Cara Summers – Risking It All: The Proposition / The Dare / The Favour / The P.I. / The Cop / The Defender (страница 50)

“And I’ll wait for them down in the Keys,” Hunter said.

“Oh, no. One of my men will wait down in the Keys. You’ll be right here where I know I can keep you safe.”

Hunter frowned, but it didn’t keep Tracker from continuing.

“I told you before. I don’t like to lose clients. Maybe this person wants to make you suffer by exposing you first. But maybe not. There was a bomb delivered to your suite. And it was discovered and disassembled. But who’s to say it wouldn’t have killed you if you’d been close enough to it when it went off? I’d rather err on the side of caution. Plus, we’ll be working at the problem from both ends. I’ll be trying to find out who from your past has a connection with one of the three top people in your organization, and we’ll see if the trap set down in the Keys nails our suspect down. That should mean faster results.”

Hunter turned the plan over in his mind. It made sense. “The only thing I don’t like is not being personally involved.”

“The farther away I keep you, the less chance there is of any of this leaking to the press,” Tracker pointed out. “And Lucas’s estate has a lot to keep you occupied. Tennis courts, horses, sauna, pool. To my way of thinking it beats the hell out of that old fishing cabin in the Keys for a little R & R.”

Hunter turned to face his friend. “I don’t want to intrude on you and your wife.”

“Not at all,” Lucas assured him. “Mac has an apartment in Georgetown and we’ll be driving back there tonight because she starts the second summer session at the college tomorrow.”

“There’s just one thing I ought to mention,” Hunter said, glancing from one man to the other. “I promised the Gibbs woman I would get back to her about the interview.”

“Why don’t I take care of that?” Tracker said. “When I talk to her, I’ll tell her that Jared Slade was called out of town suddenly and you’ll be in touch about the interview as soon as possible.”

“Good,” Hunter said. That was the best plan. Hadn’t he already decided that it wouldn’t be wise to see Rory Gibbs again?

“If we’re done with business, I think we ought to go out to the pool so that Hunter can meet Mac,” Lucas said.

“It’s not necessary,” Hunter said. “It’s probably better that I keep a low profile until you leave.”

“I insist,” Lucas said, exchanging a look with Tracker. “See, my wife has just published a book on male sexual fantasies—part of a research project she did.” He cleared his throat. “She’s presently on her cell phone sharing the best parts with my sister, Sophie—Tracker’s significant other. If we don’t interrupt them soon, Tracker and I are going to have a very strenuous night ahead of us.”

Tracker laughed then. “I’m not complaining.”

As he followed the two men out to the pool, Hunter found himself envying them. His mind once more slipped back to those few moments that he’d shared in the dressing room with Rory Gibbs.

It was on impulse that he’d escorted Irene Malinowitz back to the shop, and he hadn’t been able to stop himself from going into the dressing room again. He could still smell Rory. And she’d left the red bra and thong. He’d acted on impulse again when he’d bought them and had Irene send them to her at the magazine.

He wouldn’t see Rory Gibbs again, and there was no way he could give her that interview. It was too risky. Acting on impulse wasn’t something that he could afford to do again.

RORY SPOTTED NATALIE at the bar the moment she walked into the Blue Pepper. At five-thirty, the dinner crush hadn’t started yet, but there was a good crowd enjoying the cocktail hour. Tightening her grip on the bag she was carrying, Rory pushed and nudged her way to the upper level to join her sister. Natalie’s message on her voice mail had been cryptic. “Meet me at the Blue Pepper at five-thirty. I have some info on your mystery man.”

She was sure that Natalie was referring to Jared Slade, but Rory had begun to think of Slade’s bodyguard as her current mystery man. Even now when she thought about what had happened in that dressing room, she had to pinch herself to make sure the whole thing hadn’t been a dream. Of course, the red thong she was carrying in the pink Silken Fantasies bag was proof positive of that.

No man had ever made her feel so wanted, so needy, so sexy, so…everything. The Terminator, as she called him, was her fantasy man made flesh, right down to the dimple. But even in her fantasies, she hadn’t imagined that clever mouth and those incredible hands. And she didn’t even know his name. He hadn’t signed it to the message he’d sent with the red thong and bra.

I’ve never enjoyed a kiss so much. That’s what the message had said. The one sentence had been playing itself over and over in her mind since the pink bag bearing the logo of Silken Fantasies had been delivered an hour ago to her temporary desk at Celebs.

The message had set off a string of questions. Did it mean he wanted to see her again? Did it mean he was going to get the interview for her? When she’d stopped by Les Printemps, all she’d been able to discover was that Jared Slade had checked out.

But the question foremost in her mind was would she feel the same way if he kissed her again? In her fantasies, Rory had explored that particular scenario several times. But the more logical side of her mind understood that fantasies and reality were worlds apart. And the logical side of her mind suspected the lingerie was a “dumping gift.” Paul had bequeathed her his toaster when he’d moved out of her apartment. His note had said, No hard feelings.

How many such gifts could she accumulate over a lifetime?

As Rory crossed the floor to the bar, she rubbed her left temple where a little headache was beginning to throb. Well, a red thong was a much classier “dumping gift” than a used toaster. And she hadn’t given up yet on tracking down the Terminator.

It was only when she reached Natalie that she recognized the man on the stool next to her sister.

“Hi, Chance,” she said and tried not to giggle when he took her free hand and kissed it. “I didn’t know you were back from London.”

“Always a pleasure, Rory,” Chance said. “I can’t stay away from your sister for very long.”

Rory wrinkled her nose. “You make it tough on a plain Jane like me. She’s even prettier when you’re around.”

Surprise flashed into Chance’s eyes. “Where’d you get the idea that you were a plain Jane?”

“Her ex planted that in her mind,” Natalie said. “He was a class-A jerk.”

“Want me to beat him up for you?” Chance offered.

“He’s history,” Rory assured him.

“Sierra and I have it covered,” Natalie said. “We have a voodoo doll in his image, and we take turns sticking pins into it.”

He pretended to look alarmed. “Remind me not to cross you.” As Chance slipped off the stool, he turned to Rory and winked. “Let me know if you change your mind. Right now, I have orders to disappear for a few minutes so that I won’t intrude on the girl talk.”

Rory climbed onto the stool and set her bag on the bar. “You know, I like him more each time I see him. You really hit the jackpot, Nat.”

Nat’s eyes were glowing as she watched Chance walk away. “Yeah, I did.”

“What’ll it be, Rory?”

“Hi, George.” Rory shot the tall, bronze-skinned man a smile. “A glass of white wine would be nice.”

“You got it,” he said as he pulled a glass from an overhead rack. When he set it down in front of her, his gaze fell on the pink bag, and his brows lifted. “What’s in the Silken Fantasies bag? Inquiring minds want to know.”

Natalie stared at the bag. “I thought only the rich and the famous could afford to shop there.”

Rory could feel the heat rise in her cheeks. “I didn’t shop there. Not exactly. I just ran in to try some things on, and—it’s a gift. Not for someone else. For me.” She was stuttering. “Someone gave it to me. I’m deciding if I should give it back.”

George winked at her. “Never give back expensive lingerie. But you’ll have to model it before I can give you an informed opinion.”

“Not a chance,” Rory said.

“Who gave you something from Silken Fantasies?” Natalie asked when George had moved down to the far end of the bar. “Did you get that from Jared Slade?”

“No.” Then she sighed. “It’s a long story.”

Natalie’s brows shot up. “Can I at least have the Reader’s Digest version?”

Rory took a sip of her wine and then gave her sister a modified version of her morning’s adventure. Since Natalie was a natural-born worrier, she left out the part about actually making love to a complete stranger and played up the kiss part.

“You didn’t get your interview, but you kissed Jared Slade’s bodyguard. And now you have a five-hundred-dollar red thong and matching bra and a note that says I never enjoyed a kiss so much,” Natalie summarized.

“In a nutshell.”

Natalie’s eyes narrowed. “And I thought Harry’s letter had changed me. How was the kiss?”

Rory ran her finger down the condensation on her wineglass. “On a scale of one to ten, it was about a thirty.”

Natalie grinned at her. “Good.”

Rory shook her head. “It was the kind of kiss that makes you want it to happen again. And that’s not good. I’ll probably never see him again. I probably won’t get that interview, either. I gave up any leverage I had when I gave him the pictures. Not that I could tell which one of the two men was the real Jared Slade anyway.”