PALADIN'S WOMAN

by Beverly Barton

  "The food's not bad," he said. "And the company is—entertaining." He looked around the table where children of various sizes and sexes were munching on their sandwiches, slurping their soup and loudly sipping their milk.

  "If you'd care to stay for nap time, I'll let you read them a story." Addy couldn't help noticing how totally at ease Nick seemed, crouched there in the middle of so many toddlers. Many men, especially hard-edged military types, would have been nervous, even wary, around small children.

  A little brown-eyed girl sitting beside Nick looked at him and smiled. When he smiled back, she held up her unopened milk carton.

  "I can't get it open," she said, handing the milk to Nick.

  He took the carton, pulled apart the spout and returned the open container. "Here you go."

  Just as the little girl's fingers tightened around the carton, the boy sitting next to her lost his balance on his stool and fell over on her. The milk sloshed out of the open container and splattered across Nick Romero's pale blue shirt.

  Stunned, Addy watched the milk soak into Nick's clothing. She jumped up, rushing over to where the little girl sat crying.

  "It's all right," Nick tried to assure the child. "It's just milk. It'll wash out."

  "I didn't mean to do it," the child wailed when Addy crouched down beside her. "It was Barry's fault!"

  "Stop crying, honey. Mr. Romero isn't angry." Addy motioned for one of her assistants, a heavyset, matronly lady, to take charge of the children at the table.

  As soon as the assistant had lined up the three-year-olds and ushered them into another room for nap time, Addy turned to Nick. "You'd better come into my office and get out of that wet shirt. Lucky for you we have a washer and dryer, so we can clean you up in a few minutes."

  "I take it by your calm manner that accidents like this are a daily occurrence." Nick grinned when she gave him a you've-got-to-be-kidding look.

  "Accidents like this are an hourly occurrence, sometimes more often than that. We're dealing with preschoolers here."

  Nick followed Addy into her small, cheerful office. She closed the door and turned to him. "Take off your shirt." She held out her hand.

  He looked at her outstretched hand, then up into her sparkling green eyes. "Just what I like, a forceful woman."

  Letting her hand drop to her side, Addy willed herself not to blush. "Nick…"

  He began unbuttoning his shirt, very slowly. Addy steeled herself against her body's reaction. She refused to look away shyly. Nick would know for sure that the sight of his naked chest excited her.

  "I'm afraid I don't have anything large enough for you to put on while we're washing and drying your shirt. I could send someone over to Daddy's office for one of his shirts." Addy tried to concentrate on Nick's face, focusing her attention on the glittering diamond stud in his ear. But when he pushed his shirt apart and tugged it out from beneath his belted slacks, her gaze traveled downward to the wide expanse of darkly tanned, thickly muscled chest.

  "I'll be fine. It's warm in here." Removing his shirt, he handed it to her.

  She grabbed the shirt quickly, but couldn't keep herself from staring at his chest. He was magnificent. Big. Manly. A thick matting of black hair covered his chest from nipple to nipple, a thin dark line trailing down to his navel and beyond. Addy didn't think she'd ever seen anything quite so sexy.

  "Sit down. I'll put this in to wash and be right back." She opened the door, grateful for the excuse to escape.

  "Addy?"

  She stopped, but didn't turn around. "Yes?"

  "I don't suppose you've got a cup of coffee in this place, do you?" He sat down on the lavender gingham cushion padding her chair.

  "I—I'll bring you some."

  "Thanks."

  Leaning back in the wooden swivel desk chair, Nick slipped his hands into his pants pockets. He hadn't been blind to Addy's reaction when he'd removed his shirt. He liked the idea that just looking at him had turned her on. Sex was always better when both parties were equally aroused, and despite what Addy thought of herself Nick had no doubts that she would be one of the hottest women he'd ever bedded.

  "What do you mean you don't have it?" a loud masculine voice demanded.

  Nick sat up straight, listening. He glanced at the slightly ajar door that led to the small hallway separating Addy's office from the main playroom. He eased himself out of the chair. Leaving his cane against the wall, Nick clung to the side of the desk as he made his way closer to the door.

  "I mean I don't have it!" Janice Dixon hissed. "How could I ask Addy for another loan right now when she and Uncle Rusty are half out of their minds worrying about the kidnapping? It would look rather strange, don't you think?"

  "Maybe you're right, but we've got to figure out something. I've got to have that two thousand soon or I could wind up as dead as Addy's kidnapper."

  "Ron, I'm scared. What if the police question you, and they just might, considering your background?"

  Nick hobbled away from the desk, grabbing a chair near the door to steady himself. Peeking through the narrow opening, he saw the back of Janice Dixon's ripe little body. Ron Glover, tall and dark, faced her.

  "They've got nothing on me, sugar. I was nowhere near Addy McConnell Friday night until long after the kidnapping, and nobody can trace me to the guy who fell off Monsano Mountain." Ron reached out, circling Janice's neck with his hand, pulling her closer. "See what you can do about getting me the money."

  "Shhh! Don't talk so loud. Nick Romero is in Addy's office." Placing her fingertips over Ron's mouth, Janice nodded.

  "What? Why the hell didn't you tell me?" Ron's voice lowered to a whisper. "That guy's bad news, Jannie!"

  "He can't hurt you, Ron."

  "That's right, sugar. No two-bit, crippled, ex-DEA agent is a match for me." He lowered his head, taking Janice's eager mouth.

  Just as Ron kissed Janice, Addy rounded the corner, a mug of steaming black coffee in her hand. The minute Nick saw her, he hobbled back across her office and sat down behind her desk.

  "Hello, Addy," Ron said. "Hope you don't mind me stopping by to see my girl."

  "Janice's personal life is her own business," Addy said, then walked past the couple, pushed open the door and went into her office.

  Addy set the coffee mug down on her desk in front of Nick. "There's sweetener and creamer inside the top drawer on the left."

  "I take it black, remember?"

  "I didn't remember. Why should I?"

  "No reason." He smiled. "Thanks anyway."

  Sitting down in the maple Boston rocker a few feet from her desk, near the corner by the windows, Addy began rocking back and forth. "As soon as your shirt is ready, you can leave and get back to playing detective."

  "I've been playing detective right here in your office."

  "Oh? How's that?"

  "By eavesdropping." He picked up the mug she'd set before him.

  "On Ron and Janice, no doubt."

  "They were having a very interesting conversation about money." Nick put the mug to his lips, sipping the dark rich coffee.

  "It's no secret that Janice supports Ron, and I know that several loans I've given her have been for him." Addy stopped rocking. "I've tried to make her see what a sleaze-ball he is, but she refuses to listen to reason. She's crazy about him."

  "Yeah, well, love can make people do strange things."

  "Are you an expert on love?"

  "Hardly, but I've been around enough to know that people who think they're in love can do some pretty stupid things. Take your cousin Janice. If she's that hung up on Glover, she might be persuaded to do anything he asks of her."

  "Like helping him plot my kidnapping. Is that what you're saying?"

  "Like I told you earlier today, Red, don't trust anyone except your father and me." Nick hated throwing suspicion on Addy's cousin. It was obvious the two women were genuinely found of each other. But if Ron Glover did have Janice completely under his control, she could be dangero
us to Addy.

  "I can't believe—" The jarring ring of the telephone cut off the rest of Addy's comment.

  Nick glanced at the white phone sitting atop the desk. "Want me to answer it?"

  Addy jumped up, quickly making her way to the phone. "Hello, M.A.C. Day Care. Addy McConnell speaking. May I help you?"

  A muffled masculine voice said, "If you know what's good for you, you'll tell your daddy to follow my instructions."

  The color drained from Addy's cheeks and her eyes widened. "What did you say? Who is this?"

  "What's wrong?" Nick asked.

  "Unless I get what I want, accidents could start happening," the voice said.

  "Accidents? What sort of accidents?" Addy's fingers tightened around the receiver.

  Standing, Nick retrieved his cane and walked around the desk to stand beside Addy. "Give me the phone."

  "It would be terrible if something happened to you. You can't be protected from everything. What if a bomb were planted at the day care? Not only would you get blown into a zillion pieces, but so would all those little kiddies. Tell your daddy that I'll be in touch soon." The sinister voice on the phone snickered several times before hanging up.

  Addy trembled, her heartbeat accelerating. When she tried to replace the receiver, her hand shook so badly she almost dropped the telephone. Nick grabbed her by the shoulder, turning her to face him. He could tell by the glazed look in her eyes and the deadly pallor of her normally golden complexion that the caller's message had frightened her badly.

  "Come on, Red, tell me what that was all about."

  She stared at him, and for one split second she wanted to scream. "It—it was a man." Addy looked into Nick's black eyes, eyes filled with genuine concern. "His voice was muffled … like he was talking through cloth or something."

  Nick tightened his hold on her shoulder. "What did he say?"

  "He warned me that, if Daddy doesn't follow his instructions, he'll get to me somehow, even if— Oh, Nick, he said that something could happen here at the day-care center … that a bomb could explode, that—" Addy choked back tears and blinked several times in an effort not to cry, but the thought of anything happening to her precious children played havoc with her emotions.

  "My God!" Nick pulled her into his arms, stroking her back with one hand. Resting his cane against the desk, he cradled her head with the palm of his other hand. "If this was no idle threat, then we're dealing with a madman."

  Addy snuggled against Nick, knowing she was safe. The warm masculinity of his hairy chest sent a current of desire spiraling through her. She laid her head on his naked shoulder. She couldn't explain her reaction to this man. He was practically a stranger, a man who made no secret of the fact that he was a ladies' man, and yet she trusted him. Held within the comforting security of his strong arms, she realized that Nick Romero would indeed protect her at all costs.

  He was her paladin.

  "Oh, Nick." She swallowed the tears, refusing to give in to the overwhelming urge to cry. "The voice said that he'd be in touch with Daddy and give him his instructions!"

  "Whatever's going on here is more complicated than any of us thought." He grabbed Addy's chin in one big hand and tilted it upward, forcing her to face him directly. "I swear that we'll catch this man, whoever he is."

  Tears caught in her throat making it impossible for her to reply immediately. She simply stared at Nick, trying to convey what she felt in the expression on her face. Her eyes, moist with unshed tears, softened with tenderness, and she forced a weak smile.

  "Trust me to take care of you, Red." Nothing had ever been so important to him. He wanted her trust. He wanted to make her feel safe and protected.

  "I trust you, Nick. With my life if not with my heart." She reached up, placing her hand on his cheek.

  He covered her hand with his own, brought it to his lips and kissed her palm. "I don't want to break your heart, Addy, but I'm beginning to think that you just might break mine."

  She clung to him unashamedly, absorbing his strength, his raw masculine power. "Oh, Nick, what are we going to do?"

  It hurt him deeply to see her like this, so vulnerable and unsure. With a possessiveness he knew only with this woman, he lowered his lips to hers. "I won't let anyone hurt you. No matter what I have to do, I'll protect you." He covered her mouth with his, sealing his promise with a kiss that claimed ownership.

  * * *

  Chapter 6

  « ^ »

  Addy slipped the navy blue dress over her head. Zipping it quickly, she turned face her image in the cheval mirror. She looked … presentable. Not strikingly beautiful, not sexy and desirable, but neat and well-groomed. So what difference does it make? she asked herself. Over the past seven years since her divorce, she'd learned to appreciate her ordinary appearance—her plain face and thin body. But in the five days since she'd known Nick Romero, he had undermined her contentment, making her long for the kind of beauty men appreciated.

  Sitting down on the edge of her pencil-post bed, Addy picked up her sedate navy pumps off the Oriental carpet and slid her feet into them. She stretched one of her long legs out in front of her, scrutinizing the shape and length. Her legs weren't bad; they just might be her best feature. Dammit! Stop doing this to yourself. She hadn't felt so insecure about her looks since she'd been married to Gerald, who'd taken every available opportunity to remind her of how inadequate she was. But Nick had never once implied that he found her less than attractive. Indeed, his every word, his every action, had suggested the opposite.

  Last Saturday night, when they'd known each other for only twenty-four hours, Nick had held her in front of the foyer mirror and practically made love to her, forcing her to face herself, to see herself as an aroused and sensuous woman. She had tried all week to erase that memory from her mind, but she couldn't forget how she'd felt or the way she'd looked. She had been beautiful in those moments of passion. Nick's praise and adoration had made her beautiful.

  But Nick Romero was a temporary fixture in her life, a man who, once the kidnapping threat ended, would leave her life as quickly as he had entered it. No matter how he made her feel, she couldn't risk letting him break her heart. He'd made it perfectly clear that he wasn't averse to having an affair with her, and she'd made it equally clear that she wasn't interested. She could handle friendships with men; however, a sexual relationship was taboo unless the man in question could prove his love for her. Only a man who loved her would be patient and understanding, helping her overcome her deficiencies as a woman. Only a man who truly loved her wouldn't give a damn about her daddy's millions.

  Addy glanced at the colorful flowered scarf lying on her dressing table. She'd bought the scarf in a moment of weakness, thinking it would brighten up some of her drab outfits. But she'd never worn it. It was too flashy.

  Picking up her delicate gold watch out of her small jewelry case, Addy focused on the row of violets sitting atop the pine chest of drawers. She smiled, remembering how for the past three days the florist delivery boy had brought her a large container of violets, each with a small lavender and white ribbon. No card had been included, but she knew who'd sent them. Each day she'd brought the violets home with her, and Nick hadn't said a word. But she knew they were from him. Laughing, Addy fingered the velvety softness of one tiny leaf. No wonder Nick was so popular with the ladies. He was a romantic. Most men sent red roses. Roses were pretty standard, but only a man who really understood women would take the time to choose a flower that matched a woman's personality. She supposed Nick saw her as a shrinking violet. Or was there another meaning behind the flower he'd chosen for her?

  She heard the rap of Nick's cane as he walked down the hallway from his bedroom to hers. Without giving any more thought to the matter, Addy grabbed the large, colorful scarf and draped it across her right shoulder.

  Nick stopped in the open doorway, surveying Addy from head to toe. Damn, he wished her outer garments were half as sexy as her lingerie. At least the scar
f added a touch of color to the plain navy dress. He wondered what had prompted her to act so impulsively. In the five days he'd known her, not once had Addy worn anything stylish, colorful or alluring—except her lingerie. He hadn't seen her sleeping attire every night, but on the nights that he had, she'd worn frothy concoctions that took his breath away.

  "It's almost seven-thirty." He stepped just inside her open doorway. "Time to leave."

  Smiling, Addy turned to face Nick. "Try to be cordial to Jim if you see him today, and at least be civil to Ron when he picks up Janice."

  "I'm having a more complete check done on Glover. From what my contacts have already found out, he's more than capable of plotting your kidnapping, and he's just the type to use threats."

  "Do you think he's capable of murder? After all, the person behind my kidnapping has already killed once." Addy walked over to Nick and the two stepped outside into the hallway. "If I thought Janice was in danger—I mean, if Ron is really—"

  Nick put his arm around Addy's waist, giving her a reassuring hug. He couldn't tell her that there was a possibility that Janice, so enamored of a hood like Glover, was actually his accomplice. Of course, both Ron and Janice could also be completely innocent. "I don't think Janice is in any danger, whether or not Glover is the kidnapper. He'd have no reason to harm her."

  Together they descended the stairs, Addy slowing her stride to accommodate Nick's limp. His big hand stayed on her waist, warm and reassuring. She liked it when Nick touched her, even casually, and he'd touched her often in the last few days, despite her coolness toward him. There had been no more kisses, and Addy knew she should be grateful. Nick's kisses were lethal.

  He escorted her outside to his Jag, opening the door and helping her into the seat. Before starting the car, he turned to her. "You look lovely."

  Swallowing hard, Addy stared directly at Nick, wishing her heart would stop beating so rapidly. "It's the shawl. It adds color to—"

  "It's not the damned shawl." Nick revved the motor, his big hands clutching the steering wheel. "It's you, Addy. You're lovely."