Her Enemy Protector (19 page)

With a sigh, she gathered herself to head for the side of the pool. It was no use fighting her father. But Joe’s arms, which were loosely circling her, tightened, stopping her.

“Hey, Mr. Ferrare. Tell me something,” Joe asked casually. “Did you ever change Cari’s diapers when she was a baby?”

What was he up to
now?

Eduardo’s gaze snapped to Joe. “I beg your pardon?”

“You know, diapers. Nappies. Those cloth things you wrap around babies’ butts to catch the mess.”

“I know what diapers are,” Eduardo snapped. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, the way I see it, if you changed Cari’s diapers on a regular basis when she was a baby, you can probably make a decent argument for having a right to look at her rear end now. But if you weren’t a diaper kind of guy—and I have to say, Ed, you don’t strike me as the butt-wiping type—then I don’t think you have any business telling your daughter to get out of the pool and parade around in her birthday suit in front of you and your men.”

“I have every right!” Eduardo bellowed.

“No kidding?” Joe exclaimed. “I figured you wrong, man. You came across to me as big-time diaper-challenged. How old was Cari when she finally got potty-trained, anyway?”

“I wouldn’t have the slightest idea,” Eduardo half shouted. “And I didn’t change diapers!” he added forcefully. This last statement was blasted in the general direction of his men.

Joe tsk-tsked. “Big mistake, man. I’ve heard experts say it’s really important for fathers to do some of that day-to-day, care-for-their-kids stuff. Helps them, like, bond, you know? I figure it helps keep the mommies from going homicidal on the daddies, too.”

Eduardo stared down at them, as flummoxed as usual by Joe’s rambling conversational style, which always seemed to end up someplace outrageous.

Joe prattled on. “I thought maybe since her mother died when she was little, you might’ve pitched in with the whole diaper bit. How did your mother die, anyway, Cari?”

She blinked, startled at the abrupt change of topic and even more startled to be brought into this strange discussion. “Uh, she died of a broken neck,” she answered cautiously. This was traditionally a taboo subject in Eduardo’s household. Her mother’s name was never mentioned, let alone the manner of her death.

“A broken neck? Wow. That sucks. How’d that happen?” Joe looked around expectantly, first at her and then up at Eduardo. Yikes. No way would her father care to have that particular bit of dirty laundry aired for this madman in their midst.

On cue, her father blustered, “Somebody, go get a couple of towels, for God’s sake.”

As one of the thugs trotted off to play fetch, Joe called after him loudly, “And bring us some bathing suits, too!” Joe continued slightly more quietly to her father, “I’m going to assume Cari is finished with your meeting for the evening, and I’m not letting my wife flash anything at your men when she climbs out of the pool. Then we are retiring to our room, and I trust we won’t be disturbed again. I’m sure Cari represented you well this evening as your daughter. But tonight, she is my wife.”

Eduardo scowled, unsure of how this situation had spun so completely out of his control. He pivoted on his expensively clad heel and stomped inside, leaving her and Joe to the tender mercies of Gunter and crew.

While they all waited for towels and swimsuits to arrive, an awkward silence fell. Joe’s hand on the small of her back strayed lower, his fingers grazing the crevice defining the terminus of her spine. She gasped, startled. Whoa. Heretofore undiscovered erogenous-zone alert! And then his hand cupped her derriere gently, possessively, almost as if he were marking the spot as his and his alone. She exhaled softly, melting closer against him.

It was all a matter of intent. How Joe managed to convey such respect while cupping her behind, she had no idea, but there wasn’t the slightest doubt in her mind that he would never take advantage of her. In a strange way, his gentle caress wiped away the Slav’s minor invasion, sanctifying her, making everything okay again. She looked through her lashes at Joe, grateful yet again for his unfailing consideration of her.

He smiled down at her apologetically.

He had nothing to apologize for. He was a gentleman— with a capital
G.
It was an honor to be the object of his respect and caring. She didn’t deserve him. Once this whole mess was over, she’d give anything to be able to stay with him, to be his wife or, at least, his girlfriend in reality. But he’d never look twice at her.

Every now and then, she caught a glimpse of just how much Joe despised Eduardo and what he stood for. He couldn’t help but see her as an extension of her father. Why did she have to be Eduardo Ferrare’s daughter?

She reached up with one hand and laid her palm on his cheek. “You’re such a good man,” she murmured.

He snorted. “You said that before, and you’ve got to know that I’m a lot of things, but
good
surely isn’t one of them.”

“Then you’re not looking at yourself through my eyes,” she replied with conviction. “From where I stand, you’re practically sainthood material.”

He blinked at her, looking nearly as flummoxed as her father had just been. “You’re looking through rose-colored glasses, princess. Seeing what you want to see.”

“Then here’s to wearing those suckers forever,” she said.

“I’m the one who doesn’t deserve
you,
” he muttered back.

She’d just opened her mouth to deny the truth of his statement when Gunter spoke from beside the pool. “In answer to your earlier question, Mr. Smith, Cari was potty-trained for daytime when she was two-and-a-half years old and fully trained by her third birthday.”

Cari looked up at him, surprised. “How in the world do you know that?” she asked.

He gazed down at her, the expression in his eyes as close to human as any she’d ever seen. An infinitesimal smile cracked his lips. And then he shrugged, turning away.

“Son of a gun,” Joe breathed in her ear. “Who’d have guessed. Big G has a heart.”

Shock rendered her unable to reply. Gunter? He cared enough for her to remember details like that? But as she thought back, he did, indeed, treat her like his own daughter much of the time. Who’d have guessed, indeed?

Joe interrupted her stunned train of thought, murmuring in her ear, “You are one truly incredible lady. Spine of steel.”

“Who, me?” she blinked.

“Yeah, you. You blow me away. I’ve never seen anyone who can take a punch like you can. You roll with it and just get back on your feet and press on. You’re amazing.”

Her cheeks felt hot. Nobody had ever said anything remotely like that to her before. Ever. When he put it like that, she suddenly did feel strong and in charge of herself and her life. And wasn’t
that
a change from the status quo?

She glanced up at him. There it was again. That sense of shared, intimate understanding of one another. It was like having their own secret garden to retreat to in the midst of everyone else around them.

Finally, the towels and bathing suits arrived. She snagged the white one-piece suit that got tossed out to her and shimmied into it while she treaded water. It was a trick to do without drowning herself. Joe pulled on a pair of baggy surfing shorts beside her and then helped her untwist the straps across her back.

Although their entire swim probably took less than ten minutes, it felt like she’d been in this water for an eternity. It was so nice to finally climb out of the pool—clothed. Gunter held a big beach towel out to her and she smiled shyly at him. He ducked his head, embarrassed, and looked away as she took the big cloth and wrapped it around herself.

Tucking in the free end over her bosom, she murmured, “Thanks, Gunter. You’re the best.”

He nodded and turned away without making eye contact with her. Well, weren’t the macho images just toppling left and right tonight?

“Let’s go, princess. I swear, when we get to our room, I’m locking the door and not letting anyone in for a week!”

“Sounds like a great plan to me,” she agreed as Joe looped his arm around her shoulders.

They didn’t see her father on the way upstairs. No doubt, he was busy pondering his lack of bonding with his daughters because of his failure to wipe their bottoms as babies. She bit back a grin. Where did Joe come up with that stuff?

Never in her entire life had she seen anyone manage to turn Eduardo inside out and tie him in knots like Joe did. It was a gift.

Gunter escorted them upstairs and let them inside with a quiet admonition. “Stay inside at night from now on.”

Joe grinned at the security man. “Can I quote you on that?”

Gunter’s gaze flickered over to her. “Keep her safe, eh?”

Joe’s voice shifted, taking on a tone she didn’t hear often outside of this room. One of deadly seriousness. “With my life.”

Gunter nodded as if the two of them had just come to some huge understanding. Must be some sort of guy thing. Passing the torch for the care and feeding of the weak, needy female. She rolled her eyes and stepped into the room.

While Joe did, in fact, lock the door securely, she turned off the lights. All of them. It had suddenly hit her that Joe had seen what had happened in her father’s office. He’d witnessed the Slav’s disgusting suggestions as well as her father’s response. It had been so personal. So…degrading. And she didn’t want to talk about it, thank you very much!

In an effort to distract him, she said, “I need a shower. To get the chlorine from our swim out of my hair. Join me?”

Joe glanced at the bathroom and then back at her. The understanding that she wanted to talk and didn’t want to be overheard dawned on his face.

He nodded crisply but drawled easily, “You got it, baby. I’ll scrub your back if you’ll scrub mine.”

“Deal.”

When the bathroom door was securely closed and the water running full steam, Joe turned to her. “What’s up?”

“I thought you might be interested in exactly what it was my father was buying tonight.”

“He’s buying something?”

She leaned her hip against the blue granite counter and crossed her arms. “Yup. Information.”

Joe cocked a questioning eyebrow.

“Turns out the Slavic jerk has access to his country’s intelligence documents. And the South African guy buys information from a spy satellite the South African government still has in orbit. I don’t know where the other two get their stuff from, but they’re information brokers, too.”

“Okay, I’ll bite. What’s your old man trying so hard to get his mitts on?”

She paused for a moment to let the dramatic tension build.

“Well?” Joe prompted.

“He’s buying the names and home addresses of everyone on Charlie Squad.”

Joe lurched up off the toilet, where he was seated. “What?”

“I said—”

“I heard you the first time. Tell me everything he said.”

She shrugged. “There wasn’t much to hear. My father offered a million dollars to the first man to bring him the complete roster of Charlie Squad operators and where they live.”

“And what’s he planning to do with that information?” Joe snapped.

“I have no idea. The South African asked the same thing in a roundabout way, and in just as roundabout a way, my father told him to mind his own business.”

Joe unleashed a long string of profanities. “I’ve got to get that camera back.”

“What camera?” she asked, confused.

“The one I used to take pictures of all your father’s guests. I hid it under the bushes below your balcony when I thought your father’s men were going to shoot me.”

The thought of him taking a bullet made her shudder.

Joe was speaking again. “Did you catch their names?”

She nodded.

“The first order of business is to relay this information to some friends of mine who’ll know what to do with it.”

That was interesting. He didn’t come right out and name himself a member of Charlie Squad, nor did he acknowledge the existence of the squad by so much as a flicker of an eyelash.

“Have you got any ideas on how I could send out a message without it being intercepted?” he asked.

“I can modify your cell phone. Tighten up the transmission frequency and change it so the regular scans Gunter uses won’t pick it up. Would that work?” she asked.

He nodded. “Especially after I get the camera back. I’ll send the pictures digitally over my phone.”

“Let’s go get the camera now,” she said eagerly, already thinking about how to change up his phone.

He laughed. “Slow down, honey. We won’t get an inch outside this room for the rest of the night without a horde of your father’s men landing on us. Maybe tomorrow.”

She deflated rapidly. He was right. Apparently, the adrenaline still surging through her after their close encounter in the pool had left some sort of residue in its wake. An afterglow of wildness that was tearing at her for release.

“Besides,” Joe continued, “I’m exhausted. Go ahead and grab a shower. I’ll wait for you in the bedroom.”

As Cari took a quick shower and dried her hair, she doubted Joe’s supposed fatigue. He just didn’t want her coming on to him. She
knew
he was attracted to her, but why wouldn’t he do anything about it? Obvious answer: work. He felt a need to be on guard all the time. All she had to do was get him to relax. Let down his hair for a little while and then his real feelings would come through and he would finally get around to making love to her! It was worth a try, at any rate. She couldn’t take too much more of this frustration.

When she left the bathroom, Joe was surfing TV channels. He stopped on a music video station and turned it up loud. And then he reached for the bed covers, which had been remade from where he’d ripped them up earlier. Cari bet a maid had been sent in to repair the damage while she and Joe were trapped in the pool.

She never could get used to the total lack of privacy in her father’s home—the way others came in and out of her room, manhandling her possessions as if they were public property. Yet another reason to get out of here as soon as possible.

Joe invited her with a sweep of the hand to climb in. And, shockingly, she was okay with doing just that. Maybe it was the knowledge that this was a new mattress. Or maybe it was Joe’s comforting presence. But whatever it was, she was actually going to sleep in her bed again! Exultation at the victory filled her. It was a small thing—stupid, really—but she’d overcome her fears. And
that
was huge.