Page 2 of Don't Game Me
He was here?Her gaze darted left to where the carousels increased in number. “I don’t need to be Jake’s date to be close to him. I’m the groom’s sister. I’ve known Jake for years.”
“We need you to beveryclose to him. More details will come later.”
“I can’t go as Jake’s date. He and I…” The line went dead.Don’t get along.
The phone slipped out of her hands. With a lunge, she caught it before she shattered yet another screen. Score on a great catch, but to prevent landing on her face, her toe jammed into her rollaboard.Ouch.
She shoved her phone into the front pouch of the carry-on and massaged her toe through her boot.
Very close to him?As in flirting or an actual hookup? She and the relationship-adverse, one-night-stand aficionado, Jake, stood worlds apart on their concept of romance. They were so far apart that they usually ended up in a vicious argument whenever in proximity, which happened several times a year since her parents had accepted Jake as part of the family six years ago when he and her brother started a video game company. Her older brothers might think of Jake as another brother, but not her.
Jake drove her batty to the point she usually ended up in a disagreement with him over trivialities. The fact he was hotter than a Carolina Reaper pepper meant she’d never label him a brother-type.
Pascal wanted her to seduce Jake? Sweat broke out on her back. She didn’t know how to do that. She might not be a twenty-six-year-old virgin, but her one boyfriend—yep, one and only—in undergrad hadn’t been a romance superstar. As a fellow engineer, they’d spent dates playing video games or writing apps. Bedroom antics had been tepid at best. She’d been happy when he got a job in Canada after they graduated—perfect excuse to break up. The whole relationship had done zip to hone her seduction skills.
Calm down.Pascal hadn’t said seduce Jake. He’d saidget close. As Jake’s wedding date. The way he’d said wedding date implied she do a hell of a lot more than witty banter and drunk dancing at the reception.
Her seduce a man like Jake who had regular liaisons with A-listers and supermodels? Impossible. Okay, maybe his preferred “dates” wasn’t the reason it’d be hopeless. As her brother’s best man and co-CEO, a huge neon sign flashed above him with the wordsoff limits.
Carousel six. Good Lord, the crowd around it was thick.
She could not be considering following Pascal’s order.
She was.
No choice. She could handle a kiss or two with someone as hot as Jake to avoid jail…or death.
A tall guy stood with his back to her gazing into the hoard of people crowded around the carousel.
Who knew forearms could be so sexy as the guy lifted to push his sunglasses up into his lightly gelled, dirty-blond hair. Theholy-crap-he’s-hotdidn’t stop at the arms. Those wide shoulders, toned body… This guy deserved a few extra seconds of appreciation even amid her life implosion.
An interwoven geometric design on his mid-forearm caught her eye. It looked like the emblem forZoneworld Warrior, the first über-successful game her brother’s company, NJ Legacy, launched. The game made them an international success in months. Perhaps he was a fellow gaming enthusiast.
Wait. She knew that particular tattoo. And those arms.
His head swiveled. Caught her staring.
She recognized the blue stare.
Jake Allen.
Target acquired. What a dolt not to recognize him right away.
“Uh, hey.” She managed a smile to hide the nausea and stress rolling through her. Jake would assume she got stood up the moment she mentioned her date no-showed, which was a sparkly platter of gift-wrapped retaliation material. After she’d ripped into him for bringing one of his dippy one-nighters to her parents’ Christmas Eve dinner this year, he’d be itching for payback.
Christmas. Eight months ago. The last time she’d been free of Pascal, GenShare, and illegal video gaming.
Her phone dinged with an incoming message from Pascal:Get close.
“Becca?”
She jumped and snapped, “What?”
“What’re you doing here?” His gaze dropped down her body, probably finding humor in her travel-rumpled sweater and jeans. Every time she faced Jake, he caught her at her worst, and right now she’d hit rock bottom. If she’d known he would be at the other end of the flight and that the gaming underworld she’d become an unwilling participant in was going to target him, she might’ve skipped the wedding altogether.
When Jake’s gaze returned to hers, there was no laughter. Something sensual lingered.
Her mind stalled out like a ’90s clunker refusing to turn over. Was it her imagination or might he be open to them as a date? A yes scared the hell out of her. She preferred his standard open hostility or disdain. Her fear was multifaceted, populated first by unwillingness to deceive him if she took part in Pascal’s plan, and second by the activation of a few off-limits fantasies starring Jake’s remarkable arms.
