Paladin's Woman Part 1

PALADIN'S WOMAN.

Beverly Barton.

Prologue.

Hoisting the beer bottle toward the woman sitting on the edge of the bed, he saluted her, his mouth widening into a smirk. "Tonight's the night."

"Are you sure?" Leaning down, she picked up the black silk robe from the floor. "If everything doesn't work perfectly and your man botches things, her daddy will call in a bodyguard like that." She snapped her fingers, her sharp mauve nails clicking together.

Reaching out, he circled her neck, caressing her naked flesh. "Don't you have any confidence in me?"

"Of course." She glared at him, a mixture of desire and fear in her eyes. "I just don't want anything to go wrong. We've worked very hard and been planning for a long time. There's so much at stake."

Gliding his hand downward, he cupped her breast, flicking his nail across the tight nipple. "Millions and millions."

She sighed when his caress roughened. "If anything goes wronga""

He laughed. "Nothing will."

"Kidnapping is a federal offense. We could both wind up in prison. I just wish there were some other way. I hate the thought ofa""

"Don't think about anything except all that beautiful money Rusty McConnell's going to lose to keep his precious Addy safe." He shoved her down on the bed, straddling her hips.

"You won't hurt Addy. You promise?"

"She won't be hurt. My guy said he'd use chloroform, then keep her bound and blindfolded until Big Daddy gives us what we want." He touched his lips to hers, whispering into her mouth. "You know I wouldn't lie to you."

All the while he took his pleasure with one woman, he thought of another. Addy McConnell. Sweet, sweet Addy. He had no intention of harming hera"not until he'd taken what he wanted from hera"not until her father had followed instructions and the authorities were off on a wild-goose chase. He really didn't want to kill Addy, but he didn't have any choice. Once his plan went into action and he'd accomplished everything he set out to do, Addy would have to die.

Chapter 1.

Who was he? Addy McConnell wondered. He didn't belong here. She was certain of that. Despite the fact that he wore a black tuxedo similar to the ones worn by most of the men in the room, he didn't blend into the crowd. For one thing, he was taller than the average man, at least six foot three, and his big, muscular body appeared constrained by the confines of his well-fitting clothes. His black hair, though cut conservatively short, was slicked back away from his dark face, and a band of thick waves curled about his neck. His cheekbones were broad and high, his chin square with a slight cleft. A pair of deep-set brown eyes surveyed the gathering of Huntsville's social elite.

And a small diamond stud glittered in his left ear.

No, Addy thought, whoever he is, neither she nor her father had invited him to the party. That meant he was either a friend of Dina's, or he had crashed the engagement celebration of the year.

She'd been watching him for at least ten minutes, but the man hadn't glanced her way. He appeared to be either distracted or bored. Perhaps both.

Addy hadn't missed the way most of the women in the room kept looking at him. Several had made advances. When he'd smiled and spoken to those women, they'd practically melted at his feet. A charmer. A Latin lover. A very dangerous man. All those expressions flashed through Andy's mind.

When a waiter offered him a drink, he declined. Using the black cane he held in his right hand, he limped away from the young brunette who'd been trying, in vain, to attract his attention.

Addy wondered what had caused his limp. He leaned heavily on the gold-tipped cane. Bracing himself against the wall near the French doors, he closed his eyes. She noticed a sudden tremor in his hand that clutched the walking stick, and knew he was in pain. Some irrational emotion stirred within her. She wanted to ease his pain.

With a disgusted grunt, Addy looked away, scanning the room for sight of a familiar face, anyone who would take her mind off the mysterious dark stranger. She really didn't know what was wrong with her. Men, as a general rule, didn't interest her much. Her ex-husband had cured her of any desire she'd ever had to experience the joys of a s.e.xual relations.h.i.+p. So, why did this man, this dangerous-looking interloper, fascinate her so much?

"He's gorgeous, isn't he?" Janice Dixon said. "Can you imagine what he looks like without his clothes?"

Addy tried not to laugh at her cousin's comment. Pet.i.te and bosomy, Janice Ann Dixon issued an invitation to the make s.e.x without even trying. But being a highly sensual creature, Janice took every advantage of what Mother Nature had given her.

"I'm sure he'd be willing to oblige, if you asked him," Addy said.

"You think he's easy, huh?"

"No." Addy suspected that despite the fact the handsome stranger emitted an easy charm, a dark and perhaps even troubled soul existed beneath his captivatingly smooth exterior. "But he most definitely is a man, and I've yet to see a man you couldn't seduce."

Janice snorted, the sound mingled with laughter. "I don't know if I should be flattered or offended."

"Be flattered."

"You seem unduly interested in our mysterious seor." Janice glanced across the room, then nudged Addy in the side. "He's going out onto the patio. Why don't we follow him?"

"Go right ahead." Addy had never chased a man, never followed one, never pursued one in any way, shape, form or fas.h.i.+on, and she certainly had no intention of starting now. Thirty-five was definitely too old to change the habits of a lifetime.

Long-legged and elegant in her purple silk jumpsuit, Ginger Kimbrew slipped her arm around Addy's shoulder. "Every woman in the room is in heat, and I see that includes both of you."

"Go away, Ginger," Janice said. "If three women follow him outside, it'll be a bit obvious, don't you think?"

"I don't have to follow him. We've already been introduced." Smiling, Ginger eyed Addy. "You have no idea who he is, do you?"

"No," Addy said. "Should I?" She turned to face her father's private secretary.

"I take it that dear step-mommy-to-be hasn't introduced you."

Addy was well aware of the animosity between her father's fiance Dina Lunden and his most valued employee of ten years. Dina resented any attractive woman in Rusty's life, and Ginger, who had hoped her position as mistress would one day he elevated to wife, hated the woman who'd finally trapped the man she wanted. "Dina invited him?" Addy asked.

"She most certainly did." Ginger's smile widened, her lavender-shadowed eyelids almost closing.

"How do you know?" Janice turned her head quickly, looking up at the taller woman.

"I asked him," Ginger said, grinning, her wide red mouth exposing a set of perfect white teeth. "I introduced myself and asked if he'd crashed the party or if he had an invitation."

"You did what?" Addy stared at Ginger, amazed anew at the woman's lack of manners. But then, Addy admitted that many of the new breed of Southern women didn't worry overly much about manners. Her grandmother, mother and aunt would have been appalled.

"He's Dina's brother-in-law." Ginger seemed delighted to be the one with so much information on the most interesting man at Dina Lunden and D.B. "Rusty" McConnell's engagement celebration. "Well, actually, ex-brother-in-law is more accurate. He's Dina's first husband's brother."

"Dina seems to stay on friendly terms with all her former husbands' relatives," Janice said. "Just look how close she and her stepson are."

"Brett Windsor is very attractive," Ginger said. "If you like the Ivy League type. He's Dina's third husband's son, right?"

"That's right." Addy glanced toward the French doors, wondering what Dina's former brother-in-law was doing out on the patio. Had one of the female guests propositioned him? Was he meeting her outside? A s.h.i.+ver of unexplainable excitement rippled through her. A vision of herself standing on the patio appeared in her mind. The dark stranger held her in his arms, his wide, full-lipped mouth moving downward.

"I knew he was a Latin lover boy," Janice said, again elbowing Addy in the side. "Hey, didn't you hear what Ginger said?"

"What?" Half dazed by the vividness of her daydream, Addy stared at her cousin in confusion.

"His name is Nick Romero. Oh, G.o.d, don't you just love the sound of it?" Janice was practically writhing.

"I think the proper term is Hispanic." Ginger looked at Addy, seeking her agreement. "Anyway, you're right about one thing, the term 'Latin lover' does come to mind the minute you see him."

Addy wondered how much of Ginger and Janice's conversation she'd missed while indulging in a fantasy about the man they were discussing. It was quite apparent that the man had a mesmerizing effect on women, and she absolutely refused to allow any man, not even this one, to arouse any long-dead dreams of pa.s.sion. No, she'd happily settle for the nice, warm feelings she shared with her friend Jim Hester. Though neither wealthy nor sophisticated, Jim was a dear man, and he possessed something that Addy desperately wanted, had wanted for as long as she could remember, had mourned the fact, after two miscarriages, that she might never have one of her own. Jim Hester had a child.

Addy didn't want or expect pa.s.sion. As a Plain Jane, she'd long ago learned that despite the fact she had no problem attracting men, it was always her father's millions that attracted them and not her beauty or charm. Dina's stepson, Brett Windsor, definitely saw dollar signs whenever he was around her, so she didn't encourage him.

"I think you and I should give Addy a shot at Nick Romero," Janice said, and laughed when she saw the stricken look on her cousin's face.

"You're right. After all, a man like that just might find Addy's sweetness and innocence a real turn-on." Ginger stopped a waiter, retrieved a canap from a silver dish, then popped it into her mouth.

"I'm hardly innocent," Addy said. "I'm a thirty-five-year-old divorce, not an eighteen-year-old virgin."

"Regardless of that fact, you could write everything you know about s.e.x on the head of a straight pin." Janice stopped a waiter for a fresh gla.s.s of champagne.

"Would you look at that?" Ginger nodded toward the French doors where a stunningly beautiful Dina Lunden was slipping outside.

Addy watched. Dina's black satin gown s.h.i.+mmered, every inch adhering to her slender body in a way that accentuated her round hips, her small waist and her voluptuous bosom. Even at forty-six, the woman reeked of s.e.x appeal and looked at least ten years younger. It didn't hurt that she was cla.s.sically beautiful, with a kittenish type of s.e.xuality. The kind that had made Marilyn Monroe a legend.

"Looks like step-mommy-to-be has beaten us all to the punch," Ginger said. "I wonder what she wants to talk to Nick about in private?"

"Are you implying that there's something going on between Dina and her former brother-in-law?" Addy asked.

"There's one way to find out," Ginger said.

"We could all three go outside for a breath of fresh air," Janice said.

"No." Addy held up a restraining hand. "You two stay here and enjoy the party a and make sure Daddy doesn't come outside."

Nick Romero leaned his hip against the brick patio wall. d.a.m.n, his leg ached. He'd been standing too long. Ever since an Uzi had ripped his leg open nearly seven months ago, he'd had to learn to live with pain. Indeed, the pain had been his friend. As long as he could feel the pain, he was alive. While he'd pa.s.sed in and out of consciousness, he'd kept reminding himself that as long as he could feel, he wasn't dead. And so he had embraced the agony, he'd clung to it. He'd been d.a.m.ned and determined that no maniac's sneak attack was going to kill him. After all, he'd lived through Vietnam, through almost ten years as a Navy SEAL and nearly a dozen years as one of the DEA's top agents. He hadn't overcome poverty and prejudice and the constant threat of death to let some psycho from his best friend's past destroy him. No, Nick Romero was made of stronger stuff.

He smelled her perfume before he saw her. Heavy, spicy, erotic. Even when Dina Lunden had been Dina Romero, his brother Miguel's wife, she'd bathed herself in cologne. Back then, it had been the cheap stuff, the kind you bought in dime stores for a dollar, the kind that Dina could afford on her waitress's salary and her husband's meager wages from farming. But once Miguel had gone to work in the oil fields, Dina started buying her perfume at the drugstore.

Funny, what a guy thought about when he smelled a woman's perfume. Of course, Dina wasn't just any woman. She was special. Despite the fact that what he'd once felt for her was long dead, she would always be special. A man never forgets his first love, especially if she was his brother's widow.

"Nicky." Her voice had that same soft, little-girl coo it had so many years ago. "I saw you come outside and thought now might be a good time for us to talk. Privately."

She was still a d.a.m.ned good-looking woman. Still s.e.xy as h.e.l.l. The one blonde he'd never been able to forget. "Talk away. I'm listening."

She moved forward, stopping hesitantly. She reached out, her long, slender fingers draping themselves around his forearm. "I've missed you, Nicky. It's been a long time."

"Not so long, Dina." She had such a hypnotic smile. A smile that promised so much and gave so little. Nick knew how deceptive everything about this woman could be. "I came to your last engagement party and your last wedding." He noticed that her smile scarcely altered, but the light in her eyes dimmed ever so slightly. "It couldn't have been more than three years ago."

"Almost five." She squeezed Nick's arm, her sculptured pink nails biting into the fabric of his tuxedo. "You haven't missed one of my weddings, have you, Nicky? Excepta"

"Except the one that you didn't invite me to."

"I thought you'd forgiven me for marrying Briley Fuller so soon after Miguel died."

Nick tilted her chin with his index finger, looking directly into her big blue eyes. Like her lips, those eyes promised so much. False promises. "I've forgiven you for everything. It's myself that I've never been able to forgive."

"Silly boy, you didn't do anything wrong." She nudged her body closer, pressing her full b.r.e.a.s.t.s against his chest.

"I l.u.s.ted after my brother's wife, and when he wasn't three months cold in the ground, I screwed her." Even, now, after all these years, he could still taste the bile as it rose to his throat, still hear the condemnation on his grandmother's tongue when she found Dina in Nick's bed. He'd thought he was in love. He'd been seventeen. And he'd been a fool.

"Miguel was dead. I was lonely." She ran the tips of her long nails across his jaw. "And we wanted each other."

Taking her by the shoulder, Nick pushed her away from him. "I was seventeen. I wanted a woman, and at that time you were my ideal. Blond, big-b.o.o.bed and knowledgeable."

She laughed, the sound like a high-pitched bell. Clear and sharp and feminine. "I'm so glad we've stayed friends, despite the fact you wouldn't even speak to me after I married Briley. He was a mistake, but a he was so rich."

"You seem to like your men that way," Nick said, glancing over Dina's shoulder toward the French doors. They had just opened, and a tall, slender redhead was looking straight at him.

Nick's gut tightened. There was something familiar about the woman, her t.i.tian hair, her towering height, her strong features. She certainly wasn't cla.s.sically beautiful, but she possessed an earthy appeal that not even her plain dress and subdued hairstyle disguised.

"You mean that I like rich men?" Dina asked.

"Yeah, rich mistakes. How many will this make? Five?"

The redhead walked out onto the patio, closing the doors behind her. She stood less than twenty feet away. And she was still staring at him. He felt an odd sensation in the pit of his stomach. Amazed at his reaction, Nick admitted to himself that the tall, skinny redhead turned him on. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so fascinated by a woman.

He shook his head. d.a.m.n, who would have believed it? She certainly wasn't his type.

"Rusty will be my sixth husband. You never count Miguel."

"Do you know a tall, slim redheaded woman wearing a gray silk dress?" Nick asked.

"Why?" Dina's voice trembled slightly.

"She's standing just a few feet away watching us."

Dina swirled around, her most dazzling smile in place. "Addy, darling, do come over and meet my Nicky."

He surveyed darling Addy from the top of her curly red hair to the tips of her gray leather heels. Thick, unruly flame-red hair. Plain but expensive two-inch heels. A neat little gray silk dress covered her model-thin body. It didn't cling or drape; it simply covered. Despite the fact that this woman obviously didn't dress to attract men, Nick found her very attractive. Even though he truly liked women, all women, he usually preferred s.e.xy blondes with round curves.

Darling Addy stared at him intently, as if she were trying to gauge the extent of his personal relations.h.i.+p with Dina. She seemed interested in him, but not enthralled the way so many women usually were. He didn't know exactly what it was about him that piqued female interest, but he wasn't about to deny himself the pleasures of being considered a Romeo.