Книга - Caught on Camera

Caught on Camera
Tawny Weber


Her sexy secrets have been exposed! Sierra is flying high on her company’s rising success. Her bonus? Another night with cowboy Reece – the best sex she’s ever had. But when blackmail photos of her after-hours activities show up, fiercely self-reliant Sierra finds herself needing a twenty-four-hour bodyguard. Reece is the right man for the job. He’s tall, dark and dangerous…and he makes every single nerve ending in her body sizzle.Soon Sierra begins to wonder if coming home to Reece each night could have its benefits. As long as he can keep her alive long enough to enjoy it, that is…







The look Sierra gave him almost sent him over the edge.

It was pure sexual challenge.



“Sorry, I’m a little edgy,” Sierra admitted. “But I’m only that way when I have some huge, irritating guy following me around all day.”



“So you remember me as huge, huh?” Reece asked wickedly, referring aloud for the first time to their little encounter at the resort. Up-against-the-wall, no-holds-barred sex that had kept him awake many nights since.



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 the butt, yes,” she said.



She was driving him nuts. All he cared about was tasting her, proving to himself that his memories were real.



“Didn’t your momma ever warn you about riling a horny bull, sweetheart?” he asked, pulling her close. Then, giving her no time for the smart comeback he knew she’d deliver, he covered her lips with his.





Caught on Camera


By




Tawny Weber











www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


TAWNY WEBER is usually found dreaming up stories in her California home, surrounded by dogs, cats and kids. When she’s not writing hot, spicy stories for Blaze®, she’s testing her latest margarita recipe, shopping for the perfect pair of boots or drooling over Johnny Depp pictures (when her husband isn’t looking, of course). When she’s not doing any of that, she spends her time scrapbooking and playing in the garden. She’d love to hear from readers, so drop by her home on the web, www.TawnyWeber.com.




Available in September 2010 from Mills & Boon


Blaze





BLAZE 2-IN-1

Branded

by Tori Carrington

&

Naked Attraction by Jule McBride

Her Last Line of Defence

by Marie Donovan



Caught on Camera

by Tawny Weber


To The Romance Bandits: Jeanne, Beth, FoAnna, Kate, Caren, Kim, Joan, Christie, Jo, Donna, Cindy, Trish, Cassandra, Nancy, Kristen, Susan, Vrai Anna, Christine & Suz!



You all rock!




Chapter One


IT WASN’T EVERY DAY a woman got to see her naked self coated in chocolate and being licked like an ice cream cone by a dozen people. Apparently hot fudge was the syrup of choice for an orgy.

Cringing, Sierra Donovan peered at the grainy black-and-white eight-by-ten photo starring her and her twelve new best friends. Struggling to be objective instead of giving in to the terror taking hold in her belly, she forced herself to consider whether the pile of naked bodies was supposed to be sexy.

She was no orgy expert, but wouldn’t it be a little hard to get off when you had no idea who was groping what? Cellophane crinkled loudly in the silence as she clenched another piece of candy in her fingers. Unable to deny herself the sugary comfort, she unwrapped the butterscotch sweet and popped it in her mouth as she squinted at the picture. Which body was supposed to be hers? Was she the one between the three guys or was she holding the dripping spoon in her hand?

“Sierra, have you got a second?”

She managed to stifle her scream by crunching down on the butterscotch candy. But she couldn’t stop her heart from pounding so hard it had to be stretching her bra strap. Coughing a little, Sierra tossed the picture into her desk drawer and slammed it shut. Giving her best friend a stiff smile she tried to pretend she wasn’t having a total freak-out. “Sure,” she said. “What do you need?”

Belle Forsham was Sierra’s partner in Eventfully Yours, the premier event planning company in Southern California. She was also one hell of a savvy lady. She took one look at Sierra’s cheesy smile, hands clasped schoolgirl-perfect on the desk, and the pile of candy wrappers overflowing the trash can. Then she raised a platinum brow and sauntered over to the desk, tucking the files she carried under one arm.

“Give,” she said, holding out her hand.

“Have I told you lately how great that rock looks?” Sierra said to stall answering and gestured to Belle’s sparkling new engagement ring.

“It is gorgeous, isn’t it?” Belle agreed with a sappy smile, taking a second to splay her fingers in order to catch the light with her diamond. If Sierra wasn’t a total cynic, she’d have been a smidge envious of her friend’s happiness.

But envy was pointless. Besides, finding long-term romantic happiness was as rare as being hit by lightning. In Belle’s case, she’d missed out the first time around, then freakishly had a second chance. Belle and the man she’d left at the altar six years ago were now basking in the glow of happy-ever-after.

It gave Sierra a warm, cuddly feeling. Which was bizarre, since she was definitely not a warm, cuddly type of gal. But for her best friend? She’d take up knitting sweaters for teddy bears to prove her happiness.

Belle sat in the cushy chair on the other side of Sierra’s cherrywood desk and tucked the files next to her. Kicking off her Jimmy Choos, she curled her feet under her and settled back like she was ready to chat.

The rock-hard tension in Sierra’s neck and shoulders eased just a little. Whew, the distraction with the ring had worked. Sure, they’d probably have to talk wedding plans now, but Sierra’s forte was planning fancy events so that wasn’t much of a hardship. She held back on the sigh of relief, though. No point tipping Belle off.

“I’ve changed my mind from pastels for the bridesmaids to jewel tones,” Belle mused, excitement clear on her doll-like face. “I think you’ll look great in sapphire or amethyst silk.” Even though the wedding was only three months away, she was still changing things around daily. She arched a brow. “Of course, you look good in anything. Or nothing. I take it you’re naked in this picture, too?”

Sierra blinked twice. Then she sighed. So much for distraction.

“Does it matter? So some idiot got their hands on a photo editing program. Obviously they need a lot of practice. Yesterday my head was on sideways, remember?”

The photos, all sexually explicit, all poorly composed with Sierra’s face pasted in, had started arriving two months ago. At first, when only one a week showed up, she’d hidden them from Belle since her partner was dealing with a big job and even bigger romance. But for the past two weeks they’d been coming daily. And the perv behind them was getting good enough with photo editing that the photos were starting to make Sierra queasy. Orgies were bad enough, but yesterday’s picture had involved farm animals.

Today he’d added commentary.

Soon everyone will know there’s nothing sweet about you, was digitally typed over the image.

She was terrified.

But she wasn’t about to admit it. Not even to Belle. Nope, Tough Girl 101. To maintain control, all vulnerability had to be hidden. Even if these stupid pictures were to blame for her new two-tube-a-week concealer habit to hide the dark circles brought on from sleep deprivation.

“Give,” Belle demanded.

With a grimace Sierra yanked open her drawer and tossed the eight-by-ten across the desk. She watched the glossy paper slide toward her friend, the image even more bizarre upside down.

“Oh my…” Belle’s lips moved as she silently counted. “Twelve at once? How do they keep from getting squished, do you think?”

“Good lower body strength,” Sierra deadpanned.

Not wanting to watch Belle analyze the creepy picture, Sierra flicked her mouse to take her laptop out of hibernation. Pretending the words weren’t blurred and shaky, she tried to focus on her Outlook schedule. They had three events scheduled this week. Two birthday celebrations and a store opening on Rodeo Drive. A signing meeting with a publisher determined to launch with a bang and a pile of billing to get out. Her favorite outlet store would get a delivery of basics on Wednesday, too. With this many events, she needed to keep up appearances, and for her that meant scouring sales. Busy, busy.

She blinked and let the jobs run through her head, the details calming her like no platitudes or assurances could. This she could control. And control was primary for Sierra. Ambitious, outspoken and self-confident, she knew she was damned good at what she did. Her gaze slipped over to Belle’s perusal of the latest pervy pic and she clenched her jaw.

These pictures weren’t something she could control, though. And they were fast spinning from a minor irritation into a major source of anxiety. If she wasn’t careful, she’d end up having panic attacks.

“Sierra, we need to take these to the police.”

Yep, there it was. Panic. Sierra’s vision blurred to black around the edges, and she felt her heart sprint into high gear. No. She wasn’t doing this. Two deep, calming breaths while she focused on her wiggling toes, lovingly encased in the prized pair of red suede Manolos she’d scrimped and saved for eight months to buy. That helped her push away the fear.

“No. This is just some dumbass perv playing games, Belle. I’m not giving him the satisfaction of running to the cops.”

“This isn’t a game,” Belle insisted. “There’s a motive behind it. Someone is going to a lot of trouble to terrorize you. Now they’re adding threats.”

“Commentary,” Sierra contradicted, as if it didn’t matter. “Look, it’s probably just one of our competitors trying to shake us up, you know? He’d have started on you except you have that hottie fiancé you’re busy keeping company with.”

They both knew that was a slim possibility. The pictures had started to arrive before Belle hooked up with Mitch. While she’d been working on his account, as a matter of fact.

Belle didn’t call her on it, though. She just gave Sierra a long, considering look. “How do you know the perv’s a he?”

Sierra sneered and poked her finger at the picture still in Belle’s hand. “Look at the size of those boobs. Not anything under a C cup there. Totally guy-fantasy crap.”

“I agree that it’s probably the competition,” Belle said. “We’re taking over Southern California and kicking ass.” Then she tilted her head and added, “But he is getting serious. These pictures are coming daily.”

Sierra shrugged, trying to blow off the concern. She couldn’t, though. Not all of it. After all, just knowing Belle cared enough to worry about her meant she owed it to her friend to do whatever it took to assuage those fears.

“Serious or not,” Sierra said, “I’m not letting some freak push me around. What am I supposed to tell the cops, anyway? That someone is sending me dirty pictures? And now he’s added captions?”

They’d probably say it was an ex-lover trying to get some kind of revenge. And since she was a healthy twenty-seven-year-old woman, she had a nice list of ex-lovers to choose from. None were stupid or tasteless enough to pull a stunt like this, though. After all, she prided herself in being extremely selective about who she let into her life. Or her bed.

“When did you get your hair cut?” Belle asked.

Sierra blinked again. Usually Belle was much better at the tactful subject changes. Telling herself she was glad to move on and not hurt that her best friend had given up so easily, Sierra brushed her fingers over the blunt edges of her sable hair. “Last week. Tuesday, I think.”

After years of flat ironing, special shampoos and blow-dries to pamper her long hair, she’d gone for a shoulder-length style that actually worked with her waves. She’d been afraid it would be too casual, but instead it softened her sharp features and added an air of approachability she’d never had before. If it snagged more clients, it worked for her.

“Tuesday?” Belle repeated flatly.

“Right, why? What’s the big deal?”

Belle turned the paper so it faced Sierra and tapped one French-tipped nail at her image. “Apparently you blew off dinner at my place to spend this last weekend in a kinky dogpile, then.”

Sierra’s stomach lurched and breath stuck in her throat. Well, shit. She’d been concentrating so hard on not being concerned, she’d totally overlooked the fact that her orgy debut featured her new hairstyle.

She sucked in her lower lip and tried to find an explanation. But her mind was blank.

“I’m calling the cops,” Belle stated adamantly. “This guy is straight up stalking you.”

Sierra rubbed a lock of dark hair with her fingers. Before, she’d tried to write the pictures off as irritating and a little obnoxious. She really had figured it was a competitor trying to shake her up. Or, worst-case scenario, a guy with a twisted way of leading up to hitting on her. But now? She didn’t know why she was more worried now, but she was.

She should warn Belle it wouldn’t matter, though. Cops never believed her. Especially when it came to anything sexual. It was as if they took one look at her and figured she was a liar. She’d never understood why, either. She didn’t dress provocatively, she didn’t flirt randomly, and as much as she liked sex, she could hardly be termed promiscuous.

But when she’d been sexually harassed by her uncle? God, how many times had she called the police as a teenager, asking for protection against the nasty man’s advances? His creepy comments, his filthy suggestions and offers. His attempts to corner her, to touch her. She’d dodged him as often as possible, and when dodging hadn’t been possible…

Well, suffice it to say, the one time he’d actually managed to shove his hand down her top, she’d shoved him down the stairs. The cops hadn’t thought much of that, either. Believing her aunt’s assertion that she was a mouthy brat, troubled by her mother’s recent death and acting out, they’d arrested her for assault. Sierra had been troubled, heartbroken to lose her beloved mother at thirteen. But she’d also been so terrified of being abandoned, she’d acted the perfect child when she’d gone to live with her aunt and uncle, despite their accusations to the contrary.

She snatched another candy from the dwindling dish and popped it into her mouth, letting the sweetness coat her tongue, distract her. None of that mattered anymore. All that mattered was that the police weren’t going to believe her.

Especially not if they checked her record and saw the accusations her relatives had used in her arrest. Luckily, before she’d died, Sierra’s mother had arranged and paid for Sierra to attend a prestigious boarding school starting in ninth grade. The only reason her aunt and uncle had let her escape at fourteen was that it wasn’t money out of their pocket, and the possibility that Sierra might blab to the country-club set about her uncle’s advances made her even less welcome in their home. Boarding school became her haven. And once she’d met Belle there, her home.

She knew calling the authorities about the photos was useless, but somehow the idea still made her feel as if she were doing something. So she didn’t say a word as Belle dialed.

“Okay, the guy I talked to is coming by the office,” Belle said as she hung up the phone. “You have all the pictures in a file, right?”

“All there in the drawer,” Sierra said, barely concealing her shudder as she unwrapped another piece of candy. If this kept up, she’d put on ten pounds.

Belle glanced at her watch, then grimaced. “I’m supposed to meet the CEO of Family Publications in a half hour to discuss photographers and push her to finally sign this next round of contracts. Let me make a few phone calls and I’ll rearrange the appointment.”

Sierra was shaking her head before Belle even finished talking. “No way,” she protested. “This picture geek isn’t going to upset, change or interfere with Eventfully Yours in any way.”

Belle’s green eyes rounded at the fierce tone. Her openmouthed shock made Sierra sigh.

But dammit, she had too much riding on this deal. She’d hooked an account big enough, wide-reaching enough that Eventfully Yours hit it big as a marketing planner as well as an event planning company. But more importantly, the income from this job would make her feel like she’d finally kicked in her part, financially. When they’d started the company five years ago, Belle had fronted the start-up money. She’d never blinked or hinted that she minded, but it still bothered Sierra. After all, Belle was the party girl, Sierra was the organized brain. They each brought a vital element to the business, complementing each other’s style and strength. But being able to organize a party for two thousand and arrange seating wasn’t enough to pull her weight. Sierra needed to pay her way, too.

All her life, she’d been the rich little poor girl. Wealthy family, very little money of her own. Fancy boarding school, hand-me-down uniforms. Even now, to keep up with her rich friends and their lifestyle she shopped with coupons, scoured outlet sales and vintage stores.

But now she and Belle were on the verge of hitting it big. Sierra’s share of the profits from this new account would pay off her half of the start-up money, provide a tidy little nest egg to invest. And it would buy her the new pair of Louboutins she’d been dreaming about.

But Sierra couldn’t tell Belle any of that. Belle would insist, as always, that the money didn’t mean anything and brush her off. So Sierra plastered on a calm mask and offered an apologetic smile. “Sorry. It’s just that we’re on such a great roll lately. Let’s just stick with our current plan. I’ll handle the cops, you handle the account, okay?”

“Okay,” Belle said slowly. She watched Sierra unwrap another candy, this one peppermint, and grimaced. “Look, I know this is upsetting you. I don’t think it’ll do too much damage if I call to say I’m going to be a little late.”

Maybe. Or maybe not. Family was a huge opportunity, one that would add publicity management to Eventfully Yours’ prospectus. Instead of planning parties, the business would start handling entire marketing campaigns. For instance, with Family, Sierra and Belle had created a series of events designed to impress the investors and advertisers the publisher was courting. This was their shot to move up, to take on more.

No pervert with a camera was going to ruin it for them.

Figuring she’d break down and cry like a wimp if Belle kept trying to be supportive, Sierra took a deep yoga belly breath and shook her head. “There’s no reason for you to stay. The cops will come, look at the pictures, ask a few questions. Besides, this is a key meeting. Even calling to say you’re going to be late could jeopardize the power balance.”

Most clients were thrilled to let Belle and Sierra call the shots when it came to their events. But some, like this magazine publisher, were heavily into control. Rather than letting her and Belle do their jobs, they were sucking up the gals’ time and wasting their own money by demanding approval of every little detail. This meeting to approve the event photographer was a perfect example.

“We want Family to use our people, and they’re on the fence already about our photographer because of his last show,” Sierra reminded her. The new magazine publisher, a multimedia venture, prided itself on promoting family values. “Tristan might be a little edgy, but he’s the best photographer we’ve worked with and I’d really like to see him on board for this project.”

“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?”

“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.

“Toby assured me my schedule is flexible,” Tristan said, sitting there like an oasis of calm as Belle and Sierra fluttered around setting up their presentation, tweaking a board here, a swatch of fabric there.

Toby was Tristan’s assistant and deserved a lot of credit for his success. Oh, the photographer was amazing. A great eye, incredible skill and vision had made him one of the top in California. But he tended to forget everything when he was immersed in his art. Toby kept him on track.

Much like Belle said Sierra kept her on track. Sierra knew better, of course. Sierra owed her success, and her sanity, to her best friend. Which meant she also owed her the truth.

“Ready to rock?” Belle asked quietly with a glance at her watch. One o’clock, straight up. Presentation time.

Sierra looked over and saw worry lurking in Belle’s seagreen eyes. The guilt and fear crept higher in Sierra’s belly. Confessions could wait. The truth would only make Belle upset.

An hour and forty minutes later, they wound up their meeting by shaking hands and, thank God, signing the contract. Corinne Perkins was a tiny white-haired woman who looked as if she would be more at home baking cookies for her grandkids than running a huge business. But she was the CEO for Family and a dynamo who demanded one hundred and twenty percent from herself and everyone else.

“Ladies,” she said after Tristan had flirted his way out the door, “I’m delighted with your choice. I’ll admit, I had to talk fast to get the board to agree to use a photographer with such, well, shall we say, eclectic tastes. But his work will give a modern and, I hope, urban feel to our magazine.”

“Your target demographic will love his work,” Belle assured the older woman. “Like the rest of our campaign, this will definitely bring in the type of advertisers and accounts you’re focusing on.”

Corinne smiled and stood up to hand Belle the signed contract. The stack of papers on her desk scattered and she tut-tutted as she gathered them back up. With a look of surprise, as if she hadn’t noticed it before, she slid a large envelope out of the untidy pile.

Sliding her own laptop into its case, Sierra caught sight of the plain brown envelope and purple mailing label. Her stomach took a dive.

What the hell? It couldn’t be.

Corinne slid an unmanicured nail under the flap. Sierra wanted to lunge across the desk and grab the envelope. But she couldn’t. She was frozen in her chair, her brain going a million miles a second, her body held in terrified stasis.

Corinne withdrew a small piece of paper out of the envelope. She gasped and threw it on the desk.

Sierra closed her eyes, too horrified to look.

“No,” Belle breathed. Eyes still closed, Sierra felt rather than saw her partner drop to the chair next to her.

The silence in the room was heavy.

“Care to explain this?” Corinne finally snapped.

Unable to continue hiding, Sierra forced herself to look.

Corinne was pointing a shaking finger at the piece of five-by-seven ugliness. Sierra winced. Obviously pervy boy had found a Photoshop for morons guide, because this picture looked real. Sierra, three guys and a whole slew of sex toys. Sierra was clueless as to what they even were. Apparently the men had no such problem, since they were using most of them on each other.

In danger of losing her lunch, she pressed her hand to her stomach. In bold white text across the black-and-white image were the words Sluts Are Bad For Business.

“I…” She couldn’t even speak. The words just stuck in her throat, pitiful and apologetic. A familiar feeling of being judged and found guilty washed over her.

“Corinne, I’m horrified you’ve been brought into this,” Belle said, talking fast, but with that girl-to-girl confidant tone that suggested she was sharing secrets. She went on to describe the evolution of the stalker pictures, pointing out the few clues that would assure their very uptight client that this was a digitally enhanced image. She ended with, “We’ve involved the police, and I assure you the matter is being dealt with.”

Through it all, Sierra just stared at the photo and tried to breathe. Everything they’d worked for. Everything she’d wanted since she’d escaped to boarding school—security, acceptance, independence—all seemed to be disintegrating under the weight of that picture.

“Ladies, I…” The CEO hesitated, then tapped her finger on their hard-won contract. “I believe you. I honestly do. But this isn’t the kind of thing that Family Publications can find itself connected to.”

Corinne sighed, then flipped the picture over. She grimaced, as if not liking what she was about to say.

“I hate to do it, but I might need to rethink things,” she said, flattening her hand over the contract. “While you girls have the best outline of events, programs and entertainment for our board and sponsors, this kind of thing can’t be tolerated. Family, as you know, would be horrified to find itself associated with anything of this nature.”

“There’s no way they could be,” Sierra said breathlessly. Geez, unless the creep got the board members’ faces and pasted them into the next orgy shot, how could this affect them? She was the one the guy was after. Her past was coming back to haunt her. She was sure of it. That realization froze the rest of her argument in her throat. Her past? Was it possible that her uncle had decided to stop his favorite game of blackmail and turn his dirty hand to photo stalking? No. There was no payoff here that he cared about. It was just the work of some sick pervert.

How pathetic that the idea was a reassurance.

“They don’t even have to know,” Belle interrupted. “The problem is being investigated and will be resolved any day now.”

Sierra had to force her lips together. Who knew Belle could lie to someone’s face like that?

“We’ve not only involved the police, but we’ve hired a private security firm. We’ll be happy to bring them to the events if it would reassure you.”

Another ten minutes of building on that lie and Belle had convinced the woman to leave their contract alone.

Sierra kept her face neutral until Corinne left the boardroom.

“I can’t believe you bullshitted her like that,” she hissed. “How long do you think it’ll take before she notices we don’t have security?”

“We do.” Belle stood and ripped her board from the wall. “Reece can handle the security.”

Ignoring that just the mention of his name turned her on, Sierra sneered. Reece, help her? She started to laugh, then stopped. Maybe that wasn’t a bad idea. Of course, he wouldn’t do it for her, but he would for Belle. He had the credentials. Mr. Security could pretend perfectly.

“Will he agree? Can you call him and ask?” This was doable, she told herself. If they handled it right, she wouldn’t even have to see the cowboy. Belle could ask him, maybe bring him around to meet Corinne and do the whole fake security-assurance thing. All Sierra had to do was smile and keep her mouth shut.

Impossible. She was ruining everything. Now Belle was having to lie for her. And worse, they would have to bring Reece into the whole humiliating mess.

“I should just step aside. I can do the behind-the-scenes work for a while.” Her offer held a hint of desperation. “Work from home, keep a low profile.”

“Don’t let this guy run you off,” Belle said. “Reece will help. That’s all we need. He’s already offered. He told Mitch and I that he’d step in at any time. You just have to ask him.” Sierra opened her mouth to protest, but Belle shook her head before she could say anything. “No. You have to do the asking. It’s only fair.”

“I think it’d come much better from you,” Sierra protested.

After all, the last time she’d talked to him, she’d patted his dick and walked away.

“Look,” Belle said as she shoved the boards into her portfolio case, “we need this account. We’ve invested too much in the job already. I don’t want you to step aside, so we need security. You need security. He’s already agreed. All you have to do is talk to him.”

Sierra sighed at the fond memory of a much less ballsy Belle. The one who’d easily backed off from confrontation and let people live—and screw up—their lives in peace.

Except this wasn’t just Sierra’s life being screwed up. Now it was her—their—business. The one Belle had brought her into. Belle saw them as equals, and it would be because of Sierra if they failed.

“I’ll talk to him,” she agreed reluctantly.

“Now.”

“I have—”

“No excuses. Go see him before he leaves town. He’s working out of Mitch’s downtown office.”

Sierra’s jaw ached as she struggled to hold back an ugly retort. Instead, she dug into her purse for a piece of peppermint candy and, with short, jerky movements, unwrapped it and shoved it into her mouth. Maybe the sugar would sweeten her mood. God knew, she’d need it if she was going to go asking favors of Reece Carter.



REECE HAD TO hand it to the twists of fate. Just when he’d written off any shot with Sierra, she walked through his door asking for a favor. Sure, she looked as if she’d rather be having a root canal and was as edgy as if she’d just killed someone. But she was here. Life was never boring, that was for sure.

“Look, I just need you to come by the client’s office and pretend to be Eventfully Yours’ security.” He noticed she wasn’t calling it her security. That would be admitting too much. “Just fake it so we don’t lose this job.”

Reece shook his head. “Sweetheart, I already offered to do the job. But the deal is, if I’m in, I’m all the way in.”

He let his words lie there between them, enjoying the image. Enjoying even more Sierra’s reaction to it. She turned pale, then blushed. As the rose faded from her cheeks, she just glared at him.

“If you want me, it’s for real. Not some fake bullshit to con your client. You’d need to listen to me, do what I say when it comes to protecting you from this creep.”

The look on her face, pure fury, told him that she didn’t want him at all. He read her body signals, the way her legs tensed, her fingers curling around the handle of her briefcase. She wanted to storm out, probably flipping him off on her way. But she stayed seated.

This must be one hell of an account on the line.

“You’re no better than the pervy jerk with the computer program,” she accused in a tone that barely disguised her underlying frustration. “It’s all about the sex for you guys. He’s trying to humiliate me with sex. You’re just out to get a piece of ass.”

It took every ounce of Reece’s training to keep his expression blank. Anger clawed at his gut, aching to be released in a slew of cutting words.

His army major’s number one dictum rang in his head. It’s nothing personal. He used the phrase to get himself under control.

“Want to let me see the pictures?” he said, shoving aside his fury with an effort. Ripping into her was pointless. She was already being terrorized. Besides, he’d get his way. They both knew it, so there was no point in hammering it home and making her feel any worse.

She stared at him in silence for ten seconds. Then twenty. At thirty, she seemed to crumble. Women’s tears didn’t scare him, but the stoic fear on Sierra’s dry-eyed face ripped at his gut. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and promise to keep her safe, to hide her away until he’d found and dealt with the asshole causing her such misery.

But then she lifted her chin and pulled a thick envelope from her case. It wasn’t until she stood and walked over to hand him the package that he realized she’d kicked off her shoes. She was tiny without them, barely reaching his shoulder. The image only added to his protective urges.

Until she opened her mouth.

“Did you want privacy to look at them?” she murmured with a shaky smirk as she held them out.

“There’s nothing I’d do in private that I wouldn’t rather do with you in the room, sweetheart,” he shot back as he opened the package. His temper lurked in the words, lingering irritation that she’d accuse him of being all about sex. Sure, he wanted her. But this was business. He was a big boy and knew the difference.

He didn’t shift from where he sat, one hip leaning on the desk, but he did come to attention as he flipped through the photos. With each one, his frown deepened. His impression from both Belle and Mitch was that this was a simple harassment situation. Some guy Sierra had blown off trying to get her attention, maybe.

Now he thought different. This was ugly. The escalating obsession, the tightening focus. The sexual threat.

The son of a bitch behind this was one sick mother. And he was obsessed with Sierra. Reece’s gut burned. He blinked twice to clear the red haze of fury from his gaze.

No point in scaring Sierra any more than she already was. But the reality was, the little brunette was in serious shit here.

“Sweetheart, I’m going to be your new best friend,” he told her with an easy smile as he tucked the pictures back in their protective brown covering and tossed them onto the desk behind him.

“I’m covered there, thanks so much,” she shot back, her usual sass returning along with the color in her cheeks. “How about you just lurk in the background and discourage perverts, hmm?”

Reece smirked, waiting.

Sierra gave a sigh and rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’m sorry I called you a pervy jerk out to get in my pants, okay? I realize you’re many steps above the creep that’s pulling this stunt.”

Enjoying himself, Reece just continued to stare.

Sierra’s lips quirked but she didn’t say anything. Just crossed her arms, which was a shame since they covered her breasts, and leaned back in the chair.

Power play? Reece’s smirk turned into a full-fledged grin. No wonder he couldn’t get Sierra out of his head. He loved nothing more than a challenge. At least, until he’d conquered it.

With that in mind, he let his gaze turn slumberous. All it took was the thought of her lips under his. He recalled their encounter in Mitch’s hall a few days back. The delicious taste of her, the feel of her breath as it warmed his skin. He mentally traced those lips with his gaze, watching their glossy fullness press together in irritation.

The phone at his hip rang, but Reece didn’t take his eyes from Sierra’s. Her gaze was molten now, a deep blue filled with sexual heat and awareness. Her lashes fluttered, as if she wanted to pull away but couldn’t bring herself to.

“Mr. Carter?”

He didn’t release Sierra’s gaze to look at the woman in the doorway, but did answer her. “Yeah?”

“Mr. Driscol on line one. He’d like to discuss expanding his offer.” Her voice hesitated as she apparently picked up on the tension in the room, then she cleared her throat and continued, “He said the timing is crucial and he needs an answer ASAP.”

Driscol was a client who liked Reece’s way of doing security. He liked it so much he wanted Reece to move RC Security out here to Southern California to be on a permanent retainer.

No doing, though. Reece had already told the guy twice. Nothing could entice him to move his base here to L.A. Crowds, crime and crazies. None of which appealed more than the wide open spaces of his home in Kentucky. His family was there, his grandma and his dad. Travel was all well and good, but he needed to know he could drop in for Sunday dinner anytime he wanted. After all, that sense of family was his touchstone, his reminder of everything that mattered to him.

Mitch had been begging him to relocate here, too. But if he wasn’t going to do it for a cousin he loved, he sure wasn’t about to move for a job he didn’t need.

“I’ll call him back.”

“But…”

“I’ll call him back,” Reece repeated.

“Yes, sir,” she murmured as she left, closing the door.

“Shall we discuss terms?” Reece asked, refocusing his attention on Sierra.

“Don’t you have a contract for that?” she asked, her tone deliberately breezy. She must have used the interruption to think. And her conclusion was to ignore the heated sexual tension sparking between them.

He’d have to see how quickly he could change that.

“I realize you’re exactly the kind of client I generally turn away,” he pointed out.

“You mean the kind that doesn’t worship you?”

Reece laughed. “A little worship wouldn’t hurt. But no, I mean the kind that doesn’t listen. If I’m going to protect you, you have to agree that I’m in charge. I can’t do my job unless you’re willing to give me your complete cooperation.”

“You never struck me as the have-to-be-on-top kind of guy, cowboy.”

Reece gave her a slow grin and waited. It didn’t take more than two seconds for her to realize that she knew firsthand that he was all about equal opportunities when it came to sexual positions.

“You’ll do exactly as I say?” was all he said, though.

Her jaw tensed in a sharp line and he watched her delicate fingers tighten into fists. She stared at him, then dropped her gaze to the package of pictures on the desk. Her brow furrowed and a tiny shudder shook her shoulders. Then, as if to shrug it off, she lifted one shoulder and tilted her head toward him.

“I’ll do exactly what you say,” she agreed. Reece let the pleasure of those words wash over him. “But…”

“Of course there’s a but.”

“But,” she continued, sliding her feet back into those killer heels and standing, “only as it applies to this picture perv, Family and the necessary protection required so Eventfully Yours doesn’t lose the account.”

Once she was in her high heels again, her game face firmly in place, all of the vulnerability that had scared Reece was gone. Sierra was back in control.

Just the way he liked her.

“Works for me,” he agreed, stepping forward and holding out his hand.

She shook her head. Apparently she had other caveats. “This account is crucial. My work, my focus right now has to be one hundred percent.”

He waited.

She frowned, and for the first time since he’d met her, she looked as if she was trying to find an inoffensive way to word her request.

Then she shrugged and rolled her eyes. “I can’t waste time deflecting your attempts at sexual games. I need to work. I don’t have time to worry about you hitting on me.”

He couldn’t help it. He laughed.

Sierra hissed.

“Sweetheart, I won’t have to hit. I promise.” He reached across her to put his hand on the door handle. “A week, maybe less, and you’ll be the one hitting.”

“You think pretty damned highly of yourself,” she said with a strained laugh.

“We’re about to do the one thing you’ve been avoiding since we first met six years ago.” He paused, watching her eyes turn smoky blue.

He could see exactly what was going through her pretty head and grinned down at her in appreciation. She was thinking sex, pure and simple. Or not so simple, in their case. He loved that about her. Not only was she a deeply sensual being, but she didn’t try to hide it. There was nothing coy or demure about Sierra Donovan. She was all woman and embraced her sexuality with both hands. Even if she didn’t want to share it with him.

That was okay. She hadn’t wanted to share before, either. That hadn’t stopped them from doing it against a wall. The sexual pull between them was more intense than anything he’d ever felt. He had complete faith it would overwhelm her again.

Eventually. He just had to push the right buttons.

“What’s that?” she finally asked in a husky tone.

“We’re going to spend a whole lot of time together, sweetheart. I promise, time is all I need to chip away at that milehigh wall of resistance you like to hide behind.”

He turned the handle and pulled the door open.

She stared for a second longer, then stepped toward the door, her breast brushing his forearm as she turned away and said, “You wouldn’t like what’s on the other side.”




Chapter Four


“SO TELL ME everything you know about Sierra Donovan.”

Reece straddled the chair in his cousin’s kitchen as he made the demand, a bottle of beer dangling between two fingers. Seeing as it was just him and Mitch this afternoon, he didn’t bother removing his Stetson.

“I thought you were protecting her, not investigating her,” Mitch teased.

“Same difference,” he defended, looking at the tips of his black boots instead of at his cousin’s all-too-knowing face as he lied. “I need to know everything I can about my client if I’m going to figure out who’s pulling this shit on her.”

“Like what kind of guy she dates? How long her relationships tend to be?” Mitch gave him a searching look before slapping a hunk of ham, along with a fat slice of cheddar, on the bread he was grilling at the stove. “Her favorite flower?”

“Stargazer lily,” Reece muttered into his bottle as he took a swig of the beer.

Mitch’s snort was loud and clear, even over the sizzling butter. Reece had never been able to keep a secret from his favorite cousin. And Mitch had never been able to keep from teasing him about it.

“Just admit it, cuz. You’ve got it bad for Sierra.”

Reece frowned, then shrugged. “It’s just lust. She’s hot. But like anything that incendiary, it’ll burn out if we spend time together.”

“Time in bed, you mean.”

Reece sneered at the innuendo that all he wanted from Sierra was sex. Damn, it was one thing to get that from her. She had no reason to trust him. Yet. And he’d noticed she had a miledeep cynicism that lent itself to thinking the worst of men. But his own cousin?

Mitch should realize there was more to Reece’s interest than just sex. Yeah, maybe it’d been lust at first sight when he’d seen Sierra six years ago. When he’d hit on her, then spent his entire leave trying to convince her that one date with him wouldn’t betray her friend, who’d just left his cousin at the altar. But lust alone would have burned out after six years apart. Not been kept alive all those nights when he’d bunked down in the desert.

It wouldn’t have been secretly nurtured during his illfated marriage.

Even obsessive lust would have been slaked a couple months ago when she’d kissed him and he’d lost all control. He’d like to claim it was shock that had sent his libido into overdrive and his finesse out the window. But that’d be a lie and he never lied. At least, not to himself.

Nope, it’d been idiot lust that had him taking her up against the wall like a horny teenager chasing his first glimpse of heaven.

Just sex? Hell, no. This was bigger than just wanting to get laid.

But he realized how it would sound if he tried to defend himself. Lovesick and pitiful. Wincing, he sucked down another swallow of beer. Nope. Innuendo was better.

“Not saying I don’t want to get her in my bed,” he admitted as Mitch slid two overflowing plates onto the small kitchen table and sat opposite him. “But I hardly need to resort to grade-school games to get her there. I’m asking for the case.”

Mitch rolled his eyes before he bit into his own sandwich. Then, after a swig of beer, he shrugged. “Sierra doesn’t really date. I mean, sure, she’ll do dinner or the theater with a guy here or there. But in the month Belle and I have been living together, I’ve never met a guy Sierra’s been out with.”

“Maybe she just keeps them to herself?”

“She doesn’t keep anything from Belle.”

“And Belle doesn’t keep anything from you?” Reece was the one smirking this time. Women, in his experience, weren’t known for their forthcoming honesty or willingness to share. Even if he did think Belle was the sweetest thing since melted chocolate, she was still female.

“Belle’s not Shawna,” Mitch said tonelessly.

Reece grimaced. Whether at the mention of his ex-wife or at the fact that he’d just pissed off his cousin, he wasn’t sure. Didn’t matter.

“Look, I’m not saying Belle hides things from you,” Reece said, biting into his sandwich. He chewed and swallowed before clarifying. “I’m just wondering if she’d waste your lovey-dovey couple time talking about her business partner’s love life.”

“Hey, she told me Sierra did you up against a wall,” Mitch said with a snicker as he polished off his lunch.

Nonplussed, Reece dropped his sandwich and stared. God, did women really share everything? He blamed the heat warming his cheeks on the beer and forced himself not to take the bait and ask for details. He would ask Sierra himself if she’d liked it, thank you. No way was he fishing for that info via his smirking cousin.

“Whoever is stalking her has a personal vendetta and the pictures are definitely a sexual message.”

Changing the subject before Mitch could rib him, Reece thought of the file in his briefcase. He’d copied all the photos and threatening messages. He forced himself to think unemotionally. “If you’re right and the only sex she’s been talking about is with me, then we need to look at a different motive,” he decided.





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