Hero for Hire Read online

  But trusting her, when she so clearly had not trusted him, went deeply against the grain. And it left him feeling like an even bigger jerk, because now that he knew her a little bit, he knew exactly how much she’d welcome the news of Terry’s baby.

  “Rick?”

  He’d tell her all when she told him all, and not a second before, and he’d just have to live with the guilt. “Maybe she was a good lay,” he said cavalierly, and bingo, temper flashed hard and fast in her eyes.

  “I see.” Surging to her feet, she rubbed her wrist one more time, then turned away.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Why?” She stopped and looked at him over her shoulder. The very early morning sun glared in the windows, casting her beautifully glowing skin in a myriad of golds, and rendering her T-shirt absolutely sheer.

  How many gorgeous women had he laid eyes on over the years? Plenty.

  How many of those gorgeous women had made him hard enough to hammer nails? Plenty.

  But how many of those gorgeous women made him want to drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness?

  None.

  “You going to handcuff me again if I do not tell you?” she asked.

  “Just answer my question. Where are you going?”

  “Back to Rio. I have work.”

  “What about the car I saw following you up here last night?”

  “You are the only one who followed me.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  Another shrug. “I know of no one who would care where I go or what I do. And as I have told you all I can about Terry, I no longer matter to you. Right?”

  She was fishing, looking at him with a sort of half hope that made him hurt.

  Did she want him to deny it? He couldn’t. And since he hated to hurt, he purposely, carefully shut that look out. “Right.”

  The light in her eyes died, and he told himself he was glad, very glad.

  And then she was gone, sequestered in her room, the lock firmly in place.

  He got the message. Stay out.

  Five minutes later she came back into the living room fully dressed in her Senhorita Nina Monteverde attire, hair firmly back, distant smile in place.

  “You are still here,” she said coolly.

  “I thought I would follow you back into Rio.”

  “Sure. I would not want you to get lost.”

  “I’m not in danger of getting lost,” he said through his teeth. “I—” What? Wanted to make sure she was safe?

  He wasn’t protecting her!

  Not like he’d been honor bound to protect Mary Jo. But damn it, that didn’t stop him from struggling uselessly against the need to see this woman safe.

  “Do as you please,” she said, lifting her bag to her shoulder. “I am leaving.”

  His gaze narrowed in on what stuck out of her bag, and he stepped close, putting his hand on her arm.

  Impatience shimmered from her. “I am in a hurry.”

  “I can see that.” He fingered past a file labeled “Financials” to the top of the yearbook she’d crammed in with her stuff. “Why are you taking this?”

  “The financials are due today.”

  “The yearbook, Nina.”

  “No reason.”

  “Nina.”

  “Because I want to look at her again, all right?”

  She was dead serious and in danger of crying. “All right.”

  “Now either handcuff me again, or let me go.”

  Tempting as the first thought was, he let her go.

  But since she hadn’t yet told him all she knew, he followed her, because the truth was out there, and he was convinced Nina had it.

  * * *

  HOW DARE HE kiss her as if she were the most important woman in the entire world, and then, when they were no longer so close she couldn’t tell whose heartbeat was whose, look at her with those shuttered, cool eyes and act as if nothing had happened!

  Something had happened, and Nina wasn’t likely to forget it.

  It was a known fact that one could not drive through the glorious mountains in Brazil and remain furious, even when one had finally been coaxed into trusting, where one hadn’t trusted before.

  The views were too stunning, too breathtaking for that.

  She’d known, hadn’t she? Known Rick Singleton was trouble. She’d known to never trust a man with eyes so green and deep and full of secrets.

  But while in his arms, so safe and secure, she’d forgotten.

  She did her best to hold on to her foul mood, but the high coastal peaks, so wild and lush and green, did their job on her temper. So did the pure azure sky, without a single cloud marring its beauty.

  Then her cell phone rang, jarring her. “Hello?”

  “It’s Meg. You coming in today?”

  Meg Turner had been Terry’s pity hire, or so Terry had claimed privately to Nina. And since Meg had followed Terry from their college days together at Northwestern, desperately in need of a job, Nina had gone along with it.

  It had worked out, mostly because Meg was a quiet, dedicated worker who so rarely made a mistake that they all joked she was half human and half computer. Meg never bothered with Nina, never joked around, never started a conversation, and never came to her with anything, even work, so Nina wondered at the odd phone call. “I will be there in a little while,” she said slowly. “What is the matter?”

  “Nothing...just wondering where you were. I’ll see you in a little while then.”

  She clicked off before Nina could respond, leaving her to shrug and set the phone back down. She didn’t have time to worry about Meg. Or about John Henry’s attitude. Or how her father expected her to oversee all the business dealings when her heart had been given to the designing that she no longer had time for.

  Because the sun was sharp, and the narrow, winding roads filled with crazy Brazilian drivers, Nina cranked up the music and forced her mind blank.

  It worked for nearly the entire three-hour drive, until the very end, when in her rearview mirror, she caught sight of a motorcycle far back in her lane.

  Apparently it wasn’t enough to humiliate her in her mountain retreat—Rick had to follow her home to further the experience.

  If he could catch her, that is. She was a native, and knew the roads intimately. She couldn’t imagine how long he’d been in Rio, or really why he’d even landed there in the first place, but she ruthlessly used her advantage, randomly turning here and there, wherever she could, just to throw him off.

  Once in the city, she really got into the game, going through as many neighborhoods as she could, even several favelas, changing her direction at will, so that surely the irritating American who kissed like heaven and looked like sin was good and lost.

  Satisfaction coursed through her at that, childish as it was, but it lasted all the way home and up the walk of her condo.

  All the way, in fact, to the front door.

  Which was ajar.

  She hadn’t left her place unlocked, she knew it. But Terry had always made herself at home here, and with a surge of joy and hope, Nina charged in, expecting to find her sister sprawled out on the couch, drinking all Nina’s soft drinks and watching the television, as if nothing had ever happened, as if they hadn’t been separated by terrible circumstance for a year and a half.

  That’s not what Nina found, not at all, and it took a moment for the ransacked state of her condo to sink in.

  Her couches were turned over, the lining cut open and stuffing pulled out. Bookshelves had been emptied to the floor, as well as her hutch. Glass and broken treasures and books and pictures...everything lay on the floor in a broken, crumpled heap.

  And she’d charged in without thinking, even now standing out in the open, both her jaw and her heart on the floor as well.

  They could still be here.

  Quickly, she took a step backward, then another. And then, when no one reached out to grab her, whirled for the door.

  And plowed into a