Hero For Hire

It was a quiet job, and one she did alone, which only perpetuated her reserved image. But she loved it more than anything, and wished she had more time for it these days.

Terry, I miss you, so much.

But what was done was done, and Nina had dealt with her grief. She’d dealt with the business. She’d truly moved on.

It just seemed her heart hadn’t quite gotten the message yet. Determined to lighten her mood, if only for a little while, she adjusted her light and reached for her latest drawing, a bracelet of inlaid gold with emeralds. It would match the Coração de Amante she’d made for Terry several years ago. Already Nina knew she couldn’t let this new piece go to sale. She’d dip into her own savings to buy it for herself.

She began by making a bezel, a gold sheet to hold the gems. For the next few hours she worked annealed gold around the stones, measuring, cutting and soldering with gold hard solder. By the time she stood up and stretched, it was long after dark, and the building was empty except for security.

She’d forgotten, if only for a while, her unbearable sadness.

Yes, tonight she’d sleep dream-free.

She was halfway across the back parking lot, heading toward her car, planning which book she’d take to bed with her to read until sleepiness over-came her, when she heard a footstep. A shadow fell over her.

Heart leaping, she whirled around.

And faced him. Her perfect stranger.

For one moment she had the ridiculous thought that he’d sought her out to ask her for a date.

How absurd. No one wanted her simply for herself. No one even knew the real her.

As she debated whether to stop or run, he pulled a photo from his pocket and held it up. Comparing her to it, he glanced back and forth for a moment, then frowned before taking a step closer.

“Who are you?” he asked.

It should have been her question to him.

“Como você se chama? What’s your name?” he tried in both Portuguese and English, still frowning.

If he’d been huge and menacing rather than lean and rangy as he was, he couldn’t have been more intimidating. He stood over her, all lithe, tense muscle.

Maria was right, he was magnificent, one of the most magnificent men she’d ever seen, but that didn’t make him any less dangerous.

Saying nothing, she backed up, wondering if she could make it to the building, where she could get help from the security guards within.

“Hey.” He looked annoyed. “You speak Portuguese? English? What?”

“Both,” she said, taking another step back.

“Don’t run from me. I just want to talk to you.”

Uh-huh. Right.

Another step, though now she became uncertain about turning her back on him, because he looked athletic and fast as lightning, and she doubted her ability to outdistance him.

But if she screamed, would the security guards hear her from here?

“Stop,” he demanded, yet he didn’t reach for her, which she took as a good sign. “Just hold on a second, would ya?”

Nope. If he was going to rape, maim or murder her, he’d have to catch her first, and she didn’t plan on being caught.

“I just want to know who you are,” he said.

She hadn’t lived in Rio all her life, but had been sent to private boarding schools in the United States, England and Switzerland. This man was indeed American, and southern American at that, given his slight drawl.

“Don’t run.” His voice was cool and quiet, but there was definite danger there. “And don’t scream,” he added. “I hate it when people scream. I just want to ask you some questions.”

One more step, she thought, slowly lifting her foot, just...one...more.

“This picture.” He thrust it beneath her nose. “What do you know about this picture?”

Foot in the air, poised for flight, Nina went utterly still. Her breath clogged in her throat. Her heart stopped.

It was her sister.

Meu Deus, he held a picture of Terry in the embrace of some man, and she looked so beautiful, so stunningly alive and happy, Nina’s eyes filled. “Terry,” she whispered.

The man stared at her. “My God, it’s not you.” His gaze was measuring. “It’s close....” Once again he studied the picture, then carefully searched her face. “Really close.” Before she could guess his intention, he reached up and unclipped her hair, tugging it free, ignoring her startled gasp. “But no cigar.” His eyes, those all-seeing eyes, chilled. “What do you know about this woman? What did you call her...Terry? Where can I find her?”

Nina nearly let out a laugh, but it would have been half hysterical, so she put her hand to her mouth and shook her head.

“I need to talk to her.”

For once, the streets were relatively free of the wandering tourists and loud boisterous locals. There was no one to rescue her from this bad dream. “You...cannot,” she said.

“Why?”

“She died a year ago last September.”

His frown deepened, his jaw tight as a drum. “Try again, lady.”

Nina shook off the fear and found her temper. “I do not know who you are, but I want you to leave these premises immediately. There is a guard right inside, and—”

“Don’t call him. I just want some answers. I need to talk to her.”

“No.” Terry was dead.

And she needed to remain so.

Everything depended on her remaining so.

“How long since you’ve seen her?” he pressed.

More than a year now. A lifetime. Nina closed her eyes and remembered the terror in her sister’s face when she realized that she was being watched. Stalked. Then the police had come, arresting her for embezzlement and smuggling gems in cahoots with a known smuggling operation.

It had been a lie, a terrible, vicious lie. Terry had been set up and framed, but the evidence against her had been insurmountable. Planted, of course, though neither Terry nor Nina knew who would have done such a thing.

Nina still didn’t know.

In light of that, while out on bail on charges that would put her in prison for life, Terry had vanished. Then she’d faked her own death, and Nina had grieved as if it had been the real thing, because she knew she’d never get to see Terry again.

“The waitress told me you were Senhorita Nina Monteverde,” the American said. “If that’s true, who’s Terry?”

If this man was looking for her sister, something had gone terribly, terribly wrong, and Nina backed up another step.

“Maybe Terry is...your sister?”

Nina’s eyes widened, she couldn’t help it. He was good.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding, still staring at her. “Your sister. I need to talk to her, Nina.”

Another step.

Then another.

And yet another, all the while her brain frantically racing. Terry, God, Terry please be all right.

Then finally she had enough space between her and the American. “Security!” she shouted. “Help! Security!”

Behind her the doors opened, and she whirled toward them, never so grateful for the wealth and status her family name afforded as two uniformed men rushed toward her. “Escort this man off the premises!” she cried, turning back to point out the American, as if he needed pointing out.

But the security men skidded to a halt, bafflement crossing their faces. Nina didn’t understand, until she realized she pointed at nothing and no one.

Her stranger had vanished.

CHAPTER TWO

RICK WASN’T a patient man. One would think that worked against him in his line of work, but he’d found frustration and intimidation good motivators.

Only he’d blown it just now, letting Nina Monteverde stun him stupid with just one blink of those huge, wide, drown-in-me chocolate brown eyes.

What was that about?

He’d interviewed plenty of women in his day, and while it was true few could resist his own dubious charms, it had happened on occasion. But he’d still always gotten what he wanted.

Not tonight.

Tonight he’d been the one blindsided, and for his trouble all he’d gotten was a lie.

No way could the woman in the picture have been dead a year and a half. She’d given birth only seven months ago, then dumped the baby girl on what she thought was Mitch Barnes’s doorstep.

Rick sat on his motorcycle contemplating his next move. He pulled out his cell phone, and without calculating the difference in the time zone, dialed Mitch’s home.

“Barnes here.”

“Does the name Monteverde mean anything to you?” Rick asked.

“No, why?”

“The woman in the picture, the one you’re looking for, her name is Terry Monteverde.”

“Terry.” Mitch’s voice, so professional and alert in his greeting, went rough with memories. “Terry Monteverde.”

“Nina, her sister, claims she died last fall.”

“That’s a lie. I had a paternity test. Hope is mine. The only woman I was with at the right time was the woman in the picture.”

“Yeah, Nina was lying. But I think she was protecting Terry, for whatever reason.” Rick couldn’t be sure why he thought so, he didn’t know Nina Monteverde from Eve, but his instincts had never failed him. At least not in four years. “I’m going to follow her home and see what else I can get.”

Across the miles and phone lines, Mitch swore softly. In the background, a baby was crying. “I know she’s in some sort of trouble, I can feel it. It’s the only reason she’d abandon her baby.” He drew a deep breath. “She has to be found, she needs help.”

“I’ll find her.” Rick could still see the parking lot of All That Glitters. Two armed guards escorted Nina to her car, where she looked around, craning her neck left and right.

Looking for him, Rick knew as she got in and started the car. “I’ll get back to you,” he said to Mitch, and clicked off, shoving the phone in his pocket. When she’d pulled away and could no longer hear him, he roared his bike to life.

Nina would lead him to Terry, he was certain of it, so certain he hurried to catch up, following Ms. Monteverde home.

Anything to keep his mind off the sound of Mitch’s voice. That gruff, terrorized worry brought Rick far too close to the time when he could feel such things, too. To a time when he could still be disappointed by the people and circumstances in his life.

When he could still get hurt.

He’d done some hurting of his own, which would haunt him to his dying day.

He hadn’t always been a bounty hunter. Once upon a time he’d grown up under the eye of his sweet, lovely mother, a woman who’d been deserted by his father while in labor with Rick. Poorer than dirt and alone in the world together, they’d done fine. Better than fine, actually. His mother had seen to it.

She’d gotten him through childhood before dying of breast cancer, but by then he had the basics down, her morals and love of life.

Everything was an adventure back then, wildly dangerous, and right up Rick’s alley. He’d been untouchable in those days, and had thrived on it.

Until he’d met Mary Jo Anderson, the second sweet, lovely woman in his life, a witness he was charged to protect until she could testify in a murder case. With her help, they could bring down a very wanted man. If all went well, it was a case that would make everyone’s career.

Rick was in his element. Until he looked into Mary Jo’s wide, innocent eyes, that is.

Up to that point, he’d managed to go his entire life without sharing his heart. He’d shared his body plenty, but never anything else, so no one could have been more surprised when he fell for Mary Jo. It had softened him, and made him stupid. Careless.

But nothing could happen to her, not with Rick looking out for her, right? Oh yeah, he’d been a cocky son of a bitch.

And Mary Jo had been killed.

His fault. He hadn’t been able to stop her murder, or protect her, though he’d sworn to both his country and Mary Jo to do exactly that.

Things had gone straight to hell in a handbasket after that. Destroyed, Rick had walked away from all he’d ever known, and spent months aimlessly wandering the globe, looking for trouble and often finding it. He’d finally ended up in Rio. Something about the sinful, wild, pagan city appealed to his troubled soul, and he’d been here ever since.

It had been four years, and thankfully he’d managed to bury those memories for good. Only in the occasional dream was he forced to relive them, and he’d awaken drenched in sweat and tears and remind himself that having no emotions and no heart was the only way to live.

It worked for him, allowed him to be the best bounty hunter there was, because without feelings, no one could touch him. He liked that.

Nina led him out of the ritzy business district and into the ritzy residential district, but as Rick stayed back far enough to remain anonymous, he realized something.

They weren’t alone.

A low-profile sedan followed him following Nina, keeping well back, but definitely on their tail.

Normally, his adrenaline would have kicked in, and so would the thrill of the chase and the highly anticipated victory.

His adrenaline did kick in, but oddly enough not the thrill. He didn’t like the thought of someone else after Nina. It was the damn memories haunting him now, he knew. But he’d gone soft once, and as a result, had lost the dearest thing to him.

That could never happen again since he no longer had a heart, but as he drove through the starlit Rio night, Rick hit the gas pedal with an uneasy urgency.

* * *

THE FIRST THING Nina did inside her condo was lock and double lock her door. She had goose bumps up and down her limbs, and though she could have called any one of her father’s men over to check on her, she felt silly.

The tough, brooding American was long gone, and she was safe.

As always, she raced to check her mail, hoping, praying... Flipping hurriedly through the bills and advertisements, she held her breath.

But no little letter from Baba, her old nanny, as arranged and promised through Terry. No news of her sister at all.

Nina sank to the couch, for once blind to the incredible view of the deep-blue bay spread out before her from floor-to-ceiling windows. She felt sick, and so tense she could have shattered.

Terry, whereever she was, had been sending twice monthly letters through Baba. Those letters said precious little, but they’d been all Nina had, and she’d treasured each one, hoarding it close to her heart for several hours before forcing herself to burn it.

She hadn’t received one in over a month, and every day Nina grew more frantic.

Now there was an American asking around and he had a picture of Terry with a man she’d never seen.

It all combined to tell Nina the truth. Her sister was in trouble, even deeper trouble than being framed for embezzlement and smuggling gems.

Grabbing the phone, praying Rio’s notoriously bad phone service was in order, Nina dialed Baba. She woke the poor woman up, and quickly asked the same question she’d been asking her almost nightly now for weeks.

“Any word?”

“Nada, minha amada.”

Nothing, my sweetheart.

Baba didn’t say more, but she didn’t have to—it was all there in her voice, the fear, the worry. Nina hung up and tried to calm herself, but the feeling of dread continued to intensify. Something had happened, something had gone wrong.

What was she going to do?

The American kept popping into her head. How had he gotten that picture? And what did he want with Terry?

Would he just go away?

She wanted to think so, but despite appearances, she wasn’t that naive. The man had been too focused, too intense for him to simply vanish without getting what he wanted.

And too extraordinary.

That she’d even noticed during those few moments of terror really disturbed her, but there was no denying there’d been something in his gaze, something deep and nearly hidden that had startled her.

Pain.

The realization rocked her, then made her laugh. The man had terrified her. Yet she’d bothered to notice his hidden pain.

She needed help, serious help.

A sound from the kitchen distracted her, and she went still for one second, before grabbing a fire poker from the fireplace she never used.

The only sound now was her own ragged breathing as she tiptoed to the double swinging doors and peeked in.

Nothing.

She’d spooked herself, and just as she let the air out of her lungs, the phone rang, causing her to nearly leap out of her skin. With a hand to her chest, she shook her head at herself and picked up the receiver.

“Nina, the financials are due in the morning.”

The gruff, no-nonsense, no greeting was typical of John Henry. He was second in command of All That Glitters, next to her.

It hadn’t always been that way. Once upon a time, before she and Terry had been old enough to take the reins, John Henry had run the place for their invalid father.

And when their father had deemed the surprisingly business-savvy Terry old enough to take over, he’d removed the job from John Henry without qualm, leaving the fiercely ambitious man reporting to a woman he not so secretly felt was beneath him.

He’d never forgiven any of them for that, and Nina, the only one left to deal with him on a daily basis, got to face the brunt of his attitude. “The financials are complete,” she said, ignoring his silent surprise that she’d done her job. She always did her job, sometimes at the expense of her own happiness, but that he expected her to fail, even wanted her to, hurt. “But thank you for your offer of help.”

He ignored the dry quip. “Everything is good?”

The tall, stern, perpetually frowning man wasn’t asking about her health or her life, she’d learned the hard way. On her first day, John Henry had asked her the same question, and at the thought that she was only there because Terry was dead and buried, she’d burst into tears.

John Henry had simply walked out of her office without a word, coming back when she’d composed herself.

“Everything is perfectly in balance,” she said now.

“Did you include the paperwork your father had worked on during his last visit to Arraial do Cabo?” he asked.

“Yes, I—” Oh, no. The Monteverde vacation estate! Good Lord, how could she have so completely forgotten?

Nina had long ago gone through her sister’s condo, burning everything and anything that could have been used against Terry. Correspondence, notes, journals, everything.

Illegal, yes, but Nina hadn’t cared. Her sister was innocent, framed for whatever reason, and the authorities had gone along with it, so all rules had been off as far as Nina was concerned. She’d have done far worse to protect her sister.

People thought of Nina as the good girl. Ha! If they only knew the fire she had burning deep within her, the fierce love and sense of loyalty she felt toward her family.

But she’d forgotten the vacation home she hadn’t been to since Terry’s “death.” Who knew what her sister had out there that could be used to track her down.

“Nina?”

“Yes, John Henry,” she said carefully. “I am here. And you are quite right, I had forgotten about the paperwork at the vacation estate.”

His silence said volumes about what he thought of her first and only “mistake.”

“In fact,” she said trying to contain her sudden attack of nerves, “I need to drive up to Arrairal do Cabo myself. I will leave now and be back at the office by tomorrow afternoon the latest.”

“If you insist.”

He could have offered any one of a dozen minions to make the three-hour drive and handle the chore for her, but he didn’t, and for once Nina was grateful John Henry was selfish and bitter and resentful.

She needed to go, and she needed to go alone.

* * *

NINA MADE THE TRIP into the mountains with nothing but her own nerves for company.

It was horrifying how the mind could play tricks. She imagined she was being followed. Imagined being kidnapped and tortured.

Imagined her sister dead for real.

But common sense came over her. First of all, no one knew where she was going besides John Henry, and while he was a cranky pain in her behind, he wouldn’t do anything to hurt his precious job.

As for being followed, the road was so well traveled by both locals and tourists, even this late at night, that it would be nearly impossible for anyone to follow her, especially a gorgeous, brooding American not familiar with the winding highway.

Besides, she simply wasn’t that important. Not to anyone, not anymore. Her father was house-bound and cared for by his adoring servants. She visited him every other week, and while he appreciated her running All That Glitters, he didn’t seem to need anything more from her.

Ah, that was it.

Self-pity.

She was feeling that strange, inexplicable loneliness again, the sense that there was no one she could trust with the real Nina Monteverde.

With a skill that came from long years of practice, she pushed the feelings away. But when she pulled up to the family estate, the beautiful Spanish-style ranch that sprawled thirty acres over the mountainside, memories washed over her.

Here was where they’d spent many summers, she and her sister, watched over by servants and Baba. It hadn’t been a hardship, because for the most part they’d been left alone to do as they pleased.

For Terry it had been sunbathing and boy gazing.

For Nina, it had been reading and secret boy gazing. She’d never had the nerve and splashiness of her sister, and now, given the life Terry had been forced to lead for the past year and a half, Nina should be content.

But the truth was, she’d always admired Terry for knowing what she wanted, for going after it with such complete abandon. To know Terry was to look at her. She’d worn her life and emotions on her sleeve for all to see.

No one could look at Nina and know her life’s ambitions, and certainly not her emotions. She’d been hiding them so long she wasn’t even certain herself anymore who she really was.

Going inside, she carefully locked up behind her. Then, because it was so late and she felt more exhausted than she could ever remember feeling, she made her way directly to her bedroom.

She’d search the place first thing in the morning.

Yawning, she undressed. With one look out into the incredible night sky awash with millions of stars, their reflection dancing over the wild, dark mountains, her head hit the pillow and she was out.

* * *

SHE DREAMED BADLY, and as she tossed and turned, she attributed it to the fact she hadn’t yet done what she’d come for.

God only knew what clues Terry had left in her hurry to escape Brazil, and now that someone was looking for her, Nina felt that urgency as her own.

But she finally fell into a deep sleep, this time dreaming of fire-green, searing eyes and the intense expression of the American’s arresting face as he leaned toward her, over her, closer and closer with that long, beautifully formed body of his, until her breath backed up in her lungs.

Was he going to kiss her?

Was that why her body tingled in vibrant awareness, her pulse dancing and leaping as she arched closer?

His hands reached out, and she imagined them caressing her every inch, giving her pleasure such as she’d never known.

But instead they circled her neck and started to squeeze.

That’s when she remembered, even deeply asleep, that the lean, edgy man wasn’t just beautiful.

He was dangerous.

She needed to remember that, and promised herself she would as she shifted into a more normal sleep. She dreamed of Terry, of their happy, care-free childhood as a watchful part of her chased away the disturbing dreams.

And awakened with a silent scream when a hand covered her mouth.