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The Dare Chapter One | page 1 | page 2 | page 3 | excerpts
If she’d had to bet money, she still would have placed it on the blond. But this was too important to merely trust in her luck. An exclusive interview with Jared Slade was her ticket to a permanent job on the staff of Celebs magazine. So she had to be sure. And she needed a picture for her editor. Edging her way out from behind the palm tree, she aimed the camera and said, “Jared Slade?” The blond man turned first, and she had three quick shots of him before someone behind her said, "Stop right there.” Whirling, she saw the fantasy man – Mr. Danger – striding toward her. He looked every inch the bodyguard now. In fact, the combination of sunglasses, black leather jacket and black jeans had her thinking for one giddy moment of the Terminator. Rory froze. Later, she would wonder if it was the sheer size of the man that intimidated her for a moment. Or perhaps it was the odd little punch to her system again. The only thing she was certain of was that all of his attention was totally focused on her. She could feel his purpose, feel him in every pore of her body. He was the Terminator personified. When he was still a few yards away, he held out his hand. “I’ll take that camera.” She clutched it close to her chest and debated for one more minute. Gibbs girls never ran. Her father had drummed that into her from the time she was a toddler. On the other hand, the Terminator was a lot bigger than she was, and she wasn’t about to give up her picture of Jared Slade. When he’d nearly reached her, she feinted to the right, then darted behind the palm tree. Once she’d cleared the branches, she raced for the lobby door. Hunter swore under his breath. By the time he skirted the damn potted palm, the little pixie had pushed her way through the front door. “Stay here,” he called over his shoulder to the two men who’d been at the registration desk. Then he ran toward the hotel entrance and made it out to the street just in time to see her turn the corner. By the time he reached it, she was nowhere in sight. She couldn’t have reached the next corner, so she had to be in one of the shops. Deliberately, he slowed his pace, allowing the other pedestrians on the street to flow past him. The first shop he passed had designer chocolates in the window. A quick glance inside told him that his quarry wasn’t there, and there was no obvious place to hide. The second shop had lingerie displayed in the window, and he spotted her moving quickly toward the back of the store with an armful of lace and satin in tow. Hunter glanced up at the name over the shop door and smiled slowly. This was his lucky day. Silken Fantasies was the very shop he’d come to DC to buy. Its location in the same block as Les Printemps was one of the reasons why he’d decided to stay at the small hotel. A quick glance at the tall, strikingly attractive woman behind the counter confirmed that she was the owner. At fifty, Irene Malinowitz was looking to retire so that she could play with her grandchildren. And Slade Enterprises was looking to turn Silken Fantasies into a very profitable chain. Slowly Hunter backed out of the flow of traffic. He had to hand it to Rory Gibbs. She had a good plan. All she had to do was hang out in one of the dressing rooms until whoever was chasing her gave up. Except he’d never given up in his life – even before the time that he’d become Jared Slade. Added to that, she’d had the bad luck to run into a shop where he knew the owner. When she’d disappeared into one of the dressing rooms at the back of the shop, he moved closer to the window and considered his options. He wanted to talk to Miss Rory Gibbs. He also wanted that camera, he reminded himself. The best way to convince her that she’d taken a picture of the real Jared Slade would be to destroy the film. Then he would ask her how she’d known that Jared Slade was going to be checking into Les Printemps. Very few people in his organization had known that. Denise Martin, his chief administrative assistant in his Dallas office and the two men he was traveling with – Michael Banks, his executive assistant, and Alex Santos, his accountant. Up until now, he’d trusted all three of them.
But for the last three months, someone had been causing problems for his company. There’d been an episode of stomach poisoning in his hotel in Atlanta and a fire that had caused some damage in a factory in upstate New York. He’d flown in to deal with each crisis personally. And both times he’d received a note – No matter what you do, soon the world will know who you are and what you’ve done. Someone was threatening to reveal who he used to be, and Ms. Rory Gibbs might very well know who the writer of those notes was. Taking his cell phone out, Hunter pressed in numbers. Little did she know it, but Ms. Rory Gibbs had just walked into a trap. |
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