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

She was sure that Natalie was referring to Jared Slade, but Rory had begun to think of Slade’s bodyguard as her current mystery man. Even now when she thought about what had happened in that dressing room, she had to pinch herself to make sure the whole thing hadn’t been a dream. Of course, the red thong she was carrying in the pink Silken Fantasies bag was proof positive of that.

No man had ever made her feel so wanted, so needy, so sexy, so…everything. The Terminator, as she called him, was her fantasy man made flesh, right down to the dimple. But even in her fantasies, she hadn’t imagined that clever mouth and those incredible hands. And she didn’t even know his name. He hadn’t signed it to the message he’d sent with the red thong and bra.

I’ve never enjoyed a kiss so much. That’s what the message had said. The one sentence had been playing itself over and over in her mind since the pink bag bearing the logo of Silken Fantasies had been delivered an hour ago to her temporary desk at Celebs.

The message had set off a string of questions. Did it mean he wanted to see her again? Did it mean he was going to get the interview for her? When she’d stopped by Les Printemps, all she’d been able to discover was that Jared Slade had checked out.

But the question foremost in her mind was would she feel the same way if he kissed her again? In her fantasies, Rory had explored that particular scenario several times. But the more logical side of her mind understood that fantasies and reality were worlds apart. And the logical side of her mind suspected the lingerie was a “dumping gift.” Paul had bequeathed her his toaster when he’d moved out of her apartment. His note had said, No hard feelings.

How many such gifts could she accumulate over a lifetime?

As Rory crossed the floor to the bar, she rubbed her left temple where a little headache was beginning to throb. Well, a red thong was a much classier “dumping gift” than a used toaster. And she hadn’t given up yet on tracking down the Terminator.

It was only when she reached Natalie that she recognized the man on the stool next to her sister.

“Hi, Chance,” she said and tried not to giggle when he took her free hand and kissed it. “I didn’t know you were back from London.”

“Always a pleasure, Rory,” Chance said. “I can’t stay away from your sister for very long.”

Rory wrinkled her nose. “You make it tough on a plain Jane like me. She’s even prettier when you’re around.”

Surprise flashed into Chance’s eyes. “Where’d you get the idea that you were a plain Jane?”

“Her ex planted that in her mind,” Natalie said. “He was a class-A jerk.”

“Want me to beat him up for you?” Chance offered.

“He’s history,” Rory assured him.

“Sierra and I have it covered,” Natalie said. “We have a voodoo doll in his image, and we take turns sticking pins into it.”

He pretended to look alarmed. “Remind me not to cross you.” As Chance slipped off the stool, he turned to Rory and winked. “Let me know if you change your mind. Right now, I have orders to disappear for a few minutes so that I won’t intrude on the girl talk.”

Rory climbed onto the stool and set her bag on the bar. “You know, I like him more each time I see him. You really hit the jackpot, Nat.”

Nat’s eyes were glowing as she watched Chance walk away. “Yeah, I did.”

“What’ll it be, Rory?”

“Hi, George.” Rory shot the tall, bronze-skinned man a smile. “A glass of white wine would be nice.”

“You got it,” he said as he pulled a glass from an overhead rack. When he set it down in front of her, his gaze fell on the pink bag, and his brows lifted. “What’s in the Silken Fantasies bag? Inquiring minds want to know.”

Natalie stared at the bag. “I thought only the rich and the famous could afford to shop there.”

Rory could feel the heat rise in her cheeks. “I didn’t shop there. Not exactly. I just ran in to try some things on, and—it’s a gift. Not for someone else. For me.” She was stuttering. “Someone gave it to me. I’m deciding if I should give it back.”

George winked at her. “Never give back expensive lingerie. But you’ll have to model it before I can give you an informed opinion.”

“Not a chance,” Rory said.

“Who gave you something from Silken Fantasies?” Natalie asked when George had moved down to the far end of the bar. “Did you get that from Jared Slade?”

“No.” Then she sighed. “It’s a long story.”

Natalie’s brows shot up. “Can I at least have the Reader’s Digest version?”

Rory took a sip of her wine and then gave her sister a modified version of her morning’s adventure. Since Natalie was a natural-born worrier, she left out the part about actually making love to a complete stranger and played up the kiss part.

“You didn’t get your interview, but you kissed Jared Slade’s bodyguard. And now you have a five-hundred-dollar red thong and matching bra and a note that says I never enjoyed a kiss so much,” Natalie summarized.

“In a nutshell.”

Natalie’s eyes narrowed. “And I thought Harry’s letter had changed me. How was the kiss?”

Rory ran her finger down the condensation on her wineglass. “On a scale of one to ten, it was about a thirty.”

Natalie grinned at her. “Good.”

Rory shook her head. “It was the kind of kiss that makes you want it to happen again. And that’s not good. I’ll probably never see him again. I probably won’t get that interview, either. I gave up any leverage I had when I gave him the pictures. Not that I could tell which one of the two men was the real Jared Slade anyway.”

“Hey, where’s that devil-may-care attitude? You’re sounding far too negative.”

Rory stared at her sister. She was right. “Negative’s the old Rory. The new Rory doesn’t want to be like that.”

Natalie smiled. “Sierra and I liked you just fine. But I think that you’re having more fun as the new Rory. And I have some news that may help you to nurture your inner daredevil.”

“What?”

Natalie leaned closer. “This is all off the record.”

“Of course.”

“I told you my partner and I were trying to keep tabs on Jared Slade. Right around noon, there was a call put in to the police. Someone delivered a bomb to his suite at Les Printemps. No one was hurt, but Matt and I were called to the scene.”

“Did you see Jared Slade?”

Natalie shook her head. “He wasn’t in the suite when it happened, and he took off before the uniforms arrived. But I do have a lead for you. Chance and I stopped by Sophie Wainwright’s shop this afternoon, and from something she said, I think this Jared Slade might be staying out at the Wainwright estate in Virginia.”

“What did she say?”

“Rory. Rory Gibbs, is that you?”

Recognizing the voice of her boss at Celebs, Rory placed a hand on Natalie’s arm and turned to smile at Lea Roberts who was striding toward them. Lea was looking very put together in a beige linen suit, and wore her dark hair long and straight in an attempt to carry off a maturing Demi Moore look.

“Lea,” Rory said, “this is my sister, Detective Natalie Gibbs.”

As the two women nodded at each other, Rory continued, “Lea has been my boss and mentor at Celebs. She’s done a lot to help me there.”

“I pick my protégées very carefully,” Lea said to Natalie. Then she turned to Rory. The smile on her face didn’t reach her eyes. “I’ve been trying to reach you all day. When I missed you at the office, I went over to the hotel, but I was told that Jared Slade had already checked out. Tell me you got the picture.”

“Yes, but—” Rory began.