“Please don’t think I’m being forward, but to keep up appearances...” The groom tugged her closer. “I need to kiss you.”
Before she could form an opinion, he covered her lips with his own. His gentle, non-threatening touch was easy to bear. It was nothing like the mind-numbing, sensory overload of his brother’s kiss. Thank God. One tempting Anderson brother was enough to handle.
She was about to pull away when Matthew lifted his head.
“I’m sorry, but I’ve kissed every contestant, and they’d find it odd if I hadn’t kissed you.” He placed her hand through his and walked her toward the mansion.
“I understand,” she reassured with a grin. “I’d hate for my cover to be blown before I even started.”
“Me, too.” His smile widened.
Glad to have replaced his worry with amusement, she decided to add one more remark. “Besides, I can’t leave until we have our hot tub scene, right?”
“Right. Heaven forbid we don’t fit that in.” He was still chuckling when they reached the patio door.
“How nice to see you getting on so well, dear brother.”
Jack’s sarcastic tone didn’t faze Matthew, and was far from lost on her. She bit her lip before her tongue had a chance to give into the raspberry that threatened. Wow. What had happened to her professionalism? Seemed to take a hike when Jack was around. Dammit.
“Oh, Brielle’s a keeper, Jack.” Matthew placed her hand in his brother’s, then winked before Mandy walked out to greet him.
“He’s lost his mind,” Jack muttered, dragging her past the contestants and into the study with a cameraman tripping over his feet to keep up. She eye-rolled the other girls. Their chuckles could be heard until Jack kicked the door shut with his foot.
Yanking her hand free, she rounded on him. “What in the world’s the matter with you? I don’t see you treating the others like this.” Jack’s behavior was certainly a lot different than Dodger’s. She was used to him looking at her with warmth and undisguised interest. Not annoyance.
Eyes narrowed, he stopped before her. A musky ocean scent filled her nose as she fought her body’s knee-weakening reaction. Damn. Okay. That hadn’t changed.
“I don’t treat the others like that because they haven’t given me reason.” Hot breath lifted the hair framing her face, while a cool, blue gaze dared her to speak.
She’d never backed down from a dare.
Hands on hips, she gave him the full extent of her stare, tipping her head back a little more since her heels were only two inches, not the five she’d been forced to wear at The Limelight. “What exactly have I done? You don’t even know me.”
Except, maybe in the carnal sense.
Crap. Was there a way to shut off her inner voice?
“Look, Ms. Bennett,” he spat her name like spoiled meat on a hot day. “I’m not interested in what you have to say because I’m telling Matthew to send you home tonight.”
His blue eyes flamed, but not in a good way. And they say women were confusing. As far as she was concerned, Jack reigned supreme.
“Why are you so mad? I haven’t done anything to warrant this behavior. I came on this show hoping for the best.” She waited for his expression to cool before she moved toward the wooden desk in the center of the cherry-paneled room. Resting on the edge, she pretended her mauve fingernails were the most fascinating things in the world.
He stepped in front of her, his presence demanding she look at him. “Why exactly did you come on this show, Ms. Bennett?”
She shrugged and tried to keep some truth in their conversation. “I wanted to meet your brother.”
“What for?”
“To learn origami.” Her hands shot in the air. “Why do you think?”
His gaze narrowed. He wasn’t amused. Too bad. Her presence on this show wasn’t for his amusement. But, she didn’t want to make his job harder, either.
She sighed. “Look, I know I can make your brother happy. Isn’t that what matters?”
“How?”
“What do you mean, how?”
He placed his hands on either side of her on the desk and leaned in. Ah hell. She stilled as déjà vu hit hard. His heat and strength seeped into her and she had to fight the urge to press against his muscles, bury her face into his neck.
“I meant by kissing him the minute you two were alone?”
She blinked. “You saw that? Well, you’re not very observant for—” Brielle stopped before she gave herself away. See? This wasn’t going to work. His nearness sucked the cells from her brain. Cripes. By the end of this mission she was going to be drooling and wearing a damn bib.
“Not observant for what?” His finger traced her jaw. “A man? That’s right, Ms. Bennett. I am a man. Maybe you’d like to kiss me, too?”
Been there. Done that. Yes, please!
Swallowing, she tried to hold down her desire and keep her mind on the job. A contestant here for Matthew would not be pleased with Jack’s pass.
She placed her palms on his impressive pecks and gave him a push so she could stand. “Look, Jack, I’m not sure what you’re getting at, but I’m not interested.” A complete lie of course, but a necessary one. With her pulse racing and body rigid, she stepped past him, anxious to clear the fog from her mushy brain.
Warm breath fanned her neck and back as strong fingers curled around her shoulder.
“Are you sure?”
She closed her eyes against the sweet vibrations spiraling down her torso. Oh, she wanted to kiss all right. But this was wrong. He shouldn’t be coming on to her. And why exactly had he been at The Limelight last year? Had he been an investigator or a patron? Her eyes flew open. One thing was certain, right here, right now. He was being a jerk! The delicious sensations stopped mid-stream, then bubbled into anger.
How dare he make a pass at his brother’s would-be girlfriend?
Unable to stop the scowl from curling her lips, she grasped his wrist, dropped to her knees while grabbing high on his arm with her free hand and used momentum to flip him over her shoulder. His sexier-than-he-had-a-right-to-be form hit the floor with a thump, and air gushed from his lungs in a grunt.
“You have some nerve, mister.” Straightening, she fixed her bodice, and glared down at his sprawled body. “Does your brother know you’re making passes at the contestants?”
Why do I always attract the jerks?
She’d hoped Dodger would be different. Wrong.
Disappointment soured her mouth, and the snickering cameraman did nothing to alleviate her mood. All of her Dodger fantasies just spiraled down the drain, dulling the brightness from their incredible liaison.
“Yes, he’s aware of it,” Jack replied, sitting up. “It’s part of our strategy to find him a loyal mate.”
She blinked. “Oh.”
All right. Maybe he wasn’t such a jerk. Maybe. She held out her hand and helped him to stand. Then had to order her body not to remember how his strong grip had felt on other parts of her flesh.
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” He smiled and released her to brush his clothes. “But I had to put you to the test.”
Test? He’d made her consider blowing her cover…over a test? She swallowed. “You’ve made a pass at all the contestants?”
He nodded.
“I see.” She suddenly wondered what the other women had done, then shook her head. None of her business.
“As I said, I hope it didn’t offend you.” He straightened his tie and stared.
Offended? No. Ticked off—yes. She tried to keep her anger in check. Part of her understood the reasoning, but the other part wanted to teach him a lesson.
“I’ll get over it. But if you try that again, I won’t be responsible for the outcome.”
“Oh?” His smile widened, and he folded his arms across his chest. “I suppose you know martial arts?”
“As a matter of fact, I hold two black belts. One in Tae Kwon Do and one in Kung Fu.” Shoot. Stupid Dodger-fo
gged brain. She shouldn’t have revealed that.
His arms dropped to his sides. “Son-of-a—”
“Hey,” she cut him off, holding up her hand. “You may regard yourself as the offspring of a female dog, but don’t call your mother names in front of me. I won’t stand for it,” she joked, deciding to try to keep him off balance by annoying him with silliness.
He glanced up at the ceiling and muttered.
She hid a smile. It was working. Hands behind her back, she tipped her head and glanced up at the ceiling, then turned to the camera and shrugged.
“Very funny, Ms. Bennett,” Jack scoffed, intolerance claiming his expression.
Okay, annoying Jack could actually prove to be fun.
“What’s with the Ms. Bennett? My name’s Brielle.” She pushed further. “I know you can say it. All you have to do is pucker your lips. Oh, wait—” She hit her knuckles off her head. “Maybe that’s too complicated for you.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re a regular comedienne. Do you have an act? You should be up onstage, entertaining people.”
His choice of words clogged the breath in her throat, and she began to cough.
“Are you all right?”
She shook her head and continued to choke.
“Here.” He swiped an unopened bottle of water from his desk and thrust it into her hand.
Brielle uncapped the lid and took a long drink. “Thanks,” she said when her voice returned.
“You’re welcome.” He crossed his arms again, his brilliant blue gaze raking her up and down. “Do you really hold two black belts?” He rubbed his chin when she nodded. “I suppose it helps you with balance in your dancing?”
“That and when some clod wants to do more than the tango.”
“I bet you get that a lot, Ms. Benn—Brielle,” he corrected with a smile. “You are a very beautiful woman.”
The rush of pleasure from his compliment compelled her to annoy him. She couldn’t afford to let a connection develop. Bad enough one was already there. Big time. She winked at the cameraman. “At least he got my name right.”
“He is right here.” Jack pointed to his chest.
“And so you are. Apology accepted.”
He frowned. “What are you talking about? I didn’t apologize.”
“True.” She placed the bottle on the desk, then sat on the corner and crossed her arms. “Go ahead. I’m waiting.”
“Waiting? Lady, are you nuts?” He stopped in front of her, deep frown marring his brow.
“No.” She smiled. “But I am crazy.”
This verbal sparring was the most exhilarating exercise she’d had in years. His bewildered gaze confirmed she had him off balance. Good. She couldn’t afford the alternative.
“I can see that.”
“If you’re done, we should go.” Ignoring his nearness, she glanced over his shoulder at the mantle clock. “I don’t want to give anyone the wrong impression.”
“No, we don’t want to do that,” he said, lifting a finger to brush away a curl stuck to her lip.
Funny, when Matthew had done that earlier, she’d found his touch to be innocent, brotherly—sweet. Nothing like the spine heating, core liquefying, take-you-to-the-edge touch of his brother. Her breath caught as his gaze and finger lingered on her mouth.
I’m here to help Matthew…I’m here to help Matthew, she silently chanted, hoping to slow her accelerated pulse. Too bad her body remembered Jack’s mind-blowing embrace. Did his remember hers?
“Why did you kiss my brother?”
She blinked. “W-what?”
“Why did you kiss Matthew?”
Trying to think proved impossible with his caressing finger fogging her brain. Was he jealous? That was ridiculous. She eyed his full lips and swallowed. She’d much rather kiss him.
“Did you enjoy it?”
Danger! Danger! Her internal alarm blared in her head. Once again, they were working on the same case, but from different angles. Maybe. She had yet to determine his role at The Limelight, or his purpose here for that matter. Security? To usurp his brother’s happiness?
Straightening her shoulders, she set her resolve and moved around him. Jack was a no-no, and a suspect. She dragged in a breath, then released it. “I think we should go.” With another gulp of air, she smoothed her gown and headed for the door.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he called from behind.
Brielle smiled as she walked back into the gathering room. “I know.”
Chapter Three
Jack knew trouble when he saw it. And the sexy brunette swaying from him as she left the study was five-foot-eight-inches of bedlam with a capital B. Chocolate brown eyes that could go from warm to cold in a blink. Soft brown hair he couldn’t resist touching. And those lips. Damn. They were full, and kissable, and son-of-a-bitch if he didn’t have the strongest urge to taste them. No woman had affected him that way. Not since that French dancer at The Limelight. At least Ariel had been friendly and pleasant, not prickly and crazy and…and just as sexy as hell. Damn.
Brielle Bennett was the most exasperating female he’d ever met. He jammed his fists into his pockets, and followed her from the room, lost in the debate over what held more appeal—throttling the woman or ravishing her until she called out his name in a throaty purr of satisfaction.
He jerked the study door closed behind him. Definitely the latter.
The scene before him didn’t make him feel any better. Christ. Why did he have the feeling this circus just turned into the three-ring variety?
A bevy of hopeful Mrs. Andersons surrounded Matthew, each laughing and batting their eyelashes as they vied for his attention in the middle of the room. Jack wedged his fists back into his pockets and refrained from shaking his head. He hoped Matthew knew what the hell he was doing.
In a crazy sort of way, he understood why his brother sought a companion through this extreme means. Like him, Matthew had never lacked for women, but Jack always seemed to pick the wrong type. His gaze bounced from one female to the next. He was beginning to think there was no right type.
Poor Matthew attracted gold-diggers like glitter to glue, while Jack tended to attract clinging vines. They twisted into his world so tightly, they stifled the breath from him until his life was no longer his own. But the worst were the liars.
Sighing, he steered clear of the circle and walked to the fireplace. It’d been nearly three years since he’d had a serious relationship. A thing of the past. He’d had his share of pain and refused to go down that road again. A bitter taste overtook his mouth and spawned a grimace.
Careful when it came to women, he knew which ones to avoid. If they looked to him to slay their dragons or had a need to smother him, he ignored their advances and continued with his safe, controlled, solitary life. That’s the way he liked it, but not Matthew. His brother still believed the right woman was out there for him, and decided this screwball of a show was the perfect way to meet his mate.
With a suppressed groan, he leaned against the mantle and surveyed the contestants again. He’d be damned if he’d allow Matthew to choose unwisely or, worse, end up dead.
Captain Jack “Dodger” Anderson—the nickname his squad had given him due to the number of bullets he’d dodged during the war—was used to adversity. Capable of surviving off the land and killing a human in more ways than he cared to admit, he’d been in many harrowing situations much worse than this. But this mission was different. It was personal. And he knew it would prove to be his toughest yet. Solving this case before someone got hurt or the show ended and the culprit got away would be the ultimate test.
So far, the damn cameras hadn’t caught anything useful, neither had old fashioned investigation. If only the contestants’ rooms had cameras. No doubt they’d have caught the perpetrator writing the damn threats. But privacy laws prohibited such use, unless the contestant granted permission. That would be a negatory. Jaw cracking from his clamping teeth, he acknowledged frustration w
as his constant companion.
He’d thought working undercover on the home-invasion case with the L.A.P.D. last year had been tough, and with so many sexy women... He frowned. Actually, that had been the one and only time he’d ever crossed the line and fraternized with a suspect.
Ariel.
Jack scratched his temple. Weird. Twice now, in five minutes Ariel had crossed his thoughts. Must be because a dancer had entered the show. Images of a mermaid tattoo flashed through his mind and brought a smile to his lips. Man, that redhead could dance. She’d had him stretched so thin it was a miracle he hadn’t snapped in two. Like her thong.
His body tightened at the memory of how incredible she’d felt wrapped around him after he’d entered her dressing room, then subsequently…her. Later on that night, he’d found one of her decorative seashells lodged in the waistband of his jeans. The shell now resided in the top drawer of his desk, a little memento of how incredible sex could be without involving the heart. Still, every so often, he wondered what’d happened to the French dancer.
His gaze drifted to an equally perplexing female.
Brielle.
Her brown eyes pulled him in and played havoc with his pulse while her sexy laughter tickled his ears and sent a hot spike to his groin. Christ. How could he have such a similar reaction to a woman the complete opposite of the warm dancer? Brielle was sassy, with dark eyes, mid-length brown hair, and not quite as thin. No. She had lush curves that made his mouth water and hands itch to touch and explore…
He sucked in a breath and purged the dangerous thoughts. What the hell was wrong with him? The woman could possibly be demented enough to threaten his brother. And he was lusting after her. What an idiot. Just because she showed up now didn’t leave her off the hook. Even though Franco said he’d checked her out and had reassured him she’d come out clean, Jack wasn’t convinced. No one was above suspicion in his book. If she was crazy, she could’ve found a way to sneak onto the set unnoticed and leave the threats. No, Ms. Bennett was very suspicious. Something wasn’t right about the Sacramento beauty and he intended to find out just what the hell that something was and deal with it.
She Does Know Jack Page 4
