Hot Target. Lisa Renee Jones
a distinctly feminine sound, drawing their attention. Shocked at someone else’s presence, Katie instantly moved to take a step backward. Luke quickly settled his hands around her waist, holding her there against him. Katie cast him a disbelieving look and had opened her mouth to complain when he whispered, “Remember your cover. We’re dating.”
“I think we’re about to have our first fight,” she ground out, giving him her best evil glare, intended for perps under arrest but quite effective with low-life athletes who couldn’t keep it in their pants. Her attention shifted to the visitor, a woman—no, girl—not more than nineteen. Distress etched her youthful features, a frown on her heart-shaped face. Her faded, ripped jeans and pretty yellow lace blouse were as youthful as the highlights streaking her long, dark hair. A sick feeling gathered in Katie’s stomach. Apparently, Luke Winter liked them young, and he didn’t care if he had more than one woman in his house at once. She visualized the pleasure she’d get from a well-placed knee, something she should have already given him. Pig!
“Hi, Jessica,” Luke said. “Katie, this—”
Jessica rambled over the top of him. “I should have known better than to let myself—” Her hands twisted together, her voice trailing off.
“Let yourself what?” Luke said, actually having the gall to sound both concerned and confused.
Katie would have told him where to stick that stupid act of his, too, but the girl spoke up first. “My mother wanted me to let you know the guest room is ready.” Her hate-filled gaze shifted to Katie. “She said you’d need it.”
Katie blinked and turned to Luke. “Who’s her mother?” What the heck did the man have going on here?
“I am,” came a voice etched with accent. A gentle-looking older woman stepped up beside Jessica, her thick, dark hair streaked with gray and pinned in a bun. “I’m Maria Rodriguez, Luke’s housekeeper.” She paused and smiled at Luke. “But he’s more like a son to me.” Her friendly attention, so unlike her daughter’s, shifted to Katie. “You must be the someone special Ron told me Luke had arriving this evening. We let ourselves in. To make sure you had everything you needed.”
“Someone special?” Katie repeated. She swallowed, biting back anger—and not at Luke this time. She and Ron were going to have words. He had clearly planned the dating thing from the start and thrown her to the wolves—no plan, no story in the mix. And now she and Luke were flying by the seat of their pants. Lacing her arm with Luke’s, she forced a smile in his direction. “Is that what I’m being called these days? Should I tell you what my special name for you is?”
Luke slid his hand over hers. “Why don’t we save that for when we’re alone, sweetheart.” He pulled her a bit closer, their hips aligned, and the message clear—he was more than happy to play boyfriend. No doubt because he thought he was going to be getting more of that kiss-kiss action.
They’d be clearing up that misconception sooner rather than later. It was time to recover from this unexpected meeting and get her ducks in a row. This was business, not pleasure, which she should never have forgotten.
Speaking to Maria, Luke added, “The ‘someone special’ comment is Ron’s way of being discreet about Katie and I dating. You know how I dislike the media delving into my personal life.”
“Hound dogs, those reporters,” Maria said with a huff. “I get sick of them snooping around, and I’m not the one they are trying to snap photos of.” She pursed her lips toward Katie. “Hope they don’t run you off.”
“If anyone runs me off,” Katie said, squeezing Luke’s arm meaningfully, “I can assure you, it will be Luke.” She glanced at him, their eyes clashing in a strained connection before she forced a smile in Maria’s direction. “And it’s nice to meet you, by the way.”
Katie’s attention flickered to Jessica, whom she’d concluded either a) had a big-time crush on Luke, or b) was sleeping with him, or maybe even c) had slept with him at one point and hoped to again. Whatever the case, she was going on the suspect list. “Nice to meet you, as well, Jessica.”
Jessica gave her a barely there nod and then eyed Luke, speaking to him, not Katie. “She’s in the room next to yours.” There was a message there—I know she isn’t sleeping with you.
Maria quickly responded, as if she sensed her daughter’s agitation and inference, and was trying to cover it up. “It’s a beautiful room,” she said. “Let me know if I can do anything for you while you’re here, Katie.”
Jessica remained focused on Luke. “Should I show her to her room?”
Katie grimaced, disliking the way Jessica spoke as if she was not there.
A slow, intimate smile slipped onto Luke’s lips as he glanced down at her. “I’ll show Katie to her room myself.” Okay. So if Jessica thought the separate rooms meant they were not sleeping together, Luke’s stare, at that moment, must have rattled her. Because even Katie was almost convinced she was sleeping with Luke based on that hot, steamy look.
Maria cleared her throat, her cheeks red. “We’ll leave you for the night and head home. Oh, and Katie, your bag is in your room.”
“Thank you,” Kate said quickly. At the same moment, Luke slid his arm back over Katie’s shoulder, another intimate, overly friendly gesture. She wanted to shove him away, especially when little ripples of awareness began spraying along her nerve endings. She had so many reasons to dislike this man, yet her body couldn’t seem to get in agreement with that rationale. Nor did she have time to dart away when Maria and Jessica finally departed.
The instant she and Luke were alone, Luke turned to face her, pulling her to him, hands still around her waist. “You thought Jessica and I were together.”
Denial seemed futile. “Are you?” she challenged, her fingers melded to those damn, far-too-appealing muscular arms.
“She’s my housekeeper’s daughter, Katie,” he said, his voice laced with disbelief. “I was at her sweet-sixteen party. She’s a kid. I have not, nor would I ever, sleep with Jessica. You really want to hate me, don’t you?”
Yes! And it would be easier if he would let her go and stop touching her. “You’ve not exactly given me reason to do anything but hate you.”
She got her wish. He dropped his hands from her waist and stared at her. “Because I was trying to get rid of you, and for the record, I know I was a jerk and I’m sorry. But you have to admit you were an easy target, with all kinds of preconceived notions about me.”
Her eyes went wide. “You admit you were a jerk?”
“Yes,” he said pointedly, hands on his hips. “And I said I’m sorry, in case you missed that part. Now it’s your turn. Do you admit you judged me before meeting me?”
She sighed, crossing her arms in front of her chest, her foot tapping with nervous energy. It was true, she had prejudged him. “Okay, yes, I did, but I’m not apologizing. You were a jerk. I have no reason to believe it was an act.”
“Do you make a habit of kissing jerks?”
“Apparently, I do,” she replied shortly.
His expression darkened, eyes flashed. “I’m not him, you know.”
She knew who he meant. Her ex. The one who had said he was different from all the others but wasn’t. She chose to play dumb. “Who might that be?”
He nodded decisively. “Got it. You don’t want to talk about the past, and that appears to be the root of all my evil.”
“You learn fast,” she said. “But you seem to create your own evil quite nicely. You don’t need anyone from my past to do it for you.”
His jaw tensed, heat firing from his eyes, a mixture of anger and arousal. He wanted to kiss her into submission—she could see it in his eyes, and she barely contained the urge to back away.
“I’ll