Ten—he’d be back there in ten minutes. Jack sprinted upstairs to the salon, cursing the job, cursing their circumstance, cursing whatever it was that had put the apprehension in Brielle’s normally warm, brown eyes.
“This had better be good, Rodriguez.” He strode into the room, interrupting his men converged around a table.
“It is, sir. Look what we’ve found.” The frowning man moved away to reveal what he had been blocking.
Jack halted. “Shit!” His pulse shot through the promenade deck above them. Another note. “What does it say?” He approached with apprehension bubbling inside, filling his chest tight.
Rodriguez cleared his throat. “Be careful what you wish for!”
Damn. His heart literally stopped. Brielle’s dare. “Where’d you find it?”
“Right here.” Rodriguez pointed to the table.
Jack swallowed several more curses. “Out in the open like this?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Not good. Whoever’s doing this is getting bolder.” His concern for Matthew’s and Brielle’s welfare skyrocketed. He glanced at the surveillance camera. “Did you check the feed?”
“Yes, sir. There was nothing.” One of his men stepped forward, motioning toward the corner. “This camera and the one in the hall had been shut off.”
“Son-of-a-bitch! I’m sick of this shit already!” Knuckles cracking, Jack slammed his fist—hard—onto the table. A second later, something fell onto his sneaker, then bounced to the floor. “What the hell?”
A listening device stared up at him.
The room grew deathly quiet—as if holding its breath. He peered closer. Alarm shot up his spine. The bug wasn’t their brand, therefore—it wasn’t theirs. Using a napkin, he picked up the bug and dropped it on the table next to the note.
“Rodriguez, inform Matthew’s guard of the situation and tell him no one is to leave the recreation room. The rest of you, I want this ship searched from top to bottom. I’m sure this isn’t the only bug on board. Log what you find, and where you find it. Then you can explain to me how the hell you missed them when you swept this ship!” Hands behind his back, he walked around his silent men, then stopped to glare. “And if there are bugs, then there are recording devices. Find them!”
“Yes, sir!” His men scattered from the room, scurrying past Rodriguez already talking on his hand-held in the hall.
Christ, he couldn’t help but wonder if he and Brielle had been videotaped last night. If they were, whoever it was better hope to God he didn’t find him.
The urge to check on Matthew and Brielle himself seized Jack, but he would do them better service by continuing with his search. Her disappointed gaze flashed through his mind. He shook it away. Their talk had to wait. It couldn’t be helped, and he was certain she’d understand. He was so close, very close to uncovering something—he could taste it.
An hour later, when he regrouped with his men back in the salon, his spine instantly stiffened. No one would look him in the eye. “Report.”
Rodriguez cleared his throat. “We found ten bugs, sir.”
Ten? Son-of-a-bitch. “Where?”
“In here, the lounge, dining room, gym, recreation room, sun deck, disco, and Danni’s and Mandy’s rooms,” Rodriguez informed.
A measure of relief flashed through him. There weren’t any in Brielle’s room. Good. How the hell would he have explained that to her?
“Did you find any recorders?”
Rodriguez hesitated. “Yes,” he replied, then glanced away.
Jack’s heart dropped. Instinct told him he wouldn’t like the answer to the question he knew he had to ask. “Where?”
The men shuffled their feet while Rodriquez closed his eyes.
“Dammit, Rodriquez, where?” Jack demanded again.
“Brielle’s room.”
Chapter Sixteen
Where was Jack?
Brielle bit her lip as she glanced at her watch for the tenth time since he’d left. He said he’d be back in fifteen minutes, but a whole hour had passed.
Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. Her stomach knotted. Was he hurt? Did he need her help? She eyed the door, apprehension tempting her feet. This putzing around pretending to be a contestant sucked.
“You’re up, Brielle,” Matthew said, stepping in front of her. He caught her gaze and frowned. “Something wrong?”
She drew in a deep breath, trying to talk herself out of panicking. “I don’t know. I just have this awful feeling, Matthew,” she replied in a whisper, careful not to let the other’s hear. “Jack was supposed to be back an hour ago.”
“Well, why don’t you go look.” He glanced at the girls, busy pouring a glass of wine. “I’ll cover for you.”
God bless him. “Thanks.” She thrust the stick in his hand and headed for the door, breath clogging beneath the heart suddenly lodged in her throat. Once she found Jack, and saw for herself he was fine, then maybe she’d breathe.
“Where do you think you’re going?” The guard stood in the doorway, crossed his arms and blocked her exit.
She raised a brow. “To the bathroom. You got a problem with that?”
“Boss said no one is to leave.” He remained immobile. No smile. Didn’t blink. Nothing.
Alarm wrapped its fingers around her spine and squeezed. Something was wrong. Jack’s men were thorough and loyal, but never this unfriendly. She didn’t have time for this crap.
“Look, I like you, but I will take you down in order to go.”
He touched his earpiece and nodded to something he’d heard. She frowned. What the hell was going on? Her gaze bounced around the group. Everyone there was fine.
“Okay, Ms. Bennett. You may go. Your presence is requested in the salon.” He stepped from the door.
On her way to the salon, Brielle glanced in every room she passed, praying she didn’t find Jack hurt…or worse. Her heart grew heavier with each step. By the time she reached the stairwell and ran into Rodriguez, her nerves were shot.
“Where’s Jack?” she asked, not liking the dark look on the man’s face. “Is he all right?”
“He’s waiting in your room, Ms. Bennett.”
Brielle blinked. In my room? Not the salon? Had she been overreacting? One glance at the messenger’s thin lips and she decided, no. She hadn’t.
“Come with me.”
Frowning, she took the steps two at a time and didn’t slow her pace until she reached her room. Jack and the rest of his men stood in front of her bed. What the hell? They turned solemn, accusing gazes her way when she entered.
“Jack, what are you doing here?” Brielle went to him, relieved to find him unharmed, but the cold fury in his gaze stopped her dead. She shivered, waiting for his reply.
“The question is—what are you doing here?” He grabbed her arm, fingers closing around her in a vise-like grip, then nodded for Rodriguez to close the door, trapping her inside with the four of them and two cameramen.
“What’s going on?” She tried to glance behind, them but they blocked the bed from her view.
“You tell me, Ms. Bennett.” He cocked his head and scowled. “If that’s your real name.”
“What?” Jeez, not that again. She frowned, not understanding what had happened to the loving man who’d left the recreation room an hour earlier, so eager to be alone with her his pants were tight and eyes blazed with need.
“I want to know who you are and why the hell you’ve bugged this ship.” His grip tightened on her arm as he nodded to his men to move away.
Oh no…oh God no…
Her heart dropped. All her bugs and recording devices were scattered about, littering the bed. Her gaze shot back to his. “Look, Jack, I can explain—in fact that’s what I’ve been trying to do for a while now.”
“I’m all ears, sweetheart,” he said, his grip tightening.
“You’re hurting me.” She frowned at him, not recognizing the stranger before her. Those wonderful, mesmerizing blue eyes she l
oved so much held no warmth. They were clear. Cold. Steel. “Jack.”
“I heard you,” he said, but didn’t lessen his hold. “I asked you a question. Who the hell are you?”
“Gabrielle Chapman.”
His head snapped back and eyes narrowed. “Franco DeMarco’s niece?” He released her with a curse.
“Yes,” she said, rubbing her arm. Cripes, she’d wanted to tell him, but not like this. Not with accusations and distrust hanging in the air. Not with his men and cameramen watching her every move. But it was what it was, so she sighed and finally spilled the beans. “I’m here undercover working the same case.”
His gaze snapped to hers, eyes dark with disbelief. “What? You’re working this case?”
“Yes.” She searched her brain, trying to find the right words to make this go easy. “I’m sorry. I begged them to let me tell you, but no one would listen.”
“Them?” He folded his arms across his chest, gaze unyielding while he leaned against the closet door. The very spot where he’d pleasured her body with unyielding focus twelve hours earlier. “Them, who?”
“Matthew, my uncle...and your parents.” She watched his anger grow with each name mentioned.
His arms dropped to his sides as he straightened. “They all know?” he asked, voice rough, not with desire like it had been last night. No. This time it was fury and pain that affected his tone.
And God, she hated to be the one to put it there. Just hated it.
She nodded, bracing for the onslaught. “They hired me to keep a watch on the girls at the bachelorette mansion.” She stepped toward him. “I’m only trying to help, Jack.”
“Help?” His voice rose along with his brows. “Is that what you’ve been doing?”
She flinched at the hostility in his tone. “Of course. Why are you so angry?”
“Why am I so…” He stopped and clenched his fists before hitting her with a direct look. “Tell me, Ms. Chapman, was I part of your job?”
“Okay, boys, I think this is where we leave,” Rodriguez stated, and within seconds, he and his men ushered the protesting cameramen from the room.
Brielle waited until the door closed and they were alone, before she continued. “No, Jack. God, you were never part of the job. Ever.” She went to touch him, but he moved out of her grasp, his rejection a slap to her face.
“I can’t believe I left myself wide open for this shit again.” He twisted around to face her, anger ruling his tight features right down to his cracking fists. “Why didn’t you tell me last week when I asked you to leave the show?”
Some of that anger rubbed off on her, mingling with a heavy dose of frustration. Her hands shot straight in the air. “I tried to, Jack. I tried, but you opened your mouth and said some hurtful things and oh, I don’t know, I thought I’d better stick to the rules and keep it quiet.” She fought to remain calm. Jack had every right to be angry. Giving rise to her own anger wouldn’t do them any good.
“That’s a very convenient claim.” He shook his head and smiled down at her, amusement vacant from his cold stare. “Sorry, not buying it, sweetheart.”
“I’m sorry, too, Jack. I…I don’t know what else to say.” She wanted to touch him, to tell him she loved him, beg his forgiveness, but knew he was in no state of mind to listen.
They stared at each other for a long time, and suddenly, without warning, the veil disappeared from his eyes. Brielle reeled back as if hit with a physical blow. The torment that crossed his face stole her breath.
“Did you have a good laugh at my expense?” he asked, voice low and rough with emotion. “Was it all a lie, Brielle?”
“No!” She shook her head vehemently, rushing forward to touch him. God, she needed to touch him, to reassure him. “No, Jack. I already explained that. None of it was a lie. It was very real. You know I care about you, deeply. I’d never—”
“Spare me the deep feeling bullshit,” he spat, cutting her off, ripping his arm from her grasp. “And don’t give me that crap about none of it being a lie—what about your name?”
“Well, yeah. Of course I lied about that. I’m undercover.” She smiled, hoping the humor of the situation wasn’t lost on him. It was. Brielle sighed. “Look, my name and occupation were a fabrication. And I didn’t even come up with it. It was my uncle’s and your parent’s doing. But that’s not important. You know how that goes. You’ve worked undercover before. Surely, you understand my position? This was just like at The Limelight.”
He blinked, and some of his tension disappeared. “You were the insider.”
“Yes.” She searched his face, looking for a speck of understanding to grasp onto. His silence punctured her heart and drained the hope from inside. Not even a crumb. “Jack, please…”
“Please, what, Brielle? You played me.” His fist hit the wall. “How the hell do you expect me to feel? I thought I’d finally found the right woman. How fucking stupid could I be?” He smacked his palm off his head.
Her heart strangled at the pain mirrored in his eyes. She wanted to scream. You’re not wrong! I am that woman! But the words couldn’t get past the lump lodged in her throat.
“I thought, finally, a woman who doesn’t lie.” He snickered, rolling his eyes. “Boy was I ever wrong. You’re the most deceitful woman I’ve ever met.”
“That’s not true. Nothing I’ve said or done to you was a lie.” She grabbed his face, forcing him to look at the truth she knew was in her eyes. “Nothing.”
His gaze narrowed. Hope and trust sparkled for a moment, then faded as a frost set in. “You’ll forgive me if I find that hard to believe. Well, except for your responses to the sex we had.”
She dropped her hands, silently begging him not to continue.
His gaze raked her up and down, lips twisted in a mirthless grin. “I know you didn’t fake that.”
“Jack,” she said on an exhale, stumbling back as his hateful words sucked the breath from her lungs. Her throat heated and eyes stung, and try as she might, no amount of blinking could stop the tears. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
“Why?” He stepped closer. “Because it’s the truth? At least I tell the truth, Brielle. You should try it sometime.”
“I think you’d better go before you say something you’ll regret.” She walked to the door, unable to look at him.
“Too late,” he said. “I regret ever meeting you, Brielle Chapman.”
Pain stabbed through her heart, and for a moment, she forgot how to breathe. He didn’t mean it. He can’t mean it. She drew in a deep breath, squared her shoulders and slowly turned to face him. “No, you don’t, Jack. Not really. You’re just hurt and upset, and I’m sorry. But I’ll never believe you meant that.”
“Believe what you like, Ms. Chapman,” he spat, stopping next to her at the door. “When we get into port in a few hours, I want you gone.”
Her chin rose under his glare. “I can’t do that. I gave my word to your family and mine, and I’m not leaving until my job is done.”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself. But let me make one thing perfectly clear.” Leaning closer, he paused an inch from her face. Hot breath hit her in angry spurts. “Whichever comes first, the end of this case or the end of this show, I want you gone.”
Her heart protested, but she swallowed the objection. “Whatever you want, Jack Anderson. You’re calling the shots.”
“Ha, that’s rich,” he scoffed. “If I were, then why wasn’t I told about you?”
“Your parents seemed to think you’d be worried about me and feel the need to protect me.” She held his gaze, a sad smile tugging her lips. “I don’t think we have that problem now, do we?”
“Nope.” He shook his head, then about-faced toward the door.
Her heart cried out. She couldn’t let him walk away. Not like this. Pain was making him act like a jerk. And even though he couldn’t see her, she took a tentative step forward, needing to make one more attempt to reason with him.
“I re
ally did try to get their permission, Jack. I even tried to tell you without their permission last week, last night and again this morning.”
Jack opened the door, and for a moment, Brielle thought he was going to keep going, but he stopped without turning around, one hand on the door knob, the other gripping the frame.
“You should’ve tried harder,” he said, then slammed the door behind him, effectively severing their relationship.
Lurking in the shadows, the dark figure eyed the model and the teacher sunbathing on their lounge chairs, then glanced at the one swimming with Matthew.
Things had taken an interesting turn between her and that Jack. She’d just better not get any ideas about Matthew. He is off limits. She had been awfully brave—or stupid—making that dare. The verdict was still up in the air as to what to do about her.
Suddenly, as if she could sense the scrutiny, the dancer turned and peered straight up at the hiding spot. The figure stilled, slowly pulling back into the shadows. She stared a moment longer, then shook her head and twisted back to Matthew. The figure heaved a sigh.
Clever, that one.
It was a good thing she didn’t like Matthew, or she’d be nothing but trouble. The figure’s gaze snapped back to the sunbathers.
As for them, well…elimination time was just around the corner.
Chapter Seventeen
That afternoon, Brielle floated in the ocean, bobbing in the waves, striving to appear blissful and carefree while part of her wished the ocean would swallow her up. Numbness was setting in, but not fast enough to mask the pain squeezing her heart, making it an effort to breathe.
“Brielle? What’s gotten into Jack?” Matthew’s question forced her to open her eyes and reenter reality. Dammit.
They were alone, the other two contestants were back on the sundeck, lazing in the sun, having already had their fill of the water. A movement on the yacht caught her attention. She stiffened, looking at the deck, trying to figure out what had moved and glinted.
“What’s wrong?” Matthew followed her gaze.
She Does Know Jack Page 25
