She Does Know Jack (15 page)

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. Although, how the hell she was going
to manage the stairs, she had no idea.

The couch held
infinite appeal.

“You need your
bathing suit, Brielle.” Danni said as Matthew helped the teacher out of the
limo. “I’d go get it, but you don’t have all night. Maybe Carla wouldn’t mind
running for it?”

Everyone stared
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. His hard body.
Intoxicating manly smell. She swallowed a groan. Cripes. She was going to have
to change his nickname from Dodger to Achilles. He was becoming her biggest
weakness.

“Here’s your
suit.” The model returned in record time and tossed the scrap of brown material
onto Brielle’s lap, snapping her back to reality. “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.

“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, the three contestants seemed like the winners to her.

S
ettled into a hidden spot on the
grounds, ready to act should things get out of hand, the shadowy figure
observed the men, waiting to make a move. Matthew sat relaxed, laughing with
his brother and the producer, seemingly accustomed to the cameras and crew.

Where’s 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
appeared in a brown bikini looking sexier than she should in such a drab color.
Tall, yet curvy, she was going to make a lot of men happy on national TV, and a
lot of women jealous. The dancer just better play the game right. She stepped
onto the patio looking victorious clutching a pair of ripped jeans.

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 broadcasted on national TV.”

Bill frowned.
“Too bad. That would’ve been great.”

The figure’s
grip tightened around the branch of a nearby tree. No. Matthew did not need to
be undressing this woman.

“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. Brielle did not look pleased. 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. Good girl.

“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 and help.”

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.
The more Jack was around Brielle, the better.

“Yes, it’s our
alone-time.” Matthew slung his arm around the frowning woman.

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.

Matthew guided
the slow moving woman to the steaming tub. “Your water awaits, my dear.”

Damn.
Looks
like I need to stick around.
The figure shifted position to get a better
view of the hot tub.
They’d better behave.

T
he back of Brielle’s neck tingled and
pricked like a swarm of bees brushed by. Someone was watching her. She glanced
over her shoulder, spotting shadows and trees…and Phil and the rest of the
cameramen. She laughed.
No shit Sherlock
. She
was
being watched.

Turning back to
face Matthew, she crossed her arms over her chest as they stood on the patio.
“Okay, Matthew, they’re gone. Where are my cameras?”

“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.” He
touched her elbow and continued to guide 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.”

The man had obviously
given this some thought. She ran his plan through her head and stopped at the
edge of the beckoning water.

“Sounds
feasible,” she said, motioning to the cell sitting on a nearby table. “But how
will you get your phone to ring?”

Brown eyes
twinkled down at her. “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.”

Satisfied with
the plan, she saluted him. “Yes, sir.”  Holding his hand and the rail, she
slowly and painfully sank into the heated, bubbling, depths. “Ah, heaven is a
hot tub.”

Matthew settled
next to her, set his watch aside and grinned. “I see that by your smile.”

About to reply,
she paused as movement in the window of the darkened study caught her eye.

He chuckled.
“See? My bodyguard is on duty.”

“Well, you’re
lucky to have him.” She turned to her companion and winced.

“Here, let me
help.” Before she knew it, he was sitting behind her, massaging her shoulders.
“How’s that?”

“I’ll let you
know in three—maybe four—hours.”

Her eyes
fluttered closed and she moaned, uncaring that the cameras probably zoomed in
on them. Her muscles were rejoicing and crying out for more. Hell, they were
doing the tango and proclaiming their undying love for the artist’s talented
hands. The only way it could feel better is if they were Jack’s.

Her eyes flew
open. Nope. Not going there. She instantly derailed that dangerous train of
thought. It was better to have Matthew’s hands on her. Yes. He was safe. His
art inspired emotions in her, not his hands. Okay, not true. Right now, his
fingers inspired a whole boat-load of gratitude from her abused muscles.

When he finished
with her neck, back and arms, he gently altered her position until she sat on
the bench with her legs across him. Cripes, she felt like a piece of clay. But
that was okay. It felt too damn good.

“Now that’s what
I’m talking about.” Her eyes closed again and she had all she could do not to
sink under the water. “I still can’t believe how sore I am.”

“Horses can take
their toll on a novice.”

She groaned.
“Did you have to say the ‘h’ word?”

He lifted her
leg out of the water and massaged from the knee to her foot. “What? Horse?” He
laughed.

“Yes.” She
groaned again. “I’ve just decided I’m allergic to them.”

“That’s too
ba-a-ad.” His sorry excuse for a neigh sounded more like a sick goat.

“Hey!” She
opened her eyes and cocked her head. “Don’t make me shoot you.” Then leaned
forward and tickled his side.

He laughed and
tried to scoot from her grasp, but thanks to their positions, she had him
pinned.

“Don’t let Jack
hear you say that, or he’ll have you in handcuffs.”

Brielle stilled,
and heat settled low in her belly—mostly because the idea appealed to her. And
the idea of handcuffing Jack. To a bed. Great. Now all her worthy parts were
hot and tingly.

“Speaking of
Jack.” Matthew glanced at the house as he drew her other leg out of the water.
“He’s right.”

She started to
relax and close her eyes again, loosing herself in the incredible massage.
“Yeah? What about?”

“About you
having great legs.”

Her eyes snapped
back open. “He said that?” She bounced her gaze between Matthew and the
mansion.

“Oh, yeah. And I
was serious when I said I thought he liked you. In fact,” Matthew’s grin grew
devious, “I’m betting that my dear brother is spitting bullets right now,
watching me touch your legs, wishing it were him.”

She
blinked…twice.
Jack likes my legs?
A thrill warmed her spine and further
south. But with the cameras right in her face, she wasn’t about to share her
growing feelings for the former Ranger with the world. When in trouble, fall
back on humor.

“He wishes you
were massaging his legs?”

Matthew threw
his head back and laughed. “No. You know what I mean.”

Just then, his
cell phone rang, saving her from having to respond.

“Ah. Right on
time. I’ll be back.” He winked, then got out to answer his phone.

The lights went
on in the study. She smirked and exchanged a look with Matthew before he
disappeared into the house, phone to his ear.

Maybe winning
that contest wasn’t so bad.
She sighed and sank deeper into the hot water. Good
company, free massage, security cameras, it wasn’t such a bad day after all.

Until the power
went out.

Brielle sat up
and scanned the darkened grounds and house. Adrenaline shot through her body,
numbing her pain as memory guided her out of the tub to a nearby towel. Quickly
drying off, she shushed the cameramen and told them to stay put as her eyes
adjusted to the moonlight.

Turning toward a
faint rustling, she skirted the chairs and closed in on a now visible shadow.
Her heart raced. Matthew? Jack? She stopped to listen. No. They would’ve called
to her, and since the cameramen were off to her left—she had an intruder.

Going into
attack mode, she positioned herself in the shadow’s path, then struck with a
diving roll that took the figure down. They wrestled, each taking turns on the
bottom until the intruder went slack and she pinned him to the ground—just as
the lights came on and cameras appeared in her face.

“Brielle, are
you all right?” Matthew ran toward her from the house.

She glanced over
and nodded. “Yes, go back inside and find your brother.”