Game for Anything Page 6

  “What?” Sophie asked.

  “What indeed?” he asked as he stared down at the items scattered across the floor of the bedroom. Squatting down, he examined them more closely—a long black velvet ribbon, a large stuffed pair of dice and what looked to be a deck of cards. The writing on the dice had the light dawning. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that Sophie was also staring at the items. The color in her cheeks seemed even higher. “Sex toys?”

  “Way to go, Sherlock.”

  Another surprise. And he had the uncomfortable, fatalistic feeling that there were going to be a lot more. He noted that a faint flush had crept into her cheeks, but her chin had lifted and she was meeting his eyes squarely. Admiration shot through him along with an overpowering urge to tease her just a little more. Glancing down, he picked up the deck of cards and examined a few of them more closely. They were coupons, he discovered. “This card entitles the bearer to one quickie on demand.” He might be teasing her, but he could feel himself growing hard. Glancing up, he saw that Sophie was watching him do just that. “Intriguing. How exactly does it work?”

  “You give it to your partner and it entitles her to sex on demand. She gets to name the time and the place.”

  Damned if he wasn’t tempted to hand it to her. But he needed to think first. And they needed to talk. Coffee. Cold shower. Tucking the cards back into the box, he shifted his gaze to the other items. “You use these much?”

  She moistened her lips. “Not yet. Mac gave them to me last night—a sort of first anniversary present to her maid of honor. She wants me to be as happy as she is.”

  With Landry. Jealousy stabbed so quick and deep that for a minute, Tracker couldn’t breathe. Mac would have known that Sophie had been dating Landry, and obviously she’d wanted to encourage the match. The guy was perfect for Sophie. Hadn’t Tracker said as much to Lucas?

  But Sophie had sent the man away last night. Tracker grabbed on to the thought. She wouldn’t be using them on Landry. After shoving the cards back into the bag, he picked up the dice.

  “These are interesting.” He rolled them across the floor. When they hit the nightstand, they rolled back.

  “Stroke. Penis.”

  The questioning look he gave her had her saying, “You have to do whatever it says.”

  His lips curved. “Oh, I understood that. I’m a trained investigator. I was just wondering who gets to go first, the person rolling the dice or the person watching. You or me, Princess?”

  SOPHIE’S MOUTH WENT DRY and then began to water as the image of him stroking himself flooded into her mind. She’d never watched a man do that before, and suddenly she wanted to, almost as much as she wanted to touch him herself.

  The fact that his gaze had locked on hers, daring her to answer or make the first move, had the heat pooling deep in her center and a weakness spreading through her limbs. No. She immediately stiffened her spine. There was no way he was going to turn her to mush again. Not until they hammered a few things out. “About the affair.”

  “Want to get started right now?”

  She did. Almost as much as she wanted to breathe. “We have to talk first.”

  He sat down on the floor. “Okay, shoot.”

  He was enjoying himself, she decided. He’d turned her into a liquid pool of lust, and he was just sitting there, smiling at her, daring her…. And he hadn’t even agreed to the affair. The man was so cautious, so suspicious, he could just be stalling until he found a way to leave.

  Everyone she’d ever cared about had left her—her parents, and then even Lucas when he’d gone off to school and then the service. She wasn’t going to let Tracker get away.

  Reaching for the coin on her nightstand, she said, “There’s no point in hammering out the details until we decide the main issue. Are we having an affair or not? Why don’t we decide it with a toss of the coin?” She held it up between her thumb and forefinger. “Heads, we have a no-strings affair. Tails, you walk out of here and we don’t see each other again until Lucas and Mac’s next anniversary. Are you game?”

  TRACKER DIDN’T SAY anything for a minute. So much for his plan to get some coffee and a cold shower and think. Now his whole game plan was going to be determined on the flip of a coin. Fate. Maybe that was the best way to decide it. He nodded. “Toss it.”

  She did and held out the coin. “Heads. Now we can hammer out some details.”

  “Fine. One question. What happens when the affair ends?” Because it would. He had no doubt about that. He and Sophie were too different, and what was burning between them now would surely die down. He would just have to make certain it didn’t fade until she was safe and the Puppet Master was behind bars.

  “We both walk away—no regrets, no recriminations. And for the length of the affair, we’ll be equal partners.”

  His brows shot up. “Equal partners? Now that has possibilities. As an equal partner, I want to add a couple of things to our deal.”

  “And they would be?”

  “Exclusivity. Neither one of us will see anyone else while we’re involved with each other.”

  “Agreed.”

  “And let’s say we make it a no-holds-barred affair. Are you game, Princess?”

  Sophie felt her insides clutch so violently that for a second she thought she was going to have another orgasm. Struggling for control, she ruthlessly cleared her mind and tried to weigh logically what he was offering. Impossible. How could she do that when all she could think of was the challenge of what he was proposing?

  “Deal or not, Sophie?”

  He was turning her to mush again, and he knew it. Lifting her chin, she said, “No holds barred. Does that mean you’d be willing to use some of those sex toys?”

  He grinned at her. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  Leaning down, she picked up the black velvet ribbon. “How about this? The instructions are on the tag.”

  He read them and then met her eyes. “I think we could work that in.”

  No, she was not going to blush. Grace Kelly never had, and Sophie was Mac’s role model. Plus, she’d just negotiated a no-strings, no-holds-barred affair, after all. “Then we have a deal.”

  They extended their hands at the same time. Their palms met in a firm handshake. She was thinking, and she was almost sure that he was, too, of what he’d rolled on the dice—then the phone on her night stand rang.

  Not releasing her hand, Tracker reached for it with his free one and held it to her ear.

  “Sophie?”

  She recognized the voice instantly. Noah Danforth was a graduate student at Georgetown who had worked part-time for her for the past year. She hoped he wasn’t calling in sick, because it was going to be a very busy day. “Noah, where are you?” She glanced at the digital clock next to the phone and her eyes widened. She always opened the doors of the shop at ten, and it was fifteen after.

  “I’m downstairs in the shop.”

  “I’m late! I…overslept. I’ll be right down.”

  “Are you all right? I was worried there for a minute when I arrived and you hadn’t opened up already.”

  “I’m fine. Any customers yet?”

  “No, but I can see Mrs. Langford-Hughes through the window. She has Chris Chandler and another man with her. They know you’re getting that shipment today.”

  “Keep them busy until I get there.”

  Tracker released her hand at the same moment he replaced the phone.

  “I have to go down there.”

  He smiled at her. “I know.” He glanced down at the dice. “I think I can remember where we left off, and we can get back to it tonight.” His eyes held amusement and something much more dangerous when they met hers. “You can think about it while you’re showering and dressing and putting in a long day in the shop. Anticipation has a heightening effect on pleasure.”

  The grin he gave her was wicked, promising.

  “You can think about it, too.” On impulse, she leaned forward and brushed her mouth agai
nst his. She was finding it difficult to draw back when a sudden thought had her frowning. “I can’t tonight. I have plans.”

  “A date?” he said, lifting one brow.

  “No. It’s business. I have to go to a party at Millie Langford-Hughes’s house right after work. She’s a very important client.”

  “No problem.”

  Sophie studied him for a minute and found it impossible to read his expression. He’d agreed to her deal. She should be able to relax now, but she was still worried that he would walk away from her again. That feeling was an old and familiar problem. She’d bared her soul and paid an outrageous sum to a therapist only to “discover” what she already knew too well. She suffered from abandonment syndrome.

  And she was still holding Tracker’s hand.

  “Would you like to come along?”

  She thought she saw a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

  “Your wish is my command, Princess. And I can give you an extra hand in the shop today if it will help.”

  “The shop. I have to get down there.” Brushing her hair out of her eyes, she slipped from the bed and hurried to the bathroom. At the door, she turned back. “Thanks. Help yourself to coffee, anything.”

  With a wave, she vanished into the bathroom.

  FOR FIVE SECONDS, Tracker debated following her. The Princess had taken control of his head and of another much less controllable part of his body. He was amazed that he’d been able to stop himself from indulging in round two with her—especially when she’d asked if he could manage the little maneuver with the ribbon. His mind filled with the image of having her that way.

  In truth, he wanted to have her any way he could, whenever she gave him the chance. His hormones were on a rampage, and that was dangerous. He was going to have to work very hard to keep both his libido and the affair under tight control if he was going to do his job.

  His job. Gathering up his clothes, Tracker pulled them on and headed for the kitchen. He didn’t believe in lying to himself. Part of the reason he’d agreed to the affair was that he hadn’t been able to stop himself. It wouldn’t have mattered a bit which way the coin toss had gone.

  After tipping coffee into two mugs, he lifted one and took a long swallow. The hot liquid scalded his throat. He could only hope that he hadn’t made the biggest mistake of his life. When the truth was out someone was going to get hurt. Sophie, for sure. Just how did he expect her to react when she learned that their affair was an excuse he was using to be her bodyguard for the next few days?

  “Ready?”

  Tracker glanced up to see her stepping out of the bedroom. He’d seen her in fancier outfits, so there was no reason on earth why the sight of her in red slacks and a brightly flowered silk blouse should hit him so hard. Her hair was twisted up on her head with only a few wisps falling down. And on her feet she was wearing a sexy pair of strappy black sandals. Just looking at her made his mouth water.

  “Coffee. You’re a lifesaver.” Rushing toward the counter, she lifted the mug and took a quick sip, then another before she set the coffee back down. “Not nearly enough, but it will have to do.”

  Turning, she dashed toward the door. Tracker strode after her, but she was out of sight by the time he reached the hallway. Since he’d installed the security system in Sophie’s shop, he was well aware of the layout, but he refamiliarized himself with the place as he followed in her wake. The door at the foot of the stairs led to a small courtyard. Beyond the rose-covered lattices lay an alley that delivery trucks used.

  The other door led to the back room of Sophie’s shop. By the time he made his way past the packing tables and pushed through the swinging doors, Sophie was already in conference with a young man standing near the cash register. Noah Danforth was a grad student at Georgetown who’d been working part-time for Sophie since she’d opened the shop. He was tall and fair-haired, with narrow, dark-framed glasses and clothes that testified to the fact that he read men’s fashion magazines.

  Beyond them, three customers studied a blue bowl as if it held the secrets to the universe. The woman was tall, wearing a bright blue suit with a wide-brimmed hat to match. The younger man was short, with a wiry build and long hair he wore pulled back in a ponytail. A diamond flashed on his pinky finger. The older man had a more portly build and a jovial face with a full beard that had Tracker thinking of both Santa Claus and Ernest Hemingway.

  While Sophie moved toward them and was swept up in a round of air-kisses and hugs, Tracker walked over to the man at the cash register and extended his hand. “I’m Tracker McBride, a friend of Sophie’s brother. She mentioned that there was a delivery today, and I volunteered to lend a helping hand.”

  “Noah Danforth,” the young man said as he shook Tracker’s hand. “She could use the help. One of these days she’s going to hurt herself trying to move some of the heavy stuff out of the back room.”

  “Important customers?” Tracker asked conversationally. He thought he recognized the two men and the woman from Chance’s descriptions, but it wouldn’t hurt to have his hunch verified.

  Noah pitched his voice low. “The woman is Millie Langford-Hughes and the man is Chris Chandler. Currently, he’s the designer everyone on Capitol Hill wants to hire, and this is one of his favorite shops.”

  What Noah didn’t add but Chance had told Tracker was that Millie Langford-Hughes was currently the most talked about hostess in the nation’s capital, and that she’d pretty much made the reputation of Chris Chandler. Chance had also pointed out that Chandler was in an excellent position to serve as a buyer for the Puppet Master.

  “And I believe,” Noah continued, “that the bearded man is Sir Winston Hughes, Millie’s husband of three months. They’ve been honeymooning abroad, and this is his first visit to the shop.”

  Noah’s cultured tones, delivered in a murmur, gave Tracker the impression that he was being let in on state secrets. Sir Winston and his new bride were also on Chance’s list because Millie was such a frequent visitor to Sophie’s shop, Tracker recalled.

  In their few minutes of conversation, Tracker decided that Noah Danforth’s quiet, controlled style was the perfect foil to Sophie’s more outgoing charm.

  A bell rang at the front of the shop, and a man in his fifties, with gray hair, a gray suit and tie, entered.

  “Excuse me. He’s one of our regulars,” Noah said in a low tone as he stepped out from behind the cash register. “Congressman Blaisdell, what can I do for you?”

  Tracker leaned back against the counter and took a thorough look at the room. It was large and, at first glance, seemed cluttered. But as he let his gaze sweep the room a second time, he saw that there was an artful order to the chaos.

  Furniture, cabinets and tables were cleverly arranged to lure people in and facilitate traffic patterns. Vases, paintings and furniture were all displayed with a decorator’s touch. Across from him, an armoire in gleaming mahogany stood with its door open, revealing fragile-looking vintage dresses and shawls, their lace yellowed with age. In front of it, a matching dining table, with chairs, was set with crystal, china and silver for eight.

  Knowing there were two smaller rooms on the second floor, Tracker wandered toward the stairs.

  “This is splendid, simply splendid.” Chris Chandler rubbed his hands together in front of the ceramic bowl he’d been studying. “The green-blue tones will fit perfectly in Millie’s foyer. How did you ever find it, Sophie?”

  “It’s from that shop I found on the west coast of England. The owner showcases local artists, and he keeps an eye out for me. I’ll place a hold on this bowl for you, but before you make a decision, I’m sure there’ll be other pieces in the shipment that’s arriving today.”

  “When?” Millie asked.

  Sophie glanced at her watch. “Any minute.”

  As if on cue, a bell rang at the back of the shop.

  “Speak of the devil,” Sophie said as she glanced over her shoulder.

  “Don’t let us keep you, my dea
r,” Millie said. “I just want to be sure that you’re coming to my party tonight. I’m introducing Sir Winston to Washington society, and everyone will be there.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it, and I’m bringing a guest.”

  “Really?”

  At Sophie’s wave, Tracker joined them and shook hands as Sophie made the introductions.

  “I’ll see you tonight then,” Millie said as Chris and her husband urged her toward the door.

  “And I’ll be back after lunch to check the shipment. Ta,” Chris said.

  The moment Sophie disappeared into the back room, Tracker headed toward the stairs and climbed them two at a time to check out the second floor. He’d designed the security system for the store by looking at blueprints, and now he checked out the job his men had done as he wandered through two charmingly decorated bedrooms that were filled to the brim with high-ticket items. A clever thief might get through the first line of defense, but the second layer of the system he’d designed would fool even an expert.

  Satisfied that the shop was secure, at least for the time being, he glanced through a narrow glass pane to the courtyard below and watched Sophie take a clipboard from a deliveryman. Then she waved to another man as he popped his head out of the back of the truck.

  What Tracker was observing today was that Sophie Wainwright was not just another pretty face. She was also a savvy businesswoman who’d managed in five years to attract many of Washington’s movers and shakers into her shop.

  That shouldn’t surprise him. The first time he’d ever met her, she’d slipped right past him and landed a good right cross to her brother’s jaw. She’d taken exception to the fact that Lucas had hired him to spy on her fiancé. And now he was spying on both her and her customers. And he was sleeping with her, too.

  Face the facts, McBride. You’ve wanted to make love to her from the moment you grabbed her away from Lucas that day and she cried in your arms. Looking back, Tracker could see that his attraction to her had started at that first encounter and had led right to where he was today—caught between a rock and a hard place.