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“I think I can swing them around once they see his portfolio,” Belle stated. Her green eyes still showed worry, but being a good friend she took her cue from Sierra and focused on business. “But I’ll definitely need you there on Monday. This launch is so complicated, they want us both at the next PR meeting.”
Sierra nodded, automatically keying the information into her Outlook program.
“Tell you what,” Belle said, her words perky and cheerful. Sierra’s gaze flew to her friend, and she frowned. What was she up to? “Come by for dinner tonight and we’ll compare notes. You can tell me how the cops handled the photos and I’ll fill you in on the meeting.”
Dinner. It sounded innocent enough, but Belle looked too sweet. Always a bad sign. Since Sierra couldn’t think of any reason to refuse, though, she just nodded.
“I’ll be by at seven,” she agreed. Then as Belle was leaving the room, she added, “Just make sure you’re not serving chocolate.”
Who knew all it would take to lose her appetite for her favorite sweet was a pile of naked bodies.
Maybe the next shot would include donuts. If so, she’d drop these pesky five pounds in a flash.
THAT EVENING, Sierra smoothed her hand over the silk of her fabulous thrift-store skirt and took a deep, calming breath. Then she rapped on Belle’s door.
She’d practiced her breezy smile on the drive over, was sure she had the whole it’s-totally-not-a-big-deal verbiage down pat. The last thing she needed was Belle worrying. Or worse, calling the cops again.
Mitch Carter, hottie extraordinaire and Belle’s fiancé, let her in with a grin. He had intense brown eyes, a smokin’ body and the sweetest smile in the world when he looked at her best friend. If she didn’t already think of him as a brother, Sierra would be half in love with the guy. Since half was as far as she ever fell, she figured that said it all.
“Hey, Mitch,” she greeted as he welcomed her with a hug. The guy was baffling that way. Über-successful businessman, he was one of the top developers in the country, yet he wore jeans, boots, and gave hugs. As if he didn’t have anything to prove. Yup, definitely baffling.
“C’mon in,” he said, ushering her through Belle’s condo where they were living while their house was being built. Bright and airy with splashes of color, the space suited Belle perfectly. A vivid contrast to Sierra’s place with its heavy, dark intensity.
“Yum, homemade guacamole?” she asked as she stepped into the open kitchenette with its long breakfast bar and chrome stools. The red enamel appliances, black-and-white tiled floor and kitschy wall art made the eating area look like a fifties diner gone posh.
Sierra helped herself to a tortilla chip slathered with guacamole, bit it, then saluted her partner with the other half of her chip as she chewed.
“What’d the cops say?” Belle asked from the stove, where she was sautéing onions and bell peppers.
“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” Sierra returned with a droll look. “I appreciate the dinner invite—everything smells wonderful. And yes, this is a new skirt. D’ya like it?”
Belle rolled her eyes, but that didn’t stop her from dropping her gaze to the vivid red pencil skirt and making an approving noise. But as distractions went, Sierra should have tried shoe shopping, because one second later Belle was raising a brow and giving her that “Well?” look.
Sierra sighed and slipped onto a red vinyl-and-chrome lowbacked stool and scooped up more of the avocado dip. She didn’t need the seconds it took to eat the chip to gather her thoughts since she’d rehearsed plenty on the drive over, but she used the time anyway.
“The cops said there isn’t anything they can do,” she reported in a breezy tone as she sipped the margarita Mitch handed her when he walked by.
“They can investigate,” Belle insisted, stabbing the vegetables with her spatula.
“Not really. There’s no threat. These are just pictures, and pretty crappy ones at that. There is nothing to go on. As offensive as it might be, sending crappy pictures isn’t a crime.”
Sierra shoved another loaded chip into her mouth to keep the “I told you so” from spilling out next. A shiver of fear worked its way down her spine, but she told herself she hadn’t expected anything else. They knew the situation. The cops didn’t think it was a big deal.
“But the pictures are blatantly sexual,” Belle sputtered in protest.
“No, they are blatantly a joke. Irritating, tacky and rude, but not criminal.” At least the police had believed that someone was sending the pictures. They’d been polite, a little surprised at some of the poses, and in one case complimented her on her dexterity. But the bottom line was there was nothing they could do for her. Except offer a grocery list of cautions and warnings, most of which required someone to hold her hand. Just in case.
The idea of a babysitter made Sierra shudder. She totally refused to even consider just in case.
“They’re going to do something though, right? I mean, they’ll keep an eye on you just to make sure you’re, you know, safe and all?”
Who knew keeping up a fake smile could be so much work? Just discussing this made Sierra want to scream. But she managed to keep her look cheerful and easygoing. “They wrote up a report. I’ll keep them apprised of any more pictures and they’ll stay on top of things.”
Belle’s low growl was a dangerous thing. It wouldn’t take much to send her off to the phone to call the cop shop and throw a fit. For a second, Sierra missed the good old days when Belle had backed off from any sort of confrontation.
“When’s dinner?” she asked in a blatant subject change. She was done giving those stupid pictures her attention and energy. She’d followed the rules. She’d reported the mess. Now it was time to move on with life. Or more importantly, on to fajitas.
Belle’s look was a combination of irritation and something Sierra couldn’t quite place. But her friend gave a short jerk of her shoulder, poured the sautéed vegetables on a platter and said, “In a couple minutes. I’m just waiting for Mitch and, um, something.”
The something became apparent sixty seconds later when Mitch walked in with a platter of barbecued ribs. Sierra’s stomach constricted with sudden nerves, but she didn’t know why. Then the scent hit her over the wafting smell of dinner. Earthy, male and totally sexual. Shoulders tight, she turned to watch the man following Mitch.
Her hottest fantasy and her biggest nightmare. The one guy guaranteed to push all her buttons and send every thought of self-preservation straight out of her head.
Temptation in a cowboy hat.
Well, hell, Sierra sighed.
Hadn’t her day been stressful enough already?
Chapter Two
REECE CARTER.
Long, lean and sexy.
Heat flashed in Sierra’s belly as she faced the only guy to scare the hell out of her.
Not because he was the sexiest man on Earth and made her want to strip him naked, then lick her way up his body. That she could deal with.
What scared her was that she was a savvy, strong and opinionated woman. But when she saw Reece, she instantly wanted to become sweet, timid and compliant.
So she spent all her time around him being a hard-ass bitch, just to prove she could.
Pathetic.
Her breath quickened as she took in the delicious width of his shoulders encased in a black T-shirt. She wanted to trace her palm over the fabric where it curved lovingly over his big, muscled biceps. She wanted to press her cheek to the hard lines of his torso and run her fingers down the slim, denimcovered hips. The man had a body like a swimmer, with the tightest ass she’d ever seen grace denim.
He made her mouth water.
He had ever since she’d seen him for the first time six years ago at Belle and Mitch’s first wedding rehearsal dinner and fallen into instant lust. Then he’d opened his mouth and they’d fallen into instant verbal foreplay. Nobody could turn her on with a few words like Reece could. Unfortunately, nobody could make her lose control with just a few words like he could, either. Because it hadn’t taken more than a half-dozen exchanges for her to realize he was too much of a threat to her. To her independence, to her self-control. That hadn’t stopped her from getting hot and wild with him on the dance floor, though.
Pitiful that she’d been saved from the biggest mistake of her life when her friend dumped Mitch at the altar. She’d used loyalty as her reason to turn down all of Reece’s advances after that. Not that there’d been too many. A few weeks of phone calls, one or two in-person date requests. Then poof, he went away. Just like she’d wanted.
A shame, really. He was so delicious to look at. His white Stetson cast a shadow over wavy black hair, midnight-blue eyes and a chiseled jaw. All-masculine hotness.
Their gazes met. In his eyes she saw both desire and assessment. The unspoken message was that he wanted her like hell, but he didn’t like it.
Sierra’s shoulders stiffened at the judgment. But that didn’t stop her body from going into instant lust mode. For one second, she wished the picture of her face pasted on the woman using the sex swing could be real if Reece was the guy she’d be swinging with.
Then he opened his mouth and, as usual, ruined everything.
“I hear you’re doing a little modeling on the side,” he teased in his slow, easy drawl.
Telling herself it was fury and not embarrassment she was feeling, Sierra swung around on the stool to glare at Belle. Unrepentant, her friend just shrugged and topped off her half-full margarita. “I thought we could ask Reece what he thought. You know, get a little advice. Maybe some help.”
“I don’t need help,” Sierra claimed, gritting her teeth as she stretched her mouth into a fake smile.
“If you need the police, you need help,” Reece said easily.
“I didn’t need the police,” Sierra returned precisely. She hated that whenever she was around Reece, she felt the need to argue. And win. The need to win was almost overwhelming. But their verbal sparring was like an addictive foreplay. Every time they went up against each other, she got turned on, insanely hot for him. No. Not smart. She needed to stay away from the arguing.
“If you wanted to do a sex pictorial you should have given me a call,” Reece said, patting her shoulder to let her know he was teasing. Sierra’s first reaction was to pull back so she couldn’t feel the heat of his hand on her bare skin. But she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. Even if the look in his eyes told her he knew.
“There is the one shot with a goat,” she returned, determined to hold her own. “It did remind me of you.”
“Horny?”
Sierra gave a wicked smile. “Knock-kneed.”
Belle gasped, then slapped her hand over her mouth when Sierra glared at her. Mitch, ever the gentleman, mumbled something about checking the barbecue and left.
Reece, though, didn’t bother to hide his amusement. His laugh bounced off the walls, his white teeth flashing.
God, did nothing get to the guy? It didn’t seem to matter what she said or did, he just came back flirting.
She wanted him to act indifferent. She could handle that. She hated his flirting. It ignited a deep, desperate need inside her to flirt back. But, no. He had to do the one thing that was hardest for her to resist. He was the most frustratingly sexy, irritatingly tempting man she’d ever known.
He worried her even more than the creepy stalker pictures.
“Cops wrote up a report?” He said it as if it were a question, but they all knew it was a statement. Reece was Mr. Security. He’d spent ten years in the army, and while Sierra would rather actually do that goat than admit it, the idea of him in his sexy Green Beret uniform had fueled more than one bunny-bout, a term she’d coined in honor of her rabbit-eared vibrator. Now he ran his own security firm.
So he obviously knew his stuff. Which was fine, except Sierra didn’t want him mixing his stuff with hers. But—she shot a quick glance at Belle’s concerned expression as she scooped black beans into a bowl—she might not get a choice. At least not if she didn’t want to worry her best friend.
Caught by the bonds of friendship, Sierra just shrugged and gave Reece a breezy look. “Sure, the police wrote a report. But that was just for form, you know? Poor taste and tacky sex fetishes aren’t a crime, as I’m sure you know.”
His blue eyes sparkled in wicked delight at her dig. Sierra’s lips twitched, but she kept her expression smooth. No point letting him know she was tickled that he’d understood her humor.
“They asked you for a list of suspects?”
“Of course.” At his pointed look she rolled her eyes and shrugged. “I have no suspects. If I had a clue who was doing this, I’d go beat them over the head with their own computer.”
“Ex-boyfriends, old lovers, new lovers. Guys you’ve jilted, guys you’ve scorned, guys you’ve shot down?”
“Oh yeah, the list was pages long,” Sierra said with a wideeyed expression as she pursed her lips in a way she knew would get his attention. “I was with four different guys last week, but since the Galaxy soccer team is on the road, they figured it wasn’t them.”
Mitch, who’d just returned, gave a snort of laughter. Reece just shot her a long, considering look. There was something latently violent and predatory in his eyes that made her breath catch. She refused to squirm, though.
Sierra shrugged at Belle’s hiss. So what if it was all bullshit. She wasn’t going to discuss her sex life with Reece. Duh. She obviously wasn’t doing a soccer team. And she wasn’t about to admit she hadn’t had sex or anything approaching a relationship since she’d slipped up and given in to lust two months ago. Belle had been handling the grand opening of Mitch’s resort—their biggest job to date. It had quickly gone from a standard event to a sexfest of planning fun, with a little twist of sabotage. Nobody could say Eventfully Yours didn’t go all-out for their clients. In her attempt to distract Reece from discovering Belle sneaking around Mitch’s office, Sierra had lost control of her argument with him and they’d ended up doing the nasty.
Just another reason to stay away from him. She never triumphed in their little verbal skirmishes. Even when she won.
The memory of their against-the-wall encounter made her squirm, her silk panties growing uncomfortably warm. Needing to cool off, she grabbed her margarita and drained the deliciously icy concoction in one gulp.
Letting the sugar-laden tequila calm her, she met Reece’s eyes with a raised-brow look of her own.
No. He didn’t need any encouragement. After all, she knew firsthand how little stroking his…ego required to expand to mammoth proportions.
REECE’S FINGERS gripped the neck of his beer bottle so hard it should have shattered. Even though he knew she was giving him a bad time, the idea of any guy’s hands on Sierra’s body made him crazy. Any guy but himself, of course.
Although from the way the sexy little brunette was glaring daggers at him, he didn’t figure he’d be putting his hands on her anytime soon.
He’d never met a woman who challenged him like Sierra did. What baffled him was that she was totally not his type. Reece liked his ladies sweet and biddable. Before ending his disastrous eighteen-month marriage three years ago, he’d pictured himself settling down someday with a sexy little gal who wanted nothing more than to make his life easy, his bed hot and his future kids well-behaved. If that made him an old-fashioned jerk, he was fine with it. He wasn’t out to please the world.
He’d spent most of his service years in combat and saw no reason to bring it into his personal life. Or more specifically, his sex life. And yet, Sierra Donovan was the most combative, argumentative, independent woman he’d ever met. And he couldn’t get enough of her.
One too many hits to the head, he figured. And he’d get over it, just as soon as he got her out of his system. But he’d come to realize that to do that, he’d have to get her into his bed to work through all the wild fantasies he had.
She was proving a mite uncooperative on that front.
Of course, uncooperative seemed to be Sierra’s M.O.
“You gave the cops all these men’s names?” he asked, his words featherlight. No point in letting on that she’d got to him. She’d just poke harder if she knew.
“The cops have a full roster of my sexual encounters,” she returned with a roll of those pretty blue eyes. “They also have a list of all the people I’ve pissed off in the last few months.”
Her look made it crystal clear he was on both lists.
Reece grinned. Good, he liked being front and center in her mind.
“I’m guessing they didn’t plan to follow up,” he commented when she was silent.
“Well, they did praise me on my dexterity. And one of them complimented my ability to type with my mouth that full. But like me, they weren’t overly impressed with the list itself.”
She shoots. She scores.
Reece ground his teeth to hold back his growl of fury. Her offhand comment about the explicit nature of the pictures sparked an angry flame in his gut. He didn’t like anger; things always got ugly when he lost his temper. But the implications, the message those pictures were sending, infuriated him.
“The cops have the pictures?” he asked in a matter-of-fact tone.
“They made copies,” Sierra admitted with a shrug as she took her empty margarita glass to the sink. Belle handed her a glass of iced tea, the move so easy and natural, he could tell this was their norm.
“But you still have the originals?”
“Why?” she asked, lifting one of the overflowing platters of vegetables from the counter. “Were you looking for something to replace your Hustler collection?”
“Well, you have to admit, Hustler doesn’t feature farm animals.”
“And you’re such a country boy, you miss that?”
