Читать книгу Hot Target - Lisa Renee Jones - Страница 12

IT WAS almost midnight, a good forty-five minutes after Katie left Luke in his den. She’d showered in the private bathroom attached to her bedroom and changed into shorts and a T-shirt, her stomach growling with the absence of that Chinese food.

Katie sat cross-legged on top of a massive sleigh bed that was draped in a fluffy, navy-blue comforter, talking with her best friend and outrageously outspoken business partner, Donna Montgomery.

“Sleeping with Luke Winter could be the best thing you ever did,” Donna said in the normal brazen fashion with which she approached life that somehow fit her fiery red hair and curves galore. “And since you’re play dating him, you might as well get the benefits.”

Leaning back against the array of throw pillows and pulling her knees to her chest, Katie rolled her eyes and embraced the levelheaded control she considered critical to her success, despite having shown none of it with Luke thus far. “That’s insane. You’re insane. No. Sleeping with Luke Winter would be insane.”

“Some people would say not sleeping with a man like that would be insane,” Donna insisted. “I’m one of those people, by the way.”

“Really?” Katie said in mock disbelief. “I would never have guessed that.”

“You know what they say,” she added. “If you fall off a bike, get back on and ride again. Ride another athlete, sweetheart. Then maybe you can finally move on from Joey.”

“Oh, good grief,” Katie said. “I do not need an athlete to ride. I moved past Joey Martin a long time ago. I never loved that man to start with.”

“Oh, I know that,” she said. “Joey’s power over you had nothing to do with Joey. It was about your knee being blown out and your dancing career with it. But it left you guarded. You have to move on, not from Joey, but from yourself.” She hesitated and then softened her voice. “It’s been years, Katie. Do what you need to do to put the past to rest, but put it to rest.”

“It’s resting,” she said. “I’ve simply been too busy to date. If the right guy comes around, I will. But Luke Winter isn’t that guy. He’s a client.” Which was why the molten attraction to him could go nowhere.

“You mean he’s a ballplayer,” Donna said.

“That’s irrelevant,” Katie reminded her.

“Actually it’s quite relevant,” Donna countered. “It’s a chance to be empowered. Have a hot fling and move on, and do so with a smile on your face. As Nike says—Just do it! Besides, you said he doesn’t take these threats seriously. Sometimes the woman in a man’s bed has the most influence on him.”

Or the least, Katie thought drily. Which might be exactly what Luke hoped for. Sex with Luke might not keep her from doing her job, but it would keep him from taking her seriously. And sex complicating her relationship with Luke might well send her packing, and her sister was too important to risk this job going wrong.

“Luke is the one paying our salaries right now,” Katie said. “Seriously, woman, where is your professionalism?”

“Oh, all right,” Donna reluctantly acknowledged. “I guess you have a point.”

“Finally,” Katie announced. “Which brings us to the reason I took this job in the first place. How is my sister?”

“Carrie is a royal pain in the backside, as always, but she’s safe. The girl couldn’t find good sense if it was chasing her. How you two are related, I’ll never understand. Are you sure your mom didn’t cheat on your dad, and she’s the product of an affair?”

“You ask me that all the time, so I’ll ignore the question and move on.”

“You always do, and I never get my answer. Funny that. Makes me wonder more.” Then, as if Donna read her mind, which she often did, she added, “I delivered the first payment to those damn, bloodsucking sharks. Sorry bastards.”

Katie laughed, embracing her friend’s boisterous, opinionated and impossible-to-ignore personality to lighten the dark situation. Thank God for her.

“What?” Donna asked innocently—there was nothing innocent about Donna.

“Just loving that loud mouth of yours right about now,” Katie admitted. “Get some sleep, woman.” Katie sighed, but then remembered something. “Oh, wait. What time—”

“Ten o’clock on American Flight 202, but not until Saturday. They had a few bumps wrapping up their present assignment.” And today was Wednesday. Damn. “They” referred to Noah and Josh, Katie’s two most trusted security experts.

“What kind of bumps?” She pressed two fingers to the bridge of her nose. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.” She knew that they knew what they were doing. If they needed more time, they needed more time. She simply wanted company guarding Luke so she wasn’t alone with him. “Just tell them to try and get here sooner. Thanks for always being on top of things, Donna,” Katie said appreciatively. “Oh, and FYI, I should have a full file on Luke, and the threats he’s received, early tomorrow. At least, that’s what Ron promised me at the airport.”

“I certainly would hope so,” Donna said. “He rushed you to take this job as it is. If it’s urgent so is the data for us to do our jobs.”

“Agreed,” Katie said. “But right now, we should both get some rest.”

“Night-night, Katie dear. Dream sweet. May I suggest a theme? How about a little true undercover action with a certain sexy baseball player? A pitcher maybe?”

Katie laughed despite herself. “The only way you could know he’s sexy is if you did an online search. And you did, didn’t you?”

Donna snorted. “I watch television.”

“You hate sports.”

“But not the players,” she said. “I’d love some baseball player in nice tight pants. Oh, yes. I keep up with the highlights. Luke’s a hottie. Admit it.”

“Professionalism, Donna,” Katie said, pretending ample indignation. “I’m hanging up.”

“Meaning you think he’s sexy.”

“Hanging up now, Donna.” And she did. Katie hit the end button on the phone and tossed it to the bed. The phone immediately rang again. She rolled her eyes and answered. “Donna. Good night already.” Silence.

“Donna?”

A strange feeling inched its way up her spine. This wasn’t Donna or anyone else she called a friend. The line was so silent, it was eerie. But someone was on the line. Someone who had her private phone number.

Apparently the hoodlums who were after her sister knew people. Damn. She took a deep, calming breath. “I told you the money was coming. You’ll get it.” Silence.

“You’ll get your money.”

The line went dead. Katie dialed Donna to warn her. By the time she hung up the phone again, she was ready to pace the floor. No way was she sleeping.

NEAR EIGHT the next morning, dressed in black jeans and a matching black ruffled blouse, Katie sat at Luke’s island kitchen bar. With only a few hours of sleep under her belt, Katie had, nevertheless, woken up more determined than ever to keep things between her and Luke all business and, in fact, to get down to business. She placed a steamy cup of coffee beside her; she needed the caffeine and had helped herself to the coffeepot.

Those gambling sharks had to get out of her sister’s life, and this job allowed Katie the financial means to make it happen. That advantage deserved grateful hard work, not the bitter resistance she’d come here with, which, if she were honest with herself, was immature and out of character.

She was here to keep the man safe, and she intended to do so. That she wanted him, that he clearly and totally rocked her body to a steamy sizzle, complicated things. But she wasn’t going to allow it to get in the way of protecting him. And truth be told, playing the girlfriend put her front and center with those closest to him—and those people had to be considered suspects.

So with all that logic recapped in her mind about a million times and with her laptop fired up in front of her, Katie searched media blitzes involving Luke that might offer leads on his stalker. She tabbed through a recent story on Luke regarding the thieving, low-life manager he’d endured before Ron took over. Luke had been through some real bad stuff lately, enough to make her sit up and take notice. No wonder he didn’t want Katie around, she thought, lifting her coffee cup to sip. A sudden prickling of heat tingled along her skin.

Katie’s gaze lifted and settled on Luke, who was standing in the entryway, looking good enough to eat for breakfast in faded jeans, a team T-shirt that hugged his oh-so-yummy broad chest, and a pair of scuffed cowboy boots. His light brown hair, thick and a bit mussed up, screamed for well-placed female fingers—not hers, she told herself. Okay. Maybe hers.

“You’re up early,” he said, crossing to the coffeepot and grabbing a cup from the shiny walnut cabinet.

“So are you,” she said, quickly minimizing the computer screen to hide the story she was reading so Luke wouldn’t see it.

“I’m an early riser,” he said from behind and to her right. “It’s a curse. No matter how late I go to sleep, I wake up by eight in the morning.”

She rotated around to bring him into view, resting her arm on the high back of the bar stool. “I wish I had that curse. It would make getting up easier.”

“You don’t want this curse. It leaves you sleep deprived more times than not.” He filled his cup. “I see you found the coffee.”

“Hope you don’t mind,” she said, but somehow she knew he didn’t. “I kind of made myself at home.”

He joined her at the corner of the bar, directly beside her, and reached for the creamer sitting next to her computer. “Not at all,” he commented, dumping the creamer in his cup. “Nice to wake up to it already made.” He snagged her spoon where it rested on a paper towel and stirred. Her spoon. He knew it was hers. It was an intimate gesture of sharing that people in relationships did and it sent a silly little flutter through Katie’s stomach.

“That’s what they make automatic-timer coffeepots for,” she said.

He sipped his coffee. “I never seem to remember to put the coffee in the night before.”

“I’m surprised Maria doesn’t set it up for you,” she commented.

He shrugged. “She only comes three times a week,” he said. “She keeps the dust from building up while I’m gone, and it’s nice to have a home-cooked meal when I’ve been on the road for months on end.”

“Where are your parents?” Katie asked. “Are you close to them?”

“They’re in Austin, Texas, where I played college ball. Still my biggest fans and the best people I have ever known in this lifetime despite being my parents.”

Katie smiled softly, took a sip of her coffee. It said a lot about a man when he was not only close to his parents, but spoke openly about how close he was to them. “Any siblings?”

He took a drink and then set his cup down. “None,” he said, resting his hands on the end of the island bar. “What about you? Parents? Siblings?”

She considered dodging the question, but Luke deserved to know who he was working with, especially after all she’d read about him and his past manager. “My parents died in a car crash a few years back,” she said. “And yes, one sibling. A younger sister by five years who was a senior in college when it happened. And in her own words, I’m ridiculously protective of her.”

He studied her a moment, and thankfully skipped the obligatory I’m so sorry remark that people seemed to feel the need to say and that Katie had grown to hate.

“Ron told me you’d traveled with a few high-profile musicians. Is that why you stopped? To be closer to her?”

“No,” she said. “I didn’t immediately come home. Nor did I see how shaken my sister was by the loss of our parents.” She’d been too busy hiding from the loss herself, trying to pretend they were at home, still alive. Until she’d found Joey with another woman and realized how much she needed a change.

Then she’d come home to discover her sister’s seemingly amazing husband was a low-life user who’d gambled away Carrie’s life insurance and then some.

Katie shook off the memory and continued, “My father was a retired police detective. We’d been talking about opening a private security firm together. I finally did it last year.”

“You were a dancer turned security staff on tour right?”

She nodded. “Yes. And I know. It’s a stretch unless you know about my father.” She hesitated. “Luke. I took this job at the very last minute, and I was unprepared for our first meeting. I hadn’t seen a file on your case. I still haven’t, and there is no excuse for that. The truth is, I took this case as a favor to Ron, and as he, much to my embarrassment, already indicated, for financial reasons. But I want you to know, I’m good at what I do, and I understand the unique position of being in the spotlight.” She inhaled and let it out, treading difficult water, uncertain how he’d respond. “This morning, I started reading through your press coverage, trying to find things that might point to your stalker. I didn’t know about your manager and your ex-girlfriend trying to embezzle money from you until I read the many stories written about it. Ron should have told me. I mean—he’s your manager, and he’s brought this female into your life in a very intimate role. There is an uncomfortable parallel there I didn’t know about. I can see why you didn’t want me here. It feels unprofessional on our part, both Ron’s and mine, not to address this up front. I’m prepared to make this work, but are you? I have a couple of excellent men I can recommend—”

“I want you, Katie,” he said, his voice low but firm, his gray eyes warm. The room seemed to shrink around them, the intimacy expanding in the same breath. “No one else.”

Something about the way he spoke had her body quivering. They weren’t talking about security and they both knew it. “You are aware that I’m not the least bit enamored by your star-ballplayer status, right? That I won’t sleep with you because you’re some famous pitcher.”

“I wouldn’t want you if you would,” he replied, his eyes holding hers, his expression unwaveringly intense.

Understanding swept through Katie as she put two and two together thanks to those articles she’d read. Luke was feeling used and abused because of his stardom. He was drawn to her for the very reasons she was nervous about him. Yet, he seemed to trust her more easily than she did him. “How do you know I’m not manipulating you?” she asked. “Maybe I’m pretending to hate athletes because that’s what you want to hear?”

He stepped to her side of the bar, his big body towering over hers, her body angled toward his, her knees all that separated the two of them. He smelled fresh, of soap and shaving cream. “Because I saw how much you hated me when you thought I was like Joey last night, how much you resented Ron for bringing you here.”

“And you still trust me to protect you?”

“Ron sent me your credentials, and after meeting you, I reread them. You come well qualified.”

Katie believed in being direct and honest. She liked that Luke was direct, as well. And she was beginning to think she liked him, too.

Feeling more than a little mesmerized by his gray eyes and nearness, she said, “All right, then. We should start working on our cover story. You know. The entire dating thing. How we met. Where we met. We should learn a few things about each other so we display convincing intimacy. Your season starts in less than a week, which thankfully is a home game. I’ll want to be in the bleachers, and getting close to those close to you, so I can look for trouble.”

“First things first,” he said. “How do you like your eggs?” His eyes twinkled, his voice taking on a sensual play on words as he added, “Because I don’t know about you, but something about all this being close stuff has me starving.”

Katie’s thighs clenched on that final word, and the implication that he was starving for more than eggs. He was starving for her. And damn it, she was starving for him. He moved to the refrigerator, and a breath escaped her lips.