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“There ya go,” he agreed easily, not bothering to hide his amusement. Taking his cue from her and Belle, who was carrying the bowl of black beans in to dinner, he grabbed the last dish and gestured to the ladies to precede him.
Belle’s gaze was shooting back and forth between him and Sierra as if she were following a tennis match. Mitch, though, had his serious CEO look on, which told Reece his cousin was worried. About the stalker pictures or the potential disaster if Sierra cut loose with that temper lurking in her eyes, Reece wasn’t sure.
But Sierra didn’t say anything. Instead she shot him an unreadable look as she headed toward the dining room.
Was she keeping their hot little encounter a secret from her best friend? Maybe. It’d been two months since they’d had wild closet sex at Mitch’s resort and she’d been trying to pretend he didn’t exist ever since.
“Let’s eat,” Belle suggested, obviously trying to break the tension as they all took their seats. “Maybe you can give us some security advice over dinner? Nothing major, just a few ideas on what we can do to deal with this.”
From her sigh and the look she shot him, he figured Sierra thought he was a bigger problem than any kinky pictures.
Reece took off his hat, shoved his hand through his hair and made a mental note to get it cut soon. He tossed the hat onto the oak banquette behind him, then took his seat. Belle passed the delicious-smelling platter of fajita fixings to him with a smile. The little blonde was a sweetheart. Perfect for Mitch. Reece hadn’t been sure when they’d hooked up again, but now he was. Too bad she’d done the altar dash six years ago, but apparently she and Mitch had both needed time to grow a little.
He sat opposite Sierra and considered the intense brunette. Had she ever been young? When they’d met for the first time, she’d been just as confident, just as cynical and just as sexy as she was now.
Well, he considered, letting his gaze travel over the smooth lines of her bare shoulders and sleek throat, maybe not quite as sexy then. But she definitely had the air of a woman who’d always had her shit together and never struggled with self-esteem issues. He tried to imagine Sierra as a kid or a teenager, but couldn’t. Even under an onslaught of dirty pictures, she just didn’t come off as vulnerable.
In other words, she was everything his ex-wife had wished to be but never quite pulled off. And Shawna, his classy and ambitious ex, was everything he’d thought he wanted, until he’d realized what he wanted was Sierra, and his ex was just a poor substitute. That flash of insight had come right about the time Shawna had maxed out his credit cards, sold his car and filed for divorce.
“So,” Sierra said as soon as everyone dished up their meal, “why exactly are you here, Reece?”
“The pleasure of your company isn’t reason enough?” He piled more spicy salsa on his meat-filled tortilla, hoping nobody would comment if he ignored the vegetables. Belle had that same look in her eye that his grandma got, the kind that said she didn’t tolerate slacking when it came to balancing the food groups.
“Belle knows how much I enjoy your company,” Sierra shot back over her veggie-filled plate, “yet she invited you to dinner anyway.”
Reece tipped his head in acknowledgment of the verbal dig. Usually Sierra was smoother. She must be a lot more upset over the picture deal than he’d thought.
And have a lot less respect for his skill than he’d realized. He frowned at the thought. He’d never set much store in other people’s opinions, so he couldn’t say why that idea bothered him so much. Yet it did.
“I’m guessing the police told you to start keeping the envelopes?” he asked in an even tone as he passed the fajita platter to Mitch. “That if you do open them, to wear gloves so you don’t contaminate the evidence. Maybe to take a few personal precautions, make a list of any more names that occur to you. Print up a list of your competitors, note which ones you’ve outbid for jobs recently. That kind of thing.”
Her blue eyes got harder with each sentence. He didn’t bother grinning. He just took a big bite of the fajita and waited.
Again, she surprised him. After a quick glance at Belle, Sierra just shrugged and took a vicious bite of her own fajita. Watching her assault the rolled-up tortilla added another image to his dossier of Sierra-inspired sex fantasies.
“Maybe I should step aside for a while,” she finally said. For the first time, he saw a hint of fear and worry lining her brow. “If I’m going to jeopardize business, I could work from home. Focus more behind the scenes than out front, you know?”
“Are you bailing on me?” Belle asked.
“No,” Sierra snapped.
Reece sat back in his chair and watched her pull herself together. It was fascinating. For a second, her eyes had flared with terror; then they went blank just before she took a breath and closed them. He figured he was the only one at the table who noted her hands were shaking. She didn’t even realize it, since he knew she’d have hidden them if she did. After a couple seconds and a quick exchange between Mitch and Belle, who ignored her fiancé’s admonishment that she try not to overreact, Sierra opened her eyes and shook her head.
“Look, sweetie,” she said, addressing Belle, “I’m not bailing. But I don’t want to cause problems, either. I just thought maybe if I stepped back, stayed in the background for a while, it might help. That’s all. I don’t want him ruining what we’ve built.”
“So you’re sure it’s a him?” Reece interrupted.
“Sierra figures the photo-happy creep is male because all the pictures feature big boobs,” Belle explained with an irritated sniff, shoving her hair off her face as if it were interfering with her ability to wage a winning argument.
Reece bit back a snort of laughter and met Mitch’s eyes. His cousin just shrugged and said, “Can’t say Belle’s not direct.”
“She must take tips from Sierra.”
The men exchanged amused looks. Belle’s lips quirked, but Sierra just rolled her eyes. “Oh please, like you didn’t already think it was a guy?”
“The likelihood the stalker is male is high,” Reece agreed, the laughter gone from his voice. “If it were a woman, the pictures would be different.”
Sierra’s derision fell away. A tiny line creased her brow and he could tell she didn’t want to ask, but couldn’t help herself. “How so?”
“In a man, you’ll see evidence of sexual fantasy, possibly of worship or even signs he wished he could be in the picture, too. In a woman, there would be some element of vindictiveness. Jealousy, catty chick stuff.” Agreement flashed in Sierra’s eyes, but she didn’t do more than tilt her head. He continued anyway. “A woman would have taken the photo editing a little further. You know, made you fat or ugly.”
He waited for the explosion, but Sierra only furrowed her brow and gave a little nod of agreement. Reece frowned.
He didn’t know which shocked him more—the fact that she’d agreed with something he said, or that she hadn’t been pissy about his suggestion she could look bad. In his experience, women didn’t like it pointed out that they could ever be less than beautiful. At least, his ex had hated it.
“Well, as fascinating as perverted pictures of me might be, fat or not, I’d much rather hear how the resort is doing. Mitch? What’s new in the lives of the decadent?” Sierra’s words were smooth and easy, her subject change gracious but resolute. Talk shifted to the luxurious resort where Belle and Mitch had reunited—a playground for the rich and famous that had launched a month and a half ago.
She was done with the stalker talk. Fine with Reece, he was more an action man anyway. As the topic turned to his cousin’s resort, he watched Sierra relax into an easy banter of social chitchat.
It wasn’t until they’d reached the end of the meal that he realized how skilled she was at the art of meaningless party chatter. She’d talked over and around him, but Sierra never talked directly to him. Oh, she was polite and gracious. The perfect dinner companion. But he could have been a cardboard cutout for all the real attention she gave him.
Reece frowned at his twice-emptied plate, not sure if he was more irritated at the realization that she’d basically ignored him or at how much it bothered him. A patient man, he stubbornly bided his time. After all, he’d been doing it for six years now, give or take a marriage and a brief, mind-blowing encounter. He was good at waiting. While Mitch and Belle were in the kitchen giggling like lovebirds and getting dessert, Sierra slipped out of the dining room. He followed.
“Running away?” he asked as he sneaked up behind her in the foyer.
In a blur of motion, Sierra yelped, spun around to face him and threw her purse with astonishing strength right at his face.
Lightning fast, Reece grabbed the leather missile and lowered it to his side. He raised a brow at the woman in front of him. His irritation at being attracted to her couldn’t dim his appreciation for what her panting breaths did to her luscious breasts.
Her black silk tank, so sedate and ladylike at dinner, grew tighter with every inhalation. He could just make out the lacy fabric of her bra beneath. And, his body realized with instant hardening appreciation, the outline of her nipples.
Mouth going dry at the sight, Reece craved to taste those straining peaks through the lace. Despite their hot and crazy encounter in the closet at Mitch’s resort, Reece had never actually seen Sierra naked. His brain stuttered as he imagined the glorious sight. He’d explored every delicious inch of her body and devoted many hours to dreaming about how good she’d felt.
But seeing her naked? Nope. And from the irritated look on her face, those stalker shots, computer-generated abominations that they were bound to be, were the closest he was going to get.
“Is this an invitation to go with you?” he asked, reining in his fantasies and handing her the black leather bag.
“I’m sorry I threw it,” she murmured. “You startled me. I guess I’m a little edgier than I thought.”
Reece glanced at the door. He remembered her earlier offer to hide. “Edgy enough to run off?”
“I wasn’t going anywhere,” she said quickly. “I was checking my messages.” Interesting that she’d instantly honed in on his suspicion. “Is this how you handle security for your clients? By sneaking up and hounding them?”
“Hounding? C’mon, sweetheart. You and I both know I might sneak under your skin from time to time—” his appreciative gaze trailed a caress over that skin, just like his fingers itched to do “—but I’ve never hounded you. You’re just a little jumpy.”
With good reason, he was about to say. But her sneer stopped him. God, if he wasn’t already crazy about her, that look alone would have sent him over the edge. Pure sexual challenge, the curl of her glistening red lips made him crave a taste of the soft flesh.
“I’m only edgy when some huge, irritating guy follows me around for no reason.”
“So you remember me as huge, huh?” he asked with a wicked grin, referencing aloud for the first time their little encounter at Mitch’s resort. Up-against-the-wall, no-holds-barred sex that had kept him awake many a night since.
Her luscious lower lip fell, just a little, as she stared, speechless. Heat, fast and intense, flashed in her blue eyes. The look, brief though it was, assured him that nothing about their closet encounter had slipped her mind. And, thank God, the swift glance she slid to his zipper guaranteed those moans of pleasure he’d tortured himself with nightly had been the real deal.
“A huge pain in my butt, yes,” she said, as if she wasn’t looking at him as though she’d like to take his zipper down with her teeth.
How the hell did she do that? More to the point, why the hell did she do it? The attraction between them was right there, so obvious she had to see it. But would she acknowledge it? No. Deal with it? Hell, no.
She was driving him nuts.
Screw caution.
Furious, although he couldn’t pinpoint exactly why, Reece strode forward. Two steps was all he needed to bring him close enough to feel her quickening breath against his chest. To see her pupils dilate. Whether her reaction was one of fury or the desire she denied, he didn’t care. Any response other than disdain would do at this point.
All he cared about was tasting her. Proving to himself that his memories were real.
Before she could snap out whatever snippy thing was burning on the tip of her tongue, he grabbed her shoulders. Pulling her close, he grinned down into her shocked face.
“Didn’t your momma ever warn you about riling a horny bull, sweetheart?”
Then he took her mouth. Under different circumstances, with a different woman, he’d have gone the gentlemanly route and coaxed the passion from her. With Sierra, he met power with power. He didn’t wait for an invitation. Instead he welcomed himself into the wet heat of her mouth with a swift thrust of his tongue.
She slapped her hands onto his chest as if to push him away. But one stroke, then two, of his tongue and her hands clenched his pecs instead, fingers curling and uncurling like a kneading cat.
Her purr of pleasure sent him from turned-on to rock-hard instantly. Tongues twined, lips meshed as he gave over to the heady flash of power. Their kiss was a smooth dance, intense and sexual.
His hands slid from her shoulders, down her arms, and he entwined his fingers in hers. Needing more, he pressed her forward until her back was to the wall, trapping her between the wainscoting and his body.
Their kiss, already hot, went into overdrive. She sucked his tongue into the silky depths of her mouth, the movement mimicking a blow job of epic proportions.
Reece groaned in desperate pleasure at the image. His dick, already rock-hard, strained painfully at the teasing reminder of what it wasn’t getting.
He took her hand, still linked with his, and slid it down his body. When he pressed it to his zipper, she gasped. Then her fingers clenched the rigid denim. She spread her fingers wide, moaning when they didn’t cover the length of him.
“Sierra?”
They both heard Belle call from the other room at the same time. Reece had to force himself to pull back. To resist the urge to grab her and drag her to the nearest room, where he could shut and lock the door. His breath coming fast, he met Sierra’s eyes.
Passion and something else blurred the blue depths. Then, with a flick of her long black lashes, it was gone. She gave his throbbing dick a soft pat, then withdrew her fingers. Her raised brow indicated she wanted loose.
Stepping away, Reece obliged.
“Sometimes huge is a good thing,” he said softly as she walked back toward the kitchen.
“And sometimes,” she said just as softly over her shoulder, “it just gets in the way.”
Chapter Three
SIERRA TUCKED a stray hair into her low ponytail and smoothed her palm over the stark white skirt of her poplin shirtdress. To keep the look from being too sweet, she’d paired the simple dress with red accessories and a killer pair of red leather heels. A fashionable yet unthreatening look that she hoped would put CEO Corinne Perkins and the rest of the uptight and upright Family powers-that-be at ease.
The elevator dinged her floor and she gripped her laptop case tighter as she joined the crowd pouring out. A glance at her watch assured her she was ten minutes early for the meeting. She’d intended to be twenty, but had been distracted by another photo delivery. This one had come with a note, too.
I’m Watching You.
Those three words had freaked her out. Even now, it was all she could do not to hide in the pseudo safety of the elevator.
Someone was serious about messing with her. And while she’d followed Belle’s mandate and furiously pored over their client list, noting every competitor or employee she’d ever pissed off, Sierra didn’t think they’d find the answer there.
Whoever was behind this was after her. Specifically. Not the company. It was too personal, too nasty to be anything else. And while she’d like to think she was woman enough to make a lasting impression on her past lovers, none of them were behind this. If they were, she reasoned, they’d know enough to make the pictures more realistic. They’d add in the mole on her hip, for instance.
As she forced herself out of the elevator, she fought back the biting grip of terror that had taken hold after the messages started arriving. The derogatory attacks on her worth, the slams on her sexuality. The ever-so-familiar insults that she hadn’t heard since she’d left her aunt and uncle’s home.
Anger and fear tangled together in her gut, but she ordered herself to shove them aside. Calling on all her control, she sucked in a deep breath and decided she could worry about it later. Her priority right now was nailing all the particulars of this account, and she’d be damned if she was going to let some pervert ruin it. Belle was counting on her. And more important, her own dreams were riding on it.
After that little pep talk and a few deep breaths, she greeted the HTT Publications receptionist and followed the conservative blonde into the boardroom. Belle and their favorite photographer were already there. Sierra was glad to see they were the only ones in the starkly modern room. She needed a few more minutes to shore up her composure.
“Sierra, great timing. You can tell Tristan what you think of his new look.” Belle gestured with wide eyes to the man sitting at the other end of the table. “He won’t believe me when I say he looks great.”
Catching Belle’s signal, Sierra made a show of checking out the photographer’s version of conservative. The entire team had agreed that this account was important enough to toe the line, which in Tristan’s case meant looking a little less over-the-top artist and a little…safer.
Taking in his transformation, Sierra wasn’t sure he really understood safe. No longer in a ponytail, his pitch-black hair was short and edgy, and his slumberous midnight eyes had that just-out-of-bed-with-a-half-dozen-women look in them. He’d even worn a suit, although the pegged black slacks and baggy pinstriped jacket over a T-shirt might be pushing that designation just a little.
“Great look,” she told him, meaning it. He was still gorgeous and artsy, but not so out-there that he’d freak out their conservative client. She hoped. “How many gals’ phone numbers did you get on the elevator ride up here?”
His mouth quirked into a grin and he shrugged. “Just the receptionist. She thinks she’d like to try and get into fashion modeling and wants my help with her portfolio.”
Sierra and Belle exchanged looks. The wild thing was, Tristan really thought the sweet little blonde was interested in his camerawork. For all his sexual energy and artistic eccentricities, the guy was a total innocent in many ways.
Baffling.
“Well, when the two of you are talking fashion,” she said, “be sure to keep in mind that this company prides itself on its conservative values. So no boinking on her desk.”
“Especially if the bosses are around,” Belle added with a smirk as she set up the planning and timeline boards.
“Even if they aren’t,” Sierra cautioned with a frown. The three of them had been friends since high school. They all knew how many sexual shenanigans Tristan had been caught in. “We’ve busted our butts to get this account and they have some very flimsy cancellation clauses in the contract. Even a hint of impropriety and they’ll yank this from us faster than you can zip your pants.”
“Hey,” Belle admonished quietly. Her look was a mixture of surprise and chastisement.
Sierra grimaced and jerked her shoulder. “Sorry. You know what I mean, though.”
Instead of looking offended or bothering to defend his penchant for landing in bed with four out of five women he met, Tristan just gave her one of his scrutinizing looks and asked, “You okay? You seem a little tense. Maybe you should get a massage when we’re done here. I know a gal—she’d fit you in.”
Sierra was horrified when tears filled her eyes. She blinked fast and furiously. Oh, no. There was no way she was giving in to the emotions ripping through her gut. Instead, she turned quickly to unpack her laptop so Belle wouldn’t notice before she regained control.
“I’m sorry for being snappy,” she said with a bright smile when she faced them again. “I’m just concerned. We’re heavily invested in this job already and we’re still without a long-term contract. The lack of commitment is starting to get to me.”
After shooting her a worried look, Belle took the hint and changed the subject, asking Tristan, “You’ve confirmed your schedule is workable for their proposed dates?”
Sierra grimaced. Just another reason this account—while essential if they wanted to grab the next rung on the ladder to success—was a pain in the ass. The company was so worried about image, it wouldn’t commit to any event until it had been approved by the entire board. Which meant dates and times couldn’t be etched in stone. Eventfully Yours was on its third event and the first one involving the media, and the client was still waffling.
