She Does Know Jack (14 page)

“Go ahead, knock
yourself out.”

“Okay, great.” The
groom grasped her hand and led them toward another grove of trees, cameraman in
tow.

The area smelled
like pine and was private, quiet and cooler. She’d like to blame it on the
thirty-foot towering pines, but knew better. The drop in temperature had
nothing to do with the grove and everything to do with her lack of proximity to
a certain former Army Ranger.

 Matthew stopped
to glance around. “Look, I don’t know how long I have.”

Alarm instantly
shot to life, stiffening Brielle’s back while racing through her veins. “Why?”
Her gaze darted about, taking in their immediate surroundings. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing. I’m
sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He squeezed her hand as he leaned against a
tree, eyes crinkling at the corners. “I just wanted to pass a message to you
from your uncle. He stopped by the mansion before I left and dropped off the
cameras you requested.”

“Oh…good.” She
nodded, noticing several gazes trained on them, including Jack’s. No doubt
keeping an eye on his brother. She stepped in front of Matthew, turning her
back on temptation. Literally. The act of concentrating took a hike when that
man got in her head. “Where are they? In the limo’s trunk?”

“Not exactly.
They’re back at the mansion. But don’t worry. I’ve got them hidden. I couldn’t
sneak them with me. Jack’s been my shadow since that phone threat at the ball
game. It was a wonder your uncle got them to me.”

Fighting a
frown, she leaned toward him and smiled, even though it was the last thing she
felt like doing. “Lovely. And Uncle Franco couldn’t drop them off in my room
because of the cameras I insisted Jack place in there.” Those cameras were
becoming a pain. They’d forced her to transfer her laptop and phone to the vent
in her bathroom, and promptly stopped her showers. Well, hot ones, anyway. She
couldn’t risk the steam. Of course, lately all she’d required were cold ones.
“Do you have any idea how I can get them?”

“Yes, as a
matter of fact, I do.” Matthew’s fingers tightened around hers, and he tugged
until their bodies brushed. “We’re about to be interrupted, so listen up. If
you want to get those cameras tonight, then you’d better win that challenge.”

“Okay, Brielle,
you’ve had enough alone-time.” Carla’s angry tone echoed through the pines,
interrupting nature’s tranquility. “If you want more, then you’ll just have to
beat me at the range.”

Brielle freed
her fingers, stepped back and confronted the brunette head on. “Well, then
prepare to be beaten, Ms. Duke.” She smiled and, not waiting for a reply,
walked back to the others.

Jack’s
emotionless gaze held fast and gave nothing away as she passed. Had he heard
them? Her heart lurched. What would he think when he saw her shoot? She’d
probably be suspect number one. It couldn’t be helped. She needed those damn cameras
tonight. The quicker they were in place, the quicker she might catch something
and put an end to this reality nightmare.

“Okay, ladies,
it’s time to start the challenge,” Bill announced, waiting for everyone to
gather around before he continued, “Greg, your host, is already at the range
and will explain the rules once we arrive.”

Following the
crowd in silence, she watched and listened to the girls muse in front of her
over what the alone-time could be. Matthew had already alluded that to her, but
she kept quiet as they walked.

“Can you tell
us?” Mandy asked Matthew, batting her lashes.

“No, he can’t,”
Bill cut in. “I’m sure you understand.”

The blonde
slowly nodded. “Yes. Show rules.” Her famous pout made an appearance. “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?”

“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.”

Brielle watched
Jack break away to talk to both his and Uncle Franco’s men. She scanned their
faces, pleased to note the DeMarco employees showed no signs of recognition.
Her cover was safe. 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 estimated 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

Greg appeared
near a grassy knoll. “Okay, ladies, if you’ll join me over here.”

Impeccably
dressed as usual, the handsome host oozed charm and managed to not look out of
place despite his suit and tie.

“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 the alone-time takes place.”
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,
the other contestants clapped, but all Brielle managed to do was force a smile.
Oh joy. Another excuse for the world to see her in her bathing suit. If she
won, of course. And of course, she’d win. She had to. She needed those damn
cameras. And just like the old saying, failure was not an option.

“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 the former Ranger the spotlight.

“The rules are
pretty simple, ladies. 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 right 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. Correction. The
walking wall
. Jeez, that guy was huge. His
biceps were bigger than her thighs. She sure as hell hoped he wasn’t the
culprit. It would take three men and a lady to bring that guy down. With a
bulldozer. And even then it would be sketchy.

 “Rodriguez,”
Jack said. “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 turned to
glance behind her, then swiveled back to the large man. “Oh, you mean me!” She
giggled as she followed. “Sorry, I’m not used to being called ma’am.”

Carla sidled up
next to Brielle and whispered, “You’re only postponing the inevitable.” 

B
rielle had lucked out, drawing the
smallest straw which put her last in the line up to shoot. Exactly what she’d
hoped. This gave her a huge advantage. Now, she knew what score to beat. The
girls shot at the closest target—fifty meters—using a 9 mm and were allowed a
full clip of seventeen rounds. Way too easy for her. It really wasn’t fair.

Carla’s target
held the best score so far; six bulls-eyes and eleven in the surrounding
circle. Danni’s had three bulls-eyes, seven in the surrounding circle and the
rest scattered on the target. Even Mandy had managed to nick the bulls-eye
before the gun’s recoil knocked her on her barely concealed behind.

“You’re up,
Brielle.” Greg motioned toward the now vacant stall.

 “Good luck.”
Danni nodded.

Mandy raised a fist
and a smile. “Yeah, beat Carla’s butt.”

Despite being
impressed with the way Jack and his men were handling the competition, Brielle
had kept a watchful eye on the women the whole time. Surprisingly, the air held
no vestiges of threat. One at a time, the contestants held the gun, shot at the
target, then placed the weapon down. They never even glanced at the groom. Now,
only Jack and his men were near the guns. But, she’d still feel better getting
Matthew away from the range. And if it weren’t for the damn cameras sitting at
his mansion, she’d be placing her bullets as far away from the center as
possible.

“Here, Brielle.”
Jack handed her the gun, safety on.

A Glock G17 9mm.
Well what do you know? Her weapon of choice. She took the gun from him and hid
a smile. Those cameras were as good as hers.

“Do you need me
to walk you through it?” Jack asked, eyebrows raised, gaze watchful.        

“No thanks. That
won’t be necessary.” She waited for him to move away and assume the stance he’d
adopted during each of the contestants’ turns. Feet shoulder-width apart, arms
crossed behind him in an at-ease position, he stood just off to her right.

Damn man was
even sexier when he gave off this confident, in-charge aura. Heat flooded her
body, lingering in all the good places
he’d
lingered
once-upon-a-dressing room. Must be the mirrored, aviator sunglasses he’d donned
at the start of the competition. Cripes. She was hopeless.

This was no time
to be a woman.

She drew in a
breath, flipped off the safety and aimed the gun.
Keep your mind on work
.
She thought about hitting the bulls-eye with seven bullets, just enough to win,
but then Carla’s snicker and
lethal ballerina
remark drifted to her
ears. That did it. Her competitor side took over.
Time to win some cameras
.
Emptying her mind of everything but her goal, she squeezed off all seventeen
rounds in succession before exhaling. Done. Satisfied with her effort, she
slipped the safety back on, then turned to Jack. 

Mouth opened, he
ripped off his glasses and stared wide eyed at her. She would’ve laughed at his
stunned expression, but the suspicious gleam entering his eyes held her back.
Idiot!
She should’ve stuck with seven.

“Here you go.”
She smiled, and he barely moved when she placed the spent weapon in his hand.
Still nothing.
Way to go, Brielle
. She swiveled to face the group. “Now,
what about that horseback riding?”

“Wait! What was
her score?” Carla stomped forward, frowning at the dumbfounded men blinking at
Brielle. “Well?”

Jack cleared his
throat. “Rodriguez, go get the target,” he ordered, voice gruff, eyes dull and
leery.

Yeah, placing
eight would’ve been much smarter. Too bad she had her dumb on today. Uncle
Franco always said her competitive streak was going to get her in trouble one
day.

Today could be
that very day.

Rodriguez
retrieved the target and marched back to the group. “It looks to be a perfect
score. Seventeen out of seventeen,” Rodriguez replied, handing the paper to
Jack.

Carla scowled.
“Jesus, ballerina. What do you do, sleep with that thing?”

It was on the
tip of her tongue to say ‘yes’ because, until she’d suggested to have those
damn cameras installed in her room, Brielle had in fact slept with her Glock
under her pillow every night.

Danni smiled.
“Where’d you learn to shoot like that?”

Shoot. The one
question she was hoping to avoid. Refusing to give into the urge to glance at
Jack, Brielle grasped at the first thing that came to mind.

“The pier.”

Which wasn’t a
lie. Brielle had spent a lot of teenage days relieving her anger in the arcade
at the pier.

“Holy shit. Let
me see that.” Matthew swiped the target from a silent Jack. “Brielle. You shot
out the bulls-eye!”

She shrugged.
“Yeah, well, he didn’t need it anymore.” Everyone laughed—except Jack and Carla.

“Okay, ladies.”
Greg stepped forward, finally putting an end to the bulls-eye discussion and a
hand on her shoulder. “It looks like Brielle is today’s alone-time challenge
winner.” He turned to Matthew and clamped his other hand on the groom’s
shoulder. “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 while the
other contestants sighed.

“And now,
Matthew, Jack, if you’ll join me.” The host motioned for the brothers to stand
next to him.

Only too happy
to hightail it out of the spotlight, Brielle quickly rejoined the other
contestants eagerly eyeing the brothers. She, on the other hand, eyed them wearily.
Now what?

“It’s time to
reveal who Jack has decided Matthew should take on the next one-on-one date,”
Greg announced, garnering cheers from the girls.

She added hers
while studying the women. Excitement and hope filled their expressions. What
motivated them? Love? Hate? Winning? She tried to decipher, but got nothing.
Damn. If the stalker was one of these women, she was good. Brielle needed to up
her game.

“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. Her pulse jumped.
Please don’t say my name.
After their explosive
kiss, surely he wouldn’t recommend her.

“Well, ladies,”
the handsome former Ranger paused to look at each of them. “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 glanced around, hand to her throat. “I never win anything!”

“Well, you did
this time.” Matthew grinned. “Looks like you and I will be going out on a date,
tomorrow night.”

Carla, of
course, frowned. “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.”

The sooner, the
better
.
Brielle turned and followed the others. At least it got Matthew away from the
immediate threat of those damn guns.

A
few 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 United States Olympic Boxing Team
before paddling a canoe to Japan in a category five typhoon where two sumo
wrestlers body-slammed her into a rock wall. Twice.

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. No.
They’d strolled ahead and now stood near the limo with their perfect bodies,
perfectly at ease, perfectly feeding her ever-growing misery.

“We’re coming.”
Danni grunted between steps. “Hold your horses.”

“Horses? Don’t
say horses ever again.” Mandy moaned, next to her. “Why didn’t someone tell me
horses were bad for your health?” 

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, when she grasped the opened door, then stopped. “Ah,
Houston, we have a problem.”

“What’s wrong?”
Bill hastened to the blonde, brow creased, glasses slipping down his nose.

Matthew and Jack
pushed past her 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 regained her
balance, then loosened her hold. “And I wouldn't have if said brother-of-the-groom
hadn't almost knocked me over.”

When she let go,
he twisted to face her, damn sexy lips twitching with a grin itching to come
out. Gone was his leery expression, replaced by a friendly, teasing gleam.
Heat, once again, flooded her body, easing some of the ache while causing
another.

“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, and
snapped Brielle from her Dodger stupor.

“You wouldn’t
find it so funny if you couldn’t get in the limo,” Mandy grumbled, trying to
lift her leg.

“How about if I
go in first?” Matthew suggested before ducking 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.

A slow and
painful eight minutes later, they were on their way back to the mansions for
what Brielle feared would be a torturous two hour ride. The driver seemed adept
at hitting every bump, every hole, every damn dip in the road.
Didn’t he
know they had injured back here?
Okay, not exactly injured, but certainly
horse damaged. 

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 passed Mandy and Danni a glass, too, before he
settled into the seat next to her. Heat from his body seeped into her side,
tingling her skin where they almost touched. It was a weird sort of massage her
sore muscles eagerly accepted.

“You’re lucky,
Brielle, at least you get to soak in Matthew’s hot tub,” Danni said before
sipping her drink.

She felt Jack
stiffen and glanced at him, but his gaze was neither friendly nor hard. Just
plain unreadable.

“You ladies have
a hot tub at your mansion, too.” Seated between the two women, Matthew patted
Danni’s and Mandy’s hands. 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.

Danni winced.
“Me, too.”

Carla sat on the
other side of Jack, and she caught the woman shaking her head while staring at
the other two contestants. Was it 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 safeguards on such short notice and the efficiency
with which his men worked, all reflected on him and his capabilities.

Their gazes
locked and her heart beats quickened. If only things were different. If only
he’d remember their time at The Limelight and they could talk openly about it. If
only he’d been read in on her undercover status. If only…she didn’t have to
start a sentence with
if only
.  She forced herself to look away.