Truth or Dare by Janis Reams Hudson Page B

every day at work, not the coolly glamorous Rachel he'd met one night in Las Vegas, not the terrified Rachel who had panicked in his arms.  This was the real Rachel, the smiling, outgoing, friendly, soft, beautiful Rachel.  The one he'd been wanting to meet.  Rachel.
    He caught the look of shock on her face and grinned.  Well, well, well.  Rachel.
    "Look out, Coach!"
    "Dad!"
    Jared turned and ducked just in time to avoid getting hit square in the ear with the returning ball — the one he should have been expecting, except that all his attention had been focused on Rachel.
    Even with his near – miss, he couldn't wipe the grin off his face.  Now I know what the term "knock out" means, when applied to a woman.
    "At this rate," Mike grumbled beside Rachel, "the Bluejays are bound to lose.  You know him?"
    Rachel's eyes never left Jared as the game got underway.  She answered Mike in a distracted voice.  "He's my boss."
    "Your what?"
    Rachel focused on Mike and shrugged.  "Jared Morgan is my boss."
    "At the television station?"
    "That's the one."
    "But . . . but . . . he recognized you!  Without your wig and stuff."
    Rachel glanced away.  "He, uh, saw me without it in Las Vegas."
    "How'd that happen?"
    "Just one of those things," Rachel hedged.  "It was an accident.  A mistake on my part.  Anyway, it happened."
    "What'd he say when he found out?  And if he already knows, how come you keep up the costume?  He must hate it.  I know you do."
    Rachel squirmed in her seat.  What could she say?  She couldn't very well tell her son that she kept up her disguise as a barrier against a man she shouldn't be attracted to, but was.  A flimsy barrier, at that.
    She was saved from answering when Caroline put a runner out on second and Mike jumped up to shout, "Way to go, Caro!"
    A few minutes later, the center fielder caught a fly ball for the third out, and the Bluejays started in from the field for their turn at bat.  Jared strolled over to the backstop and looked up at Rachel, a slow smile spreading across his face.
    "Hi, Mike," he said, his eyes still on Rachel.  His gaze roamed slowly over every inch of her, touching her, warming her, stealing her breath.  In a voice as thick and slow as molasses, he said, "Good to   .   .   .   see you."
    Rachel felt Mike stiffen beside her.  If Jared didn't stop staring at her that way, as if she were his own personal property, there was liable to be trouble.  Rachel felt certain that if she looked up the word "overprotective" in the dictionary, her son's picture would be there in place of the usual definition.
    Finally Jared pulled his gaze away and looked at Mike with a grin and a wink.  "Nice mom you've got there, Harding."
    Before Mike could answer, Jared turned and joined his team on the bench that took the place of a dugout.
    From somewhere down in front, a laughing female voice floated up:  "The season sure won't be dull with her around.  Did you see the way Morgan looked at her?  I'd sell my kids for a look like that from a man like him."
    "If that's how he looks at you, no wonder you keep your disguise," Mike said, his eyes narrowed to slits as he stared a hole in Jared's back.  "Does he know everything?"
    Rachel took her first full breath in minutes, then let it out slowly.  "No.  Apparently he was out of the country when, well, you know.  He didn't know who I was."
    As the first Bluejay waited for the pitch, Mike asked, "So what're ya gonna do?"
    She shrugged.  "That's up to him.  I won't quit my job.  Not unless I have to.  All he'd have to do would be tell the employment agency what I've done.  I'd never get another job in this city."
    Mike brooded for a while, then surprised Rachel with, "You want me to have a talk with him?"
    Her first impulse was to cry.  He was so grown up.  Almost a man now, no longer a little boy.  She swallowed her tears and gave him a hug.  "Thanks, honey, but no.  It'll be all right.  You'll see."
    From the other