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  "I'm your protector, Ms. Leone" Rafe said.

  "That means I'm on duty around the clock and you go nowhere without me. Until this case is solved and you're completely safe, I'll be your shadow day and night."

  Yeah, that's what she'd thought. Goody, goody. She could request another Dundee agent to guard her, but then that would just prove that she did have a thing for Rafe. But if she had to spend day and night with the sexy Mr. Devlin, she'd have to fight her stupid, totally unwanted attraction to him. She was in a no-win situation.

  So suck it up, Elsa, she told herself. You've got more serious problems than keeping your hands off Rafe Devlin.

  Such as the fact that someone wanted her dead. . .

  SILHOUETTE BOOKS

  ISBN 0-373-27343-6

  DOWNRIGHT DANGEROUS

  Copyright © 2004 by Beverly Beaver

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and TM are trademarks of Harlequin Books S.A., used under license. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

  Visit Silhouette at www.eHarlequin.com

  CLS 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Printed in U.S.A.

  Books by Beverly Barton

  Silhouette Intimate Moments Silhouette Desire

  This Side of Heaven #453 Yankee Lover #580

  Paladin's Woman #515 Lucky in Love #628

  Lover and Deceiver #557 Out of Danger #662

  The Outcast #614 Sugar Hill #687

  * Defending His Own #670 Talk of the Town #711

  ^Guarding Jeannie #688 The Wanderer #766

  *Blackwood's Woman #707 Cameron #796

  *Roarke's Wife #807 The Mother of My Child #831

  *A Man Like Morgan Kane #819 Nothing But Trouble #881

  *Gabriel Hawk's Lady #830 The Tender Trap #1047

  Emily and the Stranger #860 A CWM of Her Own #1077

  Lone Wolf's Lady #877 †His Secret Child #1203

  * Keeping Annie Safe #937 †His Woman, His Child # 1209

  *Murdock's Last Stand #979 †Having His Baby #1216

  *Egan Cassidy's Kid #1015

  Her Secret Weapon #1034 *The Protectors

  *Navajo's Woman #1063 †3 Babies for 3 Brothers

  *Whitelaw's Wedding #1075

  *Jack's Christmas Mission #1113

  *The Princess's Bodyguard #1177

  *Downright Dangerous #1273

  Silhouette Books

  36 Hours Lone Star Country Club:

  Nine Months The Debutantes

  "Jenna's Wild Ride"

  The Fortunes of Texas

  In the Arms of a Hero Lone Star Country Club:

  "The Rebel's Return"

  3,2,1.. .Married! "

  Getting Personal"

  BEVERLY BARTON

  An avid reader since childhood, Beverly wrote her first book at nine. After marriage to her own "hero" and the births of her daughter and son, Beverly chose to be a full-time homemaker, aka wife, mother, friend and volunteer. This author of over thirty-five books is a member of Romance Writers of America and helped found the Heart of Dixie chapter. She has won numerous awards, and has made the Waldenbooks and USA TODAY bestseller lists.

  In loving memory of my mother-in-law,

  Annie Lue Beaver,

  Who left behind a legacy of love, sacrifice and true

  devotion that will live on, generation after generation, in the family she cherished above all else.

  Prologue

  Elsa Leone had become a major irritation, stirring up trouble and getting the whole town of Maysville worked up over the problems down in Honey Town. After receiv­ing a few phone calls and letters of warning, she should have gotten the message that she was involving herself in things that could get her killed. But she hadn't heeded those friendly warnings. The woman was as tenacious as a bulldog with a juicy bone. Using her position as the manager of WJMM's TV and radio stations to spotlight the crimes being committed in the once red-light district of their beloved little town had served as a catalyst for every law-abiding citizen to join ranks. Elsa had spear­headed the drive to form the Maysville Good Samaritans, MGS, who were demanding action. And those demands grew louder every day.

  Allowing things to go this far had been his first mistake, one he had to rectify. Orders had been given. Tonight ac­tion would be taken. And if the smart and sassy Ms. Leone didn't take heed, then she would have to die.

  Glancing up at the podium in the grand ballroom at the Magnolia Plaza, he joined the audience in giving Elsa a standing ovation as she hosted tonight's fund-raiser for MGS. He'd never seen her dressed to the nines as she was this evening. Despite being attractive in a dark, rather ex­otic way, she seemed to be one of those women totally unaware of her beauty and sex appeal and usually did ab­solutely nothing to enhance either. But tonight she'd un­doubtedly made a special effort. Her form-fitting black satin dress revealed her slender yet adequately round fig­ure.

  Watching her, appreciating her feminine charms, he sighed, all the while keeping a phony smile in place. Such a shame. Such a waste. If Ms. Leone had busied herself with womanly things and kept her nose out of affairs that should remain men's business, she might have lived to be a grandmother. But her liberal feminist aggression would more than likely be the death of her.

  Elsa had spoken to the audience from her heart, but without sharing her own personal tragedies that had been precipitated by alcohol and drug addiction. As far as any­one in Maysville, Mississippi knew, Elsa's campaign to help clean up the crime-ridden part of the city came from her desire to accomplish something positive for the com­munity simply because she was a good person.

  And I am a good person, Elsa thought as she finished off the last sips of ginger ale in the crystal flute before heading toward the cloak room to retrieve her coat. It wasn't that she was always a nice person, though God knew she tried to be. However, she didn't have the type of personality that allowed her to suffer fools gladly. She had always expected the best from herself and found it incomprehensible that anyone would waste their life by not living up to their potential.

  Just as she retrieved her sensible black wool winter coat, a large, warm hand touched her back. She froze instantly. Glancing over her shoulder, she stared directly into the faded blue eyes of Ellison Southwell Mays, the scion of Maysville's oldest and most prestigious family. She barely knew the man; and Elsa disliked virtual strangers touching her. Besides, there was something odd about Mr. Mays, a man of indeterminable age—somewhere between forty and sixty, she surmised.

  "Just wanted to tell you how delighted we are to have a real hot-blooded little go-getter like you firing up the folks around here." Mr. Mays's hand lingered on Elsa's back, making her feel downright uncomfortable.

  "Thank you." She offered him a weak smile. She had learned early on after she moved to Maysville that it was wise not to offend certain people—particularly the old guard, who possessed social and economic influence over the entire county.


  "Ms. Leone," a male voice called to her, giving her a diplomatic reason to pull away from Mr. Mays.

  "Excuse me, please." Keeping a forced smile in place, Elsa slipped away, walking toward Maysville's local boy who made good, Harry Colburn, an up-and-coming young entrepreneur. Her smile turned genuine for Harry. "Thanks for coming tonight, Mr. Colburn. We certainly appreciate your support. Your pledge to MGS prompted others to dig deep and give as generously as you did."

  Harry grinned, a rather shy yet charmingly boyish smile, and Elsa thought for at least the dozenth time how incred­ibly good-looking this man was. A real pretty boy, with his curly black hair and honey-brown eyes.

  "Please, call me Harry. And I was pleased to do you a favor, Elsa." Harry didn't touch her, except with his dark, pensive gaze. "You've worked wonders since taking over the reins at WJMM. When was it—only eight months ago?"

  Her shoulders heaved as she sighed. "Yes, we've been here eight and a half months, but sometimes it seems as if I've lived in Maysville for years. I've truly come to love this town and the people here."

  "And we've come to love you."

  Elsa tried not to read too much into Harry's comment, despite the way he kept looking at her—as if she were some delectable dessert he wanted to sample.

  The corridor outside the ballroom grew congested as people began leaving, person after person pausing long enough to speak to Elsa and congratulate her and thank her for WJMM's support for the MGS group.

  "Not as long as I've been police chief have we had so many Honey Town residents working with us instead of against us to clean up that part of town," Chief Van Flem­ing told her.

  And Mayor Noah Wright added his own strong praise. "Elsa's been a godsend for Maysville. Yes sir, that's for sure."

  Occasionally Elsa felt overwhelmed by all the acco­lades, but she accepted everyone's good wishes as grace­fully as she knew how. For a girl who'd grown up very poor, very plain and very shy, being in the spotlight was often difficult for her. But she had spent most of her thirty years working extremely hard to make something of her­self, so she was determined to enjoy the success she had achieved. It did her ego a world of good to be accepted by everyone who was anyone in this lazy little Mississippi town. And everyone included not only the mayor and the police chief, but people like Ellison's aunt Nella South­well, the old grand dame of local society, as well as Mays­ville Junior College president, Bruce Alden.

  "Would you like a ride home?" Harry Colburn asked when the crowd began to thin.

  "Oh, no, thank you," she replied. "I have my car. I'm going straight to the station. Troy's truck has been in the garage for a couple of days and he'll need a ride home from work. Besides, I have tons of things I can catch up on at the station until it's time for him to leave."

  "Your brother is quite industrious," Harry said. "At­tending junior college full-time and working at WJMM."

  Elsa simply smiled and nodded. She was proud of Troy, prouder than anyone in town would ever know. Since he'd been a kid, her twenty-year-old brother had fought a cou­rageous battle against drug addiction. He'd been clean and sober for nearly two years now and she had high hopes that at long last he'd turned his life around. Accepting this job in Maysville had not only given her a wonderful career opportunity, but it had given her brother a chance to start over with a clean slate in a town where no one knew about his past.

  "Let me walk you out." Harry lifted his hand to her elbow, then looked at her, as if asking permission.

  "Certainly."

  He cupped her elbow and escorted her to the parking area at the side of the finest hotel in Maysville, a new and elegant structure completed only three years ago by one of Harry's many business interests, Colburn Construction.

  When Elsa slid behind the wheel of her Honda Civic and started to close the door, Harry leaned down and said, "Why don't we have dinner together sometime soon?"

  Pleasantly surprised, Elsa simply stared at him for a few minutes, then snapped out of her momentary stupor and replied, "Yes, why don't we." Harry was considered the most eligible bachelor in town, and every single female dreamed of a date with him. And he'd just asked her out!

  Elsa liked Harry. She found him intriguing as well as devastatingly handsome. And it didn't hurt that he was filthy rich. It wasn't that he made her heart beat faster or created butterflies in her tummy, but then she wasn't really looking for that type of relationship. She was a logical, sensible, realistic woman. Earth-shattering passion wasn't for her, thank you very much. But marriage to the right sort of man was definitely in her game plan.

  On the ten-minute drive from the Magnolia Plaza to WJMM's headquarters, Elsa contemplated the date she'd made with Harry Colburn for this Friday night. He'd said they would drive into Memphis, so that meant they'd have an hour alone together in his sleek black Mercedes, an hour to become better acquainted. Just the thought of a real date both excited and unnerved Elsa. Would it be obvious to an experienced man-about-town like Harry that she was a novice at the game of dating? She'd spent practically every waking moment since she'd been little more than a kid taking care of her younger siblings when they'd all been left orphans. Dating had been a luxury of time that she hadn't been able to afford, neither as a teenager nor an ambitious young adult. Family obligations, school and work had always come first. Maybe it was time she put more effort into acquiring a real social life. Accepting a date with the most eligible bachelor in town was a great start. Who knew what might happen.

  Elsa zipped her white Honda into her reserved parking space outside the studio, less than fifteen feet from the main entrance. Before getting out of the car, she looked all around the brightly lit lot. Although she felt safe in this area of Maysville, she never took chances when it came to her personal safety. Everything appeared normal to her. Nothing out of place. After getting out, she locked her car, then turned up the collar on her wool coat to help block the frigid January wind. The winter weather in North Mis­sissippi was like the weather in much of the mid-South— unpredictable. One day might be sunny, with temperatures in the sixties, then a cold front could sweep through, drop­ping temperatures and bringing sleet and snow.

  Eager to get inside and out of the below-freezing cold, Elsa stepped lively around the back of the car and headed straight for the studio entrance. But before her feet touched the walkway, she heard the roar of a car's engine. Just as she glanced over her shoulder, a late-model truck came speeding toward her.

  Oh, my God!

  Realizing that whoever was behind the wheel was either intent on hitting her or had lost control of his vehicle, Elsa ran toward the door. The truck careened off the pavement and onto the sidewalk, still coming right at her.

  The sidewalk ended at the door, a metal awning cov­ering the entrance. As a safety measure, no one could enter the studio unless they knew the code to punch into the entry keypad or unless someone from inside opened the door. While she prayed like mad, her nervous fingers hit the four digits. The lock released only seconds before the truck reached Elsa. Just as she swung the door open, the truck's hood rammed into the doorframe, blocking the en­trance. If the door had unlocked a millisecond later, she would have been crushed between the truck's hood and the glass door.

  Toppling over in her rush to escape the truck's deadly path, Elsa fell to her knees in the carpeted reception area. Not waiting to see if the driver intended to get out and come after her or escape while he could, Elsa opened her mouth and screamed at the top of her lungs.

  Chapter 1

  I'm perfectly all right," Elsa said for what seemed like the hundredth time in the past forty-five minutes. "I'm not going to the hospital. I'm just a little shaky, that's all."

  Kneeling in front of her where she sat on the leather sofa in her office, Troy looked pointedly at her tattered stockings and red knees. "At least go in the bathroom and take those things off and let's put some antiseptic on that carpet burn."

  Despite the situation, Elsa smiled at her brother. "I never thought
I'd live to see the day when you'd be trying to take care of me. God, honey, you sounded almost moth­erly."

  Troy chuckled. "So, are you going to let me play caring brother or not? If so, how about following my orders?" He nodded toward the private bathroom adjacent to her office. "And I might as well tell you now, so if you're going to yell at me you can get it over with while Chief Fleming and his guys are still outside, questioning every­body and looking over the crime scene. . ."

  Elsa settled her gaze on Troy's face, noting the uncer­tainty in his expression. Oh, great, what had he done now? "Tell me what you've done."

  Before he could reply, Dr. Lurleen Patton came rushing into the office, a bright yellow WJMM mug in her hand. "Brought you some herbal tea. My own private stock." She handed Elsa the mug, then sat down beside her and sighed dramatically as she patted Elsa's leg just above one sore, red knee.

  No one would ever guess from just looking at Lurleen that she was a psychiatrist. There was nothing academic or professional looking about the woman. At thirty-eight, the hostess of WJMM's late-night talk show, Ask Dr. Pa-ton, looked like a supermodel. Leenie was tall, thin, glam­orous, with a mane of long, strawberry-blond hair and lu­minous blue eyes. The woman definitely had it all—looks, brains and personality.

  "Thanks." Elsa took a sip of the delicious hot tea, then set the mug aside on the end table before turning back to her brother. "What did you do?"

  "I—er—I called Grace Tyree and told her what hap­pened."

  "Damn, Troy, why did—"

  "Because she owns WJMM and she's not only your boss but your friend. She needs to know that things have gone way beyond a few threatening phone calls and let­ters." Huffing in exasperation, Troy grasped Elsa's shoul­ders. "Dammit, sis, somebody tried to kill you tonight. I think that warrants calling Grace."

  Elsa nodded. Troy released her and stood. Lurleen looked back and forth between the two of them, then said, "Troy's right, you know. Elsa, sugar, this thing has gotten way out of hand. Someone means business. And you have no idea who this person is." She glanced toward the door, apparently checking to see if anyone was listening, then continued, ' 'Chief Fleming can do only so much to protect you. What you need is a full-time bodyguard. And it's Ms. Tyree's responsibility to provide that for you. After all, she's the one who gave you the go-ahead to put all of WJMM's resources at work for the Maysville Good Sa­maritans."