Risking It All: The Proposition / The Dare / The Favour / The P.I. / The Cop / The Defender. Cara Summers

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СКАЧАТЬ about herself—and she was going to need every shred of confidence she had—or could borrow—to get the interview with Jared Slade.

      She wasn’t even going to think about what she would do if she met the Terminator again, let alone what would happen if he kissed her again.

      After stepping out of the car, she hurried across the road and used the grasses growing in the ditch for cover as she approached the drive that led to the Wainwright mansion.

      As far as she could see there wasn’t a guard. Just a wide wrought-iron gate between two twelve-foot brick walls. Thanks to a full moon, she’d gotten a good view of the main house and grounds when she’d crested the last hill, and she’d noted that a brick wall bordered the rambling estate on all four sides. She’d counted two other buildings besides the house—a pool house and what she guessed to be a stable. Lucas Wainwright had some pretty nice digs.

      Pushing her way through the grass, she climbed out of the ditch and crossed the road. The gate held when she pushed against it. Moving to the right, the direction she’d come from, she studied the wall. The bricks looked fairly new—the mortar that held them was smooth. Not a chink in sight. But she’d passed a tree. Breaking into a jog, she headed toward it.

      The limb was just out of her reach, so she jumped for it. When her hands slipped the first time, she landed on her butt. Making a mental note that she had to start going to her gym on a more regular basis, she scrambled to her feet and leapt for the lowest branch.

      This time her grip held, but it took her three tries before she managed to swing her legs up and hook them around the branch. For a moment, she hung there and just concentrated on breathing. Upper-body strength was what she needed. Along with that fanny lift. She’d start first thing tomorrow.

      For now, she wiggled, swore, wiggled and swore again until she sat upright on the branch. The ground looked far away and, up close and personal, the branch looked a lot less sturdy. It bobbed and swayed in perfect rhythm with the way her stomach was pitching around as she inched her way along its length. Once she reached the wall, she crawled carefully onto it, then made herself take slow, calming breaths.

      A quick assessing look around didn’t make her stomach feel any better. There was no tree in sight on this side, and the ground still looked far away. All she had to do was dare herself, then wiggle to the edge and drop. Twelve feet wasn’t that far. She’d just count to three and take the plunge. Eyes closed, she’d counted to two when she heard the dogs barking. She opened her eyes and spotted two large black Labs barreling toward her. Any thought of sweet-talking them evaporated when she saw the man following them. Her Terminator.

      She felt that same punch to her system she’d felt the first time she’d spotted him in the lobby. He was walking toward her with that same ground-eating stride, that same focused purpose. Each step he took increased the sensations racing through her—the tingling in her palms, the race of her heart. And she was suddenly very aware of the way her nipples had hardened against the sheer fabric of her bra.

      This time, he was wearing gray sweats and a sleeveless gray tank top. As he drew closer, Rory could see the muscles that she’d only felt in the dressing room. She’d also become very aware of the way the red thong circled her hips and dipped low at the small of her back and she could feel the thin piece of lace that lay dampening at the center of her heat.

      Questions tumbled through her mind. Why was she reacting this way to this man? And why couldn’t she seem to control it?

      She still had time to climb back down the tree and run. The moment the idea slipped into her mind, she shoved it out. This man was her best chance of getting an interview with Jared Slade.

      The dogs reached the wall and were barking and leaping as high as they could. But Rory couldn’t take her eyes off the Terminator. Fear, anticipation and excitement tumbled through her, nearly making her dizzy. She pressed her hands hard into the top of the brick wall to steady herself.

      When he reached her, he settled the dogs with one quick gesture. Then he met her eyes and said, “What the hell are you doing here?”

       5

      “YOU DON’T LOOK HAPPY to see me,” Rory said.

      He wasn’t. He’d been just about to take a run when a security guard had pointed her out on one of the monitors, and Hunter hadn’t been able to prevent the quick flash of pleasure that had shot through him.

      As she’d tested the front gate, he’d made a list of the reasons he shouldn’t be happy to see her. For starters, her presence meant someone knew where he was, and the trap Tracker was setting might be totally useless.

      Secondly, he didn’t need the distraction. Just in the short time that it had taken him to reach her, his body had hardened painfully, and he was very much aware of his arousal pressing tight against his sweatpants. His reaction to this woman seemed to be completely out of his control.

      There had to be a reason for that. Studying her, he took in the black T-shirt she was wearing and the faded jeans that had worn thin at the knees. The red boots had been replaced by serviceable-looking sneakers. There was nothing at all about the outfit that should be remotely sexy. Nothing that should make him wonder how fast he could get her out of it and what she was wearing beneath it.

      She wasn’t his type. How many times had he reminded himself of that in the past twenty-four hours? He preferred women who were sophisticated, who knew the score, who were beautiful.

      Rory Gibbs wasn’t beautiful. He raked his glance over the pixie features, the slim, strong-looking body. Cute was the most he could grant her. She looked small, defenseless and strangely defiant sitting there looking down at him. That shouldn’t appeal to him, either—but it did.

      When she licked her lips, he fisted his hands at his sides and stifled the urge to reach up, grab her ankles and pull her off that wall. He wanted her thousands of miles away from him. But even more than that, he wanted that small, compact body bucking beneath his as he thrust into her.

      Tightening his grip on the control that had never deserted him before, Hunter said, “I asked you what in hell you’re doing here.”

      When she lifted her chin and met his eyes squarely, he couldn’t help but admire her.

      “You’ve had time to develop the pictures I gave you. So I’ve come for the interview you promised.”

      His eyes narrowed. “I didn’t promise you an interview.”

      “Close enough. You promised to talk to Jared Slade, and you look like a pretty persuasive man to me. Did you talk to him?” Her tone was quiet and her gaze never wavered.

      “He left before we could discuss it.”

      “He left? I missed him?”

      There was such shock, such disappointment on her face that Hunter wondered how there could be a dishonest bone in her body. If she tried to lie, surely her face, her body language would give her away. “How did you know he was here?”

      She raised a hand. “No. Wait a minute. You’re here. He wouldn’t go away without his bodyguard.”

      Hunter’s brows shot up. “Bodyguard?”

      Rory СКАЧАТЬ