She Does Know Jack by Donna Michaels

They’re also pulling double duty as the escorts.”
    “I gathered.”
She nodded, not that he could see her. “So who’s the walking barn door?”
    Uncle Franco’s
chuckle echoed from the phone. “That would be Jack’s right hand man,
Rodriguez.”
    “Good to know.”
    “Did you get to
talk to Matthew?”
    “Yes.” She
nodded to her reflection. “We had a private talk, and we’re on the same page.”
    “How did your
meeting go with Jack? I know you don’t like deceiving him.”
    “I don’t, Uncle
Franco. I hate it.” Especially since they actually had a past, even though the
former Ranger was unaware. At least, he appeared not to recognize her. She
frowned, unclipping her hair. “But it seemed to go well.”
    Except when I
almost failed his test. She’d been so close to kissing him. So damn close. She
could almost taste the heat, feel the velvety glide of his tongue… Thank
goodness common sense had kicked in and overridden her hormones and the
memory of his hot, talented mouth.
    “That’s pretty
much what he told me a few minutes ago.”
    Her hands
stilled. “You talked to him?”
    “Yes. We discuss
our findings every night, so I had to question him about the new girl.”
    She licked her
suddenly dry lips. “What did he say about me?”
    “He said you
seemed all right for the moment, but he wants to feel you out further.”
    The clip dropped
from her fingers and clanked in the sink. “What?” Once upon a time he’d gotten
a very in-depth feel of her.
    “You know, talk
to you some more.”
    “I see.” She
closed her eyes, and ordered her pulse to slow down.
    “You might as
well get some sleep.”
    Her lids slowly
opened and she sighed. “I’ll find a way to search the girls' rooms tomorrow.”
    “Okay, just be careful,”
her uncle warned before he hung up.
    Brielle sneered
at her reflection. “No involvement with anyone on this show. None.” She pointed
a finger at the mirror. “Been there. Done that. Bad mistake. None,” she
repeated, then turned off the shower and re-hid her phone.
    Fifteen minutes
later, she fell asleep to the image of smiling blue eyes and a baseball cap.
     
    T he first full day at the mansion dawned
bright and sunny. Morning rays sliced through the gap in her drawn, taupe and
cream curtains, and spread a glowing line across Brielle’s coordinating
bedspread. She stretched and sent up a silent prayer that breakfast would keep
the contestants occupied long enough to allow her to investigate their rooms.
    She’d just
stepped out the shower and was towel-drying her hair when a knock sounded at
her door.
    “Coming,” she
called, slipping into her blue silk robe before opening the door.
    Carla leaned
against the doorframe, looking bored. Danni clutched an apron and bit her lip
to keep from grinning, while Mandy held something behind her back. A frying pan?
Brielle’s heartbeats quickened. The girl wasn’t stupid enough to attack her in
front of the others or on camera, was she? Camera? Adrenaline cooled as her
mind rejected this visit as an attack.
    “Okay, what
gives?” She glanced at the trio of cameramen behind the girls and tightened her
sash.
    “You do,” Carla
spoke up, thrusting a spatula at her. “New girl gets to cook breakfast today.”
    Brielle raised a
brow. “Is that right?”
    “Yep,” Danni and
Mandy agreed, handing her the apron and pan. “I can’t wait to see what you cook
up.”
    The threesome
ushered her down the stairs and into the kitchen without giving her a chance to
get dressed. When she turned to ask them what they’d like, a deserted kitchen
and swinging door met her gaze.
    “Okay, western
omelets it is.” She examined the contents of the massive stainless steel
refrigerator, its steady hum and the ticking wall clock the only sounds to keep
her company. “So much for my morning exploration.” She pulled out a green
pepper and onion, and began to chop, trying her best to ignore the cameraman
standing in the