“I’ll help,” the artist offered sweetly and followed her into the huge room.
“Wow.” Brielle 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 and his wonderland of muscles in the oversized tub.
“I know. All the rooms are like this. Isn’t it something?” Matthew grabbed a black duffle bag from the bed and leaned close to whisper, “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. The groom followed her across the hall, carrying her luggage and the duffle to an identical room.
He 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.” Her nose registered Jack’s spicy scent lingering in the room. Her tummy clenched. Okay, it wasn’t exactly her tummy. The location was a little further south. But she wasn’t willing to acknowledge the traitor.
Matthew stopped in the doorway and rapped his knuckles on the wall as he smiled at her. “I’ll see you topside. We’re going to pick names for jet-ski racing as soon as we’re out of the bay.”
Oh goodie. She could hardly wait. Yes, yes she could.
“Okay. I’ll be up shortly.” She smiled, then sobered when her gaze collided with Jack’s as he watched unamused from his room.
She clamped her jaw and fought the urge to stick her tongue out at him. He really did look like a pirate with his watch-your-step-around-me-or-I’ll-make-you-walk-the-plank expression. And yet, his body, his posture told her he longed to forget everything and ravish her their entire time at sea.
Her legs nearly buckled. Bastard. 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, her mind insisted for the hundredth time since that horrid night in the study. But hadn’t she given him the benefit of the doubt, despite actual evidence? Most of the time.
Why couldn’t he do that for her?
Closing the door on him, and the foolish emotions he spurred, she quickly unpacked, then emerged ten minutes later in the brown bikini.
Mandy bumped into her in the hall. “Oh, Brielle, good. I’m glad you didn’t go up yet.”
Shoot. She’d thought everyone else had gone topside and was hoping to bug the girls’ rooms. Figures. Nothing had gone right on this case so far. Why should things change now?
“I was beginning to panic. This yacht is so big, I’d probably get lost, and it’d take me days to find everyone.” Mandy chewed on her lower lip. “I’m not good with direction.”
There’s a shocker. 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.”
Brielle had no need of it, though. Uncle Franco had emailed the blueprints to her yesterday, and she’d spent the night memorizing the ship’s layout. Once she had an idea of Matthew’s agenda, she’d know exactly where to place the bugs and cameras.
“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. “Y’all go ahead. I’ll stay here and catch some rays.”
Brielle glanced at the woman. Y’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.
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 gazed at Jack, naked except for his navy 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. Her stomach knotted. Not so long ago she had kissed his chest and abs and that 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.
How the hell was she going to survive being plastered up against his nearly naked wet body?
“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. Not going there.
After suffering through the first race with Jack’s hands on her waist and his index fingers making circles over her hips and belly, Brielle was ready to swim back to port. To China. To Atlantis…anywhere to get away from the tempting man. Her throat was hot with unshed tears. Why? She had no idea. Her body ached and literally shook with unanswered need.
“Let’s race again.” Matthew smiled. “But this time, we switch drivers.”
For the first time since she’d met the guy, she considered, really considered causing him bodily harm. She might have to arrest herself.
“It’s not fair if the passengers don’t get a turn,” the groom exclaimed, then slipped into the ocean, and waited until Danni scooted up before he climbed back on behind her.
Frig me. Having no choice but to do the same, Brielle hit the water with more than a few choice words screaming through her brain. But, it was going to be all right. Things were cool. Until Jack took off at mach speed, forcing her to cling to his incredible body, hot and hard under her hands.
Bastard did that on purpose. She didn’t need to see his face. She could feel his smile. The urge to get a rise out of him overtook her. Scooting closer, she pressed her torso into his warm back, and he promptly stiffened.
Bingo! I win.
Satisfaction shot through her until his nearness quickly converted her triumph into white-hot desire. Okay, bad idea. Very bad idea.
The entire race went by in a blur. It was all her fault. Get a rise out of him. Cripes. Maybe she did, maybe she didn’t. But she sure as hell got a rise out of herself. A rise in her body temperature. Blood thundered in her ears harder than their Jet Ski pounding the waves. This time, she was the idiot.
As soon as they won, and Jack brought their ride to a halt, she released her hold on him and propelled herself into the water. After a few moments, 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,” a rough voice claimed from behind.
Before she could move, a muscled arm clamped around her torso holding her immobile. Dammit. That shouldn’t feel so good. But, oh yeah, it did.
Wasting no time, Jack tread water with his free hand, and skimmed the side of her breast and waist with the one clutching her tight. Breath clogged in her throat, and all thoughts of breaking free diminished with her ability to think clearly. Bastard was zapping her brain cells again. Water, lapping around her sensitized flesh, enhanced his delicious stimulations and sparked a deeper, more primal craving. Damn him. He didn’t play fair.
Unable to stop herself, she leaned back against him, soaking in the heat and hard strength of the man.
She didn’t want to be so easy. There had to be a way to keep sane. 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 seconds before his hands suddenly yanked hard, pulling her under the water as the Jet Ski raced over top.
When they surfaced, Brielle coughed and sucked in air while Jack continued to hold her tight with that one arm and sputter between curses.
What the hell just happened? Did Danni just try to run them over? Her mind refused to believe that.
She swiped the wet hair from her face and watched as Matthew took over the controls and steered the Jet Ski back around.
“Are you two all right?” He and Danni frowned at them, both pale with concern.
“Yes,” she managed to say between coughs, acutely aware of the strong arm crushing her against a hard chest.
Her mind was clear enough to acknowledge the gulp of ocean she’d swallowed wasn’t the reason she had trouble catching her breath. No. The sole blame went to the strong body with its many drool-worthy muscles plastered tight against her back and legs. Oh, and that arm of strength and sinew clutching her close. Yeah, they were the culprits playing havoc with her respiratory system.
Jack nodded, and she turned to watch him gaze at Danni through narrowed eyes. “Mind telling me what the hell just happened?”
The teacher’s 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. Don’t worry about him. It wasn’t your fault,” Matthew soothed, sending his brother a disapproving look before driving toward the yacht.
With supreme effort, Brielle ignored her body’s reaction to Jack’s death grip and concentrated on what her brain was trying to compute.
Danni could be telling the truth. It was possible that the throttle had stuck—or she could be lying. Then there was the matter of the intended target. Matthew? Her? Jack? The two of them had been sitting ducks in the water. This was nuts. Teeth clenched, lips pursed, she punched the water and swallowed an oath. Too many damn variables.
“It’s all right. I’ve got you.” Jack’s grip tightened as he swam with her to the deck, obviously 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 for prolonging the pleasure of Jack’s touch. Yeah, she really had gotten good at lying.
As they reached the yacht, Matthew met them on the swim deck. “Bring Brielle to me. I’ll help her out of the water.”
As he did, Mandy appeared at the top of the steps.
“What’s all the commotion?”
“Nothing.” Danni pushed her wet hair over her shoulder with trembling fingers.
Brielle watched Jack swim back to their bobbing Jet Ski, coiled muscles rippling like the surrounding waves as he hauled himself up and started the ski. Damn man was perfect. Why’d he have to be so perfect, she wondered as he drove to the yacht where he proceeded to hook up the ski.
“It was just an exciting finish to the race,” she heard Matthew say to Mandy.
Brielle snorted. Everything about that race had been exciting, not just the finish. She shook her head. Distance. She needed to keep her distance from Jack. The man was way too trying.
Maybe she could ask Jack to leave the show?
She snickered as he hopped onto Danni’s ski and took it for a test run. Something she had wanted to do, but knew it would’ve appeared suspicious. Instead, she stood on deck and watched him maneuver the ski with controlled skill and blatant athletic ability. A combination he applied to many tasks. Oddly, the wave of heat those thoughts usually induced never came. She just felt sad.
He opened up the throttle, then brought the Jet Ski to an unhindered halt near the yacht.
“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 causing the perfect amount of heat to spread through her limbs. Okay, so now the heat was back.
She swallowed. “Maybe it was just a coincidence.”
He nodded, then raised a brow. “And maybe not.”
Chapter Fourteen
That evening, Jack entered the candlelit dining room, surprised to find it empty, except for his brother having a drink at the corner bar.
“Hi, bro,” Matthew said, raising a half empty glass.
“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 rushing back.
A high and intense sun had turned the sand pristine—giving a false sense of calm to the dunes, which had hidden the enemy in plain sight from him and his men.
Was that the case now? Was this candlelit room rigged for romance, 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. Riggs and Halstead had paid for it with their lives. 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.”
Matthew’s head snapped back. “Exactly what Danni said. The throttle stuck.” His brother frowned, turning his attention to 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’s heart rolled over in his chest. “Ah, hell. What made-up game?”
“Relax, bro, it’s okay.” His crazy-ass brother reached across the bar to slap him on the shoulder. “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.”
Jack scratched his chin. This could be beneficial. “Good idea.”
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 his brother?
“Are we late?” Danni asked, breezing in with Mandy by her side.
Matthew jumped to his feet. “Nope. You’re right on time.” Smiling, his brother crossed the room and kissed their cheeks. “You both look lovely.”
“Thank you.” Mandy blushed as his grinning sibling offered her a seat on his right at the only table set for dinner, then pulled out the chair on his left for Danni.
Jack was still trying to figure out which girl his brother liked when his nerve endings sprang to life. He knew without looking 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 tight
ness in his chest. Why did she have to be the one bullet he couldn’t dodge? She was a plant. A trouble-maker. 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 appeared. Or felt.
Ripping his gaze away, he tossed back the rest of his drink in an attempt to douse the memory with liquor.
“Hi, Brielle. Sit here.” Danni patted the empty seat next to her.
“Okay.” She headed for the teacher.
Matthew moved past Danni to hold out the chair. “Allow me, Brielle. You look wonderful tonight.”
“Thank you.”
She smiled up at him as he pushed her in. Her eyes held a genuine affection, but given her role, she might be a very good actress.
“My pleasure.” His brother resumed his seat, then glanced to him. “Jack, are you going to join us or play bartender all night?”
He hid his scowl. “You mean I get a choice?” Forcing a laugh, he took the remaining chair at their table—right between Mandy and Brielle.
“Okay, now that we’re all settled, I’d like to propose a toast.” Matthew lifted his glass of wine the wait staff had set in place. “Here’s to three of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met. May the next two nights be memorable.”
Jack grunted. “I’d rather unmemorable.” From his right, he could’ve sworn he heard Brielle echo his sentiment, but when he glanced her way, she was facing Danni.
Hit with her intoxicating scent, his nose and other body parts twitched, and he immediately recalled how his body had come to life under her incredible touch, and mind-boggling kisses. Hell, her kisses took him right out of himself.
Too bad fame and fortune meant more to her than he had.
The first course arrived, and for the next hour, Jack busied himself with eating and listened to the others, hoping someone would slip up and end the case tonight. No such luck. He learned nothing new and no one gave off even an ounce of suspicion.
Then there was Brielle. Hell. Despite her questionable reasons for being there, the dancer wasn’t easy to ignore. The slight brushes of her arm or leg against his, her soft, supple, bare shoulders tempting his lips, her sensual, throaty laugh all combined to wind him so tight that by the end of dinner he was ready to burst. Once again, he wished the Rangers had offered Brielle Bennett Training as part of their endurance testing. He sure as hell could use it right now.
She Does Know Jack Page 21
