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Authors: Diana Palmer

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BOOK: Her Kind of Hero
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7

C
allie felt her heart go cold at the words. She'd been through so much herself that she'd forgotten briefly that Jack Steele was in danger, too. Micah had said that Pogo and Maddie would watch over him, but obviously he still had fears.

“You don't think he'll be safe with your people?” she asked worriedly.

“Not if Lopez gets his act together,” he said coolly. “Which is why I've had Bojo send him a message in the clear, rubbing it in that I took you away from him.”

She felt uneasy. “Isn't that dangerous, with a man like Lopez?”

“Very,” he agreed. “But if he's concentrating on me, he's less likely to expend his energy on Dad. Right?”

“Right,” she agreed. “What do you want me to do?”

He lowered his eyes to his coffee cup and lifted it to his chiseled mouth. “You do whatever you like. You're here as my guest.”

She frowned. “I don't need a holiday, Micah.”

“You're getting one, regardless. Today you can go shopping with Lisse. Tomorrow, I'll take you sight-seeing, if you like.”

“Is it safe?”

He chuckled. “We won't be alone,” he pointed out. “I intend taking Bojo and Peter and Rodrigo along with us.”

“Oh.”

“Disappointed?” he asked with faint arrogance. “Would you rather be alone with me, on a deserted beach?”

She glared at him. “You stop that.”

“Spoilsport. You do rise to the bait so beautifully.” He leaned back in his chair and the humor left his eyes. “Bojo's going with you to Nassau. Buy what you like, but make sure you don't bring home low-cut blouses and short-shorts or short skirts. There aren't any other women on this island, except a couple of married middle-aged island women who live with their husbands and families. I don't want anything to divert the men's attention with Lopez on the loose.”

“I don't wear suggestive clothing,” she pointed out.

“You do around me,” he said flatly. “Considering last night's showing, I thought the warning might be appropriate.”

“I was drugged!” she repeated, flushing.

“I don't mind if you show your body to me,” he continued, as if she hadn't spoken. “I enjoy looking at it. But I'm not sharing the sight. Besides, for the next week or two, you're my sister. I don't want anyone speculating about our exact relationship.”

“Why? Because of your friend Lisette?” she asked bitterly.

“Exactly,” he said with a poker face. “Lisette and I are lovers,” he added bluntly. “The last thing I need is a jealous tug-of-war in a crisis.”

She caught her breath audibly. It was cruel of him to say such a thing. Or maybe he was being cruel to be kind, making sure that she didn't get her hopes up.

She lifted her head with postured arrogance. “That's wishful thinking,” she said firmly. “I know you're terribly disappointed that I haven't proposed, but you'd better just deal with it.”

For an instant he looked shocked, then he laughed. It occurred to him that he'd never laughed as much in his life as he had with her, especially the past couple of days. Considering the life or death situation they'd been in, it was even more incredible. Callie was a real mate under fire. He'd heard stories about wives of retired mercs walking right into fire with their husbands. He'd taken them with a grain of salt until he'd seen Callie in a more desperate situation than any of those wives had ever been in.

“You made me proud, in Cancún,” he said after a minute. “Really proud. If we had campfires, you're the sort of woman we'd build into legend around them.”

She flushed. “Like Maddie?”

“Maddie's never been in the situation you were in,” he said somberly. “I don't even know another woman who has. Despite the nightmares, you held up as well as any man I've ever served with.”

She smiled slowly. “A real compliment, wow,” she murmured. “If you'll write all that down, I'll have it notarized and hang it behind my desk. Mr. Kemp will be very impressed.”

He glowered at her. “Kemp's more likely to hang you on the wall beside it. You're wasted in a law office.”

“I love what I do,” she protested. “I dig out little details that save lives and careers. Law isn't dry and boring, it's alive. It's history.”

“It's a job in a little hick Texas town while you'll eventually dry up and blow away like a sun-scorched creosote bush.”

She searched his dark eyes. “That's how it felt to you, I know. You never liked living in Jacobsville. But I'm not like you,” she added softly. “I want a neat little house with a flower garden and neighbors to talk to over the fence, and a couple of children.” Her face softened as she thought about it. “Not right away, of course. But someday.”

“Just the thought of marriage gives me chest pain,” he said with veiled contempt. “More often than not, a woman marries for money and a man marries for sex. What difference does a sheet of paper with signatures make?”

“If you have to ask, you wouldn't understand the answer,” she said simply. “I guess you don't want kids.”

He frowned. He'd never thought about having kids. It was one of those “someday” things he didn't give much time to. He studied Callie and pictured her again with a baby in her arms. It was surprisingly nice.

“It would be hard to carry a baby through jungle undergrowth with a rifle under one arm,” she answered her own question. “And in your line of work, I don't suppose leaving a legacy to children is much of a priority.”

He averted his head. “I expect to spend what I make while I'm still alive,” he said.

She looked out over the bay, her eyes narrowing in the glare of the sunlight. The casuarinas lining the beach were towering and their feathery fronds waved gracefully in the breeze that always blew near the water. Flowers bloomed everywhere. The sand was like sugar, white and picturesque.

“It's like a living travel poster,” she remarked absently. “I've
never seen water that color except in postcards, and I thought it was just a bad color job.”

“There are places in the Pacific and the Caribbean like it,” he told her. He glanced toward the pier as he heard the sound of a motor. “There's Lisse,” he said. “Come and be introduced.”

She got up and followed along behind him, feeling like a puppy that couldn't be left alone. As she watched, a gorgeous blonde in a skimpy yellow sundress with long legs and long hair let Micah help her onto the pier. Unexpectedly he jerked her against him and kissed her so passionately that Callie flushed and looked away in embarrassment. He was obviously terrified that she might read something into last night, so he was making his relationship with Lisse very plain.

A few minutes later, Micah put something into Lisse's hand and spoke softly to her. Lisse laughed breathily and said something that Callie couldn't hear. Micah took the blonde by the hand and led her down the pier to where Callie was waiting at a respectful distance.

Up close, the blonde had a blemishless complexion and perfect teeth. She displayed them in a smile that would do credit to a supermodel, which was what the woman really looked like.

“I'm Lisette Dubonnet, but everyone calls me Lisse,” she introduced herself and held out a hand to firmly shake Callie's.

“I'm Callie…” she began.

“My sister,” Micah interrupted, obviously not trusting her to play along. “She's taking a holiday from her job in Texas. I want you to help her buy some leisure wear. Her suitcase didn't arrive with her.”

“Oh,” Lisse said, and laughed. “I've had that happen. I know
just
how you feel. Well, shall we go? Micah, are you coming with us?”

Micah shook his head. “I've got things to do here, but Bojo wants to come along, if you don't mind. He has to check on a package his brother is sending over from Georgia.”

“He's perfectly welcome,” Lisse said carelessly. “Come along, Callie. Callie…what a pretty name. A little rare, I should say.”

“It's short for Colleen,” Callie told her, having to almost run to keep up with the woman's long strides.

“We'll go downtown in Nassau. There are lots of chic little boutiques there. I'm sure we can find something that will do for you.”

“You're very kind…”

Lisse held up an imperative hand as they reached the boat she'd just disembarked from. “It's no bother. Micah never speaks of you. Did he have you hidden in a closet or something?”

“We don't get along very well,” Callie formulated. It was the truth, too, mostly.

“And that's very odd. Micah gets along wonderfully with most women.”

“But then you're not related to him,” Callie pointed out, just managing to clamber aboard the boat before the line was untied by Bojo, who was already there and waiting to leave.

“No, thank God I'm not.” Lisse laughed. Even her laugh was charming. “I'd kill myself. Hurry up, Bojo, Dad and I have to go to an embassy ball tonight, so I'm pressed for time!”

“I am coming, mademoiselle!” he said with a grin and leaped down into the boat.

“Let's go, Marchand!” she called to the captain, who replied respectfully and turned the expensive speedboat back into the bay and headed it toward Nassau.

“We could postpone this trip, if you don't have time,” Callie offered.

“Not necessary,” Lisse said. “I'll have less time later on. I try to do anything Micah asks me to. He's always
so
grateful,” she added in a purring tone.

And I can just imagine what form that takes, Callie thought, but she didn't say it. Even so, Bojo heard their conversation, caught Callie's eye, and grinned so wickedly that she cleared her throat and asked Lisse about the history of Nassau to divert her.

 

Nassau was bustling with tourists. The colorful straw market at the docks was doing a booming business, and fishing boats rocked gently on the waves made by passing boats. Seagulls made passes at the water and flew gracefully past the huge glass windows of the restaurant that sat right on the bay. It was beautiful. Just beautiful. Callie, who'd never been anywhere—well, except for the road trip to Cancún with the drug lord's minions while she was unconscious—thought it was pure delight.

“Don't gawk like a tourist, darling,” Lisse scoffed as they made their way past the fishing boats and into an arcade framed in an antique stone arch covered in bougainvillea. “It's only Nassau.”

But Callie couldn't help it. She loved the musical accents she caught snatches of as they strolled past shops featuring jewelry with shell motifs and handcrafts from all over Europe, not to mention dress shops and T-shirt shops galore. She loved the stone pathways and the flowers that bloomed everywhere. They went past a food stand and her nose wrinkled.

“I thought I smelled liquor,” she said under her breath.

“You did,” Lisse said nonchalantly, waving her painted fingernails in the general direction of the counter. “You can buy any sort of alcoholic drink you want at any of these food stands.”

“It's legal?”

“Of course it's legal. Haven't you been anywhere?”

Callie smiled sheepishly. “Not really. Now this is the sort of shop I need,” she said suddenly, stopping at a store window displaying sundresses, jeans and T-shirts and sneakers. It also displayed the cards it accepted, and Callie had one of them. “I'll only be a minute…”

“Darling, not there!” Lisse lamented. “It's one of those cheap touristy shops! Micah wants you to use his charge card. I've got it in my pocket. He wants you to wear things that won't embarrass him.” She put her fingers over her mouth. “Oh, dear, I forgot, I wasn't to tell you that he said that.” She grimaced. “Well, anyway…”

“Well, anyway,” Callie interrupted, following Lisse's lead, “this is where I'm shopping, with
my
card. You can wait or come in. Suit yourself.”

She turned and left Lisse standing there with her mouth gaping, and she didn't care. The woman was horrible!

After she'd tried on two pairs of jeans, two sundresses, a pair of sandals, one of sneakers and four T-shirts, she felt guilty for the way she'd talked to Micah's woman. But Lisse was hard-going, especially after that kiss she'd witnessed. It had hurt right to the bone, and Lisse's condescending, snappy attitude didn't endear her to Callie, either.

She came back out of the shop with two bags. “Thank you very much. I'd like to go back to the house, now,” she told Lisse, and she didn't smile.

Lisse made a moue with her perfect mouth. “I've hurt your feelings. I'm sorry. But Micah told me what to do. He'll be furious with me now.”

What a pity. She didn't say it. “He can be furious with me,” Callie said, walking ahead of Lisse back the way they'd come. “I buy my own clothes and pay my own way. I'm not a helpless parasite. I don't need a man to buy things for me.”

BOOK: Her Kind of Hero
4.72Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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