Game for Anything Read online

Sophie knew that Tracker was a frequent visitor at Mac and Lucas’s house in Georgetown, but he never visited when she was there.

  “I’ve seen the way you look at him, too,” Mac said. “After that kiss, you can’t tell me you’re not interested in him, or that you don’t lust after him, at least.”

  Sophie drew in a deep breath. “To tell you the truth, I’ve been toying with the idea of having an affair with him. But he’s so…intimidating. I think I have a plan—but then he looks at me and my brains cells start to leak. I’m going to need more than a game of twenty questions with penalties.”

  Mac beamed a smile at her as she rose and moved to her dresser. “I have just the thing. In fact, I put some items together as a little first-anniversary gift, bride to maid of honor. I was going to give this to you anyway, since you’ve started dating again. But I’m much more comfortable knowing that you’ll use them on Tracker. He has a weakness for games—especially games of chance.”

  “He does?” Sophie looked curiously at the small bag Mac was lifting off the dresser.

  Nodding, she sat back down on the bed and reached into the bag. “I was thinking of Tracker when I selected these items. Must have been ESP or something. There, I’ve got it.” She held out a coin to Sophie.

  “A quarter?”

  “A two-headed quarter. I had a few good times using it with Lucas—until he figured it out.”

  Sophie took the coin and examined it. Her mind was already racing with ideas as she glanced back at Mac. “You are a continual surprise to me.”

  Mac beamed a smile at her as she pulled out a giant-size pair of dice. “Lucas says the same thing.”

  Sophie stared at the dice. Instead of numbers, there were words printed on the sides. One die named actions: stroke, lick, kiss. The other named body parts: back, neck, breasts.

  “They’re a lot of fun,” Mac said.

  Sophie turned the stuffed dice over in her hands. “Any way you roll them, it looks like a win-win situation to me. Where did you get them?”

  “My friend in Paris told me about this great Web site.” She drew a final item out of the bag.

  “A deck of cards?” Sophie asked.

  “They look like playing cards,” Mac said as she fanned them open. “But they’re really coupons.”

  Sophie drew one. “‘This card entitles you to a quickie on demand. You name the time and place.’”

  “You give it to the person and it’s up to them to decide where and when to demand the quickie. I pick riskier places than Lucas does. It throws him off balance.”

  Sophie grinned. “You’re so good for him, Mac.”

  “You’ll be good for Tracker, too. He’s lonely.”

  She’d never thought of Tracker as having any vulnerabilities.

  “He probably needs a little encouragement. Lucas did. And some of these little toys get amazing results.”

  Sophie picked up the final item that Mac took out of the bag, a black velvet ribbon, and drew it through her fingers. “What kind of game do you play with this?”

  Mac tilted her head to one side. “Bondage comes to mind, but there’s a tag with an interesting suggestion.”

  Sophie glanced at the tag and saw that it even included a diagram with what she suspected was a highly inventive Kama Sutra position. The man was seated, the woman was on his lap—backward—and the ribbon was looped around his… Tilting the card sideways, Sophie narrowed her eyes. Yep, the ribbon was looped around exactly what she’d thought. “Are you sure this is anatomically possible?”

  Mac cleared her throat. “Not from personal experience. I think you have to have great powers of concentration to actually… My advice would be to improvise.”

  Sophie glanced around the bed at the sex toys that Mac had taken out of the gift bag. “I’m getting that message loud and clear.”

  “Tracker would be a safe person to try these out on.”

  Safe. Yes. In spite of his air of mystery and danger, she’d never felt safer than when Tracker had held her in his arms that very first day in Lucas’s office. Right after she’d punched her brother.

  “Go for it, Sophie.”

  “TRACKER, I’d like you to meet Carter Mitchell,” Lucas said as he closed the French doors leading to the patio, and strode into his office. “He’s one of the two men Sophie brought this evening.”

  Tracker recognized the name. Carter Mitchell was the manager of the art gallery next door to Sophie’s shop. Since Mitchell’s relationship with Sophie had been strictly business, Tracker had had one of his men run a routine check. Now Tracker caught something familiar in the way Mitchell moved as he rose from his chair. The face was familiar, too. Although it was leaner now and harder, there were still traces of the baby-faced twenty-two-year-old he and Lucas had worked with on their last mission six years ago.

  “Chance?” he said, narrowing his eyes as he took in the Italian designer suit, the slim gold bracelet he wore on one wrist and the diamond earring in his left ear. Chance had been the only name he’d known this man by when they’d worked together. They’d called him that because there wasn’t a chance that he wouldn’t take.

  “Yeah.” He stepped toward Tracker and extended his hand. “I figured I’d have to come clean the moment I walked through that door with Sophie. The name’s Carter Mitchell now.”

  Lucas moved to stand behind his desk. “Seems our old friend Chance is working undercover and he wants to make sure we don’t spoil things for him.”

  There was a steeliness in Lucas’s voice that had Tracker withdrawing his hand from Chance’s grasp.

  “He took me aside and asked me not to give away his cover,” Lucas said. Then he turned to Chance. “Now, I want an uncut, uncensored version of who you’re working for, and if my sister is involved.”

  “I work for a group of insurance companies that want to recover some stolen artifacts from an archeological find in Turkey, most importantly three rare coins. They were in England when they were stolen, and it’s caused quite an international stir. Various investigative agencies including Interpol and the feds have concluded that the stuff’s being brought into this country cleverly concealed in shipments to selected commercial locations. Sophie’s shop had been identified as warranting close surveillance.”

  “How long has she been a target of the investigation?” Lucas asked.

  “For about a month and a half. That’s when I became the new manager of the art gallery next to her shop. A month ago we got our first big break in the case. An operative on this side got close enough to the head guy to actually buy a piece we believe contained one of the coins. She purchased it at One of a Kind, and she was supposed to deliver it in person to her boss.”

  “Supposed to?” Tracker’s eyes narrowed.

  “Five minutes after she left the shop, she was the victim of a hit-and-run driver. Two men came out of nowhere. One pushed her into an oncoming car, the other took the package and then both ran.”

  “And you’ve waited a month to let me know my sister might be in mortal danger?”

  Chance switched his gaze to Lucas. “I swear I didn’t put Sophie together with you until I walked in here tonight. None of us went by our real names when we worked together. Hell, I didn’t even know you had a sister.”

  Everything Chance said was true enough. The kind of operations they’d worked on never appeared in the newspapers, and real names were never mentioned.

  “And now you’ve decided to date her?” Tracker asked, silently cursing himself. He’d focused his time and the time of his staff checking out the men Sophie went out with even casually. If she’d gone out with Chance sooner, he’d have had a photo of the man standing in front of him, and he’d have known over a month ago that something was up.

  Once again, Chance raised his hands, but this time he grinned. “Hey, I’m not her date tonight. I’m just her tag-along gay friend.”

  “You’re not gay,” Tracker said.

  Chance shrugged. “It’s part of my cover. Telling a wo
man you’re gay is the quickest way to lower barriers short of taking her to bed—and that’s a little complicated if she’s one of your prime suspects.”

  For a moment, Tracker didn’t say a word. He had to get a grip. Anger wasn’t going to help—nor was fear. “Sophie’s not involved in smuggling anything.”

  “I eliminated her as soon as I got to know her. She doesn’t have a dishonest bone in her body. And she loves that shop of hers too much to risk it by getting involved in something like this.” Chance’s eyes narrowed and grew colder. “But someone on this side is funneling the goods to the right person.”

  “Do you suspect Noah Danforth, her assistant?” Lucas asked.

  “It could be him,” Chance replied. “Or it could be any one of her regular customers. She makes them feel like family. All it would take was a word that they were looking for a particular piece, and she’d see that it was set aside. Noah would do the same.”

  “So the only thing you really know is that anyone who gets close to the head guy ends up dead.” Lucas turned to Tracker. “I want her out of that shop until the investigation is over.”

  “That won’t necessarily keep her safe,” Chance said quickly. “Whoever is behind this is very clever. His nickname is ‘Puppet Master’ because he stays in the background and just pulls the strings. We got close to him three months ago when he shipped the first of the coins. He used a small shop in Connecticut, and the owner was killed in a fire that destroyed his shop. If this guy gets even a hint that Sophie knows anything, she could still be in mortal danger. The only way to really keep her safe is to find out who’s behind this.”

  Tracker paced to the French doors. The hell of it was Chance was making sense. From the sounds of it, the bastard behind the smuggling ring didn’t leave any loose ends that could be traced back to him.

  “I’ll cancel my trip,” Lucas said.

  “No.” Tracker turned to face him. “If you do, Sophie will know something is wrong. And so will Mac.”

  “It should all be over in the next week,” Chance said. “Sophie has a shipment due in tomorrow, and the last of the three coins is supposed to be on it. Together, they’re worth more than they are apart. We’re pretty sure that the first coin went to the shop in Connecticut. The second one was picked up by the woman who was hit and killed after she left Sophie’s store. I’ve already offered to help Sophie unpack the delivery and arrange the pieces in the shop. Whoever is behind this will move quickly. All we have to do is trace the piece containing the coin to the buyer, and we’ll have our man.”

  Through the glass of the French doors, Tracker’s eyes went unerringly to one couple on the dance floor. Sophie was dancing with John Landry. Silently, he cursed himself. He’d missed Sophie’s growing friendship with the gallery owner, Carter Mitchell. What had he overlooked in her relationship with John Landry?

  “What about this Landry fellow?” Tracker asked. “Sophie met him on her last trip to England.”

  “He’s clean. I checked him out myself.”

  Tracker turned back to Lucas. “I’ll be there, too, when she unpacks the shipment.”

  “How? You can’t do anything to alert her to what’s going on. The worst thing that could happen is for her to start acting strangely with Danforth or her customers,” Chance warned.

  “I won’t alert her,” Tracker promised.

  “She’s not an easy woman to fool,” Lucas said.

  “I’ll figure something out,” Tracker said. “And she’ll never suspect a thing.” Then he turned back to Chance. “Right now I want you to fill me in on everything, including a list of your top suspects.”

  3

  SOPHIE HATED DUMPING anyone. She’d suffered enough rejection in her own life to know how much it hurt. But she ran the risk of hurting John Landry even more if she wasn’t honest with him. That’s what she’d been telling herself as she’d avoided him for the two hours since she’d left Mac’s bedroom. But even now, dancing with him, she was putting off the inevitable moment.

  “Sophie?”

  “Hmm?” It didn’t help one bit that she could feel Tracker’s gaze on the back of her neck. She hadn’t actually seen him since she and Mac had left the dance floor hours ago, but now the tension that she felt whenever he was near was back in full force. He was watching her dance with John Landry. The certainty of that gave her spirits a little lift, and she was very tempted to give him something to watch. But she couldn’t flirt with John Landry—or kiss him—and then dump him.

  Besides, all she could think of was kissing Tracker again. She had to know if lightning could strike twice. Her mind drifted back to the time she’d spent with Mac in the bedroom. Those toys. Just thinking about using them with Tracker sent a wave of heat rushing through Sophie.

  First she had to come up with a plan to get him within using distance. And she’d have to get him very close to use that black ribbon.

  “Sophie?”

  “Hmm?” She glanced up to find John Landry frowning down at her. Had he been talking to her?

  “Sophie, your body is here dancing with me, but your mind is a million miles away.”

  No, not a million. She figured it was about fifty yards to the French doors where Tracker was standing, watching her. And she wasn’t being fair to John.

  “I want you to come with me to my hotel,” he murmured. “Leave your car here and I’ll drive you back to get it tomorrow.”

  She drew in a deep breath. She’d insisted on bringing her own car because she’d known she wouldn’t be returning with John. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

  “I’ll follow you, then. I want time with you. Alone.”

  “John.” With a quick look around, she took his hand and led him off the dance floor toward the shelter of some trees, where they could have a little privacy. “I’m sorry, but I’m not going to spend time with you alone—the way you mean it. I…” For a moment she thought she saw a flash of anger in his eyes, but it was masked so quickly that she might have been mistaken.

  “I don’t mean to rush you,” he said.

  “It’s not that you’re rushing me,” she said. “I think you’ve been very patient, but I don’t think that I’ll change my mind with time. And I’m sorry if I led you on. You’re such a nice man, and I value you as a friend and a business colleague.” Sophie stopped then because she felt little prickles of awareness along her nerve endings. Tracker was near. He was listening to every word she said.

  “Well,” John said, and then cleared his throat. “I won’t tell you that I didn’t hope for more. But I value your friendship also, enough so that I won’t jeopardize it by pushing you further than you want to go. But I do want to see you again, strictly for business. You’ve aroused my curiosity about that shipment you’re receiving tomorrow.”

  Sophie smiled at him. “I’ll expect you at the shop bright and early. And I’ll put you to work unloading it.”

  “Good.” He took her hands and squeezed them. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  As he turned and walked away toward the front of the house, Sophie took one step after him, wanting to say something more.

  “I wouldn’t,” said a low voice, so close that she jumped. “It’s always best to make a clean break.”

  She turned to see Tracker separate himself from the shadow of the trees. “It’s rude to eavesdrop.”

  He moved closer then, and it was all she could do not to take a quick step back at the overwhelming effect of his proximity.

  “If you wanted your conversation to be private, you shouldn’t have had it in a garden. Besides, when you’re going to dump guys, it’s good to have someone close by. They think twice before they get violent.”

  “John Landry is a very nice man. He would never get violent.” She thought of the flash of anger she’d seen in his eyes.

  “Take it from me, he was pissed.” Tracker grinned at her. “You’re lucky he’s such a nice guy.”

  Sophie narrowed her eyes. She didn’t like the way he’d said “nice�
�� as if it meant wimp. “There’s nothing wrong with being nice.”

  “Right.” Tracker’s chuckle was deep and so infectious that for a moment she wanted nothing more than to join him. She stifled the impulse.

  “When was the last time being nice got you what you wanted in this world?” he asked.

  Well, that was true enough, she thought. And hadn’t she already decided that being nice wasn’t going to get her very far with him, either? He probably preferred naughty over nice twenty-four–seven. The idea sent a little thrill running through her.

  “Being nice didn’t get Landry what he wanted.”

  It occurred to her that this was the longest conversation she’d ever had with Tracker McBride. “And your suggestion to him would be?”

  His expression sobered and he met her eyes directly. “If he wants you, he should reach out and take you.”

  The words, combined with the look he gave her, were enough to tighten all the muscles deep inside of her.

  She lifted her chin. “And just what do you want?”

  For a moment he said nothing. Then he smiled slowly, and she felt her knees go weak. “Me? I’m just going to do my job and follow you home.”

  So they were back to that, were they? Temper stiffened her spine. “I don’t need an escort.”

  “Look, Princess, it’s late, both of your dates have driven home in their own cars, and Lucas doesn’t want you going home alone.” Tracker waited a beat and then continued. “You’ll just waste your energy if you try to lose me. Don’t expect to play that little game again and win.”

  Although it cost her, she said nothing. Five years in business had taught her that keeping her temper was crucial if she wanted to sell a customer on her way of thinking. And her way of thinking—until he’d annoyed her by reminding her that he was her guardian angel—was to get Tracker within touching distance. If he followed her to her apartment, all she had to do was get him inside.

  She tilted her head at him. “Relax, Tracker. I’m not going to run away again. That game bores me. I’d much rather continue the one we started on the dance floor.”