Game For Anything

Everything Chance said was true enough. The kind of operations they’d worked on never appeared in the newspapers, and real names were never mentioned.

“And now you’ve decided to date her?” Tracker asked, silently cursing himself. He’d focused his time and the time of his staff checking out the men Sophie went out with even casually. If she’d gone out with Chance sooner, he’d have had a photo of the man standing in front of him, and he’d have known over a month ago that something was up.

Once again, Chance raised his hands, but this time he grinned. “Hey, I’m not her date tonight. I’m just her tag-along gay friend.”

“You’re not gay,” Tracker said.

Chance shrugged. “It’s part of my cover. Telling a woman you’re gay is the quickest way to lower barriers short of taking her to bed—and that’s a little complicated if she’s one of your prime suspects.”

For a moment, Tracker didn’t say a word. He had to get a grip. Anger wasn’t going to help—nor was fear. “Sophie’s not involved in smuggling anything.”

“I eliminated her as soon as I got to know her. She doesn’t have a dishonest bone in her body. And she loves that shop of hers too much to risk it by getting involved in something like this.” Chance’s eyes narrowed and grew colder. “But someone on this side is funneling the goods to the right person.”

“Do you suspect Noah Danforth, her assistant?” Lucas asked.

“It could be him,” Chance replied. “Or it could be any one of her regular customers. She makes them feel like family. All it would take was a word that they were looking for a particular piece, and she’d see that it was set aside. Noah would do the same.”

“So the only thing you really know is that anyone who gets close to the head guy ends up dead.” Lucas turned to Tracker. “I want her out of that shop until the investigation is over.”

“That won’t necessarily keep her safe,” Chance said quickly. “Whoever is behind this is very clever. His nickname is ‘Puppet Master’ because he stays in the background and just pulls the strings. We got close to him three months ago when he shipped the first of the coins. He used a small shop in Connecticut, and the owner was killed in a fire that destroyed his shop. If this guy gets even a hint that Sophie knows anything, she could still be in mortal danger. The only way to really keep her safe is to find out who’s behind this.”

Tracker paced to the French doors. The hell of it was Chance was making sense. From the sounds of it, the bastard behind the smuggling ring didn’t leave any loose ends that could be traced back to him.

“I’ll cancel my trip,” Lucas said.

“No.” Tracker turned to face him. “If you do, Sophie will know something is wrong. And so will Mac.”

“It should all be over in the next week,” Chance said. “Sophie has a shipment due in tomorrow, and the last of the three coins is supposed to be on it. Together, they’re worth more than they are apart. We’re pretty sure that the first coin went to the shop in Connecticut. The second one was picked up by the woman who was hit and killed after she left Sophie’s store. I’ve already offered to help Sophie unpack the delivery and arrange the pieces in the shop. Whoever is behind this will move quickly. All we have to do is trace the piece containing the coin to the buyer, and we’ll have our man.”

Through the glass of the French doors, Tracker’s eyes went unerringly to one couple on the dance floor. Sophie was dancing with John Landry. Silently, he cursed himself. He’d missed Sophie’s growing friendship with the gallery owner, Carter Mitchell. What had he overlooked in her relationship with John Landry?

“What about this Landry fellow?” Tracker asked. “Sophie met him on her last trip to England.”

“He’s clean. I checked him out myself.”

Tracker turned back to Lucas. “I’ll be there, too, when she unpacks the shipment.”

“How? You can’t do anything to alert her to what’s going on. The worst thing that could happen is for her to start acting strangely with Danforth or her customers,” Chance warned.

“I won’t alert her,” Tracker promised.

“She’s not an easy woman to fool,” Lucas said.

“I’ll figure something out,” Tracker said. “And she’ll never suspect a thing.” Then he turned back to Chance. “Right now I want you to fill me in on everything, including a list of your top suspects.”

3

SOPHIE HATED DUMPING anyone. She’d suffered enough rejection in her own life to know how much it hurt. But she ran the risk of hurting John Landry even more if she wasn’t honest with him. That’s what she’d been telling herself as she’d avoided him for the two hours since she’d left Mac’s bedroom. But even now, dancing with him, she was putting off the inevitable moment.

“Sophie?”

“Hmm?” It didn’t help one bit that she could feel Tracker’s gaze on the back of her neck. She hadn’t actually seen him since she and Mac had left the dance floor hours ago, but now the tension that she felt whenever he was near was back in full force. He was watching her dance with John Landry. The certainty of that gave her spirits a little lift, and she was very tempted to give him something to watch. But she couldn’t flirt with John Landry—or kiss him—and then dump him.

Besides, all she could think of was kissing Tracker again. She had to know if lightning could strike twice. Her mind drifted back to the time she’d spent with Mac in the bedroom. Those toys. Just thinking about using them with Tracker sent a wave of heat rushing through Sophie.

First she had to come up with a plan to get him within using distance. And she’d have to get him very close to use that black ribbon.

“Sophie?”

“Hmm?” She glanced up to find John Landry frowning down at her. Had he been talking to her?

“Sophie, your body is here dancing with me, but your mind is a million miles away.”

No, not a million. She figured it was about fifty yards to the French doors where Tracker was standing, watching her. And she wasn’t being fair to John.

“I want you to come with me to my hotel,” he murmured. “Leave your car here and I’ll drive you back to get it tomorrow.”

She drew in a deep breath. She’d insisted on bringing her own car because she’d known she wouldn’t be returning with John. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

“I’ll follow you, then. I want time with you. Alone.”

“John.” With a quick look around, she took his hand and led him off the dance floor toward the shelter of some trees, where they could have a little privacy. “I’m sorry, but I’m not going to spend time with you alone—the way you mean it. I…” For a moment she thought she saw a flash of anger in his eyes, but it was masked so quickly that she might have been mistaken.

“I don’t mean to rush you,” he said.

“It’s not that you’re rushing me,” she said. “I think you’ve been very patient, but I don’t think that I’ll change my mind with time. And I’m sorry if I led you on. You’re such a nice man, and I value you as a friend and a business colleague.” Sophie stopped then because she felt little prickles of awareness along her nerve endings. Tracker was near. He was listening to every word she said.

“Well,” John said, and then cleared his throat. “I won’t tell you that I didn’t hope for more. But I value your friendship also, enough so that I won’t jeopardize it by pushing you further than you want to go. But I do want to see you again, strictly for business. You’ve aroused my curiosity about that shipment you’re receiving tomorrow.”

Sophie smiled at him. “I’ll expect you at the shop bright and early. And I’ll put you to work unloading it.”

“Good.” He took her hands and squeezed them. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As he turned and walked away toward the front of the house, Sophie took one step after him, wanting to say something more.

“I wouldn’t,” said a low voice, so close that she jumped. “It’s always best to make a clean break.”

She turned to see Tracker separate himself from the shadow of the trees. “It’s rude to eavesdrop.”

He moved closer then, and it was all she could do not to take a quick step back at the overwhelming effect of his proximity.

“If you wanted your conversation to be private, you shouldn’t have had it in a garden. Besides, when you’re going to dump guys, it’s good to have someone close by. They think twice before they get violent.”

“John Landry is a very nice man. He would never get violent.” She thought of the flash of anger she’d seen in his eyes.

“Take it from me, he was pissed.” Tracker grinned at her. “You’re lucky he’s such a nice guy.”

Sophie narrowed her eyes. She didn’t like the way he’d said “nice” as if it meant wimp. “There’s nothing wrong with being nice.”