Hero for Hire Read online

  And then share that man with her.

  “Lie down,” he said, feeling strained. “I can behave myself.”

  “Take off the handcuffs. Please?”

  “And have you take off again? I don’t think so. Now hurry up. I’m tired.”

  She hesitated another very long, painful moment. Finally, she tugged at the hem of her T-shirt and, careful to keep herself covered, gingerly lay on her back next to him, their joined hands between them.

  The silence stretched out.

  Nina’s feet rubbed together, so did her thighs. Her nipples, abraded by the material of her shirt, stood at erect attention.

  And he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  Then she shivered.

  With a particularly foul oath, Rick grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and tossed it over them, hoping against hope that if he couldn’t actually see her incredible body, he might be able to forget it.

  Didn’t happen.

  In strained silence, they lay there in the dark, both holding their breath.

  It was a long, long time before Nina finally dozed off.

  And an even longer time for Rick.

  * * *

  THE DOUBT that had taken root deep inside couldn’t be assuaged.

  Terry Monteverde was dead.

  Yes. She was. Dead.

  Dead.

  Repeating it became as necessary as breathing. Terry Monteverde was dead. Dead. Dead. It didn’t help that the body had never been viewed.

  Damn it, why had that been?

  And why hadn’t the thought occurred before now?

  Because a coffin was a coffin, and when you saw it being lowered into the ground, you believed it to be full, that’s why.

  There would be no peace, no relief of this tension, until the coffin had been opened and the body of Terry Monteverde seen. Now.

  It was midnight.

  In the cemetery.

  The stuff nightmares were made of. But that fit. This life had indeed become a nightmare, and the irony of the entire situation did not fail to hit as the dirt and twigs crunched beneath booted feet.

  The walk was long, but the moon was high. Far below, the city of Rio glittered.

  And fed a growing, crawling, frustrated temper.

  That this could happen now, a year and a half later, was beyond imagination. That Terry Monteverde could possibly be alive, walking around with all her wild beauty, stoked an uncontrollable rage.

  The graveyard, on a steep, mostly overgrown hill, caused much cursing and slipping and sliding.

  And more cursing.

  Finally, the right grave...just ahead. She’s dead. Dead!

  She had to be.

  By moonlight and flashlight, the engraved name shimmered in the night.

  Senhorita Terry Monteverde.

  She was right there, long gone and buried.

  She was.

  “You got what you deserved, Terry Monteverde!”

  Still, the niggle of doubt wouldn’t go away. It had grown steadily over the past weeks, even more with that American bounty hunter dogging Nina’s heels the past few days. It made no sense; Nina was a nobody. Something was up, something was wrong, and it had led to this midnight run of the graves.

  Luckily, there was no concrete vault, and the dirt was soft and giving beneath the shovel, and within moments, a good hole was started. The rest took longer than expected. Hours actually, and by the time the coffin was exposed, breathing had become ragged, the lines between nightmare and reality blurred.

  “You are dead. You are!”

  Looking at the coffin wasn’t enough. It had to be opened, which was shockingly easy. Jumping down into the hole, covered in dirt by this time and no longer even caring, opening the lid with shaking hands...

  A scream pierced the night. “No, no, no, no, no!” With another horrible cry, knees hit the dirt. Fists slammed on the wood.

  There was no body inside the coffin.

  Only sandbags.

  A dirt-streaked face was raised to the night sky. “Revenge!” This was a solemn vow. “I will get revenge, Terry Monteverde! I will find you and make you wish you had died in that boat!”

  * * *

  IN HER DREAMS, Nina was cold and afraid.

  Alone.

  Shivering, she tried to escape by turning away, found there was indeed warmth to be had, if she wanted it. All she had to do was roll from her back to her side and there it was.

  All she’d ever wanted, within her reach.

  Going for that incredible heat, she snuggled in, feeling it surround her, sighing with pleasure, and something even more.

  Sleeping had never felt so good.

  There came a low rumble in her ear, a cross between an encouraging groan and a growl, and with that sound an incredibly warm, strong arm slipped around her waist. A hand nudged the small of her back, urging her even closer.

  She felt safe and secure, and because this was a dream—a really great dream—she sighed again and practically crawled up that delicious hard length.

  It felt heavenly.

  Smelled heavenly, too, sort of like a warm, toasty, sleepy male, but that couldn’t be right since she rarely had erotic dreams.

  But it felt so real.

  She couldn’t hold herself back, she had to press her face into his throat and inhale deeply, she had to touch, so she lifted a hand to do just that, anticipating the feel of smooth, hot flesh, but her hand was caught—

  On handcuffs.

  Jerked awake by the horrible reality of her life—being manacled to an American bounty hunter with a sharp mouth and an even sharper desire to get the truth from her—she went stock-still and opened her eyes.

  Skin.

  That was all she saw.

  She was face-to-face, chest to chest, thigh to thigh with a very warm body, looking at a throat... Rick’s throat.

  She’d crawled all over him!

  He wasn’t moving though, which was strange, so she tipped her head back very slowly, very carefully, as if she’d found herself in the path of a cougar, which of course she had.

  The cougar had the nerve to still be asleep.

  If she’d been a mean-spirited woman, she might have smacked him, but the fact was, she’d curled into him, and she’d pressed her body full length to his, while he’d done just as he’d promised.

  He’d slept.

  The sun was peeking over the horizon, and she could feel the rays slowly climbing through the room and heating it up.

  It would be a warm one today, even up here in the mountains.

  Such banal thoughts momentarily took her away from the fact she’d wrapped herself around this perplexing—albeit gorgeous—man, but not for long, not when every pulse point drummed furiously, not when she felt all liquidy and hot, yet cold as ice all at the same time.

  She was deadly certain she knew what was wrong with her, and the knowing was not comforting.

  She was lusting.

  Lusting!

  After a man holding her against her will, a man she had no idea if she could trust with her secrets, a man who somehow both drew and repelled her.

  Okay, that was a lie.

  He didn’t repel her, not even close.

  The way they were lying, she could see only his face. To tip her head down any further would surely wake him up, but she didn’t need to see the rest, not when she could feel perfectly well, and oh my, what she felt. His one free hand was curled around her waist, the weight of his arm over her hip. He had one leg between hers, and Nina was shocked to find her own thigh muscles tensed, holding him there, as if she had been afraid he’d move that leg away.

  Good thing he was fast asleep, God only knew what he’d think of the way she’d plastered herself to him.

  But how to back off now without waking him?

  Slowly, very slowly, she relaxed her leg muscles, which were sore, as if she’d clung to him all night. Her face flamed at the thought.

  Nina Monteverde never clung!