She Does Know Jack (18 page)

Brielle glanced
at the scowling woman who swallowed her comments when Greg continued.

“Matthew, you
will pick first.” Greg held the box high and the groom pulled out a blue
circle. “Blue. Looks like Mandy will be your partner.”

“Oh, I won
again. Yay!” She clapped, then practically knocked Carla out of the booth to
hurry to the smiling Matthew.

“Jack, it’s your
turn. Pick a circle.”

Greg held the
box, and Brielle held her breath as Jack stuck his hand inside.

P
lease…please…
Brielle
silently prayed, unsure whether begging not to be picked...or to be picked. Her
pulse hammered, drying her throat as she waited for Jack’s hand to come out of
the box.

“And Jack has
picked…red. Brielle, looks like you’ll be partners with Jack.” Greg smiled,
holding up the red disk. “Come on up, and I’ll explain the rules.”

No
, her mind
protested while her body screamed
yes, I win
!

She slipped from
the booth, noting Carla’s scowl and Danni’s slumped shoulders.

“Okay, this is
supposed to be an impromptu dance, but you’re allowed a few minutes to get used
to your song. You will have twenty minutes to practice before you take the
floor out there.” Greg motioned toward the door.

“What song?”
Matthew asked.

“Yours and
Mandy’s song is on the player in here, and Jack’s and Brielle’s is in the next
room,” the host replied, before turning his attention to the remaining
contestants. “If you other ladies would please follow me, I’ll escort you out
to a special booth in the club.”

Carla and Danni
rose to their feet, shoulders still slightly slumped as they accompanied the
host out of the room, leaving the four of them alone.

As soon as the
door closed, Jack rounded on his brother. “This is bullshit! Did you know about
this?”

“No, but I think
it sounds like fun.” Matthew grabbed his partner’s hand and led her to the
music system in the corner. “I suggest you use your time wisely, bro, because
Mandy and I intend to win.”

Mandy giggled.
“I wonder what song we got.” The blonde pushed the button and a well-known
Pitbull tune filled the room.

A slew of curses
shot from Jack’s lips, but the music drowned most of them out. He seized
Brielle’s hand, tugged her out of the room and into the next, slamming the door
shut behind them and a scrambling cameraman. “I can’t believe this!”

Neither could
she. Heck, she could barely catch her breath. The warm, comfortable feeling of
their entwined fingers and the rapid pace with which they moved was enough to
push all other thoughts away. Jack was holding her hand. Why did that feel so
right?

Unfortunately, he
released her to rake those long, strong fingers through his hair, causing the
short strands to stand up in spikes, making him look even sexier. Damn him.

“How the hell am
I supposed to keep an eye on my brother if we’re separated?”

Matthew. Right.
This wasn’t good. She really needed to get her head in the game. And off Jack.

He was right,
though. She understood his frustration. How could either of them keep Matthew
safe if they were both in here? The producers knew better. But none of that was
anything she could share. And Jack was looking at her as if he expected her to
reply. What could she say? Nothing. So she shrugged, instead.

“I guess it’s
another one of those things I’m supposed to go with. At least Rodriguez is with
him.” Jack scowled, pacing the dance floor, the cameraman scurrying to the far
corner, no doubt to keep out of the disgruntled Ranger’s way. “My stupid
brother has lost his mind.”

She didn’t know
how to respond to that, either. The investigator in her wanted to agree with
him and sneak back to watch Matthew, but she knew it would raise eyebrows. Especially
Jack’s. Too bad Matthew hadn’t picked her color.

“He’s just
trying to have fun.” She felt awkward as hell. The last time she’d spoken to
Jack, she had been half naked straddling his groin, and now they were alone, in
a private dance room—with a pole.

“Great. You’re
as bad as them.” He stopped pacing to brush past her and throw himself into a
booth. “Sorry, don’t mind me. Thanks to this damn show, I don’t even know who
the hell I am anymore.”

Hysterical
laughter bubbled up Brielle’s throat. Boy, could she relate. Luckily, she
swallowed it down before she made a complete fool of herself. Again. The
dejected slope of his shoulders and lost look on his face sobered her fast.
More than just Matthew’s dilemma ate at the man. Her insides twisted, and without
her mind’s consent, she stepped closer to the table.

“What’s
bothering you, Jack?”

He lifted his
head, and their gazes held for a long beat, long enough for a crazy fluttering
to start low in her belly. Uncertainty, longing and anger flashed through his
eyes before a cool façade slipped over his face.

“Nothing. Forget
it,” he said, waving her away. “Why don’t you turn on the music and see what
we’re supposed to dance to?”

She hesitated.
Something was bothering him. Was there another threat? No. She’d talked to
Uncle Franco this morning to inform him the extra cameras were in place in the
security room. He would’ve told her if there was a new threat. So, what could
it be? She eyed Jack for a moment, but when he stared back, gaze completely
devoid of emotion, she shrugged and walked over to the player and flipped the
switch.

An Enrique
Iglesias song from one of her routines at The Limelight filled the room.
“Great,” she said under her breath. “I’m toast.”

Pulse racing out
of control, she slowly lifted her gaze to Jack. Her heart rocked in her chest.
He sat there unmoving, regarding her with a steady intensity she knew to her
soul. Just like Dodger.

She glanced
away.
I am in so much trouble.

“Okay, dance
instructor, let’s see what you’ve got.” He leaned back, arms folded across his
yummy chest, blue eyes glinting, daring her to dance. “What’s wrong? Afraid I
might discover your secret?”

“W-what secret?”
Damn her wobbly voice.

“That you’re not
really a dancer,” he replied, then a wicked gleam entered his eyes. “Or…maybe
you’re a
special
kind of dancer.”

The potent man’s
lazy appraisal heated her blood, beyond boil.
Special
kind of dancer.
Yeah, she was special all right. And he had a special way with words. Hell,
they had her ping-ponging between hot and cold with a bought of shivers
standing at the ready.

“I know you’re
hiding something, Brielle.” He leaned forward and tapped the table with his
finger while he continued to hold her gaze. “I can taste it.”

Taste it? He’d
tasted
her
. That’s what she was hiding. And what was with these vibes he
was giving off lately? The man wasn’t stupid. He was definitely starting to put
two and two together. She chewed on her bottom lip, watching his gaze heat up
to that slow burn she remembered all too well.

What should she
do? Proving she could dance was easy, but he would definitely recognize her. On
the other hand, if she didn’t dance, then he might suspect her of making the
threats and miss out on nailing the real offender.

“Well? What’s
wrong?” he asked softly, slight curve to his lips. “Afraid I might find out?”

Her chin lifted.
“No.”

“Then dance for
me, Brielle.” His sexy invitation sent gooseflesh over her skin and
determination up her spine.

Fine. She smiled
down at him. He wanted to see her dance? She’d dance. Better for him to realize
she was Ariel than to consider her a suspect. Right? Heart hammering in her
throat, she held his gaze and began one of her old routines.

Do or die time.

Arms above her
head, she slowly swayed, her body expressing the song’s sensual feel.

Jack stiffened
and immediately sat up straight, smile gone as his mouth gaped open.

And that would
be his moment of absolute clarity
. She turned her back and shimmied to
the floor, then grabbed the pole and gradually stood.

“It
is
you,” he whispered.

Warm breath washed
over her shoulders, teasing her skin in an unexpected caress. Ah hell. When had
he stepped behind her?

“I knew I
recognized those legs. No way could there be two pair that…” his husky voice
trailed off, rooting her to the spot.

Don’t lean back.
Don’t lean back
.
She closed her eyes and swallowed, while her heart sambaed right off the floor
along with her sanity.

“Brielle.”

Damn. She
recognized that tone. He was waiting for her to turn around and look at him.
But, God, she was suddenly and unreasonably afraid. She didn’t want to look at
him, didn’t want to see judgment in his eyes. Or face a slew of questions.
Questions she couldn’t answer way back then, and still couldn’t answer now.
Cripes. Why did their
friendship
have to be so damn complicated?

“Brielle, look
at me,” he said in a quiet voice that surely tended to get people to do as he
asked.

She was no
exception.

Drawing in a
breath, she caved and slowly turned around to find his eyes dark with longing,
yet bright with certainty as his gaze ran down then up her body.

“You
are
Ariel.”

Brielle
swallowed. Things had just changed. Irreversibly.

“Yes,” she
replied, needing to free some of the deceit from her soul. “Or at least, I was
Ariel. I-I used the French student as a cover while I…” She paused, wanting to
keep her explanation as truthful as possible. It was tough without revealing
things. She sighed instead. “It’s not important. I’m sorry. I wanted to tell
you, Jack. But…”

And for once,
that
was
the whole-hearted truth. She hoped he believed her. There was
so damn
more
she wanted to say, but couldn’t. Her mind reeled at the
futility of her situation, but in the end, she knew the less she said the
better. Tears pricked the back of her eyes. Dammit. What was wrong with her?
She hardly ever cried.

“Hey, it’s all
right” He bent his knees a little to see her face better. “Your secret’s safe
with me. I understand the lengths someone would go to for their career. When I
was at The Limelight, I was undercover helping the police nab a couple of home
invaders that targeted two of my clients.”

No freakin’ way…

Her pulse jumped
at that revelation. Holy smokes. They’d both been working the same case from
different angles. An unrecognizable, strange feeling rolled through Brielle as
she realized they were in exactly the same situation right now. And dammit, she
still couldn’t say a damn thing.

“People do
strange things for family, too,” he added, jabbing his thumb toward the
cameraman in the corner. “Like agree to be on a television show.”

She smiled. “True.”
Another thing they had in common. As much as she’d like to have said more, a
hell of a lot more, she knew she couldn’t. He’d given her a way out, and she
wasn’t stupid; she took it.

“Don’t worry.”
He lifted a hand, and using one finger, lightly touched her cheek as he brushed
a piece of hair from her face. “I won’t tell Matthew about your old job. That’s
something the two of you should discuss.”

His tone was low,
but his words spoke volumes. Not only was Jack Anderson smart, funny and sexy
as hell, he was also a fair man. A quality she could not resist.

God, she hated
deceiving him.

She’d always
considered herself to be strong and tough. Hell, she had to be, what with
losing her parents at such a young age, and working in a predominantly male
field. But this man, this gorgeous, blue-eyed, hard-bodied, former Army Ranger
with a just heart, did her in. He got under her skin, past her armor and made
himself at home. Damn him.

“Thank you,” she
finally replied.

He nodded,
smoothing a finger along her cheekbone down to her jaw. “But…as far as what
happened in your dressing room…” His voice trailed off as his gaze dropped to
her mouth where it lingered, then swept back up again, blazing with heat.

A matching heat
shot through her body, pooling low in her belly and rushing north with
frightening speed. Brielle Chapman was now guilty of another rarity. She was
blushing. Cripes. What was it about this guy? First crying, now blushing? He
turned her inside out and upside down like nobody’s business.

She was in
trouble.

Big.

Freakin’.

Trouble.

She also knew
she should say something. Anything. He was waiting for her to reply, but her
body was remembering the great sex he’d just alluded to; the great, hot, monkey
sex her body wanted more of, now.
Please.

“Brielle.”

“Yeah?”

Oh Lordy, he
stepped closer, big hands cupping her face, breath a warm caress on her skin,
and her heart rocked so hard against her ribs she swore it now resided on the
outside.

“What about my
brother?” he asked, regarding her closely.

Brother? She
blinked through the haze his nearness created. Oh, Matthew…right. How in the
world could she answer without revealing what she wasn’t allowed to reveal? Her
mind clutched at straws that promptly disintegrated in her flailing grasp.
Crud. She had to wing it.