Hot Item (Hot Zone 3)

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 m

outh 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?”