Cara Summers - Game For Anything

The inescapable fact that she’d come close to doing that twice now—by hooking up with fortune hunters who were after the Wainwright money—humiliated and infuriated her. Having her weakness and stupidity exposed by a complete stranger had only added salt to the wound. Tracker McBride now knew what everyone else in the family knew: she just wasn’t good enough to be a Wainwright.

Tracker’s continued surveillance of her during the past year only confirmed that her brother still didn’t trust her. Every time she went out at night to meet friends, she could sense Tracker’s presence. At times, she was sure that she could feel his gaze moving over her, and the sensation was so intense that he might as well have been touching her. But he never came close enough for her to spot him.

Except in her dreams.

“Damn it.” Rising, she scooped Chess up from the bed and headed toward the kitchen “I’ve got to get free of him.”

Chess snorted again.

“No, you don’t.” Settling the cat on the counter, she pointed an accusing finger at him. “I’m speaking the truth. For the past year, I’ve been having dreams about this phantom lover who never comes near me in real life. And as long as I have him, I don’t want anyone else.”

Chess made no comment.

“It’s pathetic.” Taking a beer out of the refrigerator, she poured it into a saucer and set it in front of him. Then she grabbed her vice of choice—cold pizza.

“I certainly don’t want John Landry.” There. She’d said it out loud.

Chess rubbed against her arm.

“You think you’re a regular truth serum, don’t you?”

Chess returned to his beer.

Glancing down at the pizza, Sophie realized she’d lost her appetite. She’d been dating John Landry for two weeks, and he was everything she should want in a man—good-looking, sweet, attentive and rich enough so that Lucas wouldn’t have to worry he was after the Wainwright money. He even shared her passion for the antique business.

The problem was, two weeks of dating him had not freed her from her dreams of Tracker. If tonight was any example, dating John had only intensified her desire for The Shadow.

She put the pizza back in the refrigerator untouched.

“I’m going to have to dump John.”

Chess’s silence indicated his agreement.

“Rejection sucks.” She’d experienced enough of it from her parents that she didn’t like doing it to anyone. But it wasn’t fair to keep dating John Landry. Even now it was difficult for her to conjure up an image of him. The minute she thought she’d captured his blond hair and lean, aristocratic face, the features blurred into the more roughly hewn cheekbones and dark unruly hair of Tracker McBride.

“Damn the man!” She had to stop thinking about him.

The moment Chess lapped up the last drop of beer, she scooped him up and carried him to the couch. “Movie time.” With any luck she’d find an old classic on a cable station that would distract her, then lull her into a dreamless sleep.

After two minutes of dedicated channel surfing, she located one of her favorites, To Catch a Thief. Settling back against the cushions, she watched Grace Kelly drive a convertible up into the hills of Monte Carlo with Cary Grant at her side. The woman was on a mission. She wanted Cary, and she was going to get him.

Sophie could identify with Grace. She’d always thought of herself as a strong, determined woman, willing to take risks—before she’d taken one too many and gotten herself kidnapped. Thank God, she’d been rescued by Tracker McBride.

Cary Grant was definitely worth wanting. When the movie was made, he’d been at his prime, and the character of the handsome, dangerous jewel thief had suited him to a T. He reminded Sophie a little of Tracker. Both had that air of danger and mystery about them.

All she really knew about The Shadow was that he and Lucas had flown missions together in the service, missions that Lucas would never talk about. Cary Grant’s character had secrets, too. And there was one more thing that reminded her of Tracker—the reformed jewel thief in the movie didn’t want to have anything to do with the rich, spoiled American that Grace was playing.

Of course, that hadn’t slowed Grace down one bit. Plus the whole time she was seducing Grant’s character on-screen, she’d been equally busy offscreen, nabbing herself a prince. Sophie was willing to bet that the woman hadn’t broken a sweat doing either.

Cool, smart, determined. Sophie had to admire someone like that. Eyes narrowing, she watched Grace Kelly open a picnic basket and laugh teasingly at something Cary said.

Sophie was going to see Tracker at the anniversary party tomorrow. Lucas was recreating every detail of their wedding for his wife, Mac—and Tracker wouldn’t dare stay away. He’d been the best man. Sophie’s mind raced. She could invite John Landry to go with her—and why not Carter Mitchell, too? He managed the gallery next to her shop, and he wouldn’t mind doing her a favor. If she arrived with two men, Tracker might… No.

“No, I am not, I repeat, not thinking of seducing Tracker McBride.”

Chess growled deep in his throat, his disbelief clear.

“Shut up.” But the cat was right as usual. She was thinking of doing just that. Why should Grace have all the fun? And why should Sophie spend another night just having Tracker in her dreams?

Being a good girl and dating the kind of men that she knew her brother would approve of hadn’t worked. Maybe the only way to break free from the trap she found herself in was to seduce the man who held her there….

“LUCAS, WILL YOU TAKE this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Sophie blinked back a tear as her brother said yes. She’d never thought of Lucas as being romantic, but marriage had changed him.

“Mac, will you take Lucas to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Sophie blinked again as her best friend repeated her vow. As the maid of honor, Sophie stood in attendance behind the bride, elbow to elbow with the best man, Tracker McBride. It was bad enough that every pore in her body seemed to be aware of him—she was not going to cry in front of him!

“By the power invested in me…”

Sophie sniffed as a tear slid down her cheek. The game plan she’d come up with to grab Tracker’s attention was not going well. It hadn’t mattered one bit that she’d arrived with two men in attendance. The Shadow hadn’t appeared until it was time to escort her from the patio outside Lucas’s office to the trellis in the rose garden. And all it had taken was the brief, impersonal press of his hand on the small of her back to reawaken her fantasy of having his hands touch every part of her. Just thinking about it had her skin feeling hot and icy at the same time.

Sophie blinked away a second tear. Damn it! Grace Kelly hadn’t cried in front of Cary Grant. She’d been all smiles and champagne picnics and dogged determination. More importantly, she’d had a game plan that worked.

“I now pronounce you man and wife.”

When Lucas and Mac turned to embrace each other, Sophie felt the second tear slide down her cheek. They shared what she’d always wanted—that closeness with a person you loved and who loved you back.

Hoping that no one would notice, she raised a hand slowly, intending to wipe the tears away. Tracker’s arm brushed against hers when he stepped closer and pressed a handkerchief into her hand, and she felt heat streak right down to her toes.

“You okay, Princess?”

Okay? How could she be okay when her insides had become as liquid as the tears running down her face? And when the man who was responsible was treating her like a kid sister? Dabbing at her eyes, she managed a nod.