“Jack, I have something to te—”
“It’s all right, Ms. Bennett. Save it,” he cut her off, hand in the air. “My mistake.”
The hateful look in his eyes closed her mouth.
“I knew you were hiding something, but I assumed it was your Ariel job. Guess it’s true what they say about assuming.” His bitter laugh filled the room. “I think we’re through, but before you go, I need you to rewrite this note.” Face set as if stone, he thrust a red marker at her.
Noticing, for the first time, a pile of yellow notes, the top one with Mandy’s name written in ink near the bottom corner, Brielle blinked her vision clear. Barely able to breath, heart hurting far more than she ever thought possible, she took the marker from his hand and did as requested. Her mind told her Jack was being a thorough investigator, but her heart screamed he should’ve trusted her.
“You do realize anyone could deliberately change their style of writing?” She placed the marker down and pushed her note toward him.
“Yes, that’s why these will be going to a handwriting analyst.” He scribbled her name on the bottom, then placed it on top of the pile. “Don’t try to be an investigator, honey. Stick with dancing. It’s what you do best.”
Gut quivering as if punched, she sucked in a breath. Where had Dodger gone? Where was the man who, not two hours ago had her crying out his name while he took her to heights she’d never known? The man who’d kissed her with a tenderness that had stolen her breath? The man who was filled with so much worry over the boat accident he couldn’t keep his hands off her? She swallowed past her tight throat and stared into his steely gaze. This wasn’t him. He wasn’t here. Perhaps she’d just imagined all those things with him because she wanted to.
So, now what? Should she give into the anger stiffening her spine? Or the hot tears burning her throat?
Neither.
She drew in a shaky breath. The two neutralized each other and flattened her voice. “I’m beginning to think that was the only thing you liked about me.” She held his gaze, then added, “Dodger.”
He cocked his head. “At least I’m honest. Tell me, Ms. Bennett—if that’s your real name—what are you, a plant from the studio? Were you going to try and pit me against my brother for ratings?” He shifted in his chair and glanced up at her. “What happened to your smart answers, Brielle? Did I hit home?”
Her gaze fell to his hat, sitting on the blotter. “You couldn’t be further from the truth.” Picking it up, she fought back tears, refusing to break down in front of him. She ran her finger over the name, each letter tightening the noose around her heart. “You’re more like your nickname than you think.”
He yanked the hat from her fingers. “And why is that?”
She swallowed past her hot throat and dropped her hands. “Because it’s more than bullets you dodge, Jack.”
Muttering a curse, he flung the hat across the room. She watched the cap land on the floor and skid to a halt near the door. Oh how she empathized. It felt as if he’d just discarded her the same way.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She turned back to face him. “It means you have commitment issues.” Placing her hands on the desk, she leaned toward him. “The minute things start to get serious; you grasp any excuse to halt your relationship.”
“Spare me the Freudian crap, Ms. Know-it-all,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. “I’d call a publicity seeker a legitimate excuse, wouldn’t you?”
“Publicity seeker? You don’t seriously think that’s what I am?” She frowned, shaking her head. Cripes. And here she’d thought he got her. Hell, he hadn’t gotten her at all. “Boy, someone really did a number on you. Why can’t you trust me? What in the world happened to you?”
“Trust you?” He sat back laughing, minus the mirth. “You’ve given me no reason to trust you, Brielle. And your intoxicating kisses don’t count—although, they did have me fooled.”
His words thrust a knife into her strangled heart. “I’m sorry you feel I was playing with you, Jack.”
“Well, weren’t you? Biding your time until Matthew noticed you, and having me to fall back on in case he didn’t? Surely, that’s what the limo was all about.”
The knife twisted further. She struggled to draw a breath. It felt like she was trying to suck in air through a straw glued to a brick wall. “Once you learned the truth, you’re going to regret those words.” Her voice was raw with emotion, but of course, he took it for the wrong kind.
Slowly rising to his feet, he leaned across the desk again, his face a mere inch from hers. “Is that a threat, Ms. Bennett?”
“No, Jack.” A tear ran down her cheek. Dammit. “It’s a fact.” Standing straight, she swiped at her face. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a date to accept.” Back turned to him, she walked across the room, stepped over his hat and out the door.
Twice now, she’d investigated reality television. Twice now, she’d fallen for someone on the show. Well, no more. Although Jack wasn’t the scum Grant was, the results proved the same thing—business and her personal life did not mix. Well, no more. Brielle Chapman was cured. With the personal part a dead issue, she was determined to solve this case, restore her confidence in her professional capabilities and get the hell off this damn show.
Chapter Thirteen
The producers needed their heads examined. Again.
How the hell many times was that thought going to cross her mind? Brielle slipped on her sandals and sighed. Apparently every time a date or outing was announced. They’d really lost their minds this time, though.
What were they thinking, throwing the five of them together on a yacht for the weekend? Out in the middle of nowhere. Surrounded by nothing but water. Idiots. Every stunt the producers came up with was more dangerous than the last.
“Brielle, are you ready?” Danni knocked on her door. “The limo will be here any minute now.”
“Yeah, just about.”
She grabbed her luggage and headed for the door. On the bright side, at least the yacht would be smaller than the mansions, and Uncle Franco had promised to send some bugs and recording equipment with Matthew. The cameras he’d sent after she won the shooting competition had yielded nothing. Zilch. Maybe this time she’d catch a break, and the case would be over by Monday. She didn’t think she could stand to be around Jack any longer. It’d been two days since he accused her of being a gold-digger. Two days, and the pain hadn’t lessened. It hurt just to be in the same room.
Okay, not going there. Again. She did the crying thing the other night despite the cameras in her room. But she was done. She was good.
God, she’d been lying for so long she was starting to lie to herself now.
Pasting on a smile, she opened the door. “Ready.”
“Wow, you look great.” Danni eyed her white shorts and navy and white tank top with envy. “I wish I filled out my clothes like that.”
Brielle laughed. “You do. You look wonderful.” Dressed in similar attire, the teacher really did look great.
“Wonderful? I need more than wonderful after your date with Matthew last night. You rendered both him and his brother speechless as you descended the stairs in that silver gown. It was stunning.”
A wry smile twisted Brielle's lips. Yeah, Jack had appeared stunned all right, and hostile. She shuddered. His antagonistic view toward her hurt terrible. “Funny, I got the impression Jack was happy to see me go.”
“Jack? He’s always neutral, never says anything,” Danni said, looping their arms as they headed downstairs. “But he wasn't his usual witty self. In fact, he was a bear, grumbling as we played pool. It’s a wonder the balls didn’t disintegrate, he smacked them so hard. And when we switched to darts? The way he impaled them into the dartboard, it’ll take pliers to remove them.” She winked as they reached the foyer. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve got him hooked, too.”
Brielle snorted. If Danni only knew. “Sure, I’ve got
him hooked. Hooked on thinking I’m after publicity.”
“Matthew thinks you’re after publicity?” Mandy approached in a stunning white and red sundress.
“Not Matthew, Jack,” Danni corrected, then turned saucer-like eyes on Brielle. “Did he really say that to you?”
“Yeah. The other night.” Her grip tightened on her bag. What the hell was wrong with her? Why was she discussing Jack?
Chimes echoed through the house, thankfully putting an end to their conversation.
An hour later, as she stepped off the plank and onto the triple-decker yacht, her stomach contained more knots than Jacob’s ladder. The men hadn’t been in the limo, they were apparently already on the yacht. Thank goodness. The thought of sitting in close quarters with Jack after their other…ride, even though they wouldn’t be alone, was too much for Brielle to handle. She hadn’t talked to him since their blow out and wasn’t eager to be thrown in his company again. Especially in the very vehicle where he’d…
Tilting her face to the sun, she closed her eyes and let the salty sea air calm her nerves. She was putting that behind her. Moving on.
“Hello, ladies. I’m looking forward to our weekend.” Matthew’s voice forced her eyes open. He stepped closer and greeted each of them with a kiss on the cheek.
“Oh, me, too. I just love yachts.” Mandy hooked her arm through his. That’s all the woman had talked about during their hour limo ride, thanks to Friday’s mid-morning traffic.
“And this one’s a beauty.” Danni claimed Matthew’s free arm, then smiled at his brother. “Hi, Jack.”
“Hello, Danni. Ladies.”
Her gaze met his, and her nerves lessened. That wasn’t so bad. No hostility, just a guarded, tolerant expression. She could deal with guarded. That hurt less. Not a lot less, but less all the same.
Danni turned toward them. “Jack, surely you wouldn’t mind escorting Brielle in?”
Would twenty years to life be worth it for strangling the teacher?
Yes, Brielle decided, returning the woman’s smile with a scowl. What was Danni trying to do—push her on Jack so Matthew would be free? Yes, she answered again, smacked in the face with the reminder this was a competition, not a circle of friends.
With all eyes on her, she had no choice but to take Jack’s arm. Ignoring the cameramen and their constant, in-your-face shots proved to be easier than ignoring the increase in her body temperature when her bared skin met Jack’s.
She glanced at him from under her lashes. Did he have to be so damn…hot? He looked sexy and unapproachable, like someone you should ignore, but couldn’t because you had to get a rise out of him. Her mouth watered, but common sense dictated she do nothing more than sweep her glance over his muscled body covered in a white, buttoned-down shirt and navy shorts. She refused to respond to a man who thought so little of her. Now, if only her body would get with the game plan.
“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 during their walk.
“Good morning, ladies, and gentlemen.” Bill placed his clipboard on the table beside a tray of fresh fruit and a magnum of chilling champagne. “Your 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. She wondered if they work on Jack-ass-sickness.
“Exactly. Now, are there any questions before I go?” Lowering his chin, Bill peered over his glasses at them.
“I have one,” Mandy asked, moving 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.
The urge to follow the producer burned through her limbs, but she managed to squash it down. She had a job to do, and she damn well better suck it up.
“I think a toast is in order,” Matthew said, stepping to the table to pour champagne before he 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. They were off. And so was she. She was so far off her game she was beginning to wonder if she’d ever find her way back. Taking a bite, she felt Jack’s gaze and the sweet fruit’s taste turned to cardboard. Lovely. She spared him a glance, 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?”
Brielle swallowed a groan. She’d rather find the culprit. Go home. And stay as far away from men as possible. Okay, not all men. Just the one making a fist with her heart crushed inside his palm.
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.”
Great, more bathing suit shots.
“Oh, listen to you, talking all nautical.” Mandy set her glass on the table and brushed her hand over Matthew’s chest. “Next, you’ll be speaking like a pirate.”
Matthew laughed. “No,” he said, pointing to his brother. “I’ll be leaving the pirating to Jack.”
“You mean me?” Jack swayed, 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.
Jack shook his head. “No. There’s no monkey.”
“It’s 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. It would really suck if the sweet hand model turned out to be the stalker.
“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 n
o monkey?” Mandy pouted.
“No, hun. There’s no monkey,” Danni replied, their voices growing fainter as they headed down to the cabins.
Brielle glanced at Jack, catching his gaze on her, a deep longing darkening 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. Bad body. 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 weren’t nice. He owed her a huge apology. But their other times together—the laughter, the kisses, the dance they’d shared and the sex…especially the sex, kept her feet rooted to the spot. She needed to say something—anything to break the quiet. Her mouth opened, but her heart wouldn’t allow her mind to form even one word.
“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. Holy crud. Talk about mixed signals. He had her turning from cold to hot in the space of one point two seconds.
“This one’s yours, Brielle,” Matthew said, when she approached. “It’s right next to mine.”
An unknown emotion flashed through Jack’s eyes as he stopped and stared 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. Bullshit. It had nothing to do with safety, and everything to do with her being too close to Matthew, otherwise, he would’ve already claimed the room before she’d arrived.
“Sure, no problem. Let me get my things.” Good going, Brielle. Why in the world did she just do that? She stepped inside, chastising herself for not refusing. Now she couldn’t keep an ear on Matthew. Idiot.
She Does Know Jack Page 20
