Meet Your Mate Page 10
"Okay, ladies, it's time to start the challenge.” Bill waited for everyone to gather around him. “Greg, your host, is waiting for you and will explain the rules once we get to the range."
She followed in silence, watching and listening as the girls in front of her mused over what the alone-time could be. Matthew had already alluded that to her, but she kept quiet as they walked.
"Matthew? Can you tell us?” Mandy asked, batting her lashes.
"No, he can't. I'm sure you understand,” Bill cut in.
"Yes. Show rules.” She pouted. “But it's not fair that I don't have any experience with a gun. Can't we have a different competition?"
Carla snorted. “Like what? See who could hold their hand out the longest?” She stilled, demonstrating a hand pose.
"Oh, could we, Bill?” Mandy eyed the producer excitedly.
"Um, I'm not sure. I'll run it by my staff,” he said, not looking the blonde in the eye. “And here we are."
Jack broke away to talk to both his and Uncle Franco's men. She scanned their faces, pleased to note the DeMarco employees showed no sign of recognizing her. Relaxing, she turned her attention to the competition area. It looked like your typical firing range, complete with benches, lines, stalls and targets set at what she assumed was fifty and one hundred meters. She also noted an array of weapons ranging from hand guns to rifles all stored in a cabinet behind a counter
"Okay, ladies, if you'll join me over here.” Greg appeared near a grassy knoll. “Welcome to today's alone-time challenge. As you know, the lady with the best shooting score will win, but what you don't know is where.” He scanned their faces, as did the many cameras surrounding them. “The winner of today's challenge will spend time with Matthew, alone, in the hot tub at his mansion."
Mandy squealed, Brielle forced a smile, and the other contestants clapped.
"So, now that you know what you're competing for, I'll let Jack explain the rules to you. Jack.” Greg stepped aside to give Jack the spotlight.
"The rules are pretty simple. For safety reasons, you will take turns shooting at the target my men will set, using the gun my men will load. Any questions?” He hit each of them with a direct look.
"I have one,” Brielle said, staring back. “Will you give Mandy a few pointers and some extra time to practice? It doesn't seem fair, otherwise."
His head tipped ever so slightly. “I think that can be arranged.” He nodded to one of his men. “Rodriguez, why don't you run through the basics with Mandy on range one."
"Yes, sir. If you'll come with me, ma'am.” Rodriguez motioned to the blonde to join him.
Mandy looked behind her, then turned back to him. “Oh, you mean me! Sorry, I'm not used to being called ma'am.” She followed him, giggling.
"Great job, Ballerina. You're only postponing the inevitable,” Carla whispered.
Brielle smiled. “I know."
Chapter Eight
"You're up, Brielle.” Greg motioned toward the now-vacant stall. “Since you drew the smallest straw, you're the final contestant to shoot."
Just what I'd hoped. Now, she knew the score she needed to beat. The girls shot at the closest target—fifty meters—using a 9 mm and were allowed a full clip of fifteen rounds. Carla's target held the best score so far; three bull's-eyes and eleven in the surrounding circle. Danni's had one bulls-eye and seven in the surrounding circle, and even Mandy had managed to nick the bull's-eye before the gun's recoil knocked her on her behind.
"Good luck.” Danni nodded.
"Yeah, beat Carla's butt.” Mandy raised her fist and smiled.
Despite being impressed with the way Jack and his men were handling the competition, Brielle kept a watchful eye on the women. Surprisingly, the air held no vestiges of threat, but she'd still feel better getting Matthew away from the weapons. And if it weren't for the damn cameras sitting at his mansion, she'd be placing these bullets as far away from the center as possible.
"Here you go, Brielle.” Jack handed her the gun, safety on.
"Thank you.” She waited for him to move. Arms crossed behind him in an at-ease position, he stood off to her right as he had done with the other girls.
She drew in a breath, flipped off the safety and aimed the gun. Time to win some cameras, she thought, squeezing off all fifteen rounds in succession before exhaling. Satisfied with her effort, she slipped the safety back on, then turned to Jack.
"Here you go.” She smiled.
Mouth opened, eyes wide, he barely moved when she placed the spent weapon in his hand.
She swiveled to face the group. “Now, what about that horseback riding?"
"What was her score?” Carla frowned, looking at the dumbfounded men. “Well?"
"It looks to be a perfect score, ma'am. Fifteen out of fifteen,” Rodriguez replied.
"Wow, let me see that.” Matthew took the target from a silent Jack. “You shot out the bulls-eye!"
"Yeah, well, he didn't need it anymore.” She grinned. Everyone laughed—except Jack and Carla.
"Okay, ladies, it looks like Brielle is today's alone-time challenge winner,” Greg announced, then turned to Matthew. “She will be returning with you to your mansion tonight, where the two of you will spend some alone time in the hot tub."
Matthew's smiled broadened and, having no choice but to look thrilled, she smiled back.
"And now, Matthew, Jack, if you'll join me.” The host motioned for the brothers to stand next to him. “It's time to reveal who Jack has decided Matthew should take on the next one-on-one date."
She studied the girls. Excitement and hope filled their expressions. What motivated them? Love? Hate? Winning? She tried to decipher, but got nothing.
"Well, Jack, you spent last evening with three of these lovely ladies, Carla, Mandy, and Brielle. And it was your job to determine who is best-suited for your brother.” Greg turned and looked apologetically at the fourth contestant. “I'm sorry, Danni, since you were out with Matthew on a one-on-one at the time, you're not eligible for Jack's vote."
Danni nodded, her shoulders slumping with her sigh. Brielle felt bad for the woman, and once again, like a fraud for even being considered. She returned her attention to Jack.
"Well, ladies...” He looked at each of them.
Her pulse jumped. Please don't say my name. After their sort of kiss, surely he wouldn't recommend her.
"I want you to know, this was a tough decision. But, taking my brother into consideration, I feel the woman that should go out on the next one-on-one with Matthew is ... Mandy.” Jack slapped his brother's back and smiled.
Brielle released the breath she hadn't realize she'd been holding, then smiled as Mandy let out a scream.
"Me? Really?” She looked around, hand to her throat. “I never win anything!"
"Well, you did this time. Looks like you and I will be going out on a date, tomorrow night.” Matthew grinned.
Carla frowned. “That's nice. But what about now? Aren't we supposed to go riding?"
"Yes.” Greg pointed to one of the ranch hands, waiting silently off to the side. “Blake will get all of you saddled up and take you on the trail."
Gee, I can hardly wait. But she turned and followed the others just the same. At least it got Matthew away from the threat of these guns.
Two hours later, Brielle questioned her reasoning as she tried to walk back to the limo. Why had she agreed to be subjected to this pain?
Despite her daily workouts and arguably being in the best shape of her life, her whole body ached as if she'd gone ten rounds with the whole United States Olympic Boxing Team before paddling a canoe to Japan where two sumo wrestlers body-slammed her into a rock wall.
Yeah, horseback riding had been a terrific idea.
"Hurry up, girls, it's time to go back.” Bill strode toward their slow-moving crowd.
Brielle noted Carla, Matthew, and Jack, didn't suffer any ill effects from their ride. They stood by the limo, smiling, feeding her ever-growing misery.
"We're coming.” Danni grunted between steps.
"Why didn't someone tell me horses were bad for your health?” Mandy moaned.
Brielle would've laughed but knew that would only cause more pain. Instead, she concentrated on forcing her legs to cover the short distance to the limo—then contemplated having the driver pick them up so they wouldn't have to walk the last thirty feet.
"Oh, alleluia, we made it.” Mandy sighed, grasping the opened door, then stopped. “Ah, Houston, we have a problem."
"What's wrong?” Bill hastened to her, worry marring his face.
Matthew and Jack pushed past Brielle to get to Mandy's side. Caught off-balance, Brielle grabbed the nearest thing to keep from falling. Jack. She had a death grip on the back of his shirt.
"Brielle, it's not polite to choke the groom's brother,” he ground out, backing closer to her.
She loosened her hold after regaining her balance. “And I wouldn't have if said brother-of-the-groom hadn't almost knocked me over."
He turned to face her. “Sorry, I didn't mean to. I just wanted to see what was wrong with Mandy."
"Nothing a couple of pain pills wouldn't cure.” Amusement dripped from Carla's tone.
"You wouldn't find it so funny if you couldn't get in the limo,” Mandy said, trying to lift her leg.
"How about if I go in first?” Matthew ducked into the vehicle. “Now, give me your hand."
"It's not my hand that's the problem.” Mandy grimaced while doing her best to bend.
Fifteen minutes later, they were on their way. Brielle swore the driver deliberately hit every bump in the road. Fifteen minutes after that, she gave up trying to hide her discomfort and readily accepted the drink Jack shoved in her hands.
"Here, this should dull the pain.” He handed Mandy and Danni a glass, too, before he settled into the seat next to her.
"You're lucky, Brielle, at least you get to soak in Matthew's hot tub,” Danni said before sipping her drink.
Jack stiffened. She glanced at him, but his eyes were unreadable.
"You ladies have a hot tub at your mansion, too.” Matthew patted Danni's and Mandy's hands as he sat between the two women. They rewarded him with brilliant smiles.
"Yes, you're right, we do. Bless you for reminding us. I'd give you a kiss if it didn't hurt so much to move,” Mandy gushed.
"Me, too.” Danni winced.
Carla rolled her eyes and shook her head. Was that general disgust or something else? Brielle sipped her drink and leaned back, her pain lessening as her mind concentrated on the case. At least the afternoon went by without incident. She turned her attention to Matthew as he talked with the others.
Thank goodness nothing happened at the firing range. She'd been dreading that part of the group date. So had Jack, no doubt. Her sidelong glance wandered over the silent man. He had impressed the hell out of her today—handling that whole contest like a professional. Putting in all those safeguards on such short notice and the efficiency with which his men worked, all reflected on him and his capabilities. Their gazes locked. If only things were different. She forced herself to look away.
By the time they reached the bachelorette mansion, her body was almost numb. Was that the pain or the drink? She didn't know and didn't care. All she wanted was to get those cameras from Matthew and crawl into bed.
"You need your bathing suit, Brielle.” Danni said as Matthew helped her out of the limo. “I'd go get it, but you don't have all night, so maybe Carla wouldn't mind running for it?"
Everyone looked at the brunette standing next to Mandy on the sidewalk.
"Fine.” Carla bent down to peer at her. “Where is it?"
"It's in the top drawer of the long dresser. Thank you."
Carla disappeared into the mansion without a word.
"Someone is not a happy camper,” Jack muttered, sliding to Carla's vacant seat.
Brielle told herself she didn't miss his warmth or solid strength.
"Here's you suit.” The model returned in record time and tossed the scrap of brown material onto Brielle's lap. “Don't do anything I wouldn't."
"Well, that leaves the field wide open.” Mandy put her hand to her mouth and blushed. “I thought out loud again, didn't I?"
Chuckles echoed through the air.
"Well, good-bye, Brielle. Enjoy your win,” Danni said, backing away from the limo.
"Yeah, have fun.” Mandy waved. “But not too much."
She smiled and waved back. Right now, they seemed like the winners to her.
* * * *
Settled into a hidden spot, ready to act should things get out of hand, the shadowy figure observed the men.
Matthew sat relaxed, laughing with his brother and the producer, seemingly accustomed to the cameras and crew. Where was the girl? She was supposed to join Matthew in the hot tub.
The figure eyed Matthew. Tonight's outcome depended on that man. He'd better play the game right because one wrong move and a ton of trouble would come his way.
"Brielle, there you are.” Bill halted. “Are you all right?"
The woman's swimsuit-clad form stepped onto the patio, looking victorious clutching a pair of ripped jeans.
The figure smiled, then watched as Jack and Matthew rose to their feet.
"I'm fine. Why?” She frowned.
"What happened to your jeans?” Bill pointed to the used-to-be pants.
"Oh, these. I did that.” She smiled smugly and shook the ruined denim. “I couldn't get out of them, and although I know both Matthew and Jack would've helped had I called, I wasn't about to have that broadcast on national TV."
Bill frowned. “Too bad. That would've been great."
The figure's grip tightened around the branch of a nearby tree.
"Well, I did think of you, Bill,” she said, holding her hand up. “I could've thrown my handiwork out, you know, but I brought them to your attention instead."
"So you did. Thank you, Brielle.” He nodded.
"Let me get this straight. You couldn't get out of your jeans, so you cut them off?” Matthew's brows disappeared into his thick hair.
"Yes. There's no way I was getting back into them, anyway."
Jack shook his head. “Only you, Brielle."
She smiled. “Now you're starting to get it."
Yes, that's it. Get chummy with Jack, not Matthew. Leave Matthew alone.
"Well, now that you're finally out here, Brielle, let me explain the rules.” Bill hugged his clipboard and grinned. “There aren't any."
A twig snapped in the shadow's hand, but thanks to the noisy crew, went unnoticed. That producer is pushing it.
The dancer looked from the stone-faced Jack to the smiling Matthew, then back to the producer. The figure grinned. This should be good.
"Well, I hate to disappoint you, Bill, but if you were hoping for some hot, hot-tub footage, you aren't going to get it,” she told the producer.
Bill's shoulders dropped, and the figure's grin broadened.
"Thanks to your scheduled horse-back riding this afternoon, I'll be lucky to even get into the hot tub."
The producer's eyes lit up. “Jack, you suit up, too."
She groaned. “Wait a minute! I won alone-time. You're not getting a three-some from me."
"Brielle's right.” Jack held up his hands. “Leave me out of this. Matthew is more than capable of handling things."
Damn. Too bad.
"Yes, it's our alone-time.” Matthew slung his arm around Brielle.
Bill shrugged. “Very well. It was just a thought."
"Yeah. A bad one,” she said. “Now, if you don't mind, that hot water is calling me."
"Fine. You go ahead.” The producer waved toward the softly lit tub, glowing in the distance. “I'm calling it a night. I'll see you boys tomorrow."
"I'll walk you out.” Jack slapped the man's shoulder and fell into step next to him.
"Your water awaits, my dear.” Matthew guided her to the steaming tub.
&nbs
p; Looks like I need to stick around. The figure shifted position to get a better view of the hot tub. They'd better behave.
* * * *
Brielle glanced over her shoulder. Someone was watching her. She looked at Phil and the rest of the cameramen and laughed. She was being watched. “Okay, Matthew, they're gone. Where are my cameras?"
"They're in my room."
"Great. Let's go get them."
He blinked, then shook his head. “I don't think that's such a good idea."
"Why in the world not?"
"Because if I know my brother, he'll be in his study before we even get into the house.” Matthew pointed to the room where Jack had questioned her on her first night. “And from that study he'll be keeping an eye on us. If we're not in that tub, he'll come looking for us. Now, I know you're putting on an act, but do you really want him to find us in my room?"
Normally, she wouldn't care. But was it worth the risk of tarnishing her already questionable reputation in Jack's eyes?
She sighed. “Fine. I take it you have a different plan?"
"Yes.” The artist continued to lead her toward the hot tub. “We allow him to see us in here, then after an acceptable amount of time, I'll pretend to get a call from the gallery and go inside, grab the cameras, sneak them to the limo, then come back and join you."
"Sounds great, Matthew, but how will you get your phone to ring?” She motioned to the cell sitting on a nearby table.
"I've already arranged to have one of the crew call me.” He glanced at his watch. “In fifteen minutes. So, it's into the water with you, missy."
"Yes, sir.” She saluted him, and then holding onto Matthew and the rail, she slowly and painfully sank into the heated, bubbling, depths. “Ah, heaven is a hot tub."
"I see that by your smile.” Matthew settled next to her.
"Yes.” A movement in the window of the darkened study caught her eye.
"See? My bodyguard is on duty."
"Well, you're lucky to have him.” She turned to Matthew and winced.
"Here, let me help.” Before she knew it, he was sitting behind her, massaging her shoulders. “How's that?"