Hot Item (Hot Zone 3)

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.