Game for Anything

159 Pages·2003·0.77 MB·English

by  Summers Cara

“I want you to come with me,” Tracker said
He took Sophie’s hand, leading her away from the rest of the party guests. His
gaze never left hers as he slipped a card out of his pocket and gave it to her.
She glanced down at the card, recognizing it as the “quickie on demand” coupon
she’d given him earlier. “Here?” she croaked.
“And now. Those are the rules of the game as you explained them to me, right?”
“Tracker, I—”
“Are you having second thoughts about our deal?” he asked as he led her down a
hallway and opened the first door. It was a powder room, with barely enough
room for one person between the toilet and the sink. He led her inside, and
suddenly the term “close quarters” took on a whole new meaning.
“I’m collecting on that coupon, princess. Unless you want to back out?”
Sophie’s chin shot up. “I don’t back out of agreements.”
Tracker nodded, stepping back against the door. “Then I think you should take
off your panties….”
Dear Reader, Sophie Wainwright and Tracker McBride fascinated me from the
moment they appeared on the pages of my first Blaze novel—Intent To Seduce.
The rich “Princess” and the “Shadow” who had the challenging job of protecting
her struck sparks off each other even when they were separated by a continent.
So how could I not write their story?
The last person in the world that Sophie wants to be attracted to is Tracker
McBride. As chief of security for her brother’s business, he’s made it clear that
he thinks of her only as a job. For one whole year he’s kept his professional
distance, watching over her from afar. Sophie’s problem? She hasn’t forgotten
what it felt like to have Tracker’s hands on her—even briefly. How can she
forget when he touches her more and more intimately each night in her dreams?
She can’t even date other men without seeing Tracker, feeling Tracker. Sophie’s
solution? If she’s ever going to get her love life back to normal she has to get
Tracker McBride out of her dreams and into her bed for real. And to do that,
she’ll play any sensual game it takes!
I hope you enjoy watching these two very reluctant people play the riskiest game
of all. Let me know. You can write to me at P.O. Box 718, Fayetteville, NY
13066, or visit my Web site—www.carasummers.com.
Enjoy,
Cara Summers
Books by Cara Summers
HARLEQUIN BLAZE
38—INTENT TO SEDUCE
HARLEQUIN TEMPTATION
813—OTHERWISE ENGAGED
860—MOONSTRUCK IN MANHATTAN
900—SHORT, SWEET AND SEXY
GAME FOR ANYTHING
Cara Summers
To my editor Brenda Chin—writing coach, book doctor
and muse. Thanks for always being able to see what
I’m trying to do—and then making me go back and do it!
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
Prologue
“Y , Princess.”
OU’RE SAFE NOW
Sophie’s fear streamed away the moment she heard him. He would set her
free.
The cloth covering her eyes and mouth prevented her from seeing him, from
saying his name, but she recognized his voice, his touch. Just the barest brush of
his fingers along her throat made her skin burn and her blood heat.
In the three days since her kidnapping, she’d known that Tracker McBride
would come for her. She’d steeled herself against his anger for tricking him and
making him chase her across the country. But his hands were gentle, his voice
soothing.
“Don’t be afraid.”
He would touch her now—to make sure she was all right. The anticipation of
it made her tremble. The reality of it, the press of those long, lean fingers as they
moved over her shoulders and down the length of her arms, left every inch of her
skin quivering and then burning.
Her response was always like this—basic, primitive. He touched and she
wanted. Desire twisted into a hard knot, and her body began to move, lifting,
aching to get closer.
When he gripped her waist, heat, a searing flame, streamed through her.
Muscles deep inside of her clenched and her hips arched upward. More. But his
hands moved on, continuing their slow, thorough journey over her hips and
down her legs. Torturing her.
“I’ll have you free in a minute,” he said as he removed the blindfold and the
gag. “Don’t open your eyes right away.”
The moment her arms were untied, she wrapped them around him and held
him tight. Safe. Now he would free her from the terrible heat he’d built inside of
her. He had to. He stroked one hand down her hair, then she felt his fingers slip
beneath her chin and lift it.
“Please…” She wasn’t even sure it was her voice that had said the word. But
his mouth brushed against hers and his tongue moistened her lips.
“Now.” With a will of its own, her body melted, molding itself to every hard
plane and angle of his. It wasn’t enough. She wanted him right where that deep,
demanding ache tugged at her very center. Threading her fingers through his
hair, she arched against him. Soon…please.
Finally, when she thought she might die of the wanting, his mouth grew
harder, more insistent, and his hand moved to the inside of her thigh.
Yes. Almost. Need built razor sharp as she arched against him, urging him
on. The tension inside of her built, twisted, tightened. When his fingers finally
slipped into her, the climax moved through her at once, building higher and
higher until, deep inside of her, pleasure exploded.
It was the sound of her own voice crying out that shot Sophie out of the
dream. For a moment, she lay there, shuddering in the aftermath of the release
that had nearly shattered her. She was gripping the bed-clothes in her fists, sweat
was cooling on her skin and her breath was coming in short pants. Opening her
eyes, she saw that Chess, her cat, was peering down at her.
“I’m fine,” she murmured, releasing a fistful of sheet so that she could run
her hand over her large, plump guardian angel.
The cat snorted in disbelief.
Sophie sighed. Chess had been a gift from her brother, Lucas, when she’d
moved out of the family home into her living quarters over One of a Kind, the
antique and specialty store she ran in Georgetown. They’d been together for five
years now, and Chess’s main joy in life seemed to stem from making her be
honest with herself.
“All right. All right.” Sitting up, Sophie ran a hand through her hair. “I’m
not fine.” How could she be when the best sex—the only sex—she’d had in over
a year was occurring only in her dreams?
And the dream was being triggered by a man who annoyed the hell out of
her in real life. Tracker McBride, or as she called him, “The Shadow.” Two
years ago her brother had hired him to head up the security at Wainwright
Enterprises, but as far as Sophie could tell, Tracker’s mission statement read:
“Keep the spoiled, misfit sister from destroying Wainwright Enterprises.”
The inescapable fact that she’d come close to doing that twice now—by
hooking up with fortune hunters who were after the Wainwright money—
humiliated and infuriated her. Having her weakness and stupidity exposed by a
complete stranger had only added salt to the wound. Tracker McBride now knew
what everyone else in the family knew: she just wasn’t good enough to be a
Wainwright.
Tracker’s continued surveillance of her during the past year only confirmed
that her brother still didn’t trust her. Every time she went out at night to meet
friends, she could sense Tracker’s presence. At times, she was sure that she
could feel his gaze moving over her, and the sensation was so intense that he
might as well have been touching her. But he never came close enough for her to
spot him.
spot him.
Except in her dreams.
“Damn it.” Rising, she scooped Chess up from the bed and headed toward
the kitchen “I’ve got to get free of him.”
Chess snorted again.
“No, you don’t.” Settling the cat on the counter, she pointed an accusing
finger at him. “I’m speaking the truth. For the past year, I’ve been having
dreams about this phantom lover who never comes near me in real life. And as
long as I have him, I don’t want anyone else.”
Chess made no comment.
“It’s pathetic.” Taking a beer out of the refrigerator, she poured it into a
saucer and set it in front of him. Then she grabbed her vice of choice—cold
pizza.
“I certainly don’t want John Landry.” There. She’d said it out loud.
Chess rubbed against her arm.
“You think you’re a regular truth serum, don’t you?”
Chess returned to his beer.
Glancing down at the pizza, Sophie realized she’d lost her appetite. She’d
been dating John Landry for two weeks, and he was everything she should want
in a man—good-looking, sweet, attentive and rich enough so that Lucas
wouldn’t have to worry he was after the Wainwright money. He even shared her
passion for the antique business.
The problem was, two weeks of dating him had not freed her from her
dreams of Tracker. If tonight was any example, dating John had only intensified
her desire for The Shadow.
She put the pizza back in the refrigerator untouched.
“I’m going to have to dump John.”
Chess’s silence indicated his agreement.
“Rejection sucks.” She’d experienced enough of it from her parents that she
didn’t like doing it to anyone. But it wasn’t fair to keep dating John Landry.
Even now it was difficult for her to conjure up an image of him. The minute she
thought she’d captured his blond hair and lean, aristocratic face, the features
blurred into the more roughly hewn cheekbones and dark unruly hair of Tracker
McBride.
“Damn the man!” She had to stop thinking about him.
The moment Chess lapped up the last drop of beer, she scooped him up and
carried him to the couch. “Movie time.” With any luck she’d find an old classic
on a cable station that would distract her, then lull her into a dreamless sleep.
After two minutes of dedicated channel surfing, she located one of her