Game for Anything (9 page)

Tracker waited until Chance had made his exit before he pushed himself away from the wall and wandered through the French doors. He spotted Chance on the other side of some potted trees and joined him. “Your boss is an interesting woman.”

Chance grinned at him. “If it weren't for my cover, that lady and I could be having a very good time.” He took a drag of his cigarette.

“You know what they say,” Tracker said. “It's best not to mix business with pleasure.”

Chance's brows shot up as he blew out smoke. “And here I always thought you were a man who walked what you talked.”

Tracker frowned as he glanced back at the French doors. “This is different. Sophie's different. And it's
complicated.” He spotted Landry making his way to the side of the room Sophie was on. “Right now I don't know of any other way to stay close enough to protect her.”

“It sounds like great work if you can get it.” Chance lifted his glass to Tracker.

Tracker pinned the other man with a cool look. “I didn't plan it this way, but I'll do whatever is necessary to protect her. It's tricky, because she's every bit as smart as her brother.”

Chance gave a low whistle.

Tracker met his eyes. “Yeah. That smart. We've got to nail this guy fast. Sophie is going to figure out what I'm up to, and once she does, I can't predict what she'll do except order me out of her life. I want to know everything that you know.”

“I've told you—”

“Cut the shit. Tell me why you can't let your boss know that you were in Sophie's shop helping to unload that shipment. She wasn't on the list of suspects you gave me.”

With an easy smile that didn't reach his eyes, Chance tossed his cigarette to the flagstones and ground it beneath his foot. “Relax. I don't want Meryl to know how friendly I've become with Sophie. It's partly to protect my cover. She's a bit jealous of Sophie's success. Both of them come from the same background. However, Meryl just dabbles in commerce, while Sophie has a real talent for it.” Chance offered his drink to Tracker. “Peace offering. I figure I have five minutes before Meryl crooks her little finger at me and I have to go back to work.”

Tracker took a swallow of Scotch and passed the glass back. “Talk fast.”

“What I told you at Lucas's party is correct as far as it goes. We don't know who's behind the smuggling. What we do know is the Puppet Master has connections that go very high up on both sides of the Atlantic.” Chance took a long swallow of his Scotch. “It's no accident that I'm working in Meryl's shop. She and her aunt Millie are very well connected. Either of them could easily be the middleman, or they could be pawns, just as Sophie is a pawn. We just don't know.”

“You got any good news?”

Chance met his eyes steadily. “No. We're dealing with a very dangerous individual. The best thing that you can do is to stick to Sophie like glue and give the impression of business as usual.”

Tracker nodded. “Okay, let's try another angle. Do you have any idea which piece today held the coin?”

“No. I couldn't locate it. But I'm working on it. I should have an answer before I leave the party tonight.”

“Carter, I need you.”

The two men turned to see Meryl Beacham standing at the French doors.

Chance moved toward her. “Coming, darling.”

Biting back his impatience, Tracker followed them back into the solarium. He had no choice but to watch and wait.

 

E
ACH TIME SHE HAD
a chance, Sophie found her gaze seeking out Tracker. Currently, he was surrounded by
women. No surprise there. She recognized the tall, leggy blonde as being the president's press secretary. Another one was clerking for the chief justice of the Supreme Court. What surprised her was the way Tracker fit in as if he'd been navigating his way through the Washington social scene all his life.

For a man who didn't enjoy parties, he certainly didn't look like this one was bothering him any. For the first time since she'd met him, Sophie wondered what he did when he wasn't being Lucas's head of security.

“You're looking lovely in that dress.”

Sophie turned to find John Landry at her side, offering her a glass of white wine. She took it gratefully. “Thanks. You're looking very well yourself.” And he was. He was the kind of man she'd always thought she'd fall in love with. The kind of man she'd done her best to fall in love with three times.

Sophie frowned as she took a swallow of her wine. Now, where had that thought come from? And why hadn't she ever realized before that Bradley, Sunny and John were all the same type—solid, good-looking businessmen and just the kind of person a Wainwright should marry?

She shifted her gaze to Tracker. All of the men she'd pictured getting serious about were the complete opposite of Tracker McBride. Tracker was the kind of man you kidnapped in your red convertible and thought of racing away into the mountains with. Or had hot sex in your shower with. And she'd always wanted someone she could depend on, someone who would be there and never walk away.

“Penny for your thoughts,” John said.

“They're not worth even that.” She was not getting serious about Tracker McBride. That was not part of the deal. They were simply having a no-strings, no-holds-barred affair between equal partners. Those were the rules they'd both agreed to, and Sophie believed in honoring her agreements. At the end of it, they would both walk away. Ignoring the little band of pain that settled around her heart, she managed a smile as she turned to John Landry.

“I'm just zoning out a little. It's been a long day. You have my permission to pinch me if I do it again.”

“You should get more help in that shop.”

Sophie studied him for a moment. There was something different about him tonight—a hint of nerves or excitement beneath his usual smooth exterior. “Something's bothering you.”

“You're very perceptive. Something has been bothering me all evening but it's finally clicked.”

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing important. I met someone tonight—a stranger, but he seemed familiar. And I just remembered where I saw him before. However, what I really came over here to tell you was that I talked with Matt Draper today.”

Sophie smiled. “I wish he was here tonight. He'd be the man of the hour. You have no idea how many people are suddenly interested in the ceramic pieces I've been ordering through his shop. I'm going to have to call him.”

Landry took a sip of his wine. “He mentioned the shipment you received today when he was talking to
me. He wondered how you liked the ceramic horse he sent.”

Sophie smiled. “You can tell him that I liked the horse so much that I took it right upstairs to unpack. No, on second thought, I'll tell him myself. I'm calling him tomorrow to tell him I need more where that came from.”

“I'll mention it to him when I see him.” Landry glanced at his watch. “I'll be flying back to England tomorrow and I have some loose ends to tie up.”

Sophie stared at him. “I thought you planned to stay for another few weeks.”

Landry glanced to where Tracker was standing, then met her eyes. “I'd hoped to, but my plans have changed, and so, it seems, have yours. I'm sorry for that, Sophie. I'd hoped…” Leaning over, he brushed her lips with his. “I'll give you a call next time I'm in D.C. to see if anything has changed.”

 

T
RACKER HAD NEVER FELT
his blood move to the boil quite so quickly. Only years of working to restrain his temper allowed him to stay right where he was, talking to a tall woman who was boring him senseless, while he watched every move that Landry made. The kiss was the final straw. It reminded him of what was reality. Sophie and he came from different worlds. She belonged with the people in this room. He didn't.

And as Landry walked away, she looked as if she'd lost something. That was what had brought his blood to the boil. Jealousy, anger, frustration. Hell, they were bad enough when they weren't mixed with the fear that he wasn't going to be able to keep her safe. And
there was something else, too. He wanted to take that sad look off of her face.

“Damn it,” he muttered.

“What did you say?”

With an effort, he turned his attention to the tall blonde who was the president's press secretary, and smiled. “I beg your pardon. I just remembered a phone call I forgot to make.”

 

E
VEN THOUGH HER BACK WAS
toward him, Sophie knew the minute Tracker started toward her from the far side of the room. It occurred to her that the special awareness that she always felt when he was around had only grown since they'd made love. Even Chris Chandler had seemed to be aware of it. She felt more alive, as if her life had gone from black and white to color, and she couldn't recall ever feeling quite so free. She wanted it to last.

As he drew closer, she turned and her gaze dropped to his mouth. It took only that to trigger a memory of what his lips felt like on hers. And she wanted to feel them again, on her breasts and on that most intimate part of her. The center of her body heated and then pooled into liquid.

When he reached her and his hand closed over hers, it felt like a brand. “I want you to come with me.”

“I can't leave the party yet,” she managed to answer.

His gaze never left hers as he slipped a card out of his pocket and gave it to her. “I'm not asking you to.”

She glanced down at the card, recognizing it as the “quickie on demand” coupon she'd given him earlier.

“Here?” She nearly gulped.

“And now. Those are the rules of the game as you explained them to me, right?”

She took a quick look at the people around them. No one seemed to be listening in on their conversation, thank heavens. “We can't.”

He flashed her a wicked grin. “Yes, we can. C'mon.”

“Tracker, I—”

“No holds barred. Remember?”

She bit back whatever else she might have said when she realized that she was already moving through the crowd with him toward the far end of the solarium.

“Are you having second thoughts about our deal, Princess?” he asked as he turned down a hallway and opened the first door.

It was a powder room. He urged her into it, and with the door shut, the words
close quarters
took on new meaning. There was barely room for one person between the small toilet and the sink. His hands were on her waist, turning her around so that their bodies were just touching.

“I'm collecting on that coupon, Princess. Unless you want to back out?”

Her chin shot up. “I don't back out of agreements.”

He nodded, stepping back against the door. “Then take off your panties.”

A
THRILL WENT THROUGH HER
as she reached down and grasped the thin silk of her dress. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her reflection in the long mirror that covered the narrow wall above the vanity. But it was more interesting to watch Tracker. His eyes had narrowed and focused on the hem of her dress as she inched it up her thighs. She could actually see the muscles in his jaw tighten when she finally had the dress up to her waist. Her own breath was backing up in her throat as she slipped her thumbs under the elastic of her panties.

“The operative word here is
quickie.
” His voice sounded strained.

“Really? Am I doing something wrong?” From the look in his eyes and the tension she could see in his body, she was doing something right. The power of his reaction held an excitement all its own. Slowly, she began to push the elastic inch by inch over her hips and down her thighs. The pulse at Tracker's throat had begun to beat, and she felt her own blood quicken in response.

He waited only until she'd stepped out of the panties before he moved toward her. Slipping his hands beneath the hem of her dress, he pushed it up
and cupped her hips in one smooth movement. By the time he lifted her and braced her against the wall, she had her legs wrapped around him, doing everything she could to urge him closer.

“Quiet,” he whispered in her ear.

The urgency in his voice stilled her at once. Then she heard it, the quick click of high heels on parquet floors. Sophie was sure that neither one of them drew a breath as the sound of the footsteps grew closer and then gradually faded away.

He drew back then. His voice was strained, his gaze steady on hers when he said, “Do you want to stop?”

“No. I…what I'd like to do is try that black velvet ribbon.”

Tracker's eyes widened.

She'd shocked him, and the realization thrilled her. “You said you could do it….”

“You want to play that game
here?
”

“No holds barred.” She thought her heart might pound right out of her chest as he lowered her to the floor. But she wasn't going to back out now. The sight of him unbuckling his belt and unzipping his slacks had her fumbling as she took the ribbon out of her purse. She wasn't even sure why she'd brought it. She couldn't possibly have foreseen that she would actually suggest using it at Mrs. Langford-Hughes's party.

When Tracker lowered his briefs, her throat went dry and her free hand moved of its own accord to touch him.

He took her wrist firmly in his and spoke softly. “We'll play the dice game later, Princess. Someone could come along at any minute.”

Then, lifting her hand, he pressed his lips to it. “We'll take it slow and easy…at first. And any time you want to stop, you'll let me know?”

Stop? In another moment she was going to die if he didn't
start.

Then he lowered himself to the toilet seat and pulled her astride him. “Relax.”

She couldn't. He was shifting her on his lap, and she could feel his erection pressing against her, heavy, hot, seeking. But it wasn't close enough. Even as she tried to wiggle closer he slid a finger into her, then slowly drew it out.

The streak of pleasure was so sharp she nearly cried out. But it wasn't enough.

“Shh.” His voice was a breath in her ear. “We can't make any noise.” His hands gripped her waist and he lifted her. Finally, his erection probed her just a little. Just enough to have the ache within her growing.

“Don't tease me, she said in a tight whisper. “Please.”

“Lean forward a little and brace your hands on the sink.”

She did as he asked, and she felt him press into her a little more. The ribbon. She was supposed to do something with it. Struggling, she tried to picture the diagram as she leaned forward. She had to loop it around him.

“Wait.”

He stilled immediately, and she nearly cried out in protest.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked.

“No. I just can't remember what to do with the ribbon. I need to think for a minute.”

“Look in the mirror, Princess.”

All thought of the ribbon faded when she saw the image reflected there. He was sitting behind her, his face tight and strained, his eyes so hot she was sure that they alone were causing the flames that were searing through her. And she didn't even recognize the woman. She looked sexy and wanton. And hungry.

“I've been fantasizing about taking you this way ever since you showed me that ribbon and asked me to read the instructions.”

His words had her insides clenching, but it wasn't enough. She needed more of him now. “But the ribbon…”

“Who needs it?” He moved his mouth down her neck and along her shoulder. The fact that she could see him in the mirror as well as feel the heat of his lips and tongue was making her so hot that she thought she might just turn into steam.

“I'm going to take you now.”

She felt his teeth sink into her shoulder, and suddenly he was stretching her, filling her, deeper than he'd been before. The angle and the sensation were so different. She had one moment to absorb the incredible feeling before he withdrew and entered her again.

When she tried to move against him, he held her still.

“We're going to take this slow and easy, Princess. I don't want to hurt you.”

“You won't.” She didn't care if he did. She just
wanted him to move, to ease the incredible pressure that had begun to build inside of her.

At last he did, keeping the thrusts slow at first. With each one, he seemed to fill her even more deeply, and each time he began to withdraw, she tightened around him, gripping him as hard as she could to keep him inside of her.

All the time she could see the little contest going on between them in the mirror—their bodies moving, mating, straining to become one. But it was never quite enough. She needed more. And just when she thought she might die from the wanting, he moved his hand down from her waist to just the right spot between her legs and began to thrust harder and faster.

She felt her climax begin, one incredible wave washing through her, around her. Before she let it take her completely, she reached behind her to grip his arm and whispered, “Come with me, Tracker. Right now.”

She felt him thrust, and even as the world spun away, he shuddered against her.

 

A
T FIRST
T
RACKER THOUGHT
the sound was his heart pounding. But it stopped suddenly, and a woman's voice said, “Is anybody in there?”

How long had she been knocking? Gathering his thoughts, he was stunned to realize that he was cradling Sophie on his lap with no clear idea of how she'd gotten there or how long he'd been holding her. He was still shuddering, still struggling to breathe. His body still wasn't taking orders from his brain.

From the moment he'd told her to take off her panties, the need had begun to build in him until it
had become a searing pain. No woman had ever made him hurt before. His last rational thought had been to offer to stop, and then she'd mentioned that damn black ribbon. That reckless look in her eye, the thought of taking her that way, had completely short-circuited his brain.

Now her head was resting on his shoulder, and she was holding him as if she never wanted to let him go. The power that she wielded over him was so great that he didn't want to let her go, either.

The knock sounded again on the door.

Tracker drew in a deep breath. “I'll just be another minute.”

Sophie lifted her head just enough to whisper into his ear, “We're both caught with our pants down.”

He felt the laugh beginning to build, and ruthlessly controlled it. When he drew back far enough so that she could meet his eyes, hers were bright with amusement. Another woman would have been embarrassed or even angry. Sophie never ceased to amaze him.

She mouthed the words,
“What are we going to do?”

He leaned closer and nipped the lobe of her ear. “Want to go for seconds?” Then he quickly smothered her laugh by covering her mouth with his. One taste was all it took to have need building again. Incredible. Would it always be this way? Breaking off the kiss, Tracker met her eyes again. She looked as surprised and as ready as he was.

“We'd better both get our pants back on,” he whispered as he eased her off his lap. Then he reached to pull his own up. When he bent down to retrieve hers,
he saw the coupon that they'd exchanged. He handed it to her with the panties. “Your turn.”

With a grin, she tucked it into the top of her dress, then reached down to tug up the hem.

Shoving down a groan, Tracker stilled her hands. “That's what got us into this compromising position,” he breathed.

“You're not suggesting I go out there without my panties?”

“As enticing as that sounds, I just want you to wait until I'm on the other side of that door.”

For the first time, Sophie frowned. “But I can't stay here. That woman—”

Tracker squeezed her hand and winked. “Leave it to me, Princess.”

Placing his hands on her shoulders, he turned them both in a circle until they had reversed positions, and then he nudged her into the corner between the toilet and the door. “The moment I close the door, turn the lock.”

Sophie did exactly as he asked.

“Sorry about that.” The muffled sound of Tracker's voice carried through the door. “Nobody warned me about the seafood in the canapés.”

“No problem.” The woman's voice was a deep, throaty purr. It carried none of the impatience that had been evident earlier. “Are you going to be all right?”

“Good as new.”

Sophie saw the handle turn and heard the door click against the jamb.

“It's locked,” the woman said. The handle turned again.

“Here, let me.” The handle turned a third time. This time the door hit the jamb with a solid clunk.

“You're absolutely right.”

The surprise in Tracker's voice had Sophie clamping a hand over her mouth.

“What am I supposed to do now?” the woman asked.

“Not to worry. You know, in a house this size, there must be other powder rooms. I'll help you find one.”

As the footsteps faded down the parquet floors, Sophie wiggled out of the corner Tracker had tucked her into. She owed him one. Glancing down at the panties and the black ribbon she still held in her hand, she finally let out the giggle she'd been holding in. She owed him more than one, and she was going to collect. Now that she knew the position in the diagram was not only anatomically possible, but incredible, she was going to have to work on her technique with the ribbon. Tucking it in her purse, she studied herself in the mirror.

She wasn't the same woman she'd been twenty-four hours ago. She'd never in her life sneaked into a bathroom with a man to have sex. And until today, she never would have imagined that Tracker McBride would ever do anything like that either. He was different from the man who'd haunted her dreams for the past year. He was an even better lover than she'd imagined—and he was fun! She'd just never expected the man who'd annoyed her so much to bring such bright explosions of pleasure into her life.

Wiggling into her panties, Sophie continued to study her own reflection in the mirror. Thanks to
Tracker, she was discovering things about herself she'd never known. Oh, she'd always enjoyed sex. But she'd never before wanted it with the intensity that she felt with Tracker. She'd never wanted to taunt and tease a man the way she did him. Nor had she ever thought of herself as an exhibitionist, but it had thrilled her to take off her panties and watch his response. Just thinking about it had desire curling inside of her again.

With it came a little sliver of worry. How was she going to let Tracker go when the affair was over?

 

H
E'D NEVER SEEN
a woman work harder, Tracker decided a little over an hour later. Since she'd emerged from the bathroom, Sophie had managed to work the entire solarium. He was beginning to understand that her shop meant as much to her as his job did to him. And he'd come very close to blowing his.

What in hell had he been thinking when he'd given her that coupon and taken her to the powder room? No, the real question was what had he been thinking with? Certainly not with his head. If they'd been discovered, it could have damaged a business reputation that she'd worked very hard to build. And he'd been negligent to leave her there alone while he'd run interference with the large, buxom lady who'd knocked so adamantly on the door.

Tracker let his glance shift back to Sophie. She was standing half a football field away. And there was far more than space separating them. He'd do well to remember that his job was to protect her, and he'd better keep his mind on doing just that.

He was frowning when his cell phone rang. He
moved quickly toward the doors that opened onto the patio. No one had his cell phone number except Lucas and the men who worked security at the Wainwright office complex. His security team only called him in an emergency.

Flipping the phone open, he said, “Tracker.”

“We got a call from the D.C. police, boss. A Detective Ramsey says there's been a break-in at Sophie Wainwright's shop, but the alarm didn't go off.”

“When?” Tracker asked as his mind raced.

“He wouldn't give any details. He just said that it's very important that Ms. Wainwright call him.”

A tight ball of fear settled in Tracker's stomach. Lucas and Mac had had some dealings with Detective Ramsey last year, and Tracker had checked the guy out. According to the information he'd dug up, Ramsey worked in a special unit for the DCPD. It specialized in high-profile disappearances and homicide.

“I want you to call Ramsey back and tell him that Ms. Wainwright is on her way to the shop.”