She Does Know Jack

by Michaels, Donna

  “I can see it’s going to be one of those days.”

  Danni sent her an apologetic look, and Brielle smiled, knowing she’d been through worse. Squaring her shoulders, she followed Danni into the living room, and stopped dead.

  Bill was not alone.

  Jack lounged in the chair next to the producer, hands behind his head, a relaxed expression on his handsome face. As his gaze settled on her, he raised a brow and slowly smiled.

  “Oh.” Brielle blinked, surprised as well. The jury was still out on the pleasant part. Maybe if she’d been wearing more than a silk robe. For the first time in her life, she had an attack of modesty. Which was completely and utterly stupid. The man had seen her naked. Sort of. He’d seen Ariel naked. And despite the couple pounds she’d gained, it was still her he’d seen. Just a thinner version. And damn, she really had to fight the urge to use her arms to cover her chest.

  And that ticked her off.

  Red-faced, Bill leaped to his feet and had the decency to look away, but not Jack. Hell no. With a broadening grin, the bugger slowly lowered his arms to fold them across his chest and stare openly at her.

  Dodger.

  His gaze raked her from head to toe, lingering on her tingling parts, turning her knees to jelly and her heart into a Hemi engine. And she didn’t even want to discuss her nipples. Traitors.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go get dressed now.” Congratulating herself for keeping her tone light, she sent the smiling contestants a look. “It seems my roommates conveniently forgot to mention your visit this morning.”

  “Yes, of course,” Bill stammered. “You go ahead and get dressed. We’ll wait for you.” He dropped back into his chair, clearing his throat.

  Not Jack. No. The grinning bastard’s gaze stuck to her like cat fur on black clothing.

  She swallowed, then turned on her heel and forced her unsteady legs to walk, as nonchalantly as possible, up the stairs. Wonderful way to start the day. Could it get any worse? Probably. Reaching her room, she shook her head at the cameraman and shut the door. The public caught more than an eyeful all morning and didn’t need to watch her dress.

  As she walked toward her bed, the faint odor of nail polish tickled her nose. Odd. She hadn’t brought any. Okay, it’s official, she was losing it. Jack Dodger Anderson was on the premises less than five minutes and already her brain was mush. Get it together, girl. She groaned and slumped onto the bed. He’s only a man.

  A very handsome, sexy, capable man. Why the heck did he have to be Matthew’s brother?

  It didn’t matter, she told herself for the twentieth time. She could handle it. And she would handle it. No way would she allow another man to compromise her ability to perform her duties. Ever again.

  Brielle rose to her feet and, head held high, walked to her closet, threw open the doors and gasped.

  Chapter Four

  Ruined.

  Brielle clenched her teeth and swallowed down an angry curse. Her clothes were ruined. Every scrap. Her gaze snapped from garment to garment, taking in the red streaks covering her wardrobe. Now she knew where the smell of nail polish had come from. She sucked in a breath, trying desperately to remain calm. Her favorite top and dress were among the casualties. And she’d just bought them. Dammit.

  Her mind also registered the haphazard tears in her clothing. A chill ran down her spine. They weren’t symmetrical or calculated. No. A quick, violent stroke had sent a blade into each piece. She carefully backed out of the closet to inspect the clothes in her dresser. Ruined, too.

  She brought the case files to mind. None of the other contestants’ belongings had ever been attacked. Was she the only one now, or did their closets bear the same artwork? If not, why had her addition to the show suddenly escalated the threats?

  Her gaze bounced around the room. Thanks to the no-camera rule, none of the havoc had been caught on tape.

  Brielle jerked the door open and pushed past the cameraman to peer down at the chatting crowd. Which one had done this? She gripped the railing, its smooth surface cooling her heated palms as she eyed the women. Sliding her hands back and forth, she allowed the motion to calm her anger before she spoke.

  “Bill, we seem to have a slight problem,” she called down, catching Jack’s frowning stare.

  Bill jumped to his feet, followed by Jack. “What kind of problem?”

  “I don’t seem to have a thing to wear.” She eyed the three girls, all looking up at her with straight faces. Were they all involved? One? Two? None?

  Bill stopped mid-stride, clipboard dangling at his side. “Look, if this is some kind of hissy fit—”

  “I don’t do hissy fits.” She cut him off, needing to get to the point. “An hour ago I had plenty to wear, but now...” She paused, her gaze snapping to each of the women. “I do not.”

  A look of alarm crossed Jack’s face. “What’s wrong?” he asked, taking the stairs two at a time.

  “See for yourself.” She pointed to her room, but waited in the hall for Bill and the girls, wanting to read their expressions when they saw her clothes.

  “Oh my.” Bill backed out of her closet a minute later. “How did this happen?”

  “Beats me. I was downstairs cooking.” She exchanged a look with Jack, who, like her, eyed the contestants as they surveyed the damage.

  Danni’s fingers flew to her mouth. “Who would do such a thing?”

  “Don’t look at me,” Carla said with a wave of her hand. “I was in my room getting dressed.”

  “So was I.” Mandy shook her head as she peered into the closet, then added, “We all were.”

  Jack leaned his back against the wall, arms crossed. “Very convenient.”

  “Oh, come on.” Bill frowned, his gaze bouncing to the contestants. “Surely you don’t think one of these girls did this?”

  “Who else has access?” Jack straightened, staring at the producer through narrowed eyes.

  “Um…well…” Bill cleared his throat, tugging his collar. “No one, actually.”

  Carla stepped closer. “That’s not true. The front door was unlocked. Anyone could’ve come in.”

  “Unlocked?” Bill’s eyes widened. “Why? You girls are supposed to keep it locked and the alarm set at all times.”

  “We do, Bill, honest,” Danni insisted.

  “Yeah,” Carla agreed, gaze dropping to the floor. “But it was my fault, today. I forgot to lock it after the groceries were delivered this morning.”

  “Are you sure? Because it was locked when we got here.”

  Jack’s gaze narrowed on the contestants, and Brielle fought to suppress a shiver at his cool tone. At the moment, the man could frost windows.

  A flush covered Mandy’s cheeks as she gazed down at the floor, too. “That’s because I locked it as you drove up the driveway.”

  Oh boy. Now Brielle had to fight the urge to palm her forehead. The women certainly weren’t making the case any easier. No wonder it was still unsolved.

  “Well, that’s about to change,” Jack said in a clipped tone. “It’s too dangerous to proceed with this show if you ladies are going to blatantly ignore security procedures.”

  Understatement of the year. Pull the plug, her mind screamed, but the investigator in her…the puzzle solver wouldn’t allow her to voice the words. She needed to help solve this case. Needed to prove to herself that she could trust her own judgment.

  “We won’t ignore them anymore, will we girls?” Danni placed a hand on the other contestants’ shoulders. “We promise we’ll keep the doors locked from now on.”

  “Yes. That’s right. We will. Please don’t send us home.” Tears had filled Mandy’s eyes at the mention of halting production.

  Brielle couldn’t tell if they were as fake as the woman’s boobs or as genuine as the concern in Jack’s gaze.

  Bill whipped out his cell phone. “Don’t worry about a thing, Ms. Bennett. I’ll have wardrobe send over some clothes.”

  Send over? Oh, hell no.
>
  “Can’t I just get some from home?” The last thing she wanted was the show picking out outfits for her to wear on national TV. She could see it now, tight, low cut tops, short shorts, even shorter skirts barely covering her happy junction. Yeah, letting the studio clothe her was not Brielle’s idea of comfort.

  “The rules state no one is to leave until they’re sent home.” Bill gave her an apologetic look. “I’ll have them here within the hour.”

  “The rules never stated it was open season on my wardrobe, either.” Careful to keep emotions out of her voice, she regarded the man calmly while simmering inside. She’d just played right into the perpetrator's hands. How could she let that happen? Yanking her sash tighter, she lifted her chin. It wouldn’t happen again.

  “Well, in the meantime, you can borrow something of mine,” Danni offered.

  “Wait!” Jack’s hand shot out, blocking the teacher’s exit. “All of you downstairs in the living room where the cameras can see you. Now.”

  “Why?” Danni’s brows formed a V in the middle of her forehead.

  “The rooms need to be searched.”

  Yes, and she wanted to search them. But how?

  Jack stepped back and allowed the contestants to leave. “Not you, Brielle.” Strong fingers clasped around her elbow. “You stay here."

  A thrill shot up her arm and sizzled down her back. The sensation had nothing to do with Jack’s touch and everything to do with being able to look inside the suspects' rooms, she tried to reason.

  Chewing on her bottom lip, she stood to the side, and watched the grumbling women head downstairs with the producer in tow. Her mind jumped back to Jack. How should she act?

  Should she become hysterical and cling to him? She eyed the man’s stern profile. Pressing into his fine form certainly had its merits. Hard, hot, muscled merits. Ones she remembered all too well. But, no, she couldn’t, even if she wanted to. She didn’t do clingy.

  “I wonder if I’m the only one whose closet went through a make-over.” She pushed her still damp hair over her shoulder. “Maybe the other contestants’ clothes shared the same fate.”

  Blue eyes stared back, studying her a moment. Damn, he was good. She got nothing. He gave nothing away.

  “I doubt it, but there’s only one way to find out.” He motioned for her to precede him down the hall. “At least your robe and nightgown were spared.”

  “Nightgown? What nightgown? I’ve only got this robe.” She yanked the sash tighter again, and smiled when he stiffened.

  His sideways glance held a mixture of concern and a familiar heat. “Do I want to know why?”

  “I’d just stepped from the shower—”

  “Never mind.” He visibly swallowed as he continued down the hall.

  Feeling guilty about her role in the investigation and her orders to keep him in the dark, she intended to help whenever possible and saw no reason she couldn’t share her thoughts. The concern that had darkened his beautiful eyes to a deep cobalt had been real when he’d first spotted her shredded clothes. Sharing her thoughts was the least she could do, and didn’t break her promise to his parents or her uncle.

  “Actually, it is probably important.” Lowering her voice, she filled the former Ranger in on her morning activities. “So you see, even though Mandy had been in my room to get my microphone, all three had plenty of time to paint and shred.” She frowned, then added, “So did you.”

  “Me?” He stopped dead, his voice rising in surprise as he turned to face her. “Why would I ruin your clothes?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe you don’t like me. Maybe you don’t like your brother. Maybe you don’t like my choice of clothes.” She shrugged. “I’m just pointing out the fact I was in the kitchen and had no idea how long you were in this house.”

  He leaned close, forcing her to back into the wall or make body contact. Intimidation never worked on her…until now. She hit the wall with a thud, tipping her head back to meet his gaze, noting how different the angle was without her heels. The man towered a good half foot over her, his eyes hard like blue steel. But damn, he smelled great.

  Mmm…a summer day after it rained.

  “Let me make one thing clear, Ms. Bennett. I don’t know you and don’t give a damn about your wardrobe choice, but I do give a damn about Matthew. He’s my brother. I’m here to protect him and, by God, that’s what I’ll do.” He straightened, never breaking eye contact. “As for me, I arrived with Bill and stayed with him the whole time. Why don’t you ask him?”

  “No need.” She smiled sweetly. I’ll check the feed later. Her gut told her he didn’t do it, but she couldn’t listen to her gut where Dodger was concerned. At least, not yet.

  “What about you?” He eyed her warily. “Maybe you ruined your clothes as a way to gain my brother’s sympathy.”

  She threw her head back and laughed. “Yeah, my goal is to walk around naked under a thin robe on national television.”

  His gaze dropped to her heated body, lingering on her beaded nipples doing their damndest to reach out to him in a good morning salute. Traitors. Slowly, and ever so nerve-wracking, his gaze lifted to fasten on her mouth. Smoldering blue eyes instantly evaporated her amusement and tripled her pulse.

  “Well…” She cleared her throat and worked to get back on track. “If you didn’t do it, and I didn’t do it, I wonder which of the girls did.” Pushing her hair back again, she reverted to playing her role. “Are contestants always this aggressive on these shows?”

  He hesitated as if trying to decide how much to tell her. “I don’t know. This is my first one,” he replied before they resumed their trek. “And last.”

  An hour later, Brielle returned with Jack to her bedroom with disappointment souring her gut. Nothing had been out of place in the three rooms they’d examined. Even Carla’s nail polish had appeared untouched with not enough missing to warrant the rampage of Brielle’s clothes. In a nutshell, the search had been a flop.

  The only surprise had been Carla’s caged, six-foot albino python. Jack had glanced at her as if expecting an ear-splitting scream to burst from her mouth. But Brielle didn’t mind snakes. Or lizards or frogs. Now, spiders—whole different story. If there had been a tarantula, her barely clothed ass would’ve been out of the mansion and half way to Canada before he could blink.

  “We’re still at square one.” He dropped into a chair near her fireplace and expelled a long breath. “My team, along with some people from DeMarco Investigations, should be here soon to dust for prints and do a thorough search.”

  “Yes, Bill explained you were here to keep an eye on your brother while DeMarco investigated the threats.” She settled into a seat across from him, hoping he’d share something enlightening.

  He stilled. “Threats? I never mentioned anything about a threat.” Eyes narrowed, his gaze bore into hers, watching—waiting.

  “No, but Bill told me about them when he gave me the choice to opt out of the show. He said all contestants were made aware of the threats.” Shoot, she needed to be more careful with her word choices. She tilted her head and changed the focus. “I wasn’t aware you had a double agenda, though.”

  He sat back without breaking eye contact. “I'm here to help my brother in more ways than one.” His gaze dropped to her legs, and her bare skin instantly heated.

  Damn, the man was potent. Resisting the urge to tuck them under and out of his view, she eased to her feet to stand behind the chair, instead. “Matthew is lucky to have such a caring brother.”

  Amusement crinkled the corner of his eyes and lifted his mouth. Her pulsed kicked up a notch at the astonishing transformation.

  Dodger.

  “I tell him that all the time,” he said, unaware of the havoc he caused.

  Her gut sounded the alarm. This laid-back Jack posed more of a threat than the intense one. She needed to break the connection forming between them before she did something stupid, like give into the attraction. Again. Cripes, it was tough to fathom she�
��d had a one night stand. She didn’t do that. Didn’t have sex with strangers. No matter how hot. She wasn’t weak. What had she been thinking?

  That’s just it. She hadn’t been thinking. Just feeling. The damn sexy Ranger made her feel a whole lot of things, but mainly one emotion she’d never experienced. Ever. Lust. And boy did he bring that out in her. In spades. In copious amounts. Dangerous amounts. The ache, the fierce need was completely new and freakin’ annoying.

  She flicked back her unruly hair—and matching emotions—then headed across the room. Her mind functioned much better with distance involved. The man was making himself at home in her thoughts and it had to stop.

  “I can’t believe someone did this to my things,” she called over her shoulder, striving to appear as if she left him in order to re-examine her closet. Which actually, wasn’t a lie. She did want another look. Hell, she wanted to get to work. Needed to get to work.

  What was taking his team so damn long?

  Her palm itched to process the room. It sucked. She had access to the required equipment, but because of her promise to keep her identity from Jack, she couldn’t do that part of her job.

  With her jaw clenched in disgust, she entered the closet, then stopped when a splash of yellow caught her eye. Another note. Alarm reawakened adrenaline and her mind quickly rewound the previous hour. Had Jack been out of her eyesight long enough to drop the paper? Possibly. The contestants? Definitely.

  “Jack.” She backed out of the closet and regarded him closely. “I think you’d better come here.”

  Frown creasing his brow, he jumped to his feet. “What is it? What’s wrong?” His long stride brought him to her within seconds.

  She pointed to the closet floor.

  “Damn! That wasn’t there before.”

  “No. It wasn’t.”

  Moving out of his way, she watched him drop to his knees and use his pen to pick up the folded note. His actions appeared real and not that of the culprit. But looks could be deceiving. She held back a smirk. Yeah, deceiving like her, pretending to be Little Miss Dance Instructor.