Meet Your Mate Page 14

  "Yeah, but that was to go to the bathroom. Surely Jack doesn't think we wrote the note?” Mandy frowned.

  "I would,” Danni said, looking at the blonde.

  Switching her attention to the teacher, Brielle fell silent again, waiting for the woman to continue.

  "You would?” Mandy turned a widened gaze to Danni. “Why would he suspect me? You could've written it too, you know."

  "I know.” Danni smiled patiently, treating the blonde like one of her third grade students. Brielle chewed her lower lip and watched. “We all could've. That's why he wants to question us."

  Mandy cocked her head. “Oh.” She frowned, clearly deep in thought. “Okay."

  "I'm glad you all understand.” At the sound of Jack's voice, Brielle faced the doorway. He stood on the landing with Matthew and Rodriguez, his body erect, skin taught across his cheekbones. “Since you're already standing, Mandy, I'll talk to you first.” He ushered the frowning blonde into the study, his gaze briefly meeting Brielle's before he closed the door.

  Her heart lurched at the fatigue behind his eyes. She needed to solve this case. But with fingerprints that could be explained away, dropped notes everyone had opportunity to place, and cameras being mysteriously turned off—that was easier said than done. Her fists clenched. Once again, the damn variables she'd warned her uncle about stood in her way.

  "If you'll excuse me, I'd better use the powder room before it's my turn.” Danni stood.

  Matthew nodded, moving from the door to allow the woman to pass along with Rodriguez. Brielle's brows rose.

  "Jack's new rules. No one is to be alone.” Matthew ambled down the steps toward her. “I'm glad we have a few minutes. I wanted to ask you something."

  "Go ahead.” She rose to her feet, rubbing the stiffness from her backside. “Sorry, the boat accident reaffirmed my horse allergy."

  He smiled. “Then I'll make this quick and try not to neigh."

  She returned his smile. “Well, I wouldn't want to see you bust a blood vessel. Now,” she sobered and looked into his eyes, “What can I do for you? Have they found something else in the limo?"

  "No. You're uncle and Jack's men are still running tests. What I wanted to ask has nothing to do with that.” He looked up at his painting, hanging behind her and sighed. “I wanted to ask you if you'd mind going out on tomorrow's one-on-one date?"

  Her brows rose, again. That was the last thing she expected.

  Matthew laughed. “Before you say anything, hear me out. I know you have a thing for my brother—which is great by the way—but I have a gallery commitment I can't get out of, and the showing is tomorrow. So,” he ran a hand through his hair, then gave her a lopsided grin, “Since you're the only one who knows my true identity, I'd really appreciate it if you'd accompany me to the gallery tomorrow night. The producers have already okayed it."

  She touched his arm and smiled. “Of course I would. I understand you still don't want to reveal that part of you to the others just yet."

  "You're right. I don't. Thanks, Brielle.” He patted her hand. “I'll explain things to Jack, when he's not so preoccupied, but I'm supposed to announce it before you all leave, tonight. Producers’ orders."

  The study door opened, and Mandy re-entered the room, her face flushed.

  "Where's Danni?” Jack frowned, glancing around the room.

  "She went to the bathroom.” Matthew held up his hand as Jack's mouth opened and his brow wrinkled. “Hold on, don't worry, Rodriguez went with her."

  "Eew. I hope you don't expect me to—"

  "No, it's all right, Mandy. He's staying outside the bathroom. It's for everyone's safety,” Matthew informed.

  "Right.” Jack looked to Brielle and motioned toward the study. “I guess that makes you next."

  Doing her best not to give into her urge to run so she could finally be alone with him, Brielle crossed the room at a normal pace. Pulse leaping as the door shut behind her, she turned to him.

  He cupped her face and searched her eyes. “You're not hurt?” When she shook her head, his hands dropped to glide over her arms while he looked her up and down.

  "I'm fine. No bruises. Honest."

  Sighing, Jack pressed his forehead to hers. “Thank goodness. When I think about what could've happened...” His voice trailed off as his grip tightened on her arms.

  Her throat grew hot. The intensity of Jack's emotions touched her deeply but the tenderness of his kiss as his lips caressed hers took her breath away.

  "I want you to be safe, Brielle.” His mouth lingered a moment before trailing kisses to her temple and back again.

  Desire shot through her, sparking the need only Jack could assuage. She rose up on tiptoe, asking him—inviting him—begging him to fill the void between their bodies.

  But he didn't. He drew back slowly, his breath washing over her in a final caress. “We need to talk."

  She blinked. “Okay."

  He grabbed her hand and led her to the couch. Her pulse quickened. What did he want? Knees touching, he studied their clasped fingers a moment before he spoke. “Brielle, I have something to ask you."

  They both jumped as the cameraman knocked over the garbage can in his haste to move in closer.

  Jack scowled at the man, then squeezed her fingers and looked into her eyes. “I like you, Brielle. A lot. You're different from any woman I've ever met ... or ever likely to meet.” His blue eyes radiated the same genuine emotion as his smile.

  Her heart tripped over itself, silently urging him to continue.

  "Not counting The Limelight, I know it's only been nine days since we've met, but this connection between us is strong, and unless I'm badly mistaken, you feel it, too.” His eyes searched hers in silent question.

  "Yes, very much so.” Her reassurance brought his smile back. “So what did you want to ask?"

  His joy faded along with her heartbeats. “I want you to voluntarily leave the show."

  "What?"

  He squeezed her hands again. “I know my parents wanted you on the show, and that Matthew has kept you here because of it, but, you have to understand, your presence is keeping me from doing my job. As I've already told you, you're distracting me, and with my brother's life at stake, I can't have that."

  Her heart hammered out of control. What should she do?

  "Please, Brielle, leave the show for me. For my sake.” His eyes begged. “Whoever's making these threats is getting more aggressive and I want you safe. I can't protect you and Matthew at the same time, and I don't want to be forced to make a choice."

  Closing her eyes, she pulled in a breath, then exhaled. “Jack, please,” she opened her eyes and swallowed. “Please don't ask this of me."

  "I'm sorry. I know it's a lot to ask, pulling out on national television.” He brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them. “But I really need you to do this for me."

  Her heart constricted. This wasn't happening. How did she get out of this without hurting him? “Jack, I would do anything for you, but ... I can't leave."

  Blinking, his gaze lost its warm. “I see.” He dropped her hands.

  She shivered and reached for him, but he stood and moved away. Jumping to her feet, she followed. “Jack, hear me out, please."

  He turned around and leaned against the desk. Folding his arms across his chest, he nodded. “Go ahead."

  Not exactly encouraging, but she'd take it nonetheless. “You already know I like you.” His eyes narrowed but he said nothing so she continued. “My word is important to me and when I give it, I have to follow things through. No matter what."

  Understanding flashed briefly through his eyes before disappearing behind an aloof façade. “Who have you given your word to? Matthew?"

  "Yes.” Hope quickened the beat of her heart. “Just before I came in here he asked me to be his date tomorrow night for a one-on-one to a gallery showing."

  "Oh? Forgive me, but didn't you just tell me I was the one you liked? That you had a connection with me?�
�� He cocked his head and stared down at her.

  "You know I did. It is you I like, Jack.” She touched his arm.

  "Then why would you accept a date with Matthew? Huh? What kind of game are you playing?” He brushed her hand away and moved past her.

  She turned to watch him. “I'm not playing any games, Jack. Matthew asked me to go with him to the gallery because I already know his true identity."

  He swung around to face her. “You do?"

  "Yes. I know he's Andy Matthews. So you see? I can't leave because I already agreed to go with him tomorrow night.” She stared at him, hoping her flimsy excuse would hold.

  It didn't.

  His unfriendly gaze narrowed. “You couldn't pass up the chance to accompany the famous artist to a public showing.” The bitterness in his voice hollowed her stomach.

  "Jack! No, it's not like that.” Despite his demeanor, she went to him. “How could you even think that?"

  "It was very easy, really.” He smiled without mirth. “Tell me, how long have you known my brother's true identity?"

  Her heart sank. “I figured it out that first night."

  His cold glare chilled her spine. “So you thought you'd dally with his brother, while you waited for him to pick you."

  "No! That's not true! Why would you even think that?” She reached out to caress his face.

  "Because it's the logical conclusion.” He knocked her hand aside and walked past her to his desk.

  He's right. Her response to him could seem like a put on. After all, she was a contestant on a show to find his brother a mate. He doesn't know your real reason for being here. He's not like Brent. Tell him.

  Her chest tightened. She had to break her promise to his parents. Keeping him in the dark, now that their feelings were on the line, was a big mistake. She just hoped breaking her word yielded better results than the only other time she'd compromised her job. Exhaling, she approached the desk, intent on telling him everything—until he spoke.

  "It's all right, Ms. Bennett. My mistake.” The hateful look in his eyes closed her mouth. “I knew you were hiding something, but I assumed it was your Ariel job. Guess it's true what they say about assuming.” His bitter laugh filled the room. “I think we're through, but before you go, I need you to rewrite this note.” He thrust a red marker at her.

  Noticing, for the first time, a pile of yellow notes, the top one with Mandy's name written in ink near the bottom corner, Brielle took the marker and did as requested. Her mind told her Jack was being a thorough investigator, but her heart screamed that he should've trusted her.

  "You do realize anyone could deliberately change their style of writing?” She placed the marker down and pushed her note toward him.

  "Yes, that's why these will be going to a handwriting analyst.” He scribbled her name on the bottom, then placed it on top of the pile. “Don't try to be an investigator, honey. Stick with dancing. It's what you do best."

  Gut quivering as if punched, she sucked in a breath. Did she give into the anger stiffening her spine and clenching her fist? Or the hot tears burning her throat? They neutralized each other and flattened her voice. “I'm beginning to think that was the only thing you liked about me.” She looked him in the eyes, then added, “Dodger."

  He cocked his head. “At least I'm honest. Tell me, Ms. Bennett—if that's your real name—what are you, a plant from the studio? Were you going to try and pit me against my brother for ratings?” Seating himself behind the desk, he looked up at her. “What happened to your smart answers, Brielle? Have I hit home?"

  Her gaze fell to his hat, sitting on the blotter. “You couldn't be further from the truth.” Picking it up, she ran her finger over the name, each letter tightening the noose around her heart. “You're more like your nickname than you think."

  He yanked the hat from her fingers. “And why is that?"

  She swallowed past her tight throat and dropped her hands. “Because it's more than bullets you dodge, Jack."

  "What's that supposed to mean?” He scowled, flinging his hat across the room. She watched the cap land on the floor and skid to a halt near the door, then turned back to face him.

  "It means you have commitment issues.” Placing her hands on the desk, she leaned toward him. “The minute things start to get serious; you grasp any excuse to halt your relationship."

  "Spare me the Freudian crap, Ms. Know-it-all. I'd call a publicity seeker a legitimate excuse, wouldn't you?"

  "Publicity seeker? You don't seriously think that's what I am?” She frowned, shaking her head. “Boy, someone really did a number on you. Why can't you just trust me, Jack?"

  "Trust you?” He sat back laughing. “You've given me no reason to trust you, Brielle. And you're intoxicating kisses don't count, although they did have me fooled."

  His words sent a knife into her strangled heart. “I'm sorry you feel I was playing with you, Jack."

  "Well, weren't you? Biding your time until Matthew noticed you, and having me to fall back on in case he didn't?"

  The knife twisted further. “Once you've learned the truth, you're going to regret those words."

  Slowly rising to his feet, he leaned across the desk again, his face a mere inch from hers. “Is that a threat, Ms. Bennett?"

  "No, Jack.” A tear ran down her cheek. “It's a fact.” Standing straight, she swiped at her face. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a date to accept."

  Back turned to him, she stepped over his hat and walked out the door. Twice now, she'd investigated reality television. Twice now, she'd fallen for someone on the show. Well, no more. Although, Jack wasn't the scum Brent was, the results proved the same thing—business and her personal life didn't mix. Brielle Chapman was cured. With the personal part a dead issue, she was determined to solve this case, restore her confidence in her professional capabilities and get off this damn show.

  Chapter Twelve

  "Brielle, are you ready?” Danni knocked on her door. “The limo will be here any minute now."

  She swallowed a groan. The producers needed their heads examined—again. What where they thinking, throwing the five of them together on a yacht for the weekend? Every stunt they came up with was more dangerous than the last.

  "Yeah, just about.” She grabbed her luggage and heading for the door. On the bright side, at least the yacht would be smaller than these mansions, and Uncle Franco had promised to send some bugs and recording equipment with Matthew. Maybe she'd catch a break, and the case would be over by Monday.

  Pasting a smile on her face, she opened the door. “Ready."

  "Wow, you look great.” Danni eyed her white shorts and navy and white tank top with envy. “I wish I filled out my clothes like that."

  Brielle laughed. “You do. You look wonderful.” Dressed in similar clothes, the teacher looked great.

  "Wonderful? I need more than wonderful after your date with Matthew last night. You rendered both him and his brother speechless as you descended these stairs in that silver gown. It was stunning."

  A smile twisted Brielle's lips. Yeah, Jack had looked stunned all right, and hostile. She shuddered. “Funny, I got the impression Jack was happy to see me go."

  "Jack? He's always neutral, never says anything.” Danni squeezed her arm. “But he wasn't his usual witty self. In fact, he was a bear, grumbling as we played pool. It's a wonder the balls didn't disintegrate, he smacked them so hard. And when we switched to darts? The way he impaled them into the dartboard it'll take pliers to remove them.” She winked as they reached the foyer. “If I didn't know better, I'd say you've got him hooked too."

  Brielle snorted. If Danni only knew. “Sure, I've got him hooked. Hooked on thinking I'm after publicity."

  "Matthew thinks you're after publicity?” Mandy approached in a stunning white and red sundress.

  "Not Matthew, Jack,” Danni corrected, then turned saucer-like eyes on Brielle. “Did he really say that to you?"

  "Yeah. The other night.” Her grip tightened on her b
ag. She'd wasted enough time and energy hurting over that man. The only way to get on with this case was to put Jack behind her. “But it doesn't matter. He's not the reason I'm here."

  Chimes echoed through the house, ending their conversation.

  An hour later, as she stepped off the plank and onto the triple-decked yacht, her stomach contained more knots than Jacob's ladder. She hadn't talked to Jack since their blow out and wasn't eager to be thrown in his company again. Tilting her face to the sun, she closed her eyes and let the salty sea air calm her nerves.

  "Hello, ladies. I'm looking forward to our weekend.” Matthew's voice forced her eyes open. He stepped forward and greeted each of them with a kiss on the cheek.

  "Oh, me too. I just love yachts.” Mandy hooked her arm through his. That's all the woman had talked about during the hour they'd been stuck in the limo thanks to Friday's mid-morning traffic.

  "And this one's a beauty.” Danni claimed Matthew's free arm, then smiled at his brother. “Hi, Jack."

  "Hello, Danni, ladies."

  Her nerves lessened. That wasn't so bad. No hostility, just a guarded tolerant expression. She could deal with guarded. That hurt a lot less.

  Danni turned toward them. “Jack, surely you wouldn't mind escorting Brielle in?"

  Would twenty years to life be worth it for strangling the teacher? Yes, Brielle decided, returning the woman's smile with a scowl. What was Danni trying to do—push her on Jack so Matthew would be free? Yes, she answered again, smacked in the face with the reminder this was a competition, not a circle of friends.

  With all eyes on her, she had no choice but to take Jack's arm. Ignoring the cameramen and their constant in-your-face shots proved to be easier than ignoring the increase in her body temperature when her bared skin met Jack's.

  She glanced at him from under her lashes. Did he have to be so darned ... virile? He looked sexy and unapproachable, like someone you should ignore but couldn't because you had to get a rise out of him. Her mouth watered, but common sense dictated she do nothing more than sweep her glance over his muscled body covered in a white buttoned-down shirt and navy shorts. She refused to respond to a man who thought so little of her. Now, if only her body would get with the game plan.