Meet Your Mate Page 12

  "Carla!” Brielle's fists clenched. The brunette had gone too far. So what if the men were bigger than normal and their polyester suits and psychedelic shirts did nothing for their charm? They were human. And under the slicked-back hair and thick glasses were two endearing men, her intuition insisted.

  "Don't listen to her. She misses her snake.” Brielle looked into their brown eyes and smiled. “I'd be happy to dance with you.” Shoving a stone-faced Carla out of the way, she picked up the music's beat and began to sway, keeping it simple.

  "Me, too.” Danni joined her and the two, now grinning, men.

  "Me, three.” Mandy squeezed in with a giggle. “I don't think Matthew would mind. It's just a friendly dance."

  Carla scowled, then turned to the Calvin Klein clad man next to her and smiled. “You're more like it."

  Several people looked on, grimacing at their partners’ clumsy dance moves. Brielle ignored them and her sore muscles as she concentrated on having fun.

  "Oh, sorry,” one of the men said after stepping on her toes.

  "It's okay.” She smiled and leaned closer. “I only use the bottoms."

  Amusement warmed his brown eyes as he tried to pick up the beat.

  She shivered. “Have we met?"

  He shook his head. “No. I think you would've remembered someone as big as me."

  Unsure what to say, she smiled and continued to dance until two songs later when Bill appeared and pulled them from the floor.

  "Matthew and Jack are here. It's time to go into the private room.” He ushered them through the crowd, barely giving them a chance to say good-bye to the men.

  "Hello, ladies,” Greg greeted as they joined him in posh red room housing a couple of round booths, small dance floor—and pole.

  Brielle stopped dead.

  "Hey!” Carla bumped into her. “What's your problem?"

  "Nothing.” She swallowed and proceeded into the room.

  "If you would please sit, ladies, I will explain why I'm here.” The host motioned to a booth and waited until they were all seated. “As you know, you were supposed to meet Matthew and Jack for a night of dancing."

  "Yes, where are they? What's going on?” Carla asked, her red-tipped nail tapping the table.

  "Yeah, are they okay?” Mandy frowned, concern filling her blue eyes.

  Brielle glanced from the blonde to the host, and did her best to ignore the pole behind him.

  "The men are fine. In fact...” Greg paused to smile. “They have been here all along."

  "What?” Carla sat up straight, her brows colliding.

  "Were they hiding?” Danni glanced around the room.

  What's next?

  Mandy grimaced. “Did they see us dancing with those two men?"

  "Yes, as a matter of fact they did, Mandy.” Greg's smile broadened.

  "Are they mad?” The blonde bit her lower lip.

  "I'll let you ask them. Here they are now.” He pointed toward the door.

  Gasps filled the air as the two heavyset men entered the room.

  "I'll be...” Brielle smiled. No wonder the one seemed familiar.

  "What are you two doing in here?” Carla asked, distaste wrinkling her nose. “Go away. Leave us alone."

  "Sorry, but, we can't do that, Carla,” said the man in blue polyester.

  The other spoke up. “Yeah, we're supposed to be here. We're your escorts."

  "What?” The brunette's frown turned into wide-eyed surprise as the men took off their glasses and wigs and dropped them onto a table.

  "Top-notch disguise, guys.” Brielle gave them a thumbs-up. If it hadn't been for her awareness to Jack, she never would've had a clue. Incredible.

  "Yeah, well, your reactions were important to me,” Matthew said as his brother helped him peel off his bulky suit, like a peanut in a shell. “I found them ... interesting.” His glance zeroed in on the black-haired beauty while he helped Jack shed his camouflage.

  Carla sat back and slid down. Brielle almost felt sorry for the woman. Almost.

  "Well, now that you know who you were dancing with,” Greg said, gaining their attention. “It's time to continue with this group date. Remember ladies, elimination is two nights away."

  The girls murmured. Brielle should've been watching their reactions, but Jack's sexy attire captured her attention. Dressed in a cobalt blue buttoned-down shirt and black pants, his hinted-at-form made her mouth water. After her take-down of him and their wrestling the other night, she knew every inch of him to be fit. Her body heated, remembering what it'd felt like to straddle his hard length.

  "Matthew, Jack, if you'll join me.” Greg motioned to his side and waited as Jack removed his brown contacts. “The proprietor of this establishment is having a dance contest tonight and you've both been entered."

  "What?” They spoke in unison. Clearly, this was a surprise to both.

  "Yes, the producers thought it would be fun, so now all you need is your partners.” Greg looked at the girls.

  She shifted in her seat. Don't even think it.

  "In this box I'm putting colored disks that match the ladies’ dresses.” Greg held up purple, red, green, and blue circles.

  "Now I know why we're color coded.” She looked down at her red dress.

  Mandy giggled, glancing at her blue dress. “I thought they wanted us to look like ice pops."

  "Yeah, I feel like a purple crayon.” Danni smiled. “But Carla just looks a little green."

  Brielle glanced at the scowling woman, swallowing her comments when Greg continued.

  "Matthew, you will pick first.” Greg held the box high and Matthew pulled out a blue circle. “Blue, looks like Mandy will be your partner."

  "Oh, I won again. Yay!” She clapped, then knocked Carla out of the booth and hurried to the smiling Matthew.

  "Jack, it's your turn. Pick a circle.” Greg held the box and Jack stuck his hand inside.

  Chapter Ten

  Please ... please ... Brielle silently prayed, unsure whether she wanted to be picked or not. Her pulse hammered, drying her throat as she waited for Jack's hand to come out of the box.

  "And Jack has picked ... red. Brielle, looks like you'll be partners with Jack.” Greg smiled, holding up the red disk. “Come on up, and I'll explain the rules."

  "No,” Brielle whispered while her body screamed yes! She slipped from the booth, noting Carla's scowl and Dannie's slumped shoulders.

  "Okay, you will have twenty minutes to practice before you take the floor out there.” Greg motioned toward the door. “This is supposed to be an impromptu dance, but you're allowed a few minutes to get used to your song."

  "What's our song?” Matthew asked.

  "Yours and Mandy's song is on the player in here, and Jack's and Brielle's is in the next room. So, if you other ladies will follow me, I'll escort you out to a special booth in the club.” Frowning, Carla and Danni rose to their feet and accompanied the host through the door.

  Jack rounded on his brother. “Did you know about this?"

  "No, but I think it sounds like fun.” He grabbed Mandy's hand and led her to the music system in the corner. “I suggest you use your time wisely, Bro, because Mandy and I intend to win."

  "I wonder what song we got.” Mandy pushed the button and a popular, hip tune filled the room.

  "Come on.” Jack seized Brielle's hand and tugged her down the hall and into the next room, slamming the door shut behind them. “I can't believe this! How am I supposed to keep an eye on him if we're separated?"

  He dropped her hand to rake his hair. She understood his frustration. How could they keep Matthew safe if they were both in here? The producers knew better!

  "I guess it's another one of those things I'm supposed to go with.” Jack scowled, pacing the dance floor. “Matthew's lost his mind."

  She didn't know how to respond. The investigator in her wanted to agree with him and sneak back to watch Matthew, but she knew it would raise eyebrows. Especially Jack's.

 
; "No, he's just trying to have fun.” She felt awkward as hell. The last time she'd spoken to Jack, she had been half-naked straddling his groin and now they were alone, in a private dance room—with a pole.

  "Great. You're as bad as them.” He brushed past her to throw himself into a booth.

  "What's that supposed to mean?” Hands gripping her hips, she stared down at him.

  "Nothing. I just forgot my place for a moment.” His sarcasm filled the room. “Thanks to this damn show, I don't even know who I am anymore."

  More than just Matthew's dilemma ate at this man's gut. Her eyes narrowed. “What's bothering you, Jack?"

  He lifted his head, and their gazes locked. Her heart stopped. Uncertainty, longing and anger chased through his eyes before a cool façade slipped over his face. “Nothing. Forget it. Why don't you turn the music on, and we'll see what we're supposed to dance to?"

  She hesitated. Something was bothering him. Was there another threat? No. She'd talked to Uncle Franco this morning to inform him the extra cameras were in place in the security room. He would've told her if there was a new threat. So what could it be? She eyed Jack for a moment, then shrugged and walked over to the player.

  "Okay, here we go.” She turned the music on and a popular Latin song from one of her routines at The Limelight filled the room. “Great,” she said under her breath. “I'm toast."

  Reluctance slowing her steps, she walked to the dance floor, then slowly lifted her gaze to Jack. Her pulse raced. He sat, looking up at her, just like Dodger. She glanced away. I can't do this.

  "Okay, dance instructor, let's see what you've got.” He leaned back, his eyes daring her to dance. “What's wrong? Afraid I might discover your secret?"

  "W-what secret?” She cursed her wobbly voice.

  "That you're not really a dancer.” Jack's lazy appraisal heated her blood. “I know you're hiding something, Brielle.” He leaned forward. “I can taste it."

  What should she do? Proving she could dance was easy, but he might recognize her. On the other hand, if she didn't dance, then he might suspect her of making the threats and miss out on the real offender.

  "Well? What's wrong?” He smiled, folding his arms across his chest. “Afraid I might find out?"

  "No.” Her chin lifted.

  "Then dance for me, Brielle.” His sexy invitation sent gooseflesh over her skin and determination up her spine.

  She smiled down at him. Fine, he wanted to see her dance? She'd dance. Arms above her head, she slowly swayed, her body expressing the song's sensual feel. Jack sat up, his mouth open. She turned her back and shimmied to the floor, then grabbed the pole and gradually stood.

  "It is you!” Jack's breath washed over her shoulders in an invigorated whisper.

  Her heart hip-hopped off the floor. When had he stepped behind her? Drawing in a breath, she slowly turned around. Eyes bright, he looked her up and down.

  "I knew I recognized those legs. No way could there be two pair that...” his voice trailed off as his gaze found hers. “You are Ariel."

  She swallowed. “Yes. Or at least, I was.” The less she said the better.

  "It's all right. You're secret's safe with me.” He nodded, his expression serious. “I won't tell Matthew. I think that's something the two of you should discuss."

  "Thanks.” She nodded back, then added, “It's amazing what one would do for their career."

  "Don't I know?” He pointed to the cameraman in the corner. “Like agree to go on a television show."

  "Exactly.” She smiled, relieved he wasn't pushing further. “So, now what?"

  "Now, we practice our dance so we can go out there and win one for the working man.” He raised his fist and grinned, the aloofness in his eyes melting into warmth.

  "Yes, sir!” She saluted. “Sorry, I couldn't resist.” They laughed and when the song reset, they began to dance.

  A natural, Jack's body swayed in perfect rhythm with hers and they moved across the floor like one. Hugging her from behind, he mimicked her fluid movements, turning her blood into liquid lava, and her body into a heightened sensual receptor. Pressure—climbing, gnawing, building to eruption—screamed for release, making each touch, every brush erotic.

  The song ended. But not her desire.

  Racked with need and yearning, her body continued its tango to his special tune. All those nights of dancing for Jack were nothing compared to dancing with Jack.

  Hot breath washed over her chest when he held her in a dip, his mouth a mere inch from her flesh. Her body hummed, anticipating, waiting for him to make a move.

  His gaze fastened on hers. Hunger and passion intensified his eyes to sapphire, mirroring her delicious ache. Her purpose, her job, the cameraman, the investigation, all reason left Brielle. She trembled into him. She was done fighting their attraction.

  A growl rumbled deep in his throat as he took her lips with an intensity that liquefied her core. Heaven. She knew he'd feel wonderful and their kiss would be incredible, but she never expected her reaction to be so fierce. Need consumed her being at a rapid rate. She pushed him against the pole, every inch of her straining to get close. Hard muscles rippled beneath her fingers as they slid up his chest. Jack deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into her welcoming mouth. He tasted minty, hot and primal. She couldn't get enough—couldn't stop—didn't want to stop.

  Jack's hands, warm on her bare back, ran down her spine, over her bottom, then back up again. Throbbing with a need born over a year ago, she didn't protest when he backed her up against the wall and pressed into her until she cried out, “Dodger."

  He pulled away, blinking. “What did you call me?"

  "Dodger,” she said between kisses placed on his chin and mouth. “It's the nickname I gave you because of the hat you wore at The Limelight.” His neck vibrated under her lips as he laughed.

  "That's funny, because Dodger happens to be my nickname.” He nibbled behind her ear. “I got it in the Middle East for dodging bullets.” His lips scorched a trail over her neck before reclaiming her mouth.

  Lost in a world of new sensations, she slid her hands around his back and clung to his shoulder blades, while meeting his tongue's passionate demand.

  "Jack, Brielle, you're on in two minutes,” Greg announced, his knuckles rapping on the closed door.

  Knocked back to reality, they broke apart, blinking at each other as they drew in several ragged breaths. Two minutes for what? Her fuzzy brain couldn't compute. Inhaling deeply, she became aware of her surroundings. Music replaced the sound of her passion-induced heartbeat while her mind registered Jack's flushed expression and the cameraman's grin.

  What the hell did I just do?

  "Brielle I—"

  "It's time,” Greg cut Jack off as he walked into the room. “You're up."

  * * * *

  Chlorine assaulted Jack's nose when he stepped into the mansion's indoor recreation room, complete with pool, sauna, Jacuzzi, and bar, the following afternoon. He needed to work off some steam and the punching bag wasn't going to cut it today.

  He dropped his towel on a chair, executed a running dive into the tepid water and didn't ease his strokes until he reached the other side. Surfacing, he drew in air, then immediately switched to the breaststroke and set out across the pool.

  Last night, he'd made the biggest mistake of his life. And yet, Jack hesitated to call it that, because kissing Brielle was also the most incredible experience of his life. Never had a woman accelerated him to the point of explosion with just a dance and a few kisses. When he'd returned to the mansion early this morning, he had to stand under the cold shower for a full twenty-five minutes. A record for Capt. Jack Anderson—whose heart dodged entanglements faster than he dodged bullets.

  Reaching the pool's edge, he turned around and backstroked to the other end. He was an idiot! How could he give into his desires and think about himself when his brother's heart and life were at stake?

  Silently cursing his soul, he kicked harder. He was sc
um. No. He was worse than scum on scum. How could he do that to his brother? Brielle was here for Matthew. Never mind that the women had returned his kisses.

  His pace slowed and he smiled. She returned them all right. How could a woman kiss him like that if she had feelings for Matthew?

  "There you are, Jack. I've been looking for you.” His brother draped a towel next to his on the chair.

  Jack stilled. “Why? Is something wrong? Has something happened?” Feet now firmly planted on the bottom, he stood.

  "No. No. Nothing like that. Geez, calm down.” Matthew walked to the edge to peer into the water. “Boy, for someone who won the dance contest with the beautiful Brielle last night, you're awfully testy."

  He answered by swimming away. His groin needed no reminding of that dance. Laughter echoed through the room. Annoyance bristled across Jack's shoulder blades. I don't need his sense of humor, either.

  "Yes, I'm definitely sensing some stress.” Matthew dove into the water and surfaced a few feet away. “Care to tell me about it?"

  "No. There's nothing to tell.” Jack floated on his back and closed his eyes. Maybe Matthew will go away. He wasn't ready to confess, not yet.

  Twisting around, he dove under the water, kicking until he ran out of air. How did he tell his brother he'd shared a mind-blowing kiss with one of his possible girlfriends? Not a mere brush of the lips like last time—this was full-out incredible.

  His pulse accelerated. Damn. Just thinking about the embrace sparked a longing he didn't need.

  I have to tell Matthew. Jack hated liars. There was nothing worse than a liar. He turned and swam for his brother.

  "Change your mind? Why is it you get stressed when I mention that woman's name?” Matthew smiled and treaded water in his direction.

  He snorted. Why indeed? “Look, about last night."

  "You two were amazing.” Matthew shook his head, his eyes dreamy as if reviewing the scene. “The way you moved as one ... it was"—he glanced at Jack—"incredible."

  Jack swallowed. “I know.” He took a deep breath and looked Matthew in the eye. “That's because just before we came out, we shared the most unbelievable kiss."