Hot Item

CHAPTER THREE

SOPHIE’S HEAD POUNDED as she exited the cab at the airport. The pain in her temple had nothing to do with Spencer and everything to do with her traveling companion.

She had enough on her mind without having to deal with the constant distraction Riley would provide and she’d called him in a last-minute attempt to discourage him from joining her, but the man insisted on being there the minute she found his father. Assuming she even tracked Spencer down. Sophie had her doubts.

She’d tossed and turned all night, sleepless over the thought of being so close to Riley on the flight and on their trip. She was too attracted to him for it to be healthy, Sophie thought.

Athletes, she thought with frustration. She’d avoided dating them for years, leaving the bold, brash kind of guy for Annabelle, who’d always known how to handle them. Riley Nash had a string of women following him everywhere he went and unlike Annabelle, Sophie wouldn’t know how to compete.

As the middle sibling, she created her own sense of order and followed a path she herself dictated. She could attract a man’s attention and hold it, but she’d only do that for the right sort of man. A man she could understand and control. Accountants, executives, people who understood schedules and did the expected. Riley was the lone bullet in Russian roulette. She never knew when to expect him to hit or what would happen when he did.

She glanced at her watch once more. Just because she didn’t see him now didn’t mean he wasn’t here. They’d agreed to meet at the gate. Sophie passed through security quickly and easily. She had the routine down pat. She wore slip-on shoes, no belt or heavy jewelry that might beep when she passed through the metal detectors and slow her trip. Before she even neared the scanners she methodically pulled out her laptop and cell phone, then slipped off her jacket as well.

She settled into a chair by the gate an hour prior to takeoff just as the airlines always instructed. By the time they called for first-class preboarding, Riley still hadn’t arrived. Sophie’s stomach cramped.

Frustrated and annoyed by his lack of consideration, she gathered her things and settled into her seat on the plane. Telling herself she didn’t care that he’d stood her up, she pulled out her travel-size pillow and placed it behind her head, settling in for the two and a half hour flight.

Seconds before the cabin doors closed, Riley made his entrance. Oblivious to how late he was, he strode onto the plane. As if on cue, a female flight attendant ushered him to his seat as if he was a visiting dignitary. The rest of the women attendants then fawned over the handsome football star, asking for his autograph and fluffing his pillow and covering his legs with a blanket. Even the pilots took time out of the cockpit to meet him.

Riley Nash didn’t have to worry about following the rules other people lived by, and with each favor bestowed upon him, Sophie would bet he lost more of the manners and sense of courtesy others deserved. All he had to do was charm everyone around him and all was forgiven.

She couldn’t forget that easily. All this scene did was reinforce what Sophie already knew: a man like Riley flirted as easily as a candy man bestowed treats to children. All the times he’d sought Sophie out at the office, it had been to feed his ego, not because he had some kind of interest in her. And she admitted to herself now, that had been the little hope she’d held on to deep in her heart. That the great Riley Nash had some secret crush on her the same way she had on him.

Fat chance. His flirting with the flight attendants showed her that all the times he’d come on to her, it’d been an act. Just Riley Nash, football star, looking for more attention. Well, he wouldn’t receive any more special treatment from her, she decided, and after takeoff, Sophie buried herself in a book and outwardly ignored her traveling companion.

Inwardly, she was completely aware of him. Once again, it didn’t matter that her emotions were bruised or that her mind warned her to steer clear. Every feminine instinct she possessed was on high alert. Riley’s body was big and snug in the next seat and his arm constantly brushed against hers, disturbing her peace. More than once she glanced over to see if he’d noticed the sparks and heat she felt so strongly. Not a flicker of emotion showed in his expression. There was not a hint of a reaction to touching her, damn the man.

And she damned herself for wanting anything from him at all. She shut her book and closed her eyes but the simmering awareness remained, made more potent by his alluring cologne. She sighed and shifted in her seat, trying to get more comfortable.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” a female voice asked.

The flight attendant’s question was a welcome distraction. “Red wine, please,” she said.

“Another Scotch, thanks.” Riley winked at the woman who flushed pink.

“Be right back,” she promised, placing a hand on his shoulder and letting it linger before striding down the aisle.

“Oh, brother,” Sophie muttered, unable to control her reaction.

He glanced over. “What are the chances that this drink’ll take some of the starch out of your shorts?” he asked, his Southern accent coming through.

“Excuse me?”

He turned toward her, his arm leaning against hers, his amazing eyes studying her through thick lashes. “You’ve been sitting there like a prima donna from the minute I got on this flight. You haven’t said two words to me, including hello, and your pretty little nose is so high in the air I’m surprised you don’t have altitude sickness. Drop the attitude and we might have some fun on this trip.”

She opened her mouth then closed it again. She ought to be offended by his words, but she knew he had a point. She’d been a bitch from the get-go and not just because she was uptight about Spencer being gone.

She hated to admit it but she was hurt by the realization that she was nothing special to Riley Nash. And the sad fact was, if he did corner her and turn that potent sex appeal her way, she’d be a goner for sure.

She looked at his freshly shaven face and imagined how her hand would feel caressing his skin. “Do you really think my nose is cute?” she heard herself ask and almost cringed.

He chuckled, flashing one dimple in his cheek. “Cuter than your personality at the moment. Elizabeth with PMS is more pleasant than you’ve been and, trust me, that’s saying a lot.”

She swallowed. “Who’s Elizabeth?”

He paused a beat. Then another. Finally he said, “My thirteen-year-old daughter.”

Sophie breathed out a sigh, promising herself it wasn’t one of relief that he’d been referring to a daughter and not a girlfriend. She racked her brain in an attempt to remember what, if anything, she knew about Riley’s past and surprisingly she came up blank.

Like father like son, she thought. She didn’t know much about Spencer’s past, either.

Riley was her uncle’s client and her sexual nemesis and verbal sparring partner, but he was an enigma. An athlete she’d always opted to stay away from, mostly because he shattered the illusion of control she held on to. The illusion that allowed her to function without worrying about either the people she loved leaving her or the important things in her life falling apart.

“Here you go.” The flight attendant returned. She placed their drinks on their tables, pausing by Riley’s aisle seat. “Can I get you anything else?” The woman barely offered Sophie a glance and when it came to Riley, she wasn’t talking about food or drink.

“No thanks, but I’ll be sure and ring your bell if I think of anything,” Riley said in that sexy voice of his.

The flight attendant smiled and headed to the row behind them.

Sophie tried to relax and took a long sip of her red wine, savoring the flavor when suddenly the flight turned bumpy, the plane jostling in the air.

Riley laughed. “Isn’t that the way? As soon as they serve drinks, the turbulence starts.” He lifted his cup and took a large sip to lower the amount so that it wouldn’t slosh over the top.

Sophie did the same with her wine, more for fortification than need. Riley wore a short-sleeve T-shirt that showcased his muscular forearms and tanned skin. Obviously he’d been on vacation recently, she thought as she admired him all the way down to his gold Rolex watch and long, tanned, ringless fingers.

His dark lashes fringed his eyes, which looked more hazel than brown today. But he was the same man who easily tossed out sexual innuendo and caused her hormones to go wild. She just couldn’t reconcile this sexy, carefree man with one who had responsibilities as a parent.

Parents were warm and loving, soft and caring. At least those were the fuzzy memories Sophie had of her mother and father before the plane crash took them from her for good.

“So how’d you become a father?” she asked, steering her mind off the ever-painful topic.

“The way most people do.” He shot her an amused look. “You do know about the birds and the bees?” He nudged her elbow with his.

A heated flush burned her cheeks. “I meant I didn’t know you were a father.”

“Whew. I’d hate to think I needed to teach you the facts of life,” he said, still grinning. “Though I suppose that could be fun.”

This conversation was definitely getting out of hand. Her hands trembled and she placed her wine on the tray, still holding on to the cup because of the turbulence.

She bent over, searching for her MP3 player and headphones just as the plane bounced once more. She grabbed for her cup and missed, knocking over the lightweight plastic, causing the red liquid to spill. The wine traveled across the tray, onto her lap, and splattered on her white shirt.

“Damn!” She tried to blot the mess with paper napkins, but it wasn’t working. She needed the bathroom to clean up.

As if anticipating her next move, Riley stood so she could exit the row and head back to the restrooms. His coloring was ruddy as he tried without success not to laugh at her.

So far, this wasn’t a flight she wanted to remember and she just hoped it wasn’t an omen for their quest to find Spencer. Holding on to the seat tops to steady herself, she walked quickly down the aisle toward the lavatories. Thank God one of them was vacant and she let herself inside.

“Wait.”

At the sound of Riley’s voice, she paused, giving him time to place his foot inside, preventing her from closing the door.

She looked at his sexy face and her heart rate picked up speed. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Joining you.” A hint of a challenge tinged his voice and a teasing smile curved his lips.

“No!” She summoned outrage when she was really intrigued.

“Come on, sugar. I want to help you.” He leaned a broad arm against the small opening.

This wasn’t the first time she’d heard a hint of a Southern accent and she wondered where he was raised, but inquisition and conversation could come later.

She licked her too-dry lips. “Thanks but I can handle cleaning up all by myself.”

“So you clean and I’ll watch. It’ll give me a chance to talk to you in private.”

She panicked, not from fear but from the overwhelming desire to get up close and personal with this man who was everything she normally avoided.

Sophie dated men who were safe. Men who didn’t flirt with every woman they met. Men who weren’t demanding. Men who didn’t put their feet into her personal space and insist they get their way. Yet, though it galled her to admit it, there was something inherently arousing about his dominance.

“There’s no room in here.” She gestured to the small space behind her in a last feeble attempt to do the right thing.

The safe, expected thing.

He pushed the door open farther with his knee and wedged his big body inside, forcing her to step back. Then she heard a loud click as the lock slid into place and the dim light went on overhead ensuring the sign outside the door read Occupied.

They were completely alone and very, very close.

RILEY DIDN’T KNOW what had gotten into him. One minute he’d been ignoring Sophie and her pissy attitude and the next he was enjoying making her squirm. She couldn’t handle the sexual banter without blushing a hot shade of red, which only made him want to push her buttons even more.

She was cute when she was mad but when piqued by jealousy, like when she hadn’t been sure who Elizabeth was, Sophie was downright sexy. He’d followed her into the small bathroom to…what?

“I’m not joining the mile-high club with you.” She glared at him, but those wide blue eyes flashed with definite interest, contradicting her words.

“And here I thought you were already a member,” he said.

No way had she ever had sex anywhere but a bedroom. He’d bet his Super Bowl ring on it. Suddenly the thought of initiating her to sex in different places and positions held great appeal. He had a damn hard-on to prove it.

Shit.

This wasn’t the first time his impulsive behavior had gotten him into trouble. Like the time he’d been caught making out with the teaching assistant in the janitor’s room in college. The difference was, the T.A. had been older and willing.

Sophie, for all her N.Y.C. chic, was definitely a lady in every sense of the term. It was part of what drew him to her, Riley knew. The lure of someone different, someone special.

She deserved better than a quickie in the sky, no matter how much fun it might be. To distract himself, he reached over and pulled some paper towels from the holder, dampened them and began to blot her shirt where the wine had stained.

He gritted his teeth, determined to ignore her full breasts and pointed nipples. Perfectly rounded breasts and hardened tips just made for a man to suckle and tease. He tried to focus instead on her flat belly, where the liquid had concentrated.

She grabbed his wrist, stopping him. “Seriously, Riley. What are you doing in here?”

He groaned. Good question. One he was still trying to sort through himself. No way would he admit he’d just followed her on impulse. “Since we’re going to be spending time together, I thought we could come to an understanding.”

She shifted in an obvious attempt to get more comfortable in the cramped space, but her thighs came in direct contact with his and the flame burned hotter. Her sweet sugary scent, more refined and classy than most women’s, sent his already heightened senses soaring.

Sophie drew in a startled breath, an admission that the awareness between them definitely wasn’t one-sided. Yet she sighed in clear annoyance.

“Just what did I do to piss you off so badly?” he asked.

“You were late.” She said the word as if he’d committed a cardinal sin.

She turned toward the mirror and he followed her stare so she was unable to look there without seeing his shocked expression. “That’s it?” he asked. “I arrived a few minutes late and you’re holding it against me?”

“It was rude! We agreed to meet before the flight. You left me wondering if you were even going to make it in time.” Her voice quivered and she glanced the opposite way, this time toward the safety of the empty wall. “I told you routine gives me comfort.” She spoke the last words softly.

A quiet admission of weakness, Riley thought.

Aw, hell. He hadn’t meant to alarm her. He’d forgotten how seriously Sophie took life. Even with the dim lighting in the restroom, he could see her cheeks had turned pink and she’d sucked her lower lip into her mouth, embarrassed at admitting her neuroses aloud.

“Hey,” he said, softly. “I said I’d be here.”

“And I was supposed to take your word for it? The minutes ticked by and boarding had begun-”

“Were the cabin doors closed?”

She shook her head.

“Well then, there was still plenty of time for me to arrive.”

“I don’t work that way. I don’t think that way. I plan ahead. And right now I need to find Spencer before my whole place of business falls apart. I have Cambias sniffing around and no sign of Spencer. He said he’d be in by nine on Monday and he wasn’t. You said you’d meet me at the gate,” she said, the implication clear.

He’d let her down. The thought didn’t sit well with him. Not a normal reaction for a man who did his own thing on his own schedule and answered to no one.

Most people accepted his behavior.

Sophie wasn’t most people.

She folded her arms across her chest, as if that would provide a barrier between him and her emotions. Between them.

As if.

He placed a hand beneath her chin and turned her face toward him. Her skin was softer than anything he’d touched before and his gut churned with the sudden desire to kiss her lips and see if that pink pout felt as seductive as it looked. If her mouth tasted like the sweet heaven he imagined.

He shook his head to redirect his thoughts. He and Sophie had a mutual goal. To find his father and smooth over the mess created by the media. Not to create another one at thirty thousand feet.

To that end, they needed each other. “Look, I’m just not used to answering to anyone except Lizzie.”

Sophie blinked, probably as startled by his semi-apology as he was.

“That’s what you call your daughter, Elizabeth?” she said.

He nodded, the old familiar pride welling inside him. Lizzie was Riley’s whole world and he’d do right by her in ways his biological parent had never done by him. He’d be there for her and she’d know her daddy loved her.

“Lizzie’s thirteen going on eighteen. She has attitude up the wazoo and some discipline problems at school, but she’s smart and special and gorgeous. And I’m going to have to buy a shotgun to keep the hormonal idiots away,” he said, awed as always by the young lady his daughter was becoming.

Sophie laughed, a light, airy, more relaxed sound than he’d heard from her since boarding.

“I take it you have some firsthand experience with being one of those hormonal idiots?” she asked.

“You know what they say. Boys’ll be boys.”

She inclined her head. “So what do you suggest we do to make this arrangement work?” she asked, turning the conversation back to them.

He leaned against the counter, thinking about what would help them get along for the duration of the trip. “How about we begin by understanding each other a little more? I’ll start. Atkins is my long-lost father and though I have my reasons for needing to talk to him, I doubt he’ll be happy to see me.” Riley offered the difficult admission as a peace offering.

A flash of understanding flickered in her eyes along with the steely resolve he’d seen before. “I respect your privacy, but you hired me to help you. Besides, before I can bring you to Spencer, I’m going to need to know those reasons. We’re like-”

“Family. I know.” When used along with Spencer Atkins, the word family tasted sour in his mouth.

He paused, wondering how much more detail to reveal now and decided the lavatory wasn’t the place for long-winded explanations. “I’ll fill you in. Just not here.”

She nodded. “Fair enough. I suppose you’re looking for an admission of my own? A quid pro quo toward understanding? Well, fine,” she said before he could reply. “I’m a pro at handling other people’s crises, but not when everything around me is falling apart. If Spencer doesn’t turn up soon, my entire life’s going to crash and burn.” She blinked once, then blinked again.

He thought she was fighting tears, but she covered it so well he couldn’t be certain. He admired that strength.

All Riley knew for sure was that for Sophie routine provided comfort and Atkins’s disappearance had thrown her carefully structured life into disarray.

They had that in common, he thought. He’d been thrown for a loop, too. His sudden inexplicable desire to take care of her threw him. For the first time, other than Lizzie, it wasn’t all about him, and those feelings for Sophie messed with his carefree philosophy on life, and made him very, very nervous.

Still, he couldn’t stop the words that came next. “I’ll try harder not to screw up your schedule,” he said, hoping he could handle answering to someone, even on a short-term basis.

“Thanks.” She offered a smile and something inside him lightened with the knowledge that he’d eased her burden.

“And I’ll try not to be such an uptight pain in the ass,” she said, taking him by surprise.

He hadn’t expected her to know herself so well or to admit as much to him. Drawn by need and a compulsion he couldn’t explain, Riley reached out and pulled at the binding holding her bun in place. She gasped in surprise as strands of honey-colored hair fell around her face in waves, softening her features, making her appear infinitely more touchable.

More human.

More kissable.

She moistened her lips and he sucked in a sharp breath. Right now he was definitely one of those hormonal idiots they’d just discussed. He leaned in so they were almost cheek to cheek and he inhaled her fragrant scent.

Together they generated enough heat in the small space to steam the mirror, set off the smoke alarm and send the flight attendants barging in.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the captain has turned on the Fasten Seat Belt sign. Please take your seats as soon as possible.” The flight attendant’s voice broke into his thoughts.

He saw in her expression the moment she realized that she’d almost kissed Riley Nash at thirty thousand feet. Her eyes opened wide and she jerked away. Her knees came in contact with the toilet bowl and she sat on the closed seat with a thud.

He chuckled and held out his hand to help her up. “Tell you what. I’ll leave first and you can sneak out after me.”

“You’re a true gentleman, Nash.” Her voice held more than a hint of sarcasm, but her eyes held a wealth of gratitude.

He decided not to remind her that people had probably already seen him follow her into the bathroom or had likely already come to their own conclusions about what the two of them were doing in here. She had enough on her mind and Riley’s presence on this trip probably wasn’t helping her keep things in her life running smoothly.

But he couldn’t change the strength of their attraction nor, he admitted, did he want to.

CINDY THOUGHT she knew what frazzled meant. Coming from a family that consisted of herself and her father and the employees of his California seaside restaurant, she’d grown up harried and working practically from birth. She’d gone to UCLA and hadn’t moved East until her father had passed away last year. It had been tragic. An employee had stolen money from the register after hours and set a fire to cover his tracks. Frank James, “Jimmy” to his friends, had tried to save his restaurant and prized possessions before the firefighters arrived. He’d died of smoke inhalation inside the restaurant he’d adored.

After she’d survived that loss, Cindy thought she could handle anything. But The Hot Zone offices without the Jordan sisters, and Athletes Only without Spencer or Yank, was the equivalent of utter chaos. She and several others had been forced to work on a Saturday just to begin to deal with all that was going on and going wrong.

“And why did I agree to watch this dog?”

She’d just returned from a long walk with Noodle. One made longer by the dog’s desire to sniff, wander and not do business when told. She stepped off the elevator feeling out of sorts and almost out of options.

“Ms. James?”

“Yes?” Cindy turned to the temp who’d been working for the past couple of days.

Even if Raine, their normal receptionist, returned from her serious bout of the flu, the office could still use the manpower Nicki Fielding provided. Cindy had no doubt Sophie would agree.

“You have messages.” Nicki held out a stack of pink papers.

Cindy pushed the notes into her suit jacket pocket.

“Ms. Jordan called from Florida. I told her everything here was fine, which is true. Sort of. I mean the reporters are still hanging around,” Nicki whispered, gesturing to the group who’d perched themselves on the sofa, hoping for an interview from anyone here. “I just keep telling them ‘No Comment,’” she said, looking to Cindy for approval.

“You’re doing great.” She smiled at the young girl.

“I’m trying.” Her brown eyes were huge. “I don’t think Ms. Jordan thinks I’m that qualified.”

Cindy shook her head. “It’s just crisis time around here. We’ll all come through this fine. You’re being a huge help, I promise.”

The dog pulled on the leash and she groaned. “Go, you little pain in the-” Cindy leaned down, released the catch and the dog bolted, likely for the safety of Yank’s office, where Sophie said she could find the pooch if she went missing.

“If you need me, I’ll be in my office returning calls.” Cindy patted the papers in her bulging pocket and walked past the reporters, head held high, looking straight ahead before they could begin to toss out questions.

Cindy shut her door behind her, leaned against it and sighed. She couldn’t wait to hand this place back to Sophie. When she opened her eyes, she stared in shock. The most beautiful red roses sat on her desk.

“What the…?” She bent close and sniffed the glorious petals, breathing in their floral scent. As she pulled out the card, she realized the vase wasn’t a typical glass holder from a florist but etched Baccarat crystal.

“Red beauties for a redheaded beauty. Have dinner with me. Miguel.” Cindy read the card and shivered.

She’d been living in New York for a little over six months and although she’d made friends, she hadn’t dated anyone special. She hadn’t met anyone who seriously interested her. Until she’d laid eyes on Miguel Cambias. His dark eyes and naturally dark skin, so different from many of the surfers and actors she’d met in California, caused goose bumps to prickle up and down her arms.

But his business card had burned a hole in her pocket and she’d left it untouched in her desk drawer ever since. Loyalty was important to her. She’d learned it from her small band of “family” back home, a group related by love not blood.

She worked for The Hot Zone. She enjoyed her job and she appreciated all three Jordan sisters and the family like atmosphere they brought to the firm. For Cindy, this place was similar to her father’s tiny restaurant and she didn’t want to lose the inroads she’d made.

She slowly opened her desk drawer and stared at the business card tucked safely away. She also didn’t want to make a mistake and spend forever wondering what if. Fingering the business card, she turned it over and over in her hand. Sophie hadn’t asked her not to see Miguel. She’d just suggested Cindy be careful.

With those words in mind, Cindy picked up the phone. After all, what harm could come from one little dinner? she wondered.