Her Kind of Hero (18 page)

He smiled as he bent and kissed her eyelids shut. “Wouldn't you?” he whispered. “If I insisted?”

“I'd hate you,” she bit off, knowing that she wouldn't. She loved him endlessly.

“Yes, you might,” he said after a minute. “And that's the last thing I want.”

“Micah!” Lisse's voice came again, from even farther down the hall.

“Sit. Stay,” Callie whispered impishly.

He bit her lower lip and growled deep in his throat. “She insisted on lunch. I compromised. Kiss me again.” His mouth drifted lazily over hers.

She did kiss him, because she had no willpower when it came to this. She loved being in his arms, being held by him. She loved him!

After a minute he lifted his head and put her down, with obvious reluctance. “We'd better go before she starts opening doors,” he said in a husky tone.

“Would she?” she asked, curious.

“She has before,” he confessed with a wry grin. He brushed
back her hair with exquisite tenderness. His eyes held an expression she'd never seen in them. “You look like I've been making love to you,” he whispered with a faint smile. “Better fix your face before you come out.”

She reached up and touched his swollen mouth with wonder. She was still trying to make herself believe that he'd dragged her in here and kissed her so hungrily. There was something in the back of her mind, something disturbing. She couldn't grasp it. But the most amazing thing was the tenderness he was showing her. It made her breathless.

His lean hand spread against her cheek. His thumb parted her lips as he bent again, as if he couldn't help himself. He kissed her softly, savoring the trembling response of her lips.

“Micah!”
Lisse was outside, almost screeching now.

He lifted his head again with a long sigh. “I need to take you out in the boat and drop anchor five miles out,” he said heavily. He tapped her nose. “Okay, let's go see if everything's cold before Lisse loses her voice.”

He opened the door, checking to see if the coast was clear. “Fix your face,” he whispered with a wicked grin and closed the door behind him.

She heard his footsteps moving toward the dining room. Two minutes later, staccato heels made an angry sound passing the bathroom door.

“Micah…!”

“I'm in the dining room, Lisse! Where were you? I've been looking everywhere!”

He was good at improvising, Callie thought as she repaired the damage to her face. She combed her hair with a comb from a tray on the vanity table and wondered at the change in her re
lationship with Micah. He was very different. He acted as if she'd become suddenly important to him, and not in a conventional way. She couldn't help smiling. It was as if her whole life had changed.

She went back into the kitchen and put everything on the table, after checking that the steak had kept warm on the back of the stove. It had.

Micah got up and set a third place at the table, giving Callie a deliberate look. “You eat in here with us,” he said firmly, ignoring Lisse's glare.

“Okay.” She put out the last of the food, and butter for the rolls, and sat down. “Micah, will you say grace?” she added.

“Grace?”
Lisse's beautiful face widened into shock.

Micah flashed her a disapproving glance and said a brief prayer. He was digging into the food while Lisse, in her gold-trimmed white pantsuit, was still gaping.

“We're very conventional at home,” Callie pointed out.

“And traditional,” Micah added. “Tradition is important for families.”

“But you don't have a family, really, darling,” Lisse protested. She helped herself to a couple of forkfuls of salad and a hint of dressing. “Rolls? Thousands of calories, darling, especially with butter!” she told Micah.

“Callie made them for me, from scratch,” he said imperturbably. He bit into one and smiled. “These are good,” he said.

Callie shrugged. “It's the only thing I do really well. My mother couldn't boil water.” That had slipped out and she looked horrified as she met Micah's eyes.

“I think Micah could do very well without hearing about your tramp of a mother, dear,” Lisse said haughtily. “He's suffered
enough at her hands already. Who was it she threw you over for, darling, that British earl?”

“She didn't throw me over,” Micah said through his teeth.

“But she was staying here with you last year…?”

Callie's eyes exploded. She got up, throwing down her napkin. “Is that true?” she demanded.

“It is, but not the way you're assuming it is,” he said flatly. “Callie, there's something you need to know.”

She turned and walked out of the room.

“What the hell was that in aid of?” Micah demanded of Lisse, with real anger.

“You keep secrets, don't you?” she asked with cold delight. “It's dangerous. And she isn't really your sister, either. I got that out of Bojo. You've even slept with her, haven't you, darling?” she added venomously.

Micah threw down his own napkin and got to his feet.
“Bojo!”
he yelled.

The tall Berber came rushing into the room. His boss never raised his voice!

Micah was almost vibrating with rage. “See Lisse back to Nassau. She won't be coming here again,” he added with ice dropping from every syllable.

Lisse put down her fork and wiped her mouth before she got leisurely to her feet. She gave him a cool look. “You use people,” she accused quietly. “It's always what
you
want, what
you
need. You manipulate, you control, you…use. I loved you,” she added in a husky undertone. “But you didn't care. I was handy and good in bed, and that was what mattered to you. When you didn't want me so much anymore, you threw me out. I was only invited over here this time so that you could show your house
guest that she wasn't the only egg in your basket.” She gave him a cold smile. “So how does it feel to be on the receiving end for once, Micah? It's your turn. I wish, I really wish, I could stick around to see the result. She doesn't look like the forgiving sort to me. And I'd know, wouldn't I?”

She turned, leaving Bojo to follow her after a complicated glance in Micah's direction. The boss didn't say a word. Not a single word.

 

Callie was packing with shaking hands. Micah came to the doorway and leaned against it with his hands in his pockets, watching her glumly.

“Nothing to say?” she asked curtly.

“Nothing you'd listen to,” he replied. He shrugged. “Lisse just put me in my place. I didn't realize it, but she's right. I do use people. Only I never meant to use you, in any way.”

“You said you weren't having an affair with my mother,” she accused as she folded a pair of slacks and put them in her case.

“I'm not. I never have.” His chest rose and fell heavily. “But you're not in any mood to listen, are you, baby?”

Baby. She frowned. Baby. Why did that word make her uneasy? She looked at him with honest curiosity.

“I called you that,” he said quietly. “You don't remember when, do you?”

She sighed, shaking her head.

“It may be just as well,” he said, almost to himself. “For now, it's safe for you to go home. Lopez is dead. His top lieutenants died with him. There's no longer any threat to you or to Dad.”

“Yes. What a lucky explosion it was,” she added, busy with her case.

“It wasn't luck, Callie,” he said shortly. “I swam out to the yacht and planted a block of C-4 next to his propeller shaft.”

She turned, gasping. Her hands shook as she fumbled the case closed and sat down heavily on the bed. So that was what they'd been talking about the night before, when Micah had said that “it might work.” He could have been killed!

“It was a close call,” he added, watching her. “I let myself get caught like a rank beginner. I was too tired to make it back in a loop, so I stopped to rest. One of Lopez's men caught me. Lopez made a lot of threats about what he planned to do to you and Dad, and then he got stupid and had me tied up down below.” He extended his arm, showed her his watch, pressed a button, and watched her expression as a knife blade popped out. “Pity his men weren't astute enough to check the watch. They knew what I do for a living, too.”

Her eyes were full of horror. Micah had gone after Lopez alone. He'd been captured. If it hadn't been for that watch, he'd be dead. She stared at him as if she couldn't get enough of just looking at him. What difference did it make if he'd had a full-blown affair with her mother? He could be out there with Lopez, in pieces…

She put her face in her hands to hide the tears that overflowed.

He went to the bed and knelt beside her, pulling her wet face into his throat. He smoothed her hair while she clung to him and let the tears fall. It had been such a traumatic week for her. It seemed that her whole life had been uprooted and stranded. Micah could have been dead. Or, last night, she could have been dead. Pride seemed such a petty thing all of a sudden.

“You could have died,” she whispered brokenly.

“So could you.” He moved, lifting her into his arms. He dropped into a wide cushioned rattan chair and held her close while the anguish of the night before lanced through her slender body like a tangible thing. She clung to him, shivering.

“I wish I'd known what you were planning,” she said. “I'd have stopped you, somehow! Even if it was only to save you so you could go to my…my mother.”

He wrapped her up even closer and laid his cheek against her hair with a long sigh. “You still don't trust me, do you, honey?” he murmured absently. “I suppose it was asking too much, considering the way I've treated you over the years.” He kissed her dark hair. “You go back home and settle into your old routine. Soon enough, this will all seem like just a bad dream.”

She rubbed her eyes with her fists, like a small child. Curled against him, she felt safe, cherished, treasured. Odd, to feel like that with a man who was a known playboy, a man who'd already told her that freedom was like a religion to him.

“You'll be glad to have your house to yourself again,” she said huskily. “I guess it really cramped your style having me here. With Lisse, I mean.”

He chuckled. “I lied.”

“Wh…what?”

“I lied about Lisse being my lover now. What was between us was over years ago.” He shrugged. “I brought her over here when you arrived as a buffer.”

She sat up, staring at him like a curious cat. “A buffer?”

He smiled lazily. His fingers brushed away the tears that were wetting her cheeks. “Bachelors are terrified of virgins,” he commented.

“You don't even like me,” she protested.

His dark eyes slid down to her mouth, and even farther, over her breasts, down to her long legs. “You have a heart like marshmallow,” he said quietly. “You never avoid trouble or turn down people in need. You take in all sorts of strays. Children love you.” He smiled. “You scared me to death.”

“Past tense?” she asked softly.

“I'm getting used to you.” He didn't smile. His dark eyes narrowed. “It hurt me that Lopez got two men onto my property while I was lying in bed asleep. You could have been kidnapped or killed, no thanks to me.”

“You were tired,” she replied. “You aren't superhuman, Micah.”

He drew in a slow breath and toyed with the armhole of her tank top. His fingers brushed against soft, warm flesh and she had to fight not to lean toward them. “I didn't feel comfortable resting while we were in so much danger. It all caught up with me last night.”

She was remembering something he'd said. “You were almost too tired to swim back from Lopez's yacht, you said,” she recalled slowly. She frowned. “But you'd just been asleep,” she added. “How could you have been tired?”

“Oh, that's not a question you should ask yet,” he said heavily. “You're not going to like the answer.”

“I'm not?”

He searched her eyes for a long moment. All at once, he stood up, taking her with him. “You'd better finish getting your stuff together. I'll put you on a commercial flight home.”

She didn't want to go, but she didn't have an excuse to stay. She looked at him as if she were lost and alone, and his face clenched.

“Don't do that,” he said huskily. “The idea is to get you out of here as smoothly as possible. Don't invite trouble.”

She didn't understand that taut command. But then, she didn't understand him, either. She was avoiding the one question she should be asking. She gave in and asked it. “Why was my mother here?”

“Her husband has cancer,” he said simply. “She phoned here and begged for help. It seems the earl is penniless and she does actually seem to love him. I arranged for him to have an unorthodox course of treatment from a native doctor here. They both stayed with me until he got through it.” He put his hands in his slacks pockets. “As much as I hate to admit it, she's not the woman she was, Callie,” he added. “And she did one other thing that I admired. She phoned your father and told him the truth about you.”