Her Kind of Hero: The Last Mercenary

She gaped at him. The comment about her nipples was disturbing, but she had no idea what he meant by emphasizing them. “I had no idea I was showing like that!”

“I didn’t realize that. Not at first.” He held her fingers tighter. “You saw me and came right up against me, drowning me in that floral perfume you wore. You stood on tiptoe, like you did a minute ago, trying to tempt me into kissing you.”

She averted her embarrassed eyes. “You said terrible things…”

“The sight of you like that had aroused me passionately,” he said frankly, nodding when her shocked eyes jumped to his face. “That’s right. And I couldn’t let you know it. I had to make you keep your distance, not an easy accomplishment after the alcohol you’d had. For which,” he added coldly, “your mother should have been shot! It was illegal for her to let you drink, even at home. Anyway, I read you the riot act, pushed you away and walked down the hall, right into your mother. She recognized immediately what you hadn’t even noticed about my body, and she thought it was the sight of her in that slinky silver dress that had caused it. So she buried herself against me and started kissing me.” He let out an angry breath. “Your father saw us like that before I could push her away. And I couldn’t tell him the truth, because you were just barely eighteen. I was already thirty-two.”

The bitterness in his deep voice was blatant. She didn’t feel herself breathing. She’d only been eighteen, but he’d wanted her. She’d never realized it. Everything that didn’t make sense was suddenly crystal clear—except that comment about his body. She wondered what her mother had seen and recognized about him that she hadn’t.

“You never told me.”

“You were a child, Callie,” he said tautly. “In some ways, you still are. I was never low enough to take advantage of your innocence.”

She was almost vibrating with the turmoil of her emotions. She didn’t know what to do or say.

He drew in a long, slow breath as he studied her. “Come on,” he said, tugging her along. “We have to move or we’ll miss our flight.” He handed her the case and indicated the ladies’ room. “Get changed. I’ll wait right here.”

She nodded. Her mind was in such turmoil that she changed into jeans and a long-sleeved knit shirt, socks and sneakers, without paying much attention to what was in the small travel case. She didn’t take time to look in any of the compartments, because he’d said to hurry. She glanced at herself in the mirror and was glad she had short hair that could do without a brush. Despite all she’d been through, it didn’t look too bad. She’d have to buy a brush when they got where they were going, along with makeup and other toiletries. But that could wait.

Micah was propping up the wall when she came out. He nodded, approving what Maddie had packed for her, and took the case. “Here,” he said, passing her a small plastic bag.

Inside were makeup, a brush, a toothbrush, toothpaste and deodorant. She almost cried at the thoughtful gift.

“Thanks,” she said huskily.

Micah pulled the tickets and boarding passes out of his shirt pocket. “Get out your driver’s license and birth certificate,” he said. “We have to have a photo ID to board.”

She felt momentary panic. “My birth certificate is in my file at home, and my driver’s license is still in my purse, in my car…!”

He laid a lean forefinger across her pretty mouth, slightly swollen from the hard contact with his. “Your car is at your house, and your purse is inside it, and it’s locked up tight. I told Maddie to put your birth certificate and your driver’s license in the case. Have you looked for them?”

“No. I didn’t think…”

She paused, putting the case down on the carpeted concourse floor to open it. Sure enough, her driver’s license was in the zipped compartment that she hadn’t looked in when she was in the bathroom. Besides that, the unknown Maddie had actually put her makeup and toiletries inside, as well, in a plastic bag. She could have wept at the woman’s thoughtfulness, but she wasn’t going to tell Micah and make him feel uncomfortable that he’d already bought her those items. She closed it quickly and stuck her license in her jeans pocket.

“Does Maddie really look like me?” she asked on the way to the ticket counter, trying not to sound as if she minded. He’d said they resembled one another earlier.

“At a distance,” he affirmed. “Her hair is shorter than yours, and she’s more muscular. She was a karate instructor when she signed on with me. She’s twenty-six.”

“Karate.”

“Black belt,” he added.

“She seems to be very efficient,” she murmured a little stiffly.

He gave her a knowing glance that she didn’t see and chuckled softly. “She’s in love with Colby Lane, a guy I used to work with at the justice department,” he told her. “She signed on with us because she thought he was going to.”

“He didn’t?”

He shook his head. “He’s working for Pierce Hutton’s outfit, as a security chief, along with Tate Winthrop, an acquaintance of mine.”

“Oh.”

They were at the ticket counter now. He held out his hand for her driver’s license and birth certificate, and presented them along with his driver’s license and passport and the tickets to the agent on duty.

She put the tickets in a neat folder with the boarding passes in a slot on the outside, checked the ID, and handed them back.

“Have a nice trip,” she told them. “We’ll be boarding in just a minute.”

Callie hadn’t looked at her boarding pass. She was too busy trying to spot Bojo and Peter and the others.

“They’re already en route,” Micah told her nonchalantly, having guessed why she was looking around her.

“They aren’t going with us?”

He gave her a wry glance. “Somebody had to bring my boat back. I left it here in the marina when I flew out to Jacobsville to help Eb Scott and Cy Parks shut down Lopez’s drug operation. It’s still there.”

“Why couldn’t we have gone on the boat, too?”

“You get seasick,” he said before he thought.

Her lips fell open. She’d only been on a boat once, with him and her mother and stepfather, when she was sixteen. They’d gone to San Antonio and sailed down the river on a tour boat. She’d gotten very sick and thrown up. It had been Micah who’d looked after her, to his father’s amusement.

She hadn’t even remembered the episode until he’d said that. She didn’t get seasick now, but she kept quiet.

“Besides,” he added, avoiding her persistent stare, “if Lopez does try anything, it won’t be on an international flight out of the U. S. He’s in enough trouble with the higher-ups in his organization without making an assault on a commercial plane just to get even for losing a prisoner.”

She relaxed a little, because that had been on her mind.

He took her arm and drew her toward a small door, where a uniformed man was holding a microphone. He announced that they were boarding first-class passengers first, and Micah ushered her right down the ramp and into the plane.

“First class,” she said, dazed, as he eased her into a wide, comfortable seat with plenty of leg room. Even for a man of his height, there was enough of it.

“Always,” he murmured, amused at her fascination. “I don’t like cramped places.”

She fastened her seat belt with a wry smile. “Considering the size of you, I can understand that. Micah, what about Dad?” she added, ashamed that she was still belaboring the point.

“Maddie’s got him under surveillance. When Pogo goes back, he’ll work a split shift with her at your apartment to safeguard him. Eb and Cy are keeping their eyes out, as well. I promise you, Dad’s going to be safe.” He hesitated, searching her wide, pale blue eyes. “But you’re the one in danger.”

“Because I got away,” she agreed, nodding.

He seemed worried. His dark eyes narrowed on her face. “Lopez doesn’t lose prisoners, ever. You’re the first. Someone is going to pay for that. He’ll make an example of the people who didn’t watch you closely enough. Then he’ll make an example of you and me, if he can, to make sure his reputation doesn’t suffer.”

She shivered involuntarily. It was a nightmare that would haunt her forever. She remembered what she’d suffered already and her eyes closed on a helpless wave of real terror.

“You’re going to be safe, Callie. Listen,” he said, reading her expression, “I live on a small island in the Bahamas chain, not too far from New Providence. I have state-of-the-art surveillance equipment and a small force of mercenaries that even Lopez would hesitate to confront. Lopez isn’t the only one who has a reputation in terrorist circles. Before I put together my team and hired out as a professional soldier, I worked for the CIA.”

Her eyes widened. She hadn’t known that. She hadn’t known anything about him.

“They approached me while I was in college, before I changed my course of study to medicine. I was already fluent in French and Dutch, and I picked up German in my sophomore year. I couldn’t blend in very well in an Arabic country, but I could pass for German or Dutch, and I did. During holidays and vacations, I did a lot of traveling for the company.” He smiled, reminiscing. “It was dangerous work, and exciting. By the time I was in my last year of residency, I knew for a fact that I wouldn’t be able to settle down into a medical practice. I couldn’t live without the danger. That’s when I left school for good.”

She was hanging on every word. It was amazing to have him speak to her as an equal, as an adult. They’d never really talked before.

“I wondered,” she said, “why you gave it up.”

He stretched his long legs out in front of him and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “I had the skills, but as I grew older, the less I wanted roots or anything that hinted at permanence. I don’t want marriage or children, so a steady, secure profession seemed superfluous. On the other hand, being a mercenary is right up my alley. I live for those surges of adrenaline.”

“None of us ever knew about that,” she said absently, trying not to let him see how much it hurt to know that he couldn’t see a future as a husband and father. Now that she knew what he really did for a living, she could understand why. He was never going to be a family man. “We thought it was the trust your mother left you that kept you in Armani suits,” she added in a subdued tone.

“No, it wasn’t. I like my lifestyle,” he added with a pointed glance in her direction. He stretched lazily, pulling the silk shirt he was wearing taut across the muscles of his chest. A flight attendant actually hesitated as she started down the aisle, helplessly drinking in the sight of him. He was a dish, all right. Callie didn’t blame the other woman for staring, but the flight attendant had blond hair and blue eyes and she was lovely. Her beauty was like a knife in the ribs to Callie, pointing out all the physical attributes she herself lacked. If only she’d been pretty, she told herself miserably, maybe Micah would have wanted more than an occasional kiss from her.

“Would you care for anything to drink, sir?” the flight attendant asked, smiling joyfully as she paused by Micah’s side.

“Scotch and soda,” he told her. He smiled ruefully. “It’s been a long day.”

“Coming right up,” the woman said, and went at once to get the order.

Callie noticed that she hadn’t been asked if she wanted anything. She wondered what Micah would say if she asked for a neat whiskey. Probably nothing, she told herself miserably. He might have kissed her in the airport, but he only seemed irritated by her now.

The flight attendant was back with his drink. She glanced belatedly at Callie and grimaced. “Sorry,” she told the other woman. “I didn’t think to ask if you’d like something, too?”

Callie shook her head and smiled. “No, I don’t want anything, thanks.”

“Are you stopping in Nassau or just passing through?” the woman asked Micah boldly.

He gave her a lingering appraisal, from her long, elegant legs to her full breasts and lovely face. He smiled. “I live there.”

“Really!” Her eyes lit as if they’d concealed fires. “So do I!”

“Then you must know Lisette Dubonnet,” he said.

“Dubonnet,” the uniformed woman repeated, frowning. “Isn’t her father Jacques Dubonnet, the French ambassador?”

“Yes,” he said. “Lisette and I have known each other for several years. We’re…very good friends.”

The flight attendant looked suddenly uncomfortable, and a little flushed. Micah was telling her, in a nice way, that she’d overstepped her introduction. He smiled to soften the rejection, but it was a rejection, just the same.

“Miss Dubonnet is very lovely,” the flight attendant said with a pleasant, if more formal, smile. “If you need anything else, just ring.”

“I will.”

She went on down the aisle. Beside him, Callie was staring out the window at the ocean below without any real enthusiasm. She hated her own reaction to the news that Micah was involved with some beautiful woman in Nassau. And not only a beautiful woman, but a poised sophisticate, as well.

“You’ll like Lisse,” he said carelessly. “I’ll ask her to go shopping with you. You’ll have to have a few clothes. She has excellent taste.”

Implying that Callie had none at all. Her heart felt like iron in her chest, heavy and cold. “That would be nice,” she said, lying through her teeth. “I won’t need much, though,” she added, thinking about her small savings account.

“You may be there longer than a day or two,” he said in a carefully neutral voice. “You can’t wear the same clothes day in and day out. Besides,” he added curtly, “it’s about time you learned how to dress like a young woman instead of an elderly recluse!”

5

Callie felt the anger boil out of her in waves. “Oh, that’s nice, coming from you,” she said icily. “When you’re the one who started me wearing that sort of thing in the first place!”

“Me?” he replied, his eyebrows arching.

“You said I dressed like a tramp,” she began, and her eyes were anguished as she remembered the harsh, hateful words. “Like my mother,” she added huskily. “You said that I flaunted my body…” She stopped suddenly and wrapped her arms around herself. She stared out the porthole while she recovered her self-control. “Sorry,” she said stiffly. “I’ve been through a lot. It’s catching up with me. I didn’t mean to say that.”

He felt as if he’d been slapped. Maybe he deserved it, too. Callie had been beautiful in that green velvet dress. The sight of her in it had made him ache. She had the grace and poise of a model, even if she lacked the necessary height. But he’d never realized that his own anger had made her ashamed of her body, and at such an impressionable age. Good God, no wonder she dressed like a dowager! Then he remembered what she’d hinted in the jungle about the foster homes she’d stayed in, and he wondered with real anguish what she’d endured before she came to live in his father’s house. There had to be more to her repression than just a few regretted words from him.

“Callie,” he said huskily, catching her soft chin and turning her flushed face toward him. “Something happened to you at one of those foster homes, didn’t it?”

She bit her lower lip and for a few seconds, there was torment in her eyes.

He drew in a sharp breath.

She turned her face away again, embarrassed.

“Can you talk about it?” he asked.

She shook her head jerkily.

His dark eyes narrowed. And her mother—her own mother—had deserted her, had placed her in danger with pure indifference. “Damn your mother,” he said in a gruff whisper.

She didn’t look at him again. At least, she thought mistakenly, he was remembering the breakup of his father’s marriage, and not her childhood anymore. She didn’t like remembering the past.

He leaned back in his seat and stretched, folding his arms over his broad chest. One day, he promised himself, there was going to be a reckoning for Callie’s mother. He hoped the woman got just a fraction of what she deserved, for all the grief and pain she’d caused. Although, he had to admit, she had changed in the past year or so.

He wondered if her mother’s first husband, Kane Kirby, had contacted Callie recently. Poor kid, he thought. She really had gone through a lot, even before Lopez had her kidnapped. He thought about what she’d suffered at Lopez’s hands, and he ached to avenge her. The drug lord was almost certain to make a grab for her again. But this time, he promised himself, Lopez was going to pay up his account in full. He owed Callie that much for the damage he’d done.

It was dark when the plane landed in Nassau at the international airport, and Micah let Callie go ahead of him down the ramp to the pavement. The moist heat was almost smothering, after the air-conditioned plane. Micah took her arm and escorted her to passport control. He glanced with amusement at the passengers waiting around baggage claim for their bags to be unloaded. Even when he traveled routinely, he never took more than a duffel bag that he could carry into the airplane with him. It saved time waiting for luggage to be off-loaded.

After they checked through, he moved her outside again and hailed a cab to take them to the marina, where the boat was waiting.

Another small round of formalities and they boarded the sleek, powerful boat that already contained Micah’s men. Callie went below and sat quietly on a comfortable built-in sofa, watching out the porthole as the boat flew out of Prince George Wharf and around the bay. From there, it went out to sea.

“Comfortable?” Micah asked, joining her below.

She nodded. “It’s so beautiful out there. I love the way the ships light up at night. I knew cruise ships did, but I didn’t realize that smaller ones did, too.” She glanced at him in the subdued light of the cabin. “You don’t light yours, do you?”

He chuckled. “In my line of work, it wouldn’t be too smart, would it?”

“Sorry,” she said with a sheepish smile. “I wasn’t thinking.”

He poured himself a Scotch and water and added ice cubes. “Want something to drink? If you don’t want anything alcoholic, I’ve got soft drinks or fruit juice.”

She shook her head. “I’m fine.” She laughed. Her eyes caught and held on a vessel near the lighted dock. “Look! There’s a white ship with black sails flying a skull and crossbones Jolly Roger flag!”

He chuckled. “That would be Fred Spence. He’s something of a local eccentric. Nice boat, though.”

She glanced at him. “This one is nice, too.”

“It’s comfortable on long hauls,” he said noncommittally. He dropped down onto the sofa beside her and crossed his long legs. “We need to talk.”

“About what?”

“Lopez. I’m putting you under twenty-four-hour surveillance,” he said somberly. “If I’m not within yelling distance, one of my men will be. Even when you go shopping with Lisse, Bojo or Peter will go along. You aren’t to walk on the beach alone, ever.”

“But surely that would be safe…?”

He sat forward abruptly, and his black eyes glittered. “Callie, he has weapons that could pinpoint your body heat and send a missile after it from a distance of half a mile,” he said curtly.

She actually gasped. That brought to mind another worry. She frowned. “I’m putting you in jeopardy by being with you,” she said suddenly.

“You’ve got that backward, honey,” he said, the endearment coming so naturally that he wasn’t even aware he’d used it until he watched Callie’s soft complexion flush. “You were in jeopardy in the first place because of me. Why does it make you blush when I call you honey?” he added immediately, the question quick enough to rattle her.

“I’m not used to it.”

“From me,” he drawled softly. “Or from any man?”

She shifted. “From Dad, maybe.”

“Dad doesn’t count. I mean single, datable bachelors.”

She shook her head. “I don’t date.”

He’d never connected her solitary existence with himself. Now, he was forced to. He drew his breath in sharply, and got up from the sofa. He took a long sip from his drink, walking slowly over to stare out the porthole at the distant lights of the marina as they left it behind. “I honestly didn’t realize how much damage I did to your ego, Callie. I’m really sorry about it.”

“I was just as much at fault as you were,” she replied evenly. “I shouldn’t have thrown myself at you like some drunk prostitute…”

“Callie!” he exclaimed, horrified at her wording.

She averted her eyes and her hands clenched in her lap. “Well, I did.”

He put his drink on the bar and knelt just in front of her. He was so tall that his black eyes were even with soft blue ones in the position. His lean hands went to her waist and he shook her very gently.

“I pushed you away because I wanted you, not because I thought you were throwing yourself at me,” he said bluntly. “I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to resist you if I didn’t do something very fast. I would have explained it to you eventually, if your mother hadn’t stepped in and split the family apart, damn her cold heart!”

Her hands rested hesitantly on his broad shoulders, lifted and then rested again while she waited to see if she was allowed to touch him.

He seemed to realize that, because he smiled very slowly and his thumbs edged out against her flat belly in a sensuous stroking motion. “I like being touched,” he murmured. “It’s all right.”

She smiled nervously. “I’m not used to doing it.”

“I noticed.” He stood up and drew her up with him. The top of her head only came to his nose. He framed her face in his warm, strong hands and lifted it gently. “Want to kiss me?” he asked in a husky whisper, and his eyes fell to her own soft mouth.

She wasn’t sure about that. Her hands were on his chest now, touching lightly over the silky fabric. Under it, she could feel thick hair. She was hopelessly curious about what he looked like bare-chested. She’d never seen Micah without a shirt in all the time she’d lived in his house with his father.

“No pressure,” he promised, bending. “And I won’t make fun of you.”

“Make fun of me?” she asked curiously.

“Never mind.” He bent and his lips closed tenderly on her upper lip while he tasted the moist inside of it with his tongue. His lips moved to her lower lip and repeated the arousing little caress. His hands were at her waist, but they began to move up and down with a lazy, sensual pressure that made her body go rigid in his arms.

He lifted his mouth from her face and looked down at her with affectionate amusement. “ Relax! Why are you afraid of me?” he asked gently. “I wouldn’t hurt you, Callie. Not for any reason.”

“I know. It’s just that…”

“What?” he asked.

Her eyes met his plaintively. “Don’t…tease me,” she asked with dignity. “I’m not experienced enough to play that sort of game.”

The amusement left his face. “Is that what it seems like to you?” he asked. He searched her worried eyes. “Even if I were into game-playing, you’d never be a target. I do have some idea now of what you’ve been through, in the past and just recently.”

She let out the breath she’d been holding. “This Lisette you mentioned. Is she…important to you?”

“We’re good friends,” he said, and there was a new remoteness in his expression. “You’ll like her. She’s outgoing and she loves people. She’ll help you get outfitted.”

Now she was really worried. “I have my credit card, but I can’t afford expensive shops,” she emphasized. “Could you tell her that, so I won’t have to?”

“I can tell her.” He smiled quizzically. “But why won’t you let me buy you some clothes?”

“I’m not your responsibility, even if you have been landed with me, Micah,” she replied. “I pay my own way.”

He wondered if she had any idea how few of his female acquaintances would ever have made such a statement to him? It occurred to him that he’d never had a woman refuse a wardrobe.

He scowled. “You could pay me back, if you have to.”

She smiled. “Thanks. But I’ll buy my own clothes.”