A Perfect Fit Page 3

  “Why do I get the feeling that’s happened before?”

  “Because it has?”

  “Ever thought about getting new hubcaps?”

  “They’re the originals.” Against her better judgment, Brooke reverted to their earlier discussion. “What questions could you possibly be interested in asking me?” If they were personal, she vowed she wouldn’t be responsible for her actions. With Hugo’s help, she might produce a decent-sized pump knot on his conceited head.

  “Questions about the running of the factory. I might be able to help bring about some of those changes you were talking about.”

  “How?” She didn’t bother hiding her skepticism, and she was highly suspicious of his motives. He was slick...and handsome; two deadly combinations, as Dee could attest to.

  Brooke stiffened her spine at the reminder.

  “It’s my experience that companies avoid publicity, especially the bad kind.”

  He had a point, Brooke grudgingly conceded. They didn’t like bad publicity, but there was one major point he was overlooking. “And you think I’d risk my own job to help put the company in a bad light?”

  “I don’t have to reveal my sources.”

  He was quick, and he was also right. Although why she should consider trusting him...”Can I get that in writing?”

  “You have my word.”

  Brooke snorted, then laughed outright. “I don’t trust you any further than I could throw you.” Not that she could pick him up to throw him. Just the thought of putting her hands on him made her mouth go dry, and to her mortification, she realized it wasn’t because the idea repulsed her.

  “You could always hunt me down.” His gaze dropped to the outline of her weapon, then returned to her face.

  He was serious, Brooke thought. Shaking her head, she said, “Okay, but I go first.” His quick smile told her that he expected as much. She caught herself on the brink of smiling back, changing it to a fierce scowl in the nick of time. He was drop-dead gorgeous, but that didn’t change the fact that he wasn’t worth spitting on. “My first question is...do you intend to break up with your fiancée?”

  “It’s a possibility. Now it’s my turn. How well do you know the other supervisors at the factory?”

  “Very well. I—” Brooke caught herself before she turned her answer into two. He had made the rules. No sense in volunteering information he didn’t ask for. “Do you intend to marry Dee?”

  “I’d have to say that would be up to Dee, don’t you think?”

  “Is that a question?” Brooke countered.

  He shook his head. “Have you noticed anything unusual at the factory?”

  Brooke tucked her tongue in her cheek. “Well, the rate of pregnancies has decreased since Kyle began giving free condoms as a reward for exceptional production.”

  “That’s cheating.”

  “Is not. You asked, and I answered. And besides, it’s true.” She shifted in the seat, refusing to feel guilty. He had probably invented the word ‘cheating’! She wondered if he and Kyle Lotus could possibly be kin....”My turn. Are you really marrying this other woman for her money?”

  Without hesitation, he shook his head. “Do any of the supervisors feel they’re being underpaid?”

  But Brooke was still thinking about his answer. If he wasn’t marrying the other woman for her money...then that must mean he loved her. She didn’t like the answer, not at all, and it canceled her next question.

  “Brooke?”

  “Hm?”

  “Are you forfeiting your next turn?”

  “No!” She scrambled to remember his question. “We haven’t gotten a raise since Bradshaw bought the company, so I’d have to say that everyone feels underpaid, including me. Pay increases are on hold until Mr. Greed comes to inspect the place. I don’t think he’s in any hurry.” She clamped her lips shut, scowling at his triumphant look. Four answers! “Last one. Are you willing to talk to Dee?”

  “I’ll talk to her, but I think you’re forgetting something.”

  Brooke gestured for him to drive on. She might have been willing to talk because she wanted answers to her questions, but she still didn’t trust him. When they began to move again, she asked, “What did I forget?”

  “You went first. I get the last question.”

  She sighed and rolled her eyes. The man had apparently forgotten the weapon in her pocket. “Go ahead.”

  “Do you think Lotus would be willing to answer a few questions if I approached him?”

  Frowning at the road, Brooke took a moment to think. Finally, she slowly shook her head. “Kyle’s funny about those things. He likes to run the factory his way, and he doesn’t like anyone to question his authority. Sometimes I think he believes he owns the place.”

  “Hm.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Sounds like he takes his job very seriously.”

  “He does,” Brooke agreed. “We all do.” Kyle took his women seriously, too, at least until he grew bored and began to look for greener pastures. Not something she planned to share with Sure Shot. “By the way, we’re almost there.”

  “Which tells me absolutely nothing,” he said dryly.

  Brooke shrugged. “I guess it won’t hurt, since you can’t do anything about it now, unless you want to risk heat stroke walking back to town. We’re going to my father’s fishing cabin. It’s very primitive, and isolated, so we’ll have all the privacy we need to get this thing settled.”

  “We?”

  “You, me, and Dee. She’s waiting for us.” Brooke glanced at him to gauge his reaction, catching his faint frown. Her earlier anger returned. “What’s wrong, lover boy, won’t you be glad to see your old flame?”

  “Of course.” He paused before adding enigmatically, “But don’t count on her being glad to see me.”

  Chapter Three

  Brooke Welch .

  Alex couldn’t believe his luck.

  Not only was his gutsy kidnapper one of the most intriguing women he’d ever met, she was one of his supervisors.

  Luck...or design? Alex frowned. What were the odds of him stepping into an employee’s path an hour after arriving in town? True, Safe & Secure employed roughly three hundred of Quicksilver’s five thousand inhabitants.

  He wasn’t comfortable with the odds. Perhaps she didn’t have a sister waiting at the cabin. Maybe it was just a ruse to keep him calm until they arrived.

  The logical side of his brain scoffed at the idea of a kidnapping conspiracy in this small town, headed by a petite firecracker of a woman. What could they possibly do? Hold him until he agreed to keep his mouth shut? Yeah, right.

  Ludicrous, Alex decided, dismissing the possibility. Running into Brooke Welch was just a wild coincidence, as he’d first thought. Life was full of those, and only imaginative people like his secretary read more into them than was warranted.

  Besides, nobody but his imaginative secretary knew he was going to make a quick stop in Quicksilver.

  Using his excellent recall—something he’d inherited from his grandfather—he reviewed the information he’d read about Brooke Welch from the file in his briefcase: twenty-six years old, high school graduate with two years of college, no children...and single.

  Her file had not, of course, mentioned her sexy cap of strawberry blonde hair, her hot, whiskey-colored eyes, or her eye-catching legs. The entire package had knocked the breath from his lungs, and stunned his brain longer than he cared to admit.

  According to her file, Brooke had been employed at Safe & Secure for the past six years. Her intelligence, dedication, and leadership qualities had eventually landed her the job of supervisor. Alex slanted a quick glance at the indignant tilt of her chin, wondering if her petite size had anything to do with her aggressive attitude.

  Maybe she just hated men in general.

  Alex was very curious—and very eager, he noted with mild surprise—to find out. Since his divorce from April, he’d deliberately distanced h
imself from any woman who sparked more than his libido. In fact, his libido hadn’t been sparked in quite a while, either.

  Casting her covert glances as he navigated the Pinto along the rutted road, Alex was tempted to reveal his true identity before they reached the cabin. Once her sister saw him his cover would be blown anyway.

  She wouldn’t be happy about his silence, he mused, his lips twitching as he imagined her reaction. She also wouldn’t appreciate the way he’d manipulated her into answering his questions about the factory.

  “We’re here.”

  Alex looked through the dusty windshield, immediately impressed with the rustic scenery. The cabin sat on top of a hill, surrounded by pine, oak, and hickory trees. The building itself was small, perhaps three rooms, with a wraparound porch made of rough-hewn logs. It looked like something out of a brochure, Alex thought.

  “My father built it,” Brooke said, staring moodily at the cabin. “There’s a pier out back where he used to fish.” She blinked rapidly and thrust her chin out, as if she realized she’d let her guard down. Alex suspected it didn’t happen often. “Maybe you’ll stay long enough to see the view.”

  He doubted it. The moment she found out who she’d really kidnapped, she’d take him back to town. Or kill him. Truthfully, he said, “I guess that will be up to you.”

  The look she cast him sizzled and burned. “No, it will be up to you, lover boy.” She hiked the pocket of her jacket up and at him. “Now get out of the car.”

  Alex rolled down the window, lifted the outside latch, and stepped out of the car. He was more than glad to stretch after the cramped drive.

  “Wait here,” she commanded.

  He watched the sassy swing of her hips as she strode to the cabin and let herself in. Seconds later she was back, and she looked murderous. This was it, Alex thought. Her sister had been watching from the window, and Brooke now knew he wasn’t ‘lover boy.’

  “She’s not here. I can’t believe she’s not here. I don’t think she’s even been here!”

  It took a moment to sink in. When it did, Alex smiled. A reprieve. He’d gotten a reprieve, and he was going to take advantage of it. Not only did he want to know more about Brooke Welch personally, he wanted to know everything she knew about his factory. Small compensation for being kidnapped and forced into a death trap, he decided.

  “What the hell are you smiling about?” she demanded suspiciously. Her eyes widened, as if an idea suddenly occurred to her. An unpleasant idea. “If you think you’re going to get lucky, buster, you’d better think—”

  “Get lucky?”

  “With me, like you did with my sister. I’m not so gullible.”

  “Oh.” Alex swallowed a laugh. They were back to scum like you. And he thought they’d gotten past that point. He hooked his thumbs in his jean pockets, leaned against the dusty Pinto, and crossed his ankles. He was aiming for a ‘safe’ look.

  It didn’t work, because his eyes wouldn’t obey the commands from his brain. They slid over her, slowly, and with great appreciation.

  She moved before he could bring them under control, stomping back to the cabin. The door slammed shut with a bang. Seconds later, Alex heard the sound of shattering glass. Adrenaline flooded his bloodstream with a powerful rush of fear.

  He loped to the porch.

  Something shook the walls.

  He opened the door and rushed inside. The cabin was isolated, and a beautiful woman like Brooke would be a perfect target for someone lying in wait, as they must have been.

  The sound of her enraged voice stopped him cold. He turned, realizing it was coming from the closed door to his right.

  “I can’t believe she isn’t here! After the risk I took, and riding in the car with Mr. Testosterone—”

  Alex listened, stunned, as another object hit the wall and disintegrated. He couldn’t believe his ears.

  “I could go to jail for what I did!”

  True, but he was having too much fun to think about pressing charges. Of course, she didn’t know that. He inched closer and placed his hand on the doorknob.

  It was suddenly wrenched from his grasp, startling him.

  She stood in the doorway, panting from her exertion, her hair a wild, sexy tangle around her face.

  Alex inhaled sharply, resisting the urge to snatch a handful of that glorious hair and pull her forward, smash his mouth on hers, and taste her fire. God, until now he’d never been tempted to take what he wanted and ask permission later.

  Maybe he was a scum bag.

  “What do you want?” she panted.

  Her innocent question, breathless as it was, conjured devilish images of him baldly announcing his wants and her huskily agreeing.

  Forcing himself to step back before he did something he might regret, Alex said, “Are you okay?”

  “Do I look okay?”

  He wondered if she growled in bed, then decided that if he wanted to live to see the dawn, he’d better switch his line of thinking.

  The woman was in the grip of a tantrum, and they were alone.

  And she had a gun, not that he believed she would use it. Better safe than sorry...

  “You look...fine.” The fine part stuck in his throat, because what he really wanted to say was, “You look good enough to eat.”

  Somehow, he knew she wouldn’t appreciate his compliment.

  “Don’t bother lying,” she said, using that growling voice that drained the moisture from his mouth. “I know exactly what I look like after I...after I get mad.”

  Obviously their opinions differed greatly. “Do you get mad often?” He hadn’t meant to sound so hopeful, but luckily, she wasn’t paying attention.

  “Unfortunately, I do.” She grimaced and thrust her fingers through her tangled hair. “It’s one of my biggest flaws.”

  One of? Alex couldn’t find a single one, including her penchant for throwing things, when it brought results like hot, flashing eyes, a heaving chest, wildly mussed hair, and a growling voice that made him want to sink his teeth into something—namely her.

  He managed to say evenly, “Nothing wrong with losing your temper now and then. They say it’s healthy.”

  She gave a derisive snort. “Now and then might be okay. I lose mine at least twice a day, sometimes more.”

  Alex saw heaven looming on the horizon. “You do? I mean, you don’t say?”

  ****

  Dee wasn’t coming.

  Brooke might have gone back to town, but she didn’t want to leave him alone, and she couldn’t risk taking him with her. She wasn’t giving him up until the couple had a chance to talk. Call her stubborn—and she wouldn’t deny it—but she’d gone to too much trouble bringing him out here to just give up.

  Swallowing a frustrated oath, Brooke fished the Tums out of her purse and viciously chewed two of the fruit-flavored tablets. Since her tantrum, she’d retreated to the small bedroom, angry with herself for revealing even the smallest amount of personal information.

  And to a reporter, of all people! What had gotten into her? No doubt he found her penchant for throwing things as amusing as he found Dee’s pregnancy.

  When she found Dee, she was going to deliver a tongue-lashing that girl hadn’t heard since their parents died. Not only had she mucked up their plans by not showing, she’d forced Brooke to keep company with Mr. Cock-Sure.

  Alone, in an isolated cabin, with nothing more than a plastic model of a penis! Hugo would be no help if he decided to get feisty on her.

  The realization made Brooke break out into a sweat. Oh, she didn’t think he was dangerous...at least not physically dangerous.

  But the man definitely had a talent for creating physical tension. He was a flirt, a womanizer. Only this time he’d messed with the wrong sister. This time he’d pay for his crimes, if not with a ring and an ‘I do’ then with a sizeable child support check for the next eighteen years.

  Brooke hadn’t decided if she’d rather have him for a brother-in-law, or just a dista
nt father-of-her-nephew. Men like him couldn’t be trusted, and if he did decide to marry Dee, he’d probably wind up breaking her heart all over again.

  Fortified with renewed determination—and a liberal dose of heartburn medication—Brooke went in search of her prisoner.

  She found him lounging against her car, surveying his rustic surroundings as if he’d just discovered the perfect vacation spot. He’d been kidnapped, accused, and verbally assaulted, yet there was an odd serenity to his expression that made Brooke hesitate to interrupt. Ridiculous! she scoffed silently. The man was a user. His entire attitude was likely a scheme to get her to relax her guard.

  “See anything of interest?” she asked tautly, her fingers closing around the comfort of Hugo in her pocket. At the sound of her voice, he swung his gaze in her direction.

  His handsome mouth curved in a smile that held a hint of mischief—and a hell of a lot of healthy male appreciation. “Yes, I do.” And then his gaze grew heated, moved down, slowly, leisurely, leaving her in no doubt of his meaning.

  Brooke knew his game. Of course she did. But she felt as if she’d been sucker-punched, nonetheless. The man possessed more than his fair share of charisma, she admitted. A remarkable talent, but nothing she couldn’t handle. She knew him for the blackguard he was, thank God.

  “Have you given up on your sister?”

  Given up? Never. Not while she lived and breathed. “No, I haven’t. She’ll be here.” And why didn’t he address Dee by her name? Brooke felt her stomach clench with disgust. Was Dee so insignificant that he hardly recalled their affair?

  “Am I spoiling your evening plans?” she jeered.

  He shrugged and transferred his gaze to the sinking sun as it slid behind the trees. “I might be missed, but no, I don’t have any concrete plans this evening.”

  The fact that he seemed unaffected by her scorn goaded Brooke into snapping recklessly, “Good, because we’re not leaving until she shows, even if it takes all night.”

  His gaze swiveled back to hers, pinning her with heated interest. The toe-curling smile was gone, but humor still lurked. “You’re the boss.”