Bargain in Bronze

If only he’d stayed all cynical ice-man. Him smiling made it hard for her brain to retain operational status. She shook her head.

“Didn’t think so.” Now his smile vanished. “What’s your name?”

“Libby Harris.” She pulled it together and answered firmly. “And yours?” She wasn’t going to give him an ego trip by admitting she already knew who he was.

“Jack Barnes. I’m Tom’s older brother and this is my apartment.”

Of course it was. Libby shrank inside, hopelessly fighting the heat invading her face. She must look like a cherry tomato. “But Tom lives here.”

“When he’s in town, yes.” His answer was shorn of any lingering amusement.

Why hadn’t Tom explained it was his big, bad brother’s apartment he was sending her to? And why had she so cheekily looked around?

But it was too late now, all she could do was get the job done and leave. And okay maybe she ought to apologize for snooping. But she really didn’t want to—the guy seemed to feel superior enough already. “Well, if you don’t mind, I need to get back to what I was doing.”

Head held high, she walked across the floor—carefully leaving a four-foot firebreak between them. He turned and walked behind her. Now she felt so self-conscious it was a wonder she didn’t fall over her own feet. It was too unfair of him to be that hot in his faded jeans and white T-shirt. And did he have to watch her so super close all the time—like she was some world-threatening virus on a microscope slide?

“Actually, Libby Harris,” he murmured with toe-curling, intimate softness. “I’m afraid I do mind.”

Chapter Two

Jack Barnes slowly followed his unwanted guest into the kitchen, reluctant amusement fighting bitter disappointment. Her glossy, dark hair hung in a long ponytail and her figure would be girlishly slim if it weren’t for the glorious curves rounding out her T-shirt. He could see exactly why Tom had invited her over to “make muesli.”

Unbelievable.

“Sorry Mr. Barnes, but your brother asked me to do something for him and I’m not leaving here until I’ve done it.”

Also unbelievable was the cuteness of her defiant smile as she took up position behind the countertop, already working that ridiculously small knife on the chopping board.

He cursed under his breath. His brother had always been impetuous and frankly, too obsessive. He couldn’t blame him in this case though. Jack absolutely understood the attraction. For the first time in their lives, he was hot for the woman his brother wanted.

Too bad for both of them. Because Jack wasn’t going to stand by and watch Tom derail again—not this month. He had to get rid of her. But she had bags scattered over the bench between them—rolled oats, hazelnuts, a tall bottle of maple syrup… Yeah, her whole healthy eating act was cute and she was so luscious, Tom would probably eat cardboard and crushed bricks to earn her favor.

Nowadays Jack no longer noticed what Tom ate. The guy was healthy and fit and had been in training so long he knew exactly what he could and couldn’t have. He was on some superstrict plan and Jack trusted his brother to manage that on his own. He trusted him on other things less—like women.

His brows lifted as he read the price sticker on the back of the bottle of maple syrup. In the early days their food bills had been astronomical and it had been a huge struggle to make all the payments. Fortunately, the scrimp-and-save days were gone, though Jack was still sensible. To this day he had a fund going so his younger brother and sister would never know what it was to worry about how the next grocery bill was going to be paid.

“What’s so special about your muesli?” Apart from the outrageous price of that syrup.

She deftly sliced through three of the dark dried apricots. “Maybe you need to ask Tom.”

Damn good idea. He’d be asking Tom a few other pertinent questions as well. Right on time his phone chimed—Tom.

“Jack, I’ve got a woman coming.” Tom said the second Jack answered. “Don’t let her leave.”

“Libby Harris,” Jack confirmed. Pretty name, even prettier face. As for her cocoa-colored eyes and her stop-the-traffic curves…

“She’s there already? Brilliant.” Tom spoke quickly, clearly distracted. “She’s absolutely amazing.”

Jack’s temper spiked—it was exactly as he’d suspected.

“Don’t let her leave before I get back,” Tom said—practically breathless.

Actually now Jack would make doubly sure she was gone before Tom returned. His kid brother had gotten back from a training camp only this morning—what the hell was he thinking?

“It’s really, really important Jack. Understand?”

He understood all right. Tom had the bit between his teeth—the raging lust. And Jack couldn’t blame him. She was beautiful. Not Tom’s usual bikini-babe, party diva type—maybe his kid brother had finally grown up some. But it still wasn’t the right time. Couldn’t he wait this one last month?

From the desperation in Tom’s voice Jack knew there was no way Tom was waiting or that he’d asked her here just for muesli. His brother was about to go over-board again mere weeks out from the biggest event of his career. Well, Jack wasn’t going to let it happen. Not this time.

“I’ll sort

it for you,” Jack smiled as he spoke, hoping Tom wouldn’t hear the anger riding inside.

“Fantastic.”

Jack rang off, even more annoyed by the audible relief in Tom’s answer. He scowled at the mess of ingredients on the bench and then across to the woman who’d no doubt heard most of that conversation. “Seems your muesli is really important.” He grimaced. Given the mess already, he supposed he should let her make it—seemed she was halfway there already. But then she could leave. “How long does it take to make?”

“A couple of hours. I need to toast some things separately and then combine them.” She banged the knife down rapidly—machine-gun style.

“You need to do it more quickly than that.” Jack knew Tom had gone straight into another training session and would be at least three hours but he wasn’t taking any chances.

“Why?” More chopping, even faster.

Jack decided to be honest. “I don’t want you here when Tom gets back.”

Her eyes widened and the knife hovered above the all-but-pulped fruit.

“I don’t want you distracting him,” he clarified.

“Distract—” she broke off and cleared her throat. “I wouldn’t distract him.”

Jack kept looking at her and waited for the penny to drop. She was smart, it didn’t take long.

“But I wouldn’t. I’m… I’m… I’m not his type,” she choked, color flooding her face—her astonishment both visual and audible. “That’s not why…” she trailed off.

She knew Tom’s type? Which meant she knew more than a bit about Tom—about his “distraction” a couple of years ago? Yeah, she wasn’t as innocent as she was making out. The embarrassed look was pretty Oscar-worthy though.

“Maybe he’s matured,” Jack murmured.

“Okay.” She abandoned the chopping altogether and pointed the small knife in his direction. “You think he’s ‘matured’ and yet you think he’s chasing me only weeks out from the biggest race of his life?” She shook her head. “That doesn’t make sense.”

It was Tom’s taste in women that had matured, but definitely not his ability to control himself when he fell in love. Tom fell hard, that was his problem. And the bigger problem for Jack was that he could totally understand why in this case.