High Risk

by JLee Meyer

  Instead she reached inside the tent and pulled a flannel shirt out of her duffel, holding it in front of Kate. “Take off your bra and put this on. Hurry, you’re too cold.” She averted her eyes and Kate numbly let the bra drop and slipped into the shirt. Its softness and the subtle scent she suspected was Dasher’s told her it was a much-washed and probably much-loved favorite.

  As good as the shirt felt, the adrenaline surge from the run-in with the boar had left Kate shaking even harder. She observed more than felt Dasher gently remove the rest of her skintight version of LA outdoor clothing as she helped Kate navigate into the roomy sweatpants and warm socks.

  Dasher stripped out of her top and, clad only in her sports bra and jeans, searched inside the main part of the tent to retrieve a camp towel. She fussed with Kate’s hair, evidently trying to wring out as much moisture as she could. Kate allowed it, held captive by Dasher’s tight body, the defined muscles under the silky-looking exterior. She remembered the puppy tasting her skin and had the urge to do something similar. You must be losing your mind.

  Finally, Dasher half dragged her into the main portion of the tent and carefully stuffed her into a sleeping bag. She studied Dash as she checked the tent for leaks and fiddled with the bag, tucking here and there.

  Their eyes met briefly before Dasher crawled to her duffel and grabbed a pair of flannel shorts and wiggled out of her jeans, having to work hard to push the wet fabric off her long legs in the confined space. Dasher was sculpted and toned and perfect. Kate watched the concentration on her face and was struck by her own feelings of tenderness.

  She was warm enough now to throw back the top of the bag and help, but she didn’t. She couldn’t assist without touching Dasher. And once she touched Dash, she would be lost.

  A shiver ran through her as she saw, as clearly as if it had been projected on the big screen, that all of her work for the past five years was at risk. Joe had warned her to stay away from Dasher, so he must have known, too. He’d said that associating with Dash would destroy her career. Dasher was jealous of his success as an agent and was trying to poach her as a client. He also told her that Dasher was unscrupulous. But after five years of working with Joe, Kate suspected she knew who was unscrupulous, and it wasn’t Dasher Pate.

  Dash finally settled next to her, the two of them forced to share the sleeping bag. Kate closed her eyes and feigned sleep, something in which she was an expert. She longed to face Dasher, to tell her how brave and strong she was, to thank her for her kindness. To kiss her.

  She rolled to face the tent wall, feeling tears form in her eyes and terrified Dasher would see them. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, let her see her weakness. Most of all, she couldn’t let her see what others probably did. She cared for Dasher Pate, and nothing good could come of it.

  Chapter Seven

  Kate awoke to the sensation of being walked on and licked. She jerked her eyes open from a rather erotic dream to see the white cub from the day before, his pink tongue giving her nose a thorough cleaning. Not wanting to disturb his ablutions, she tried to look around for Dasher while holding still. Then she heard Dasher’s laughter outside and several other female voices. What the hell?

  At that moment the cub decided to chomp down on his newly cleaned catch, and Kate yelped as loud as she could without scaring her captor. She and the cub were having a stare-down when Dasher stuck her head in the tent and smiled disarmingly.

  “Good morning. We have visitors.”

  “So I see, and hear. I’m a mess.” For some reason she didn’t feel shy about looking a fright around Dasher, but strangers made her uneasy.

  “It’s okay. It’s the huntress and Luna and, ah, I see you and Squirt have already gotten reacquainted. Jock Reynolds and Denny Phelps arrived at about the same time she did. You look beautiful, come on out.” Her eyes confirmed her words and made Kate defy her instincts and decide to appear almost as disheveled as she was.

  “Do you at least have a brush I could run through my hair?” After all, there were limits.

  Dasher rummaged through her duffel and produced one that was obviously not intended for long hair, but it was that or nothing. After some concerted brushing that produced a lot of electricity, which had the pup jumping around her lap thinking it was great fun, she emerged to find all the women chatting amiably.

  Conversation stopped as they stared at her. Her courage faltered and she put Squirt down, thinking maybe she could slip back into the tent, claiming to have forgotten something.

  Denny said, “You were right, Dasher. She’s even more dazzling without makeup.”

  Kate glanced up to see that all the women were smiling in welcome. Dasher said that? She straightened up and Squirt immediately yawped to be held again, trying to climb her pant leg.

  They must have realized the clothes weren’t her own and that she and Dasher had slept together. Well, not slept together, but slept in the same tent. In the same sleeping bag. When she vaguely remembered tucking herself into the curve of Dasher’s body sometime during the night, her cheeks started to flame in earnest.

  The others evidently didn’t notice because they resumed their conversation, but Kate could still feel the heat from Dasher’s body when she’d slipped an arm over her waist and pulled her closer, as if they were made for each other. No wonder she was having an erotic dream when she woke up. If she were being honest, that dream involved a woman’s body, not a man’s. That had happened before. But this time, the body had a face, and the owner of that face was now chatting amiably three feet from her.

  “Okay, we’ll clean up the campsite and gather what we can find of Kate’s tent and head over to your place, Diana. I’m betting Kate would run me down to get to a hot shower. Is that right, Kate?” Her tease was light and friendly.

  “A hot shower? Yes, I’d drive over you and back up, if that’s what it took. Thank you, Diana. Were you able to haul that creature away?”

  Diana nodded, while Jock and Denny were silent but were probably curious. “I sent several of my employees over last night, or the forest creatures would have it finished by now. I came to invite you and your friends to the celebration. We’ll serve the boar and many other dishes, since a lot of the residents up here are vegetarian. Everyone’s glad to have that beast gone from terrorizing the livestock. They’d be happy to meet you.”

  After Diana said her good-byes and left, Jock and Denny started peppering Dasher and Kate with questions about the “creature.” Soon, they were all laughing and teasing Kate about screaming “pig” throughout the forest.

  As Kate watched the interactions, she started to relax and feel more comfortable with these two very tall women. They seemed so natural together. Laurel had told her that they’d known each other since they played college basketball on the same team. Jock had a sturdy build while Denny was thin and graceful. They definitely had that peaches-and-cream and café-au-lait thing going—really attractive. Were they a couple?

  She’d always clung to Laurel or Stefanie when she was around them, and now here she was, making her own friendship with them. She’d already filled her scary quota for the day.

  With some bravado she marched to a closed plastic box and secured the necessary items for her morning ablutions. Somehow in the dash back to the tent, she’d managed to snag the shovel and toilet paper. She had her priorities. She was a camper.

  *

  Michael was pouting in the car, refusing to help. Chaz determinedly jumped on the freaking jack they’d found in the back of the crappy rental car. No luck. It wouldn’t budge.

  Chaz had insisted on following Reynolds and Phelps when they left the hotel, sure they knew where Kate and that Pate woman had snuck off to. How had he and Michael missed them? They were only slightly buzzed the day before, but when they returned to their vigil at the hotel they saw Pate and Kate Hoffman drive past them. It was too late to run back to their rent-a-wreck. So much for Chaz’s attempts to save money.

  Chaz knew what most of the players in th
e hotel looked like by this time. He’d identified them over the past month while Kate had been visiting. When Denny and Jock claimed Jock’s truck at four in the morning, he followed. Now this.

  Michael had bitched the entire time. He was getting more vocal about this whole assignment. He had no idea how much potential money was involved. Well, Chaz had no such qualms. This was going to put them on the map. Michael just didn’t understand about finances.

  Now this freaking flat tire that he had no idea how to fix. A rumbling behind him on the curve signaled potential help. He prepared to try to wave the guy down but froze when he recognized Jock Reynolds’s truck. Holy crap!

  They pulled over and Jock stuck her head out the window. “Need any help?”

  Trying desperately to look friendly instead of guilty, Chaz stole a glance in the car at Michael and saw his eyes like saucers in surprise and, yes, guilt. “Yeah, the jack is worthless on this rental car. We’re stuck.”

  Jock had exited the truck and was studying the disabled vehicle. “Well, for one thing, you’re trying to use the jack on an incline. That’s pretty dangerous. Have you called a tow truck?”

  Chaz lied. “Dead cell-phone battery.” He shrugged and said, “When it rains, it pours, eh?”

  Pulling a phone from the case attached to her belt, Jock made the call. Chaz was at once relieved and irritated. He would have thought of that eventually. Denny Phelps stepped out of the truck, and the two of them looked like Amazons coming to the rescue. Although he envied the look, they dwarfed him and Michael, which made him uncomfortable.

  Denny conferred quietly with Jock and then made another call. After a brief conversation, during which Michael managed to find his balls and drag his butt out of the car, Denny extended her hand for them to shake. “Hey, I’m sure it’ll take a few hours to repair your car. Why don’t you come with us to a barbecue? I just asked and they’ve extended the invitation. We can take you to the garage afterward. Sound like a deal?”

  Oh my gawd, this is just too good. It was like Kate Hoffman was being dropped in their laps. “Sure, right, Michael?” He gave Michael a look that told him to just nod.

  Ignoring him like he usually did, Michael said, “We won’t know anyone. Are you sure? We don’t want to intrude.”

  Chaz held his breath, silently vowing to strangle Michael if he blew it for them.

  Denny smiled. “Oh, you might recognize a face or two. Come on, you’ll have fun.”

  She was so genuine that Chaz momentarily forgot he was on a job. He was almost in the backseat of the extended-cab truck before he remembered that they would need a camera. He was trying to come up with a plausible reason to return to the rental when Michael joined him in the backseat, two cases in his arms.

  “I don’t want to risk losing our stuff when they take the car.” He smiled sweetly and they just nodded, because the tow truck had arrived. Within a few minutes they were on their way, and Chaz elbowed Michael and winked at him. He certainly had his moments.

  *

  Kate didn’t want to waste time getting the camping site in order. Dasher scoured the area for any of their debris tossed around by the storm the night before and took down her own tent while Kate packed the Porsche SUV. It was surprisingly roomy and she loved making everything fit. Maybe she’d rethink her next car purchase. Dasher nodded approval before they set out for the offer of hot showers. Kate couldn’t wait.

  She read the directions aloud to Dasher and anticipated seeing some small ranchette with chickens in the yard and a tractor in the field. She was more than a little surprised when they arrived at a gated entrance with several fellows checking a list for their names. Diana’s last name was Tartaglia. Evidently in these parts that translated to “owns a bucketload of land.”

  As they drove in, Dasher asked, “Have you read the list of the properties we’re supposed to see? I think a Tartaglia parcel is among them. If not, I’d be surprised.”

  They traveled for three minutes before the house came into view. Rather, the hacienda, complete with tile roof and gorgeous grounds surrounded by fruit orchards. Kate would bet there were some olive and fig trees, too. The place was bustling.

  Dasher gave a low whistle. “Whoa. I guess the film industry isn’t the only way to make a buck. Come on, let’s see if we can find Diana, then dig our clothes out of the back of the car.”

  After asking one or two people, they located Diana directing traffic for those setting up the feast. The cooking pork smelled divine, and Kate went to look, just to make sure the boar was still dead and it really had happened. There the huge thing was, on a large spit, rotating as a man basted it. She shuddered.

  A warm hand on her shoulder told her Dasher had followed. “Don’t worry, the brute’s harmless now.”

  Kate reflexively held Dasher’s hand in place and put her cheek on top of it in thanks for the reassurance. She told herself to not nestle into Dash’s body, that it would be too much. Luckily Diana waved them over and they were preoccupied with her for a bit.

  At the door to her own suite she faced Dasher, not sure what to say. While they were by themselves it was easy to let her guard down and just enjoy being with Dash, but soon they would be among people who would only recognize her as a persona with whom they had very little in common. That façade was all she had to protect herself from strangers. Dasher had proved that she wasn’t a part of the façade. She could be trusted.

  “Well, I guess I’ll see you downstairs, less smelly than now. Hey, thanks for rescuing me yesterday and sharing your tent. That was nice.”

  The look of kind acceptance on Dasher’s face was too much for Kate, and she gently touched Dasher’s lips with her own, then fled to the safety of her room, quickly closing the door.

  *

  The party was well under way when Kate emerged from the house and strolled to the sprawling backyard of the estate. People were laughing and eating, evidently in a celebratory mood.

  Kate was back in her LA uniform—tight black jeans and expensive boots with a long-sleeved, V-neck, plum-colored spandex top. Her makeup was in place, as was her smile. She searched the crowd for a familiar face, her anxiety increasing until she saw Dasher and made eye contact. That smile made it possible to breathe until she registered the familiar sound of a camera’s shutter.

  She located it and saw several more, mostly from folks with either camera phones or small personal digital models. Two men standing close to Denny and Jock made her radar ping. One was taking photos rapid-fire with a very expensive Nikon. The other was smiling and ducking his head slightly. She even wondered if she’d seen them before.

  Diana was by her side in the next moment, with Dasher in tow. She announced to the group that these were the two that helped her capture the rogue boar, and the listeners all applauded. Someone shouted, “Thank you!” from the crowd, and good-natured laughter was widespread.

  After the announcement, a line of sorts formed, of the kind that Kate had seen before. She would probably be signing autographs soon. To her surprise the people wanted only to thank her and Dash personally. By the time they were through Kate felt like a superheroine, and Dash was standing quite tall herself. During that time the fellow with the Nikon kept taking shots.

  After a few minutes the other man appeared before her, next in line. He shook her hand lightly and bowed just a bit, never making eye contact. “You were very brave,” he said. “I probably would have fainted.”

  She smiled, immediately liking the shy Asian man. “I would have but I didn’t have time. I took one look at the tusks on that thing and just started running.”

  He bowed again and moved to shake Dasher’s hand. The next she saw of him he was by the photographer, speaking animatedly with him. The man shrugged and put the camera down. She was very glad to be dressed as she was but hoped those photos edited out Dasher, because Joe would have a fit. She was sure the two men were professionals and wondered where they’d come from.

  An hour later, after a wonderful meal of dis
hes that many of the locals had prepared, and only a taste of the boar, Denny came over and rescued Kate from several of the admiring teenagers who were there with their families.

  As they walked over to Diana, Jock, and Dasher, Kate asked, “What’s up?”

  “Do you ride horses?”

  “Yes. I really enjoy it. Why?”

  “Well, Dasher and Diana have gone over your list and discovered that Diana owns one of the pieces of property on it. She’s offered to show it to us, but the shortest way is by horse. Jock and I don’t ride, and I have no desire to learn unless it’s really necessary. Dasher said she could go with Diana, and we were wondering if you could, too. Two sets of eyes on this would be better than one.”

  Delighted to be away from the crowd and have another semi-private moment with Dasher, Kate immediately said yes. She even picked out her mount, a gorgeous buckskin mare, and saddled her while getting to know her. She loved talking to horses because they seemed so wise. By nature, they were discreet.

  Suddenly aware of being watched, she whirled to see Dasher, holding the reins of a huge black stallion. She smiled and said, “I see you and your horse are good friends. Spitfire and I haven’t quite gotten to a first-name basis yet.” She looked skeptically over her shoulder to the horse, who was pawing the ground and snorting.

  “Spitfire? Do you ride, Dash? What I mean is, he looks rather spirited. Where’s Diana?” Kate knew by looking at the horse that it needed an experienced rider.

  “Out front, saying good-bye to some of her guests. Denny and Jock plan to stay until we return, and I found out that they were the ones who brought those two guys with the cameras. Picked them up on the road when they had a flat tire. So that means they’ll be around, too.”

  Kate knew she was scowling when she said, “I’m guessing they’re paparazzi, Dash. What were they doing up here?”

  “My thoughts, too. But I don’t think they were around our site, because they don’t seem to have a clue about anything that involves camping. The smaller one, Michael, told me they came up early this morning. Maybe it was just coincidence.” Dasher was watching her, studying her reaction.