Hot Target. Lisa Renee JonesЧитать онлайн книгу.
he’s received, early tomorrow. At least, that’s what Ron promised me at the airport.”
“I certainly would hope so,” Donna said. “He rushed you to take this job as it is. If it’s urgent so is the data for us to do our jobs.”
“Agreed,” Katie said. “But right now, we should both get some rest.”
“Night-night, Katie dear. Dream sweet. May I suggest a theme? How about a little true undercover action with a certain sexy baseball player? A pitcher maybe?”
Katie laughed despite herself. “The only way you could know he’s sexy is if you did an online search. And you did, didn’t you?”
Donna snorted. “I watch television.”
“You hate sports.”
“But not the players,” she said. “I’d love some baseball player in nice tight pants. Oh, yes. I keep up with the highlights. Luke’s a hottie. Admit it.”
“Professionalism, Donna,” Katie said, pretending ample indignation. “I’m hanging up.”
“Meaning you think he’s sexy.”
“Hanging up now, Donna.” And she did. Katie hit the end button on the phone and tossed it to the bed. The phone immediately rang again. She rolled her eyes and answered. “Donna. Good night already.” Silence.
“Donna?”
A strange feeling inched its way up her spine. This wasn’t Donna or anyone else she called a friend. The line was so silent, it was eerie. But someone was on the line. Someone who had her private phone number.
Apparently the hoodlums who were after her sister knew people. Damn. She took a deep, calming breath. “I told you the money was coming. You’ll get it.” Silence.
“You’ll get your money.”
The line went dead. Katie dialed Donna to warn her. By the time she hung up the phone again, she was ready to pace the floor. No way was she sleeping.
NEAR EIGHT the next morning, dressed in black jeans and a matching black ruffled blouse, Katie sat at Luke’s island kitchen bar. With only a few hours of sleep under her belt, Katie had, nevertheless, woken up more determined than ever to keep things between her and Luke all business and, in fact, to get down to business. She placed a steamy cup of coffee beside her; she needed the caffeine and had helped herself to the coffeepot.
Those gambling sharks had to get out of her sister’s life, and this job allowed Katie the financial means to make it happen. That advantage deserved grateful hard work, not the bitter resistance she’d come here with, which, if she were honest with herself, was immature and out of character.
She was here to keep the man safe, and she intended to do so. That she wanted him, that he clearly and totally rocked her body to a steamy sizzle, complicated things. But she wasn’t going to allow it to get in the way of protecting him. And truth be told, playing the girlfriend put her front and center with those closest to him—and those people had to be considered suspects.
So with all that logic recapped in her mind about a million times and with her laptop fired up in front of her, Katie searched media blitzes involving Luke that might offer leads on his stalker. She tabbed through a recent story on Luke regarding the thieving, low-life manager he’d endured before Ron took over. Luke had been through some real bad stuff lately, enough to make her sit up and take notice. No wonder he didn’t want Katie around, she thought, lifting her coffee cup to sip. A sudden prickling of heat tingled along her skin.
Katie’s gaze lifted and settled on Luke, who was standing in the entryway, looking good enough to eat for breakfast in faded jeans, a team T-shirt that hugged his oh-so-yummy broad chest, and a pair of scuffed cowboy boots. His light brown hair, thick and a bit mussed up, screamed for well-placed female fingers—not hers, she told herself. Okay. Maybe hers.
“You’re up early,” he said, crossing to the coffeepot and grabbing a cup from the shiny walnut cabinet.
“So are you,” she said, quickly minimizing the computer screen to hide the story she was reading so Luke wouldn’t see it.
“I’m an early riser,” he said from behind and to her right. “It’s a curse. No matter how late I go to sleep, I wake up by eight in the morning.”
She rotated around to bring him into view, resting her arm on the high back of the bar stool. “I wish I had that curse. It would make getting up easier.”
“You don’t want this curse. It leaves you sleep deprived more times than not.” He filled his cup. “I see you found the coffee.”
“Hope you don’t mind,” she said, but somehow she knew he didn’t. “I kind of made myself at home.”
He joined her at the corner of the bar, directly beside her, and reached for the creamer sitting next to her computer. “Not at all,” he commented, dumping the creamer in his cup. “Nice to wake up to it already made.” He snagged her spoon where it rested on a paper towel and stirred. Her spoon. He knew it was hers. It was an intimate gesture of sharing that people in relationships did and it sent a silly little flutter through Katie’s stomach.
“That’s what they make automatic-timer coffeepots for,” she said.
He sipped his coffee. “I never seem to remember to put the coffee in the night before.”
“I’m surprised Maria doesn’t set it up for you,” she commented.
He shrugged. “She only comes three times a week,” he said. “She keeps the dust from building up while I’m gone, and it’s nice to have a home-cooked meal when I’ve been on the road for months on end.”
“Where are your parents?” Katie asked. “Are you close to them?”
“They’re in Austin, Texas, where I played college ball. Still my biggest fans and the best people I have ever known in this lifetime despite being my parents.”
Katie smiled softly, took a sip of her coffee. It said a lot about a man when he was not only close to his parents, but spoke openly about how close he was to them. “Any siblings?”
He took a drink and then set his cup down. “None,” he said, resting his hands on the end of the island bar. “What about you? Parents? Siblings?”
She considered dodging the question, but Luke deserved to know who he was working with, especially after all she’d read about him and his past manager. “My parents died in a car crash a few years back,” she said. “And yes, one sibling. A younger sister by five years who was a senior in college when it happened. And in her own words, I’m ridiculously protective of her.”
He studied her a moment, and thankfully skipped the obligatory I’m so sorry remark that people seemed to feel the need to say and that Katie had grown to hate.
“Ron told me you’d traveled with a few high-profile musicians. Is that why you stopped? To be closer to her?”
“No,” she said. “I didn’t immediately come home. Nor did I see how shaken my sister was by the loss of our parents.” She’d been too busy hiding from the loss herself, trying to pretend they were at home, still alive. Until she’d found Joey with another woman and realized how much she needed a change.
Then she’d come home to discover her sister’s seemingly amazing husband was a low-life user who’d gambled away Carrie’s life insurance and then some.
Katie shook off the memory and continued, “My father was a retired police detective. We’d been talking about opening a private security firm together. I finally did it last year.”
“You were a dancer turned security staff on tour right?”
She nodded. “Yes. And I know. It’s a stretch unless you know about my father.” She hesitated. “Luke. I took this job at the very last minute, and I was unprepared for our first meeting. I hadn’t