“See ya later, guys,” she said, looking at her parents. “I’m taking the boys with me. We’ll be back in a little while.”
Nadia grabbed Waynie and Dante’s hands and pulled them toward the door. Both Nick and Maria jumped to their feet.
“Nadia, where do you think you’re going?” Nick asked, his voice edged with panic.
Nadia blew a piece of hair out of her face and turned around. “Remember, I told you the other day I had a gig at Charlie’s.”
“Surely you can’t mean to go sing in some bar tonight?” Nick sputtered.
Nadia folded her arms across her chest. “Well, as a matter of fact, I do.”
“Honey— that’s crazy,” her mother said, pressing a hand to Nick’s back. “You were almost killed yesterday.”
A flash of impatience crossed Nadia’s face. “So, when do you two propose I venture back into the real world? Tomorrow … next week … next year? Heck, maybe never. Maybe I’ll just stay here the rest of my life, holed up with you guys.”
“Nadia, that’s not fair,” Maria said.
“No, it’s not,” Nadia said sharply, then she softened her tone. “Look, I’m not going to hide. Yes, if he kills me, he wins. But he still wins if I cower here in the shadows, afraid to go outside. I’m not going to let him control my life.”
Nadia crossed over to her parents and hugged them both.
“I love you guys, but I can’t live like this,” she said gently. “I’ll be okay. Dante and Ronnie will be there, along with the others. I have a whole platoon following me around. What could happen?”
When they didn’t reply, she pivoted toward the door. “I’ll be back around midnight, okay?” she called over her shoulder, and pushed out the door before they could protest. Dante followed.
She jumped off the porch, not bothering with the steps, and strode toward the garage in the moonlight. Dante glanced back at the house.
Maria Branson stood in the doorway watching, her hand twisting the gold chain around her neck. He felt a little sorry for Nadia’s mother, even though he could see Nadia’s side of it too. Nadia was a lot like him, he suspected, and the worst thing anyone could do to people like them was to cage them up.
“Ronnie, Waynie!” Nadia yelled. “Are you coming?”
“Yeah, yeah. Hold your horses,” Ronnie called from the house.
Another bodyguard stumbled out of the barracks, tugging a black T-shirt over his head. Waynie started toward the Hummer clutching a bag of Fritos and Ronnie waved him away.
“Huh uh. No, you don’t. I just vacuumed this thing. You and your Fritos have to ride with Jacobi.”
Waynie made a loser sign on his forehead with his thumb and forefinger and Ronnie flipped him a bird. Finally, Dante found himself in the back of the Humvee with Nadia. She leaned in close to press her face to his shirt.
“Geez, Dante, what kind of cologne is that?” she demanded.
He hesitated. “Uh, it’s called Diesel Green. Why? Does it smell bad?”
“No! It’s wonderful.” She gave him a wicked smile and ran her freshly polished nails up the back of his neck. “Makes me want to scratch and sniff.”
She reached over the driver’s seat and rapped Ronnie on the head with her knuckles. “I think that’s what I’m going to buy you for Christmas. A whole case of Diesel Green. Maybe then you can get a girlfriend.”
Ronnie grunted and adjusted the rearview mirror. “No, thanks. Now that I know it’s a proven attractant for annoying little pests like you.”
“Better a pest like me than no pest at all.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
Ignoring him, Nadia turned back to Dante. “You know, I forgot to ask. What did Nick have you doing all morning?”
Dante shrugged. “Nothing much. He showed me around and explained my duties. Stuff like that. He warned me about you too. About how much trouble you could get into.”
The amber glow from the streetlights lining the drive illuminated her face and Dante grinned when she rolled her eyes.
“Not hard to do around here, believe me.” She leaned back in the seat and pressed her leg against his.
“Does he know you jump off bridges too?” he teased.
“Sure he does,” Ronnie said, wagging his eyebrows in the mirror. “I have the picture to prove it.”
Dante laughed. Nadia leaned against him, resting her head in the crook of his arm.
And she’d talked about his cologne.
She was wearing that perfume again. It enveloped Dante like a drug, stealing his common sense. Nick had told him to ignore her, to pretend he wasn’t interested. He wondered how on earth he was supposed to do that.
Her hands lay in her lap and he picked one up, tracing his fingers over her palm. “I find it hard to believe you don’t have a boyfriend, princess.”
“Believe it,” Ronnie said from the front seat. “She ain’t even had a date in awhile.”
Nadia frowned. “It’s been a few days.”
Dante caught Ronnie’s wink in the rearview mirror and tried to hide his smile.
“You know, now that I think about it … you haven’t had one in a few weeks, huh?”
“No.” Nadia stretched to pop Ronnie in the back of the head. “But thanks for clearing that up for us.” She smiled at Dante. “You know how it is. I’ve been biding my time, waiting on a real man.”
He laughed, remembering their first conversation.
Glancing at three pairs of headlights following them down the drive, she said, “Geez, I bet the president’s daughter doesn’t have this much security. I’m sure to fill the house tonight, since I’m bringing most of the audience with me.”
“So, that’s your job? You’re a singer?” Dante asked.
Ronnie snorted. “To qualify as a job, it’s supposed to be something that makes money.”
“Hey, Charlie paid my bar tab last time,” Nadia protested. Turning back to Dante, she said, “Nah, this is only for fun. When I was a mean little kid, my grandma would take up for me, saying, ‘That girl’s got ants in her pants. She doesn’t mean to get into everything. She’s only working off energy.’ That’s what I’m doing. Working off energy.”
Dante squeezed her shoulder and kissed the top of her head.
She glanced out the window and said, “I can’t stay cooped up in that house like they do. I know this makes them nervous, but I really don’t do much. I even go to college here in Sewanee because Nick’s afraid somebody will assassinate me on campus. This last semester, he started sending people in the classroom with me. I walked into Psych class one day and there sat Waynie.” She chuckled. “Hey, Ronnie. How did Nick manage to get Waynie enrolled in that class anyway?”
“I don’t wanna know,” Ronnie replied. “But you should’ve seen Waynie doing his homework.”
“Your father must be very afraid of this man,” Dante commented, wondering how long this had been going on. Had Nadia always lived under armed guard?
“He’s evil,” Ronnie said matter-of-factly, and Nadia nodded her head in agreement.
“Why is he after your father?”
“He thinks Nick took what was his.”
Then she changed the subject, talking instead about the term paper Waynie had done for the course, Slobs Who Live With Obsessive Compulsives.
“He did not!” Ronnie accused, staring wide-eyed in the rearview mirror.
“He most certainly did. He had a hypothetical that mentioned two roommates, Dwayne the slob and Ronald the neat freak. Ronald was all uptight and tense, taking out all his aggression on his poor roomie Dwayne, who was just your average guy. He blamed Ronald’s compulsiveness on his lack of female companionship. Said he was sexually repressed.”
Ronnie nearly wrecked. Dante slung a protective arm around Nadia to keep her from being pitched into the floorboard. She was laughing so hard she was almost in tears.
“I’m gonna kill that moron!” Ronnie shouted.
Leaving Nadia to get ready for her set, Dante strode down t
he corridor and reentered the bar using the stage door. A sense of relief stole over him as he surveyed the crowd. Charlie’s was a pretty small bar. There were probably no more than fifty people here tonight, and they all looked like they belonged. A bunch of college kids, a couple of roughnecks … no farm workers with fifty dollar manicures.
This was the kind of joint he was comfortable in. Peanut shells crunched underneath his boots, and the place smelled like pizza, beer, and cigarette smoke. Dante walked past the blaring jukebox, past the crooked tables with mismatched tablecloths and took a seat at the bar.
A flashing pink sign above the bar advertised a beer he’d never heard of, and the bartender caught him staring at it.
“You want one of those, hon?” she asked.
Dante shook his head. “I’ll take a Coke, though, when you have time.”
The bartender nodded and snapped her gum. She had teased red hair, thick blue eye shadow, and a name tag that read “Flo”. Dante smiled when she walked away, thinking of the waitress from a TV show he’d watched when he was a kid.
Ronnie hopped up on a barstool beside him.
“Wait till you hear Nadia sing. She’s great.” He winked. “Just don’t tell her I said so.”
“Okay.” Dante smiled.
The bartender slid Dante’s drink to him. He thanked her and reached for his wallet, but Ronnie shook his head. “Put it on my bill, Flo.”
Flo nodded and walked off.
“Thanks, man,” Dante said, lifting his glass.
“No problem. We’re co-workers now.” Ronnie was quiet for a moment, then he said, “Nadia likes you, you know?”
Dante paused, wondering if Branson had told Ronnie about their arrangement. Maybe not, since he hadn’t been fired yet. He weighed his answers and, in the end, decided to be honest. “I like her too.”
“I’ve been working for Mr. Branson for eight years now. Nadia was a kid when I started. I taught her how to drive.” He looked at Dante over his own glass and said, “All I’m asking is, don’t hurt her, man. Nadia ain’t as tough as she acts.”
Dante nodded, thinking about the vulnerable little girl he’d glimpsed beneath her cocky exterior last night.
Ronnie continued, “She’s been through a lot of crap in her life. I wasn’t lying about the little sister thing. All of us guys are real protective of her.” He gave Dante a faint smile. “I’d hate to have to beat you up.”
“Understood,” Dante said with a nod. Then he said, “So, tell me … how did you end up rooming with Waynie?”
Ronnie scowled. “I drew the freakin’ short straw, that’s how. You don’t think it was because I had a choice, do you?”
Ronnie started on another tirade and soon Dante was laughing hard as Nadia had on the way down.
“Hey, Ronnie,” Flo said. “Quit your yapping and get that jukebox for me, would you? It’s almost time for Nadia.”
“With pleasure.” Ronnie drained the rest of his drink and set the glass on the counter. “I hate this song.”
He walked over to the jukebox and yanked the plug.
Nadia walked onto the stage. “Hey, guys!” Nadia yelled into the microphone.
Catcalls and whistles greeted her while the band assembled behind her. Dante recognized the two boy toys from the restaurant and said a fervent prayer that Nadia was not a pop singer.
She gave a little bow and said, “I’m feeling magnanimous tonight, so you guys know what that means …”
“I have no idea what that means!” Waynie shouted from across the room.
“Moron,” Ronnie muttered.
Nadia laughed. “Okay, Waynie. I’m feeling generous tonight, so here it is. This is request night. I’ll sing whatever you want me to, but if you make me sing bubblegum crap, no more request nights. Okay?”
Someone shouted out a request and the band began to play. Dante had to admit, they were pretty good. Then Nadia began to sing.
She was better than good.
Her smoky voice filled the room and the whole place got quiet. Nadia was a presence on the stage. In other bars, people did their own things and hardly paid attention to the band, but Nadia had them under her spell.
She impressed him with the range of songs she was able to cover. She sang mostly rock, contemporary, and classic, then a drunk cowboy threw his hat on the stage and shouted out a request. Without missing a beat, Nadia donned the hat and cued the band.
Soon, she was singing and prancing around the stage, doing some of the most inspired wiggling and jiggling Dante had ever seen. He couldn’t help but laugh.
The girl was a firecracker, and she was having a ball. The crowd roared their approval.
“Whew, thank you!” Nadia paused between songs to get a drink of water. “This song here is for my friend, Slick.”
The band broke into a frenzied version of the old Joan Jett and the Blackhearts song, I Love Rock and Roll. Nadia blew him a kiss when she sang about meeting a guy by the record machine.
Dante laughed, remembering their first meeting. Remembering the first time Nadia had knocked him off his feet. Hadn’t part of him known even then that he was going to fall in love with her?
The thought sobered him.
He wasn’t falling in love with Nadia. He couldn’t. He was here to do a job, and he’d best get that through his thick head.
No way he could be falling for her. He’d only known her for twenty-four hours and Dante had never been much of a believer in love at first sight. But no woman he’d ever known made him feel like Nadia did.
Not even the one he’d married.
Why was he thinking of all this?
Dante Giovanni wasn’t steady relationship material. He’d been told that more than once, and knew it to be true. So, why was he dreaming about happily-ever-after with Nadia?
He needed to get her to her father soon, before both of them got hurt. Because no matter what his head told him, his heart wasn’t listen—ng when he was around her.
Maybe tonight.
Dante could guess how Nadia would react if she knew about Nick’s stipulation. She’d go nuts. He could talk her into leaving with him. She could be safe and sound with her real father in a matter of hours.
You ruthless jerk, he thought.
His stomach rolled when he realized he was contemplating using her attraction to him to his advantage. But what other choice did he have?
Ronnie’s shout tore him from his thoughts. Dante glanced up to see the drunken cowboy charge the stage.
CHAPTER 4
Let go … of me,” Nadia gasped when the cowboy grabbed her waist and pulled her to him. The stench of beer and body odor made her eyes water.
“Come on, baby, just one little kiss,” he slurred. “That’s all I need.”
Nadia planted her hand under his chin and forced his face away from hers. She groaned when she heard Ronnie’s shout. Waynie’s heavy footsteps thundered across the stage.
She’d have to move quickly to keep them from killing the poor slob.
Glancing down, she stomped on his instep with the heel of her boot. The cowboy howled and abruptly released her. Before he could do anything stupid, Nadia hooked her foot behind his ankle and sent him tumbling to the floor. He made no attempt to get up.
“You ought to be ashamed of yourself,” she said, standing over him. “What would your mama think if she saw you acting like such an ass? Now, get over there and get yourself some coffee.”
Ronnie chuckled. “Gee, Nadia. You already beat him up. You’re going to nag him to death too?”
He moved around her to haul the drunk to his feet.
“You okay?” Dante asked from behind her.
He placed a protective hand on her waist and Nadia started at his touch. She covered it with a smile.
“I’m fine. Told you, I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.” Nadia winked at him and leaned down to pick up the microphone. She winced at the microphone backfeed and announced, “Hey, guys. We’re going to take a short bre
ak.”
Almost immediately, the jukebox roared back to life.
Hopping off the stage, she headed toward the bar with Dante trailing behind. He gave her a surprised look when she ordered a soft drink—
“What, you expected me to be a sot or something?” she asked. “I don’t drink much.” She leaned forward and whispered, “The stuff makes me crazy.”
Dante laughed. “I can’t imagine.”
Nadia took a sip of her soda and hopped back off the stool. Dante chuckled.
“What?” she demanded.
Dante scratched his chin and grinned. “Ah, nothing, princess. I was only wondering if you were even capable of sitting still for five minutes.”
“Nope. Come on, let’s dance. Ronnie steps on my feet, and Waynie … well, look.” She pointed to the dance floor. Waynie was swaying by himself to the song blaring from the jukebox, hilariously out of time with the music. He caught their stares and raised his glass in a toast.
Nadia lifted an eyebrow and said, “See what I mean?”
“Yeah, I do.” Dante’s brown eyes twinkled, and she didn’t need alcohol to make her feel tipsy. “But will you beat me up if I try to kiss you?”
“Hmmm.” She leaned in close, like she was going to kiss him, then pulled away. “I guess it depends on how nice you ask.”
“No fair,” he said, and let her lead him to the dance floor.
His big body dwarfed hers, and Nadia discovered she liked the feeling of him surrounding her.
Liked it a lot.
Being this close to Dante—touching him—left her shaky, a little unsure of herself. It was sensory overload. The soft skin that covered the hard slabs of muscle, the deep timbre of his voice, the wonderful scent of him. It was an intoxicating package.
Since he was so much taller, Nadia opted to wrap her arms around his waist and rest her face against his broad chest. One of Dante’s hands wound in her hair and the other caressed the bare skin on her upper back.
“It’s hard, dancing with the munchkin queen, huh, Dante?” Ronnie reached around them to grab a handful of peanuts from the bowl on the counter.
“Go away, Ronnie,” Nadia murmured, too content to even muster up a good insult.
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