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Sophie drew in a startled breath, an admission that the awareness between them definitely wasn’t one-sided. Yet she sighed in clear annoyance.

“Just what did I do to piss you off so badly?” he asked.

“You were
late.
” She said the word as if he’d committed a cardinal sin.

She turned toward the mirror and he followed her stare so she was unable to look there without seeing his shocked expression. “That’s it?” he asked. “I arrived a few minutes late and you’re holding it against me?”

“It was rude! We agreed to meet before the flight. You left me wondering if you were even going to make it in time.” Her voice quivered and she glanced the opposite way, this time toward the safety of the empty wall. “I told you routine gives me comfort.” She spoke the last words softly.

A quiet admission of weakness, Riley thought.

Aw, hell. He hadn’t meant to alarm her. He’d forgotten how seriously Sophie took life. Even with the dim lighting in the restroom, he could see her cheeks had turned pink and she’d sucked her lower lip into her mouth, embarrassed at admitting her neuroses aloud.

“Hey,” he said, softly. “I said I’d be here.”

“And I was supposed to take your word for it? The minutes ticked by and boarding had begun—”

“Were the cabin doors closed?”

She shook her head.

“Well then, there was still plenty of time for me to arrive.”

“I don’t work that way. I don’t think that way. I plan ahead. And right now I need to find Spencer before my whole place of business falls apart. I have Cambias sniffing around and no sign of Spencer. He said he’d be in by nine on Monday and he wasn’t. You said you’d meet me at the gate,” she said, the implication clear.

He’d let her down. The thought didn’t sit well with him. Not a normal reaction for a man who did his own thing on his own schedule and answered to no one.

Most people accepted his behavior.

Sophie wasn’t most people.

She folded her arms across her chest, as if that would provide a barrier between him and her emotions. Between them.

As if.

He placed a hand beneath her chin and turned her face toward him. Her skin was softer than anything he’d touched before and his gut churned with the sudden desire to kiss her lips and see if that pink pout felt as seductive as it looked. If her mouth tasted like the sweet heaven he imagined.

He shook his head to redirect his thoughts. He and Sophie had a mutual goal. To find his father and smooth over the mess created by the media. Not to create another one at thirty thousand feet.

To that end, they needed each other. “Look, I’m just not used to answering to anyone except Lizzie.”

Sophie blinked, probably as startled by his semi-apology as he was.

“That’s what you call your daughter, Elizabeth?” she said.

He nodded, the old familiar pride welling inside him. Lizzie was Riley’s whole world and he’d do right by her in ways his biological parent had never done by him. He’d be there for her and she’d know her daddy loved her.

“Lizzie’s thirteen going on eighteen. She has attitude up the wazoo and some discipline problems at school, but she’s smart and special and gorgeous. And I’m going to have to buy a shotgun to keep the hormonal idiots away,” he said, awed as always by the young lady his daughter was becoming.

Sophie laughed, a light, airy, more relaxed sound than he’d heard from her since boarding.

“I take it you have some firsthand experience with being one of those hormonal idiots?” she asked.

“You know what they say. Boys’ll be boys.”

She inclined her head. “So what do you suggest we do to make this arrangement work?” she asked, turning the conversation back to them.

He leaned against the counter, thinking about what would help them get along for the duration of the trip. “How about we begin by understanding each other a little more? I’ll start. Atkins is my long-lost father and though I have my reasons for needing to talk to him, I doubt he’ll be happy to see me.” Riley offered the difficult admission as a peace offering.

A flash of understanding flickered in her eyes along with the steely resolve he’d seen before. “I respect your privacy, but you hired me to help you. Besides, before I can bring you to Spencer, I’m going to need to know those reasons. We’re like—”

“Family. I know.” When used along with Spencer Atkins, the word
family
tasted sour in his mouth.

He paused, wondering how much more detail to reveal now and decided the lavatory wasn’t the place for long-winded explanations. “I’ll fill you in. Just not here.”

She nodded. “Fair enough. I suppose you’re looking for an admission of my own? A quid pro quo toward understanding? Well, fine,” she said before he could reply. “I’m a pro at handling other people’s crises, but not when everything around me is falling apart. If Spencer doesn’t turn up soon, my entire life’s going to crash and burn.” She blinked once, then blinked again.

He thought she was fighting tears, but she covered it so well he couldn’t be certain. He admired that strength.

All Riley knew for sure was that for Sophie routine provided comfort and Atkins’s disappearance had thrown her carefully structured life into disarray.

They had that in common, he thought. He’d been thrown for a loop, too. His sudden inexplicable desire to take care of her threw him. For the first time, other than Lizzie, it wasn’t all about him, and those feelings for Sophie messed with his carefree philosophy on life, and made him very, very nervous.

Still, he couldn’t stop the words that came next. “I’ll try harder not to screw up your schedule,” he said, hoping he could handle answering to someone, even on a short-term basis.

“Thanks.” She offered a smile and something inside him lightened with the knowledge that he’d eased her burden.

“And I’ll try not to be such an uptight pain in the ass,” she said, taking him by surprise.

He hadn’t expected her to know herself so well or to admit as much to him. Drawn by need and a compulsion he couldn’t explain, Riley reached out and pulled at the binding holding her bun in place. She gasped in surprise as strands of honey-colored hair fell around her face in waves, softening her features, making her appear infinitely more touchable.

More human.

More kissable.

She moistened her lips and he sucked in a sharp breath. Right now he was definitely one of those hormonal idiots they’d just discussed. He leaned in so they were almost cheek to cheek and he inhaled her fragrant scent.

Together they generated enough heat in the small space to steam the mirror, set off the smoke alarm and send the flight attendants barging in.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the captain has turned on the Fasten Seat Belt sign. Please take your seats as soon as possible.” The flight attendant’s voice broke into his thoughts.

He saw in her expression the moment she realized that she’d almost kissed Riley Nash at thirty thousand feet. Her eyes opened wide and she jerked away. Her knees came in contact with the toilet bowl and she sat on the closed seat with a thud.

He chuckled and held out his hand to help her up. “Tell you what. I’ll leave first and you can sneak out after me.”

“You’re a true gentleman, Nash.” Her voice held more than a hint of sarcasm, but her eyes held a wealth of gratitude.

He decided not to remind her that people had probably already seen him follow her into the bathroom or had likely already come to their own conclusions about what the two of them were doing in here. She had enough on her mind and Riley’s presence on this trip probably wasn’t helping her keep things in her life running smoothly.

But he couldn’t change the strength of their attraction nor, he admitted, did he want to.

C
INDY THOUGHT
she knew what frazzled meant. Coming from a family that consisted of herself and her father and the employees of his California seaside restaurant, she’d grown up harried and working practically from birth. She’d gone to UCLA and hadn’t moved East until her father had passed away last year. It had been tragic. An employee had stolen money from the register after hours and set a fire to cover his tracks. Frank James, “Jimmy” to his friends, had tried to save his restaurant and prized possessions before the firefighters arrived. He’d died of smoke inhalation inside the restaurant he’d adored.

After she’d survived that loss, Cindy thought she could handle anything. But The Hot Zone offices without the Jordan sisters, and Athletes Only without Spencer or Yank, was the equivalent of utter chaos. She and several others had been forced to work on a Saturday just to begin to deal with all that was going on and going wrong.

“And why did I agree to watch this dog?”

She’d just returned from a long walk with Noodle. One made longer by the dog’s desire to sniff, wander and
not
do business when told. She stepped off the elevator feeling out of sorts and almost out of options.

“Ms. James?”

“Yes?” Cindy turned to the temp who’d been working for the past couple of days.

Even if Raine, their normal receptionist, returned from her serious bout of the flu, the office could still use the manpower Nicki Fielding provided. Cindy had no doubt Sophie would agree.

“You have messages.” Nicki held out a stack of pink papers.

Cindy pushed the notes into her suit jacket pocket.

“Ms. Jordan called from Florida. I told her everything here was fine, which is true. Sort of. I mean the reporters are still hanging around,” Nicki whispered, gesturing to the group who’d perched themselves on the sofa, hoping for an interview from anyone here. “I just keep telling them ‘No Comment,’” she said, looking to Cindy for approval.

“You’re doing great.” She smiled at the young girl.

“I’m trying.” Her brown eyes were huge. “I don’t think Ms. Jordan thinks I’m that qualified.”

Cindy shook her head. “It’s just crisis time around here. We’ll all come through this fine. You’re being a huge help, I promise.”

The dog pulled on the leash and she groaned. “Go, you little pain in the—” Cindy leaned down, released the catch and the dog bolted, likely for the safety of Yank’s office, where Sophie said she could find the pooch if she went missing.

“If you need me, I’ll be in my office returning calls.” Cindy patted the papers in her bulging pocket and walked past the reporters, head held high, looking straight ahead before they could begin to toss out questions.

Cindy shut her door behind her, leaned against it and sighed. She couldn’t wait to hand this place back to Sophie. When she opened her eyes, she stared in shock. The most beautiful red roses sat on her desk.

“What the…?” She bent close and sniffed the glorious petals, breathing in their floral scent. As she pulled out the card, she realized the vase wasn’t a typical glass holder from a florist but etched Baccarat crystal.

“Red beauties for a redheaded beauty. Have dinner with me. Miguel.” Cindy read the card and shivered.

She’d been living in New York for a little over six months and although she’d made friends, she hadn’t dated anyone special. She hadn’t met anyone who seriously interested her. Until she’d laid eyes on Miguel Cambias. His dark eyes and naturally dark skin, so different from many of the surfers and actors she’d met in California, caused goose bumps to prickle up and down her arms.

But his business card had burned a hole in her pocket and she’d left it untouched in her desk drawer ever since. Loyalty was important to her. She’d learned it from her small band of “family” back home, a group related by love not blood.

She worked for The Hot Zone. She enjoyed her job and she appreciated all three Jordan sisters and the family like atmosphere they brought to the firm. For Cindy, this place was similar to her father’s tiny restaurant and she didn’t want to lose the inroads she’d made.

She slowly opened her desk drawer and stared at the business card tucked safely away. She also didn’t want to make a mistake and spend forever wondering what if. Fingering the business card, she turned it over and over in her hand. Sophie hadn’t asked her not to see Miguel. She’d just suggested Cindy be careful.

With those words in mind, Cindy picked up the phone. After all, what harm could come from one little dinner? she wondered.

I
NDIGNITY SURROUNDED
Sophie. When she’d headed out of the lavatory a short while after Riley, the people seated in the immediate area had applauded. Now as they waited for their luggage to arrive on the conveyor belt, she stood next to Riley and was forced to accept another very uncomfortable situation. Her panties were damp with desire and he was the cause.

So much for not doing athletes. So much for not doing
this
athlete. Much to her dismay, her fears had just been realized. If not for the plane’s descent and the pilot’s order to return to their seats, she’d have probably been initiated into the mile-high club and enjoyed every minute.

She rubbed her aching temples at the thought. Because in all probability, Riley could have just as easily substituted one of the flight attendants for her. The thought stung and stayed with her, hanging over her shoulders like a bag of rocks.

Sophie had a business to save and her uncle’s partner to find. She needed to focus and she needed a plan. Instead, she’d been distracted by the athlete who thought with his—

“Which one’s yours?” Riley asked.

She glanced at the luggage slowly coming around on the belt and pointed to the black bag with the hot pink string that identified the suitcase as hers.

Riley hefted the bag as if it weighed nothing, then grabbed an older-looking duffel before turning her way. “We’re good to go?”

She nodded. “I arranged for a rental car. All we have to do is check in over there.” She pointed to a large green neon sign. “A bus will take us to the lot with the car and we can be on our way.”

“Sounds good. Any idea where we’re going?”

“I printed out directions from MapQuest on the Internet. We should be all set.”

Half an hour later, they were settled in the rental car on their way to Spencer’s sisters’ in Fort Lauderdale. Sophie shifted restlessly in her seat, the air-conditioning doing nothing to cool off the heat surging through her body. The tingling awareness reminded her of what had transpired between them in the bathroom of the airplane.

Still she tried for normal conversation. “So what do you know about Spencer’s Florida family?” Sophie wanted to enter the situation as prepared as possible.

“Not a damn thing.” A muscle ticked in Riley’s jaw.

Obviously she’d hit a nerve.

“What about you? You’re the one who said he’s like family. What do you know about his sisters?”

“About as much as you.”

“In my experience, in Atkins’s world, family loyalty runs one way only.”

Sophie didn’t reply, because she wondered if Riley didn’t have a point. For all the years she and her sisters had known Spencer Atkins and for all the holidays he’d spent with her family, Sophie now understood they didn’t know the man at all.

She heard the anger in Riley’s voice and saw the rigid way he held his body as he drove. She studied his strong profile and could only imagine the tension brewing inside him.

“I guess we’re on this fishing expedition together.” She reached out and covered his fingers with hers.

He jerked in surprise but didn’t move his hand away. She didn’t have to wonder if his skin tingled as much as hers, if he was as affected as she. One glance at his lap answered that question. He wanted her, all right.

“We’re here. If you can tear your gaze away from my—”

“Okay!” She cut him off before he could phrase the words that would make her blush even more.

She scrambled out of the car and preceded him up the walk leading to a small patio home. The entire community was comprised of similarly styled houses painted in pastel pinks, yellows and blues. A warm breeze blew around her. There was a serenity to the community that Sophie wasn’t feeling at the moment and she hoped they’d find Spencer quickly so they could be on their way.

Riley jogged up beside her. “You know there’s nothing wrong with two people being attracted to one another.”

“There is when one of those people flirts with anyone in a skirt, which means the other one could be any woman for all it mattered. Oh, and especially when the two people are all wrong for one another.”

He chuckled, a masculine sound that said
I know better
. She hated that he found her feelings amusing.

Without warning, he tangled his fingers in her unruly, humidity-messed hair. The light tugging sensation was stimulating. She trembled despite her internal warnings to protect herself from his charm.

His lips turned upward in a grin. “You’re mistaken—not about the flirting, because I do enjoy that.”

She stiffened.

“But you’re by no means any woman. You’re unique, Sophie Jordan.” His voice deepened to a husky rasp. “And as for being wrong for each other, well, that depends whether you’re looking for sex or commitment, sweetheart.”

His words should have been like a bucket of cold water dumped over her. Instead the word
sex
reverberated inside her head. She also couldn’t help the pleasure she felt in knowing he’d considered her unique. When in her life had she been that?

But Riley had said she was special and at the idea of sex with him—sweaty bodies, hands everywhere and this big, gorgeous man filling her completely—she trembled all over.

Who cared if he was an athlete? Sophie thought.

She did. Or she should. Just like she should care that her business hinged on finding the man who might be inside this house. Shaking off thoughts of sex
for now,
she leveled Riley with what she hoped was her fiercest glare.

“Let’s see who’s home.” She strode up the steps and knocked. She’d figure out later what to do about this man who had her quivering and practically jumping him in the front yard.

Suddenly the door opened a crack. “Who’s there?” a female voice asked.

“Sophie Jordan. I—”

“Sophie Jordan who?” a female voice asked.

“Sophie Jordan, Spencer’s business partner and longtime friend.”

“Phooey. I was hoping you’d have a fun name we could play with. Like
Ben.
”

Sophie narrowed her gaze. “Ben? Why Ben?”

The door still didn’t open enough for her to see who was on the other side. “Because you’d say Ben who? And I’d say Ben there, done that.”

She shot Riley a glance over her shoulder and whispered, “Frannie said they were eccentric.”

Riley rolled his eyes. Just what he needed. A set of weirdo aunts in addition to a gay father who wouldn’t acknowledge his existence.

“Can we talk face-to-face?” Sophie asked. Her voice held no trace of her anxiety.

She hid her worries well, but he understood her concerns and would do his best to help ease them. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t enjoy his time with her while they were together. She was too easy to tease and, man, he enjoyed it when she blushed. All in all she was a distraction from the problems he was here to deal with and he knew he provided the same diversion for her.

Although he’d talked himself out of acting on his desire in the airplane bathroom earlier, there was no way he’d be able to keep his hands off her for long. If she looked at him with those blue eyes filled with yearning one more time, he’d say to hell with his good intentions—as long as she understood it would be just sex.

Suddenly the door opened wide, cutting off his thoughts. A woman with bright red hair, clashing hot-pink lipstick and 1970s blue eye shadow stared back and Riley had a sinking hunch he could count her among his long-lost relatives.

“Sophie, darling, I’m Darla Atkins, Spencer’s older sister. Of course you’d never know it by looking at me. Florida holds the secret to the fountain of youth. All this humidity provides moisture for the skin,” she said. “I’m so happy you’re here. Spencer has told us so much about you and your sisters.”

But from what Sophie had said, Riley knew that Spencer hadn’t told the Jordan sisters anything in return.

Darla pulled Sophie into an embrace that she welcomed awkwardly, patting the older woman on the back before stepping away and putting distance between them.

“And who is this handsome fellow?” Darla’s focus drifted past Sophie to Riley.

“Riley is—”

“Your paramour, of course! No need to explain. He’s such a handsome hunk, you’re a lucky woman, but then he’s a fortunate man to have such a beauty as you on his arm. Spencer’s filled me in on your accomplishments over the years. I know how bright you are. He’s proud of all three of you girls.” She paused, as if debating what to say next. “But he always thought you were special,” the other woman said, lowering her voice.

Riley tried not to laugh at her sudden whisper. It wasn’t as if Annabelle or Micki was anywhere near to hear the comparison.

Sophie reached out and grasped the other woman’s hand. “Thank you,” she said softly, her heart and all of her emotions bared in those two small words.

For the first time in years, he softened toward his biological father and all because of how he’d treated Sophie. Spencer’s instincts had been on target. He’d been right to single her out and give her the attention she obviously craved.

But warring with his unexpected admiration was an old childhood jealousy because Sophie and her sisters had received the love and approval Riley had always sought and failed to achieve. He forcibly reminded himself he was no longer that needy child, and it helped to ease his flash of pain.

“He’s not my paramour,” Sophie said in her haughtiest tone, her pert nose in the air.

Maybe it was her vehement denial. Or maybe it was how appalled she sounded by the notion of being linked to him, as if their recent truce and the lingering sexual tension didn’t exist. Riley’s ego, wounded first by Spencer’s lack of acknowledgment and then by Sophie’s blatant disregard, took over.

He stepped forward and slung his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “Now, honey, didn’t we talk about you getting over this shyness? Of course we’re lovers and Ms. Atkins obviously has no issues with our relationship, so why hide it?”

Sophie turned her head to him, shooting daggers at him with her eyes. “Riley…” Her voice held a warning edge.

He raised an eyebrow, silently challenging her to deny the heat where their bodies touched and the pulse-pounding desire thrumming through them even at that moment.

Spencer’s sister, meanwhile, watched avidly.

“Ms. Atkins,” Sophie began.

She shook her head. “Darla, please.”

Sophie smiled. “Darla. Riley needs—”

“I need to speak to you,” he said, cutting off any details Sophie might have let slip.

Why tell the chatterbox that he was Spencer’s son when they were looking to keep the news quiet? In case Sophie didn’t get his drift, he squeezed her waist, hoping she took his cue to remain silent about the truth.

He glanced at her delicate profile. Although she continued to scowl, no doubt still unhappy about his pronouncement that they were a couple, she kept her mouth shut tight and he exhaled in relief.

“Come in, come in.” Darla led them into the house.

Riley noticed she didn’t comment on their need to speak to Spencer.

Was his father here? Riley’s gut cramped at the notion of finally coming face-to-face with the man who’d avoided him all his life.

Riley held on to Sophie, long enough to whisper in her ear, “Just when are you going to ask her if the old man’s here?”

“I thought I’d finesse the situation. If Spencer isn’t here, and she doesn’t know that he’s missing, I don’t want to worry her.”

“What did you say?” Darla asked.

“Nothing,” Sophie replied, and pulled Riley along.

Together they entered a small kitchen with red and black wallpaper, modern appliances and homey clutter all over the place. The place was well lived in, Riley thought. Unlike his mother and stepfather’s home, which was an old estate on acres of land with servants to keep things immaculate and clean. The contrast was striking and yet Riley liked the warmth he sensed in this house. He wouldn’t be surprised if Spencer had decided to hide out here until the scandal blew over.

Following Sophie’s lead, Riley settled into a chair at the kitchen table, letting Sophie direct the conversation. They declined the offer of drinks and snacks, and they made small talk until Darla finally asked, “So what are you doing in Florida?”

The question didn’t bode well for their search, Riley thought.

“When was the last time you spoke with your brother?” Sophie asked, instead of replying directly to the other woman’s question.

“Oh, that Spencer’s an erratic one. Sometimes he calls daily, sometimes more often and when he’s busy during draft season, we don’t hear from him for weeks on end.”

“We?” Riley asked out of curiosity.

“My sister, Rose, lives here, too. She’s at the market. It’s grocery day and this is her week, which is a good thing because my sciatica is acting up and I don’t think I’d be able to bend and put things into the cart easily. Unless of course I wink at that cutie they hired. He might be willing to help me,” she mused.

“Isn’t that jailbait?” he whispered to Sophie.

She nudged him in the ribs.

“It’s hard to find a man over seventy with all his hair and his own teeth. Ian’s got both.” Darla glanced at Riley, a twinkle in her eyes.

This was a smart cookie, Riley thought. He wouldn’t be surprised if she was talking in circles on purpose to distract them.

“Draft season’s coming up,” Riley said, picking up on her thread of conversation. “Does that mean you haven’t heard from Spencer lately?”

“He checks in,” she said vaguely.

“He took a sudden vacation but didn’t say where he was going,” Sophie said. “We were hoping you’d know where to find him.”

Darla leaned forward in her chair. “Why didn’t you just call and ask me?”

Sophie blinked. “We did. Often. Nobody answered.”

“Oh, that Rose. She’s got herself a new boyfriend and doesn’t answer call waiting when she’s talking on the phone. I always tell her she’s such a chatterbox. Nobody enjoys hearing incessant nonsense.” She sniffed as if she were above such things.

Riley did his best not to laugh.

“Well, we’re hoping Spencer will call tonight seeing as it’s my birthday and all, so you may get lucky yet.”