulling her under the water as Danni and Matthew raced over them.

  When they surfaced, Brielle coughed and pulled in a breath while Jack sputtered between curses.

  Matthew took over the controls and steered the Jet Ski back toward them. “Are you two all right?” He and Danni looked at them with concern.

  "Yes,” she managed to say between coughs.

  Jack nodded and gazed at Danni through narrowed eyes. “Mind telling me what the hell just happened?"

  Her brows knit together and her lower lip trembled. “I'm sorry. The throttle stuck, and if Matthew hadn't unjammed it...” Her voice trailed off, and tears glistened in her eyes.

  "It's okay, Danni. It wasn't your fault,” Matthew soothed, driving toward the yacht.

  Jack still had a death grip on her waist. With supreme effort, she ignored her body's reaction and concentrated on what her brain was trying to compute.

  Danni could be telling the truth, and the throttle had stuck—or she could be lying. Then there was the matter of the intended target: Matthew or her and Jack, sitting ducks in the water. Teeth clenched, lips pursed, she punched the water and swallowed an oath. There were too many variables.

  "It's all right. I've got you.” Jack's grip tightened as he swam with her to the deck, mistaking her pissed-off reaction for fear.

  She had been perfectly capable of swimming but told herself staying quiet was for her cover and not the prolonged pleasure of Jack's touch.

  "Bring Brielle to me. I'll help her out of the water.” Matthew reached his hand forward.

  "What's all the commotion?” Mandy appeared at the top of the steps.

  "Nothing.” Danni pushed her wet hair over her shoulder with trembling fingers.

  Brielle watched Jack hitch their Jet Ski to the yacht, hop onto Danni's and take it for a ride.

  "It was just an exciting finish to the race,” she heard Matthew say.

  She snorted. Everything about that race had been exciting, not just the finish. Although ... She shook her head. Distance. She needed to keep her distance from Jack.

  And he was right. The culprit was getting more aggressive. She needed to keep on top of her game. Maybe should could ask Jack to leave the show? She snickered as he opened up the throttle and then brought the Jet Ski to an unhindered halt.

  "Doesn't appear to have anything wrong with it,” she observed, quietly.

  "Nope.” He hitched it next to the other one and hopped onto the deck. Water sluiced down his body and seemed to pour straight into her drooling mouth.

  She swallowed. “Maybe it was just a coincidence."

  He nodded, then raised a brow. “And maybe not."

  * * * *

  That evening, Jack entered the candlelit dining room, surprised to find it empty, except for Matthew having a drink at the corner bar.

  "Hi, Bro."

  "Hi, Matthew. Am I early?” Winding through a maze of round tables covered in crisp white linen, an incident during his deployment to the Middle East came to mind.

  A high and intense sun turned the sand pristine—giving a false sense of calm to the dunes, which hid the enemy in plain sight from him and his men. Was this candlelit room rigged for romance or to lull them into that same false sense of calm? He scanned the area. Two chairs weren't pushed completely in, three candles were almost out and only one table was set for dinner. Everything else appeared normal.

  His spine prickled. He knew better than most how quickly normal could turn deadly. That would not be the case here. Rubbing his tattooed bicep, Jack pasted calm on his features and joined his brother behind the bar.

  "No. You're not early.” Matthew grinned, sliding an opened bottle toward him. “You know women, they need time to primp. But it's well worth the wait."

  He nodded, pouring himself a heavy hand of scotch. “I'm glad we have a minute.�
�� He recapped the bottle, then lifted his drink. “I want you to tell me what really happened on that Jet Ski."

  "Exactly what Danni said. The throttle stuck.” His brother frowned, shaking his head as he stared at the liquid in his glass. “It took several attempts until I got it to respond."

  "Funny. I didn't seem to have any trouble with it.” Jack took a long drink before placing his glass down on the bar.

  "Yeah, I saw that.” Matthew drained his drink. “Maybe my made up game will help."

  Jack frowned. “Made up game?"

  "Yeah. After dinner tonight, I'm going to initiate a sort of truth or dare game I've created.” He pulled out a stack of index cards from his suit pocket and fanned them. “I've written questions and a few dares on these, hoping to gain some insight into these women, and who knows,” he winked, slipping the cards back in his pocket, “maybe you will too."

  He scratched his chin. This could be beneficial. “Good idea, Matthew.” He already knew Brielle's secret—and that she was a liar. This game could give him some insight into Mandy and Danni, though. Was the blonde really clueless? Had the teacher made the phone call from the stadium and tried to run them over this afternoon? If so, had she been aiming for Brielle? Him? Or attempting to scare Matthew?

  "Are we late?” Danni asked, breezing in with Mandy by her side.

  "Nope. You're right on time.” Matthew crossed the room and kissed their cheeks. “You both look lovely."

  "Thank you.” Mandy blushed as Matthew offered her a seat on his right at the dining table. He pulled out the chair on his left for Danni.

  Jack was still trying to figure out which girl his brother liked when his body's nerve endings jumped to life. Without looking, he knew Brielle had entered the room. His glass stopped in midair when his gaze found the leggy bane of his existence.

  A vision in a strapless navy blue dress, she wore her dark hair twisted into a knot and secured with some type of clip. Her skin glowed from their afternoon in the sun, making her brown eyes even sexier and her glossy lips an outright temptation. Damn! He hated the tightness in his chest. Why did she have to be the one bullet he couldn't dodge? She was a plant. Still, his lips longed to kiss the curve of her neck and charge a path all the way down to her toes. His mouth watered, remembering her flavor—hot and sweet. But he refused to be a ratings booster, no matter how enticing the woman looked. Ripping his gaze away, he tossed back the rest of his drink and killed the memory with liquor.