Caught on Camera

“But the pictures are blatantly sexual,” Belle sputtered in protest.

“No, they are blatantly a joke. Irritating, tacky and rude, but not criminal.” At least the police had believed that someone was sending the pictures. They’d been polite, a little surprised at some of the poses, and in one case complimented her on her dexterity. But the bottom line was there was nothing they could do for her. Except offer a grocery list of cautions and warnings, most of which required someone to hold her hand. Just in case.

The idea of a babysitter made Sierra shudder. She totally refused to even consider just in case.

“They’re going to do something though, right? I mean, they’ll keep an eye on you just to make sure you’re, you know, safe and all?”

Who knew keeping up a fake smile could be so much work? Just discussing this made Sierra want to scream. But she managed to keep her look cheerful and easygoing. “They wrote up a report. I’ll keep them apprised of any more pictures and they’ll stay on top of things.”

Belle’s low growl was a dangerous thing. It wouldn’t take much to send her off to the phone to call the cop shop and throw a fit. For a second, Sierra missed the good old days when Belle had backed off from any sort of confrontation.

“When’s dinner?” she asked in a blatant subject change. She was done giving those stupid pictures her attention and energy. She’d followed the rules. She’d reported the mess. Now it was time to move on with life. Or more importantly, on to fajitas.

Belle’s look was a combination of irritation and something Sierra couldn’t quite place. But her friend gave a short jerk of her shoulder, poured the sautéed vegetables on a platter and said, “In a couple minutes. I’m just waiting for Mitch and, um, something.”

The something became apparent sixty seconds later when Mitch walked in with a platter of barbecued ribs. Sierra’s stomach constricted with sudden nerves, but she didn’t know why. Then the scent hit her over the wafting smell of dinner. Earthy, male and totally sexual. Shoulders tight, she turned to watch the man following Mitch.

Her hottest fantasy and her biggest nightmare. The one guy guaranteed to push all her buttons and send every thought of self-preservation straight out of her head.

Temptation in a cowboy hat.

Well, hell, Sierra sighed.

Hadn’t her day been stressful enough already?

Chapter Two

REECE CARTER.

Long, lean and sexy.

Heat flashed in Sierra’s belly as she faced the only guy to scare the hell out of her.

Not because he was the sexiest man on Earth and made her want to strip him naked, then lick her way up his body. That she could deal with.

What scared her was that she was a savvy, strong and opinionated woman. But when she saw Reece, she instantly wanted to become sweet, timid and compliant.

So she spent all her time around him being a hard-ass bitch, just to prove she could.

Pathetic.

Her breath quickened as she took in the delicious width of his shoulders encased in a black T-shirt. She wanted to trace her palm over the fabric where it curved lovingly over his big, muscled biceps. She wanted to press her cheek to the hard lines of his torso and run her fingers down the slim, denimcovered hips. The man had a body like a swimmer, with the tightest ass she’d ever seen grace denim.

He made her mouth water.

He had ever since she’d seen him for the first time six years ago at Belle and Mitch’s first wedding rehearsal dinner and fallen into instant lust. Then he’d opened his mouth and they’d fallen into instant verbal foreplay. Nobody could turn her on with a few words like Reece could. Unfortunately, nobody could make her lose control with just a few words like he could, either. Because it hadn’t taken more than a half-dozen exchanges for her to realize he was too much of a threat to her. To her independence, to her self-control. That hadn’t stopped her from getting hot and wild with him on the dance floor, though.

Pitiful that she’d been saved from the biggest mistake of her life when her friend dumped Mitch at the altar. She’d used loyalty as her reason to turn down all of Reece’s advances after that. Not that there’d been too many. A few weeks of phone calls, one or two in-person date requests. Then poof, he went away. Just like she’d wanted.

A shame, really. He was so delicious to look at. His white Stetson cast a shadow over wavy black hair, midnight-blue eyes and a chiseled jaw. All-masculine hotness.

Their gazes met. In his eyes she saw both desire and assessment. The unspoken message was that he wanted her like hell, but he didn’t like it.

Sierra’s shoulders stiffened at the judgment. But that didn’t stop her body from going into instant lust mode. For one second, she wished the picture of her face pasted on the woman using the sex swing could be real if Reece was the guy she’d be swinging with.

Then he opened his mouth and, as usual, ruined everything.

“I hear you’re doing a little modeling on the side,” he teased in his slow, easy drawl.

Telling herself it was fury and not embarrassment she was feeling, Sierra swung around on the stool to glare at Belle. Unrepentant, her friend just shrugged and topped off her half-full margarita. “I thought we could ask Reece what he thought. You know, get a little advice. Maybe some help.”

“I don’t need help,” Sierra claimed, gritting her teeth as she stretched her mouth into a fake smile.

“If you need the police, you need help,” Reece said easily.

“I didn’t need the police,” Sierra returned precisely. She hated that whenever she was around Reece, she felt the need to argue. And win. The need to win was almost overwhelming. But their verbal sparring was like an addictive foreplay. Every time they went up against each other, she got turned on, insanely hot for him. No. Not smart. She needed to stay away from the arguing.

“If you wanted to do a sex pictorial you should have given me a call,” Reece said, patting her shoulder to let her know he was teasing. Sierra’s first reaction was to pull back so she couldn’t feel the heat of his hand on her bare skin. But she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. Even if the look in his eyes told her he knew.

“There is the one shot with a goat,” she returned, determined to hold her own. “It did remind me of you.”

“Horny?”

Sierra gave a wicked smile. “Knock-kneed.”

Belle gasped, then slapped her hand over her mouth when Sierra glared at her. Mitch, ever the gentleman, mumbled something about checking the barbecue and left.

Reece, though, didn’t bother to hide his amusement. His laugh bounced off the walls, his white teeth flashing.

God, did nothing get to the guy? It didn’t seem to matter what she said or did, he just came back flirting.

She wanted him to act indifferent. She could handle that. She hated his flirting. It ignited a deep, desperate need inside her to flirt back. But, no. He had to do the one thing that was hardest for her to resist. He was the most frustratingly sexy, irritatingly tempting man she’d ever known.

He worried her even more than the creepy stalker pictures.

“Cops wrote up a report?” He said it as if it were a question, but they all knew it was a statement. Reece was Mr. Security. He’d spent ten years in the army, and while Sierra would rather actually do that goat than admit it, the idea of him in his sexy Green Beret uniform had fueled more than one bunny-bout, a term she’d coined in honor of her rabbit-eared vibrator. Now he ran his own security firm.

So he obviously knew his stuff. Which was fine, except Sierra didn’t want him mixing his stuff with hers. But—she shot a quick glance at Belle’s concerned expression as she scooped black beans into a bowl—she might not get a choice. At least not if she didn’t want to worry her best friend.

Caught by the bonds of friendship, Sierra just shrugged and gave Reece a breezy look. “Sure, the police wrote a report. But that was just for form, you know? Poor taste and tacky sex fetishes aren’t a crime, as I’m sure you know.”

His blue eyes sparkled in wicked delight at her dig. Sierra’s lips twitched, but she kept her expression smooth. No point letting him know she was tickled that he’d understood her humor.

“They asked you for a list of suspects?”

“Of course.” At his pointed look she rolled her eyes and shrugged. “I have no suspects. If I had a clue who was doing this, I’d go beat them over the head with their own computer.”

“Ex-boyfriends, old lovers, new lovers. Guys you’ve jilted, guys you’ve scorned, guys you’ve shot down?”

“Oh yeah, the list was pages long,” Sierra said with a wideeyed expression as she pursed her lips in a way she knew would get his attention. “I was with four different guys last week, but since the Galaxy soccer team is on the road, they figured it wasn’t them.”

Mitch, who’d just returned, gave a snort of laughter. Reece just shot her a long, considering look. There was something latently violent and predatory in his eyes that made her breath catch. She refused to squirm, though.

Sierra shrugged at Belle’s hiss. So what if it was all bullshit. She wasn’t going to discuss her sex life with Reece. Duh. She obviously wasn’t doing a soccer team. And she wasn’t about to admit she hadn’t had sex or anything approaching a relationship since she’d slipped up and given in to lust two months ago. Belle had been handling the grand opening of Mitch’s resort—their biggest job to date. It had quickly gone from a standard event to a sexfest of planning fun, with a little twist of sabotage. Nobody could say Eventfully Yours didn’t go all-out for their clients. In her attempt to distract Reece from discovering Belle sneaking around Mitch’s office, Sierra had lost control of her argument with him and they’d ended up doing the nasty.

Just another reason to stay away from him. She never triumphed in their little verbal skirmishes. Even when she won.

The memory of their against-the-wall encounter made her squirm, her silk panties growing uncomfortably warm. Needing to cool off, she grabbed her margarita and drained the deliciously icy concoction in one gulp.

Letting the sugar-laden tequila calm her, she met Reece’s eyes with a raised-brow look of her own.

No. He didn’t need any encouragement. After all, she knew firsthand how little stroking his…ego required to expand to mammoth proportions.

REECE’S FINGERS gripped the neck of his beer bottle so hard it should have shattered. Even though he knew she was giving him a bad time, the idea of any guy’s hands on Sierra’s body made him crazy. Any guy but himself, of course.

Although from the way the sexy little brunette was glaring daggers at him, he didn’t figure he’d be putting his hands on her anytime soon.

He’d never met a woman who challenged him like Sierra did. What baffled him was that she was totally not his type. Reece liked his ladies sweet and biddable. Before ending his disastrous eighteen-month marriage three years ago, he’d pictured himself settling down someday with a sexy little gal who wanted nothing more than to make his life easy, his bed hot and his future kids well-behaved. If that made him an old-fashioned jerk, he was fine with it. He wasn’t out to please the world.

He’d spent most of his service years in combat and saw no reason to bring it into his personal life. Or more specifically, his sex life. And yet, Sierra Donovan was the most combative, argumentative, independent woman he’d ever met. And he couldn’t get enough of her.

One too many hits to the head, he figured. And he’d get over it, just as soon as he got her out of his system. But he’d come to realize that to do that, he’d have to get her into his bed to work through all the wild fantasies he had.

She was proving a mite uncooperative on that front.

Of course, uncooperative seemed to be Sierra’s M.O.

“You gave the cops all these men’s names?” he asked, his words featherlight. No point in letting on that she’d got to him. She’d just poke harder if she knew.

“The cops have a full roster of my sexual encounters,” she returned with a roll of those pretty blue eyes. “They also have a list of all the people I’ve pissed off in the last few months.”

Her look made it crystal clear he was on both lists.

Reece grinned. Good, he liked being front and center in her mind.

“I’m guessing they didn’t plan to follow up,” he commented when she was silent.

“Well, they did praise me on my dexterity. And one of them complimented my ability to type with my mouth that full. But like me, they weren’t overly impressed with the list itself.”

She shoots. She scores.

Reece ground his teeth to hold back his growl of fury. Her offhand comment about the explicit nature of the pictures sparked an angry flame in his gut. He didn’t like anger; things always got ugly when he lost his temper. But the implications, the message those pictures were sending, infuriated him.

“The cops have the pictures?” he asked in a matter-of-fact tone.

“They made copies,” Sierra admitted with a shrug as she took her empty margarita glass to the sink. Belle handed her a glass of iced tea, the move so easy and natural, he could tell this was their norm.

“But you still have the originals?”

“Why?” she asked, lifting one of the overflowing platters of vegetables from the counter. “Were you looking for something to replace your Hustler collection?”

“Well, you have to admit, Hustler doesn’t feature farm animals.”

“And you’re such a country boy, you miss that?”

“There ya go,” he agreed easily, not bothering to hide his amusement. Taking his cue from her and Belle, who was carrying the bowl of black beans in to dinner, he grabbed the last dish and gestured to the ladies to precede him.

Belle’s gaze was shooting back and forth between him and Sierra as if she were following a tennis match. Mitch, though, had his serious CEO look on, which told Reece his cousin was worried. About the stalker pictures or the potential disaster if Sierra cut loose with that temper lurking in her eyes, Reece wasn’t sure.

But Sierra didn’t say anything. Instead she shot him an unreadable look as she headed toward the dining room.

Was she keeping their hot little encounter a secret from her best friend? Maybe. It’d been two months since they’d had wild closet sex at Mitch’s resort and she’d been trying to pretend he didn’t exist ever since.

“Let’s eat,” Belle suggested, obviously trying to break the tension as they all took their seats. “Maybe you can give us some security advice over dinner? Nothing major, just a few ideas on what we can do to deal with this.”

From her sigh and the look she shot him, he figured Sierra thought he was a bigger problem than any kinky pictures.

Reece took off his hat, shoved his hand through his hair and made a mental note to get it cut soon. He tossed the hat onto the oak banquette behind him, then took his seat. Belle passed the delicious-smelling platter of fajita fixings to him with a smile. The little blonde was a sweetheart. Perfect for Mitch. Reece hadn’t been sure when they’d hooked up again, but now he was. Too bad she’d done the altar dash six years ago, but apparently she and Mitch had both needed time to grow a little.

He sat opposite Sierra and considered the intense brunette. Had she ever been young? When they’d met for the first time, she’d been just as confident, just as cynical and just as sexy as she was now.

Well, he considered, letting his gaze travel over the smooth lines of her bare shoulders and sleek throat, maybe not quite as sexy then. But she definitely had the air of a woman who’d always had her shit together and never struggled with self-esteem issues. He tried to imagine Sierra as a kid or a teenager, but couldn’t. Even under an onslaught of dirty pictures, she just didn’t come off as vulnerable.

In other words, she was everything his ex-wife had wished to be but never quite pulled off. And Shawna, his classy and ambitious ex, was everything he’d thought he wanted, until he’d realized what he wanted was Sierra, and his ex was just a poor substitute. That flash of insight had come right about the time Shawna had maxed out his credit cards, sold his car and filed for divorce.

“So,” Sierra said as soon as everyone dished up their meal, “why exactly are you here, Reece?”

“The pleasure of your company isn’t reason enough?” He piled more spicy salsa on his meat-filled tortilla, hoping nobody would comment if he ignored the vegetables. Belle had that same look in her eye that his grandma got, the kind that said she didn’t tolerate slacking when it came to balancing the food groups.

“Belle knows how much I enjoy your company,” Sierra shot back over her veggie-filled plate, “yet she invited you to dinner anyway.”

Reece tipped his head in acknowledgment of the verbal dig. Usually Sierra was smoother. She must be a lot more upset over the picture deal than he’d thought.

And have a lot less respect for his skill than he’d realized. He frowned at the thought. He’d never set much store in other people’s opinions, so he couldn’t say why that idea bothered him so much. Yet it did.

“I’m guessing the police told you to start keeping the envelopes?” he asked in an even tone as he passed the fajita platter to Mitch. “That if you do open them, to wear gloves so you don’t contaminate the evidence. Maybe to take a few personal precautions, make a list of any more names that occur to you. Print up a list of your competitors, note which ones you’ve outbid for jobs recently. That kind of thing.”

Her blue eyes got harder with each sentence. He didn’t bother grinning. He just took a big bite of the fajita and waited.

Again, she surprised him. After a quick glance at Belle, Sierra just shrugged and took a vicious bite of her own fajita. Watching her assault the rolled-up tortilla added another image to his dossier of Sierra-inspired sex fantasies.

“Maybe I should step aside for a while,” she finally said. For the first time, he saw a hint of fear and worry lining her brow. “If I’m going to jeopardize business, I could work from home. Focus more behind the scenes than out front, you know?”

“Are you bailing on me?” Belle asked.

“No,” Sierra snapped.

Reece sat back in his chair and watched her pull herself together. It was fascinating. For a second, her eyes had flared with terror; then they went blank just before she took a breath and closed them. He figured he was the only one at the table who noted her hands were shaking. She didn’t even realize it, since he knew she’d have hidden them if she did. After a couple seconds and a quick exchange between Mitch and Belle, who ignored her fiancé’s admonishment that she try not to overreact, Sierra opened her eyes and shook her head.

“Look, sweetie,” she said, addressing Belle, “I’m not bailing. But I don’t want to cause problems, either. I just thought maybe if I stepped back, stayed in the background for a while, it might help. That’s all. I don’t want him ruining what we’ve built.”

“So you’re sure it’s a him?” Reece interrupted.

“Sierra figures the photo-happy creep is male because all the pictures feature big boobs,” Belle explained with an irritated sniff, shoving her hair off her face as if it were interfering with her ability to wage a winning argument.

Reece bit back a snort of laughter and met Mitch’s eyes. His cousin just shrugged and said, “Can’t say Belle’s not direct.”

“She must take tips from Sierra.”

The men exchanged amused looks. Belle’s lips quirked, but Sierra just rolled her eyes. “Oh please, like you didn’t already think it was a guy?”

“The likelihood the stalker is male is high,” Reece agreed, the laughter gone from his voice. “If it were a woman, the pictures would be different.”

Sierra’s derision fell away. A tiny line creased her brow and he could tell she didn’t want to ask, but couldn’t help herself. “How so?”

“In a man, you’ll see evidence of sexual fantasy, possibly of worship or even signs he wished he could be in the picture, too. In a woman, there would be some element of vindictiveness. Jealousy, catty chick stuff.” Agreement flashed in Sierra’s eyes, but she didn’t do more than tilt her head. He continued anyway. “A woman would have taken the photo editing a little further. You know, made you fat or ugly.”

He waited for the explosion, but Sierra only furrowed her brow and gave a little nod of agreement. Reece frowned.

He didn’t know which shocked him more—the fact that she’d agreed with something he said, or that she hadn’t been pissy about his suggestion she could look bad. In his experience, women didn’t like it pointed out that they could ever be less than beautiful. At least, his ex had hated it.

“Well, as fascinating as perverted pictures of me might be, fat or not, I’d much rather hear how the resort is doing. Mitch? What’s new in the lives of the decadent?” Sierra’s words were smooth and easy, her subject change gracious but resolute. Talk shifted to the luxurious resort where Belle and Mitch had reunited—a playground for the rich and famous that had launched a month and a half ago.

She was done with the stalker talk. Fine with Reece, he was more an action man anyway. As the topic turned to his cousin’s resort, he watched Sierra relax into an easy banter of social chitchat.

It wasn’t until they’d reached the end of the meal that he realized how skilled she was at the art of meaningless party chatter. She’d talked over and around him, but Sierra never talked directly to him. Oh, she was polite and gracious. The perfect dinner companion. But he could have been a cardboard cutout for all the real attention she gave him.

Reece frowned at his twice-emptied plate, not sure if he was more irritated at the realization that she’d basically ignored him or at how much it bothered him. A patient man, he stubbornly bided his time. After all, he’d been doing it for six years now, give or take a marriage and a brief, mind-blowing encounter. He was good at waiting. While Mitch and Belle were in the kitchen giggling like lovebirds and getting dessert, Sierra slipped out of the dining room. He followed.

“Running away?” he asked as he sneaked up behind her in the foyer.

In a blur of motion, Sierra yelped, spun around to face him and threw her purse with astonishing strength right at his face.

Lightning fast, Reece grabbed the leather missile and lowered it to his side. He raised a brow at the woman in front of him. His irritation at being attracted to her couldn’t dim his appreciation for what her panting breaths did to her luscious breasts.

Her black silk tank, so sedate and ladylike at dinner, grew tighter with every inhalation. He could just make out the lacy fabric of her bra beneath. And, his body realized with instant hardening appreciation, the outline of her nipples.

Mouth going dry at the sight, Reece craved to taste those straining peaks through the lace. Despite their hot and crazy encounter in the closet at Mitch’s resort, Reece had never actually seen Sierra naked. His brain stuttered as he imagined the glorious sight. He’d explored every delicious inch of her body and devoted many hours to dreaming about how good she’d felt.

But seeing her naked? Nope. And from the irritated look on her face, those stalker shots, computer-generated abominations that they were bound to be, were the closest he was going to get.

“Is this an invitation to go with you?” he asked, reining in his fantasies and handing her the black leather bag.

“I’m sorry I threw it,” she murmured. “You startled me. I guess I’m a little edgier than I thought.”

Reece glanced at the door. He remembered her earlier offer to hide. “Edgy enough to run off?”

“I wasn’t going anywhere,” she said quickly. “I was checking my messages.” Interesting that she’d instantly honed in on his suspicion. “Is this how you handle security for your clients? By sneaking up and hounding them?”