She Does Know Jack (9 page)

For the first
time in Jack’s life, his heart rolled and his legs felt unsteady.
Jesus
.
He was losing control. It would be so easy to get lost in her. Completely, and
utterly lost.

Gripping the
chair, he stared into those warm, chocolate depths.  Who was she? Some kind of witch?

He’d been around
plenty of beautiful women in his lifetime and many had thrown themselves at
him, yet for the most part, he’d remained unmoved. Why was this one different?

He released the
chair and faced her, reminding himself it didn’t matter. Not right now, anyway.
What mattered was the case.

Using his
training, he shoved away emotion, firmed his resolve and continued the
interrogation. “So, you want me to believe you didn’t do this to your clothes?”

Brown eyes
rolled. “Haven’t we already been over this?” she asked. “Of course I didn’t do
this! Why in the world would you even think that?”

“It just seems
convenient that the note showed up
after
you entered the closet alone.”
He crossed his arms and watched as disbelief and anger fought to claim her
features.

“Wow. I can’t
believe you said that. Look, Mr. Anderson.”

Ah, it’s Mr.
Anderson again
.

Her slim finger
poked his chest. “You don’t know me and—”

“Exactly.” He
cut her off, grabbed her attacking appendage and held tight. “I
don’t
know you, Ms. Bennett, and I won’t take any chances where my brother is
concerned.” He waited to see if she’d cry and throw herself at him or rear back
and give him a tongue-lashing. His groin jumped at the literal image that last
thought brought to mind.

“You’re right.”
She tugged her finger from his grasp and stepped back “I don’t blame you; it
must be tough to do this show with someone threatening your brother.” Her mouth
opened as if she wanted to say more, then she sighed and turned away, but not
before he’d seen admiration in her eyes.

Jack couldn’t
have been more shocked if she’d dropped the robe and recited the Declaration of
Independence while tap dancing.
Admiration?
He hadn’t expected that
reaction. Crying, clinging, yelling, he could deal with, but this? What did he
do with this? 

“Why not use
me?”

His heart
rocked. Hard. Doubting his ears, he grasped her shoulder and gently turned her
to face him. “What did you say?”

“Use me.”

Her gaze
fluttered to his mouth. Ah hell. That did it. The erection he’d been fighting
for the last hour sprang fully to life. Then throbbed when she licked her lips.

“You know, as
bait.”

“No.” He dropped
his hands and strode, albeit painfully, to the center of the room—away from
Brielle, yet mindful to stay out of his men’s way.

“Why not?”

He squeezed his
eyes shut and, resisting the urge to bounce his head off the wall, scrubbed a
hand over his face instead. “Because…”

“Look, Jack.”

So they were
back to Jack now. God, he couldn’t keep up with her flip-flopping. She was
worse than a fish on a dock. His head began to ache.

“You may not
trust me, but I know I didn’t ruin my clothes, and I’d love to find out who
did. Let me be your eyes and ears over here.”

He inhaled and
opened his eyes. The woman had a point. A good one, dammit. And he could sure
use the help. Especially in this mansion. Matthew’s stalker needed to be caught.

He turned
around, locked gazes, noting hers was intense, yet sincere. Ah hell, he was
toast. With a small shake of his head he exhaled. “What exactly did you have in
mind?”

Excitement lit
her eyes, reminding him of his own reflection before he started a new case.
Yep, burnt toast. Burnt beyond a salvageable scraping.

“First, I think
you should set up cameras in my room—”

“In here?” He
cut her off again. She couldn’t have meant in here. He must’ve heard wrong.
Thanks to the damn pulse pounding through his ears he wasn’t sure. “Let me get
this straight, you’re giving me permission to put cameras in your room?”

“Yes. In my
room, but not the bathroom, of course,” she added.

“Of course.” He
searched her face. Was she playing a game? Was she serious or an actress
looking for more air time? A solemn expression met his gaze, no signs of
mischief or secret agendas. She really wanted to help. “You do know that not
only
I
will see your room, but the whole world will, too?” He pointed to
the camera.

“I know.”

She walked
toward the window, and he did his damndest not to think about her sweet ass
naked under the thin silk outlining her curves.

He failed.

And now he was
hard.

Again.

“Look.” She
turned to face him. “I’m not crazy about it, but I do think, since I seemed to
have ruffled someone’s feathers, that maybe putting cameras in here will help.”

Yeah, it’ll help
all right.
Help elevate his already high blood pressure. The thought of watching her in
this intimate setting made him sweat.

Apparently, she
took his silence to mean acquiescence, and nodded.

“It’s settled
then. You set up the cameras, and I’ll see what I can do to flush out the
culprit.”

The naked
temptation in silk strolled past him toward the door, her gait graceful yet
sure.
Flush out?

He blinked.
“Wait. No way. I never said anything about flushing out the—” Too late. She was
gone. “—culprit.”

Only Jack’s crew
and the cameraman heard his words.

“Don’t worry,
boss. That woman seems capable,” his right hand man, Rodriguez stated.

Jack’s knuckles
cracked into fists.
Yeah, capable of causing disaster
.  He tamped down
the unknown emotion racing through his body. Every day, things seemed to
escalate on this show. Christ. Now he was installing cameras in a sexy dance
instructor’s room.

Had his job just
gotten easier? Or worse?

B
rielle’s
mother of all mornings
was quickly spilling into her afternoon. Forced to make breakfast instead of
planting bugs, she then had to walk around in front of Jack in nothing but a
silk robe, her clothes were shredded, she nearly blew her cover by almost kissing
Jack—and now she had to head poolside in front of cameras, crew…
the world
,
in a bathing suit
not
of her choosing.

“I’m not coming
out,” she called to the incessant banging on the bathroom door.

Holing up inside
the small powder room just off the foyer wasn’t going to do her much good, but
she’d hang on to solitude for as long as possible. The soft earth tones and sea
shell décor failed to alleviate her annoyance.

“Come on. It
can’t be that bad.” Danni’s voice crackled with humor.

Sure, what did
Danni care? The teacher was wearing her
own
bathing suit.

“It can, and it
is.” Brielle surveyed her reflection and frowned.

The studio still
hadn’t delivered her clothes, which sucked since Bill expected everyone poolside
for their lunch with Matthew. More than happy to attend in her robe, she
received an adamant veto from the frowning producer who insisted she wear a
bathing suit. And it was just her luck—her
bad
luck—that Carla had an
extra, brand new bathing suit.

Brielle surveyed
her reflection again. “If you can call a few strings with small triangles
attached a bathing suit.” Cripes. Her shell costume at The Limelight had
covered more.

“Come on,
Brielle. Matthew’s due any minute now.”

If she didn’t
have to worry about keeping in character, she would’ve said, “Good. Have fun.”  Resignation,
in the form of a long, drawn-out sigh, filled the room. Today was so not her
day. “All right, I’m coming.” She slid into her robe, tied the sash extra tight
and opened the door. “But you can’t make me take off my robe.”

Danni smiled. “I
wouldn’t, but Bill might. You know, ratings and all.”

“Oh, yes.” She stared
straight into the camera. “We wouldn’t want the world to miss out on another
scantily-clad female, since they’re so rare around here.”

The teacher
burst out laughing, and the two of them were still chuckling as they joined the
others out by the pool.

“Brielle, I
thought you went inside to change.” Bill shaded his eyes with his clipboard.
“Why are you still wearing your robe?”

“Haven’t you
ever heard of a cover-up, Bill? She has her suit on underneath,” Danni replied
in her defense, reaching for a glass of lemonade.

“Oh, okay. But I
hope you plan on taking it off. The world’s going to want to see the new girl
in her bathing suit.” He motioned to the cameras.

“I’d be happy to
show them…if I were wearing
my
bathing suit. As it is, I’ve been given
one, generously I might add.” She nodded to a smirking Carla, busy applying
sunscreen. “But it's two sizes too small.”

Carla’s head
snapped up. “Too small? How can it be too small? We’re the same height.”

“I believe Ms.
Bennett is a little…curvier than you, Carla,” Matthew said from the doorway.

Brielle suffered
Carla’s glare and sipped the lemonade Danni handed her.

“Curves aren’t
everything, are they, Jack?” The centerfold smiled toward the mansion.

Jack? Brielle
froze. He was still here? Why? She thought he’d gone back to the main mansion.
Fighting a rush of panic, she peered beyond Matthew to see his brother
regarding the scene with amusement. Great. He’d heard them discussing her
curves.

“Don’t go
getting me mixed up in this. I’m only here to observe.” He held up his hands,
gleam in his eyes way too pleased for her fluttering heart.

Carla batted her
eyelashes. “Does that mean you can’t put lotion on my back?”

“P-a-a-lease,”
Danni grumbled, dropping into a nearby chaise.

Swallowing her
mouthful of lemonade…for the second time, Brielle settled down in a chair near
the umbrella table.
Long
and
trying
now topped the lunch menu. The
last thing she needed was Jack to see her in a bathing suit. Her heart rocked
against her ribs. Hard.

What if he recognized
her body? Granted, she’d gained a few pounds since L.A., and her mermaid henna
tattoo was long gone, but jeez, the former Ranger had stared at her during her
performances night after night at The Limelight…
and
on one occasion—he’d
done more than stare. He’d had an intimate view. A very intimate view. Heck,
he’d brought new meaning to the words
up close
and
personal
.

Heat rushed
through her body in a flooding wave, tingling those damn happy parts to life.

“Does somebody
want to tell me why Brielle doesn’t have her own bathing suit?” The bachelor
stepped around his brother, now busy applying lotion to a smug Carla.

Blue eyes regarded
her closely, no doubt waiting to see how she answered. But, she was spared when
Mandy jumped to her feet and linked arms with Matthew.

“You aren’t
going to believe this. Somebody ruined all of Brielle’s clothes.” The blonde stared
up at him with wide eyes then snuggled closer, laying her head on his bicep. “I
was scared. I thought maybe someone had ruined all our clothes, but your
brother checked everything out and said only Brielle’s had been shredded.”

“Shredded?”
Matthew’s gaze snapped to hers. Concern washed the amusement from his face.
“Brielle, were you hurt?”

“No, I wasn’t in
the room at the time,” she rushed to assure. “And it’s nothing a quick trip
home wouldn’t fix if Bill would let me, but he said it’s against the rules, so
his staff is getting me a new wardrobe.”

“Protocol.
Sorry,” Bill called from his corner spot off to the side.

She glanced
heavenward. “Yeah…I can hardly wait.”

“Well, I’m glad
you’re safe.” The artist placed his free hand on her shoulder, while Mandy
still claimed his other.

“No worries.
Everything is fine.”

“No, everything
is
not
fine,” Danni spoke up, swinging her feet to the ground. “Whoever
ruined Brielle’s clothes left a yellow note in her room, too.”

“What?” Matthew
pulled out of Mandy’s grasp and took the chair next to Brielle. “There was a
note in your room, too?”

Great. Just what
she wanted. Attention. Her gaze skipped from the cameras to five pairs of eyes
watching her. The unwanted interest left her no choice but to play along.

“Yes,” she said,
ignoring Carla’s eye roll and Jack’s grim face. “It was on my closet floor. But
it's okay, your brother is having it processed.”

“What did it
say?”

“
Go home
.”

Matthew’s
muttered curse echoed over the patio. “I’m so sorry, Brielle. I don’t know who
keeps doing this, but I don’t want to be responsible for any of you getting
hurt. I’d understand if you wanted to leave.”

All eyes, all
cameras turned to her, waiting yet again for her response. Brielle had had
enough. Time for a distraction to get everyone off topic. She patted Matthew’s
hand and smiled. “Thank you, that’s sweet, but I’m not going anywhere. Except,
maybe in the pool.”

Standing up, she
disrobed.
So much for staying covered up and out of the limelight.
Her
pulse jumped. Bad word choice.

She could feel
Jack’s gaze burn into her skin like a branding iron, scorching her flesh with
unrelenting heat.
Ah…the Dodger stare. God, she’d missed it
. Chin held
high, she strolled toward the deep part of the pool and did her best to ignore
the former Ranger. Why the hell did he have to be so damn potent? Knowing
everyone was still watching, she prayed her bathing suit would stay in place
and executed a simple dive.

Cool and
refreshing, the water swallowed her barely-clad form, granting her a brief
moment of freedom. No longer clearly visible to those above, her pumping legs
propelled her across the pool and away from the crowd.

Heaven.

For the first
time that day, she found a modicum of privacy. No eyes, no camera, just
Brielle. Reluctant to end her bliss, she had no choice when her lungs protested
their lack of oxygen. With a quick check that her suit was still in place, she
broke the surface and gulped in air.

“May I join
you?”

Turning, she
spied Danni, hovering near the steps. “Please do.”

“I know I should
be putting the moves on Matthew, but I couldn’t take any more of the flirting.”
The girl nodded toward the others. “Between Carla coming on to Jack and Mandy
practically sitting on Matthew, I thought my drink might make its way back up.”

Brielle glanced
at the now bare-chested men and her mouth dutifully watered. Damn. When had she
stepped into
Patio of the Gods
? Clad only in their bathing
suits—Matthew’s a blue Hawaiian print and Jack’s black with a navy side
stripe—they were the epitome of hard bodies.

Grinning, the
pair faced her as two smiling females coated their backs with sunscreen.
Although both bronzed and defined, it was Jack who took her breath away. When
they’d…
gotten together
in her dressing room, he’d still had most of his
clothes on. She knew he’d had muscles but…damn.

She swallowed
and drank in his six-pack. No wonder his T-shirts had been stretched to their
limits. Even Dodger’s ripples had ridges. Matthew had a nice spattering of dark
hair over his broad, trim artist physique, but Jack? The man had a cut, chiseled,
military, hard body complete with a tattoo on his right bicep. His pecs were
hairless, but…
alleluia
…those lickable, washboard abs sported a happy
trail. And, oh yes, she vividly remembered what was at the end of that trail,
and every silk-over-steel inch of it had been happy. Very happy.

“The Anderson brothers are yummy, aren’t they?” Danni asked, cutting into her heated memories.

Brielle slowly
turned as if encased in quicksand and nodded to the woman.
Yummy
didn’t
do Jack justice, but it did make her wonder.
Did they have chocolate syrup
in the kitchen?

Danni chuckled.
“We all had that same reaction when we first saw them.”

God, she hoped
not. Unable to stop, her gaze returned to the beckoning ridges, then climbed
north, meeting a pair of amused blue eyes. Air funneled into her lungs.
Busted.
She held his gaze a moment longer, then dove under the water.

No Dodger. No
Jack. No attraction
,
she silently chanted with each kick, and soon the wall’s smooth surface met her
hand. Remaining submerged, she flipped her body around and pushed off toward
the middle of the pool. The exercise did her mind and body good. With the water
cooling her down and desire reduced to a dull ache, she surfaced with her back
to the men, wiped the water from her eyes and faced a terrified Danni.

“What it is?”
Senses on high alert, Brielle planted her feet on the bottom and stood. “What’s
wrong?” she asked just as a slippery form brushed the back of her knee,
knocking her off balance.

“Snake!” Danni’s
finger shook as she pointed to a submerged yellow mass.

Snake?
Brielle’s heart
rocked. Whatever just touched her was too big to be a snake, wasn’t it? A pair
of reptilian eyes broke the surface as the creature turned and swam toward her,
again. She stilled. A Burmese python. Albino. She’d seen this snake before.

In Carla’s room.

“Get out of the
water, Brielle. Now,” the woman yelled, hauling butt to the edge of the pool.

How in the world
had it gotten out? More importantly, who let it out?

“Brielle, swim
to me.” Jack’s voice penetrated her thoughts as the snake drew near.

“No. Stay still.
Butterscotch won’t hurt you,” Carla insisted.

Brielle’s mind
raced to recall what she knew about pythons. Non-poisonous, but their bite
could be severe. Pythons constricted their prey.

“Butterscotch?
You named that fifteen-foot monster, Butterscotch?” Danni’s shrill voice echoed
across the water.

“He’s not
fifteen feet, yet,” Carla corrected. “Butterscotch is just a baby.

“A baby? That
log is a baby?” Danni stammered.

“Yes, he only
measures about seven feet, and he’s a sweetheart.”

Not daring to
breath, Brielle stood stalk still as the python brushed her stomach. When he
passed without incident, she swam for all she was worth to the nearest edge of
the pool.

Meeting her
there, the Anderson brothers grasped her wrists and yanked her unceremoniously
out of the water.

“Did he hurt
you?” Jack asked, one arm around her waist, pulling her from his brother, the
other cupping her face before her feet barely had time to touch the patio.

Pressed against
his smoking hot body did funny things to her. Knees weak, mouth dry, she
couldn’t speak.