PALADIN'S WOMAN Read online

  Glancing out the windows onto the front lawn of her father's estate, located about ten miles outside of Huntsville, Addy thought again how much the rich green lawns and towering old trees reminded her of her mother's ancestral estate where they'd lived until Madeline's death. Wanting to escape all the agonizing memories of his son's kidnapping and subsequent murder and his wife's suicide four years later, Rusty McConnell had taken Addy away, moved her into a sparkling new mansion, pure and untainted by any reminders of a past too painful to remember. She had missed Elm Hill, the vast acres of rolling pastures and thickly wooded forests. Even now, she dreamed of someday returning and living out the rest of her life in the house where five generations of Delacourts had been born and raised. Someday … when she had laid all her fears to rest.

  Her mother and Janice's mother had been the last of the line, both women now dead, leaving only the two cousins as heirs to family pride and genteel breeding. And Elm Hill had stood vacant for twenty-five years, Janice having neither the desire nor the money to renovate the old place and Addy, with more than enough money, but not enough courage to fight the demons from her childhood.

  Instead, she'd bought a house in Huntsville's historic district, Twickenham.

  A sharp, loud knock at her bedroom door snapped Addy out of her rambling thoughts. "Yes?"

  The door opened. Mrs. Hargett stood outside in the hallway. "I'm terribly sorry to keep bothering you like this, but—"

  "Is he threatening to come and drag me downstairs kicking and screaming?" Addy laughed, remembering how many times during her difficult adolescent years her father had issued similar warnings. Having a daughter with her mother's old-fashioned breeding but none of her delicate blond beauty had often confused Rusty McConnell. But not nearly as much as the mixture of personality traits she had inherited from Madeline and himself. Cool, calm and ever the lady. Rusty liked that. What he didn't like was her stubbornness, which was one of his own most prominent qualities.

  "Yes, ma'am. That's what he said." Mrs. Hargett, small and skinny, with round black eyes that were the only bright spot in her pale colorless face, smiled, crinkling the feathery wrinkles that lined her eyes and mouth. "He ordered me to give you that message, but then he told me to wait. He looked over at that Mr. Romero, you know, Mrs. Lunden's brother-in-law."

  Agitating circles formed in the pit of Addy's stomach. "You don't have to tell me. He said to let me know that if I didn't come down, posthaste, he'd send Ni—Mr. Romero up to fetch me."

  "Mr. McConnell can be outrageous sometimes, can't he?" Mrs. Hargett shook her head, not disturbing one curl of her neatly permed short gray hair that was coated with a hair spray with the sealing powers of a good lacquer.

  "There'll be no need for a return message." Addy picked up her purse from the nightstand. "I might as well get this over with."

  Together, she and Mrs. Hargett descended the staircase, but once in the foyer the housekeeper turned toward the kitchen while Addy squared her broad shoulders and marched into the dining room.

  Rusty McConnell disliked antique furniture. Elm Hill had been filled with five generations of acquisition. Every stick of furniture in this mansion was expensive and new. Rusty sat at the head of the dark oak dining table, a traditional-style buffet at his back, an enormous matching china cabinet at the opposite end of the room, directly behind Dina, who turned and glared at Addy, a look of resentment in her cool blue eyes. Addy wondered what had prompted that look. Something was going on. More than she'd bargained for, she feared.

  "About time you got down here." Rusty flicked the ashes from the tip of his cigar into a small brass tray. "We've all finished with breakfast."

  "I'm not hungry." Addy, her steps quick and unfaltering, sailed past Dina, not even acknowledging her presence. She stopped briefly to touch Brett on the back. He turned his bright smile on her. "Good morning."

  "Why the hell did you put on that dirty, ripped dress you were wearing last night?" Rusty asked, scooting his chair backward, preparing to stand. "You've got a closet full of clothes in your room."

  Standing by her father's chair, Addy placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. "Don't get up, Daddy." She bent down, kissing him on the cheek. "You really should have given those clothes to Goodwill or the Salvation Army years ago."

  Rusty grunted, then gave his daughter a quick kiss on her forehead. "Sit down. We've got a lot to discuss."

  "Make it quick." Addy didn't sit down. Picking up a cup filled with hot, black coffee, she brought it to her lips. "I'm going home, so don't try to stop me."

  "I knew you wouldn't want to stay here," Rusty said. "So I've made arrangements to keep you safe in your own home."

  Addy sipped the strong, eye-opening coffee. Suspiciously glaring at her father, she tried to figure out why he was being so agreeable. She'd been sure she'd have a battle royal on her hands this morning, certain he'd insist she move back into the mansion and be kept under lock and key twenty-four hours a day. "What's the catch?"

  "I've hired protection for you." Rusty ran the tip of his big, meaty finger around his empty cup. Smiling, he glanced up at Addy, a mischievous twinkle in his green eyes.

  "What did you do, call Sam Dundee this morning and have him fly in some of his men?" Addy hated the thought of someone following her every move, but it was an acceptable alternative to moving back to her father's house.

  "I talked to Sam. He's arranging some extra security, but he suggested a private bodyguard for you, someone he thinks is the best my money could buy." Sticking his cigar back in his mouth, Rusty inhaled deeply, then released a cloud of smoke.

  Addy felt the tension in the room, an underlying tremor of emotions coming from the others sitting around the table. She glanced over at Brett, handsome, syrupy sweet Brett, who simply smiled at her. But there was something in his eyes, an odd look that Addy didn't understand. Turning her attention to Dina, she again noted the resentment the other woman couldn't disguise.

  Taking a deep breath, she finally looked at Nick Romero, whose tight jeans and cotton knit shirt took nothing away from his aura of sophistication. The tiny diamond stud glistened against his bronze earlobe. Addy tried not to remember the way he'd kissed her, the way he'd made her feel. She didn't want to have any more romantic fantasies about him being her personal champion, her paladin. But the minute she looked at him, her control slipped. A tingling warmth spread through her. She fought it, annoyed. Nick stared at her, his face blank.

  "What do you mean, a private bodyguard?" She didn't like the sound of it.

  "Sit down, little girl." Rusty reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a rumpled sheet of paper. "Take a look at this."

  Addy picked up the paper, scanning the typewritten words. Addy McConnell will not be harmed if you follow our instructions. We will contact you soon with our demands. Do not involve the authorities. Your daughter's life depends on your cooperation.

  Pulling out a chair, Addy sat down beside Brett Windsor. He casually laid his arm across the back of her chair. "It came in the morning mail," he said. "Rusty's been horribly upset since he read it."

  "These kidnappers were so sure of themselves that they mailed this yesterday." Rusty grabbed the letter out of Addy's trembling fingers. "Nick has already talked to the police and the FBI as well as Sam Dundee."

  Jerking around, Addy glared at Nick, whose face was still as unreadable to her as hieroglyphics. "You've put Nick in charge?"

  "Considering his background and connections, he volunteered." Rusty cleared his throat, and Addy knew he was trying not to reveal how overwrought he was, how deeply disturbed he was by the memories of that long-ago kidnapping that had ended so tragically. Addy would give anything to prevent the pain she knew he was feeling. Rusty McConnell was a good man. He didn't deserve such torment.

  "The letter and envelope it came in will be thoroughly tested, but my guess is that it will be clean, the stationery the kind you can buy anywhere." Nick tapped the edge of the table with his index finger. "T
he type is computer printer. Most likely from a computer available to a vast number of people."

  Addy watched Nick's finger as he continued tapping lightly on the table. She hated herself for remembering the way that finger had caressed her lips. "I suppose I should thank you, once again, for all your help, Mr. Romero. Too bad you're leaving in a couple of days. Going to El Paso to visit your grandmother, aren't you?"

  Addy glanced at Dina, whose perfectly made-up face paled slightly, the lush pink blusher on her cheeks seeming overly bright. Her father's fiancée now knew that she'd overheard part of her early morning conversation with Nick.

  "Maria is going to be so upset by your change in plans," Dina said, clasping her hands in front of her, cushioning them against her breasts. She looked pleadingly at Rusty. "She's eighty-five, you know, and hasn't seen Nick in over a year."

  "Why have you changed your plans?" Addy's heart sank. She didn't want this man here, disrupting her life, especially not now when she was going to have to fight her father to maintain her hard-won independence. She wasn't sure she had the strength to fight two domineering men.

  "Your father has asked me to stay on, to help out." Nick leaned back in his chair, glancing first at Addy while he talked, then turning to Rusty. "You might as well go ahead and tell her. She's not going to like it."

  "Addy—"

  "Tell me what? About the extra security Sam Dundee has arranged, and about these private bodyguards?" Addy hated the way her father hesitated, realizing that he dreaded what he had to say. "More security here at the house? At the company?"

  "Some, yes, but mostly for you," Rusty said.

  "At the M.A.C. day-care center, right? And bodyguards to watch my house and follow me wherever I go?" She did hate the thought of losing her privacy and a good deal of her freedom, but she wasn't stupid. She knew when her father did something out of overprotectiveness and when it really was for her own good. "I don't like it, but I realize that it's necessary until the authorities discover whoever's behind this kidnap scheme."

  "You're being very sensible about this," Dina said. "Rusty was so sure you'd rebel."

  Addy thought that her future stepmother sounded disappointed that she wasn't fighting her father. "As long as Daddy understands that I'm not going to leave my home or give up my job, then he can hire a dozen bodyguards for all I care."

  "He hasn't hired a dozen bodyguards for you," Brett said, his dazzling smile still in place. "Just one."

  "I don't understand." Addy turned to her father. "One man can't stay awake twenty-four hours a day."

  "He won't need to if he's sleeping at the foot of your bed." Brett glanced across the table, giving Nick a hard look.

  "What?" Shoving her chair backward, Addy jumped to her feet.

  Rusty slammed his big fist down on the table, the jar bouncing the china, crystal and silverware, creating sharp tinkling sounds. Creamed coffee sloshed out of Brett's cup. The centerpiece vase of roses teetered, but didn't topple over.

  "Sam Dundee is sending some men for around-the-clock surveillance, at your house and at work, but I want someone right by your side, twenty-four hours a day, keeping you safe. Somebody with experience as a fighter, a warrior. A man who can kill to protect you if it comes to that."

  "You've asked Sam Dundee to send a man to stay with me twenty-four hours a day?" Hot, spitting indignation filled her. She could not accept this decree. "No, absolutely not! I'm willing to agree to almost anything else, but not a live-in caretaker."

  "I'm sorry, Addy, but I can't give you a choice in the matter." Rusty stood up and reached out for his daughter, then dropped his arms when she moved away from him.

  "What if … if I agree to move back here?" Did her father have any idea what that offer had cost her? She was willing to take a step back into her sheltered past, if only he'd be reasonable.

  "Wherever you stay and whatever you do, Nick is going to be with you. Do you understand that from now until the kidnapper is caught, Nick Romero is going to be your shadow?" Rusty tried again to touch his daughter. Again she retreated.

  "Nick Romero?" Addy exclaimed.

  "Sam Dundee agreed that he was the best man for the job," Rusty said. "I thought so myself, but had a few doubts because of Nick's … er … well, his bum leg. But Sam assured me that he doesn't have a man as capable as Nick. Sam said Nick Romero was the best."

  "I tried to convince your father that Nick wasn't fully recovered, that his being crippled would prevent him from being able to do the best job of protecting you." Dina clutched the white linen napkin in her small hands, twisting it around and around, her sharp pink nails biting into the material.

  "His being crippled certainly didn't prevent him from rescuing me last night," Addy said, then realized, too late, that she'd just defended the last man on earth she wanted protecting her.

  "Romero always has been the physical type," Brett said, surveying Nick's big body with a touch of superiority and a great deal of disdain. "Brawn over brains, so to speak."

  "A Navy SEAL and a top DEA agent has to have plenty of smarts," Rusty said, eyeing Brett with contempt. "And he's the only man I know, besides myself, that I'd trust to take care of my little girl."

  Addy didn't like the look her father gave Nick. It said they shared some special secret. Why did her father trust Nick so completely, especially with her life?

  Dina voiced Addy's thoughts. "You certainly took an instant liking to Nick, didn't you?"

  "Sure did," Rusty said.

  "Of course, I've known Nick almost all my life and I trust him, but—well … Addy's life will be quite safe with him, but I'm not sure about her virtue." Dina's smile radiated a frosty warning.

  Addy glared at the older woman. Brett appeared shocked. Nick smiled. Rusty bellowed with laughter.

  "Addy can protect her own virtue if she wants to," Rusty said, still chuckling. "I'm well aware of your brother-in-law's reputation with the ladies. I've got one myself. Nothing wrong with a man liking women!"

  "Are you saying that you don't mind if Addy has to fight Nick off every night?" Dina ran her gaze over Addy's slender body encased in the simple gray dress, spotted with dirt and ripped on one sleeve. "Even though Addy's hardly his type, sooner or later, she's bound to appeal to him if the two of them are together constantly."

  "Addy's not his type, huh?" Rusty reached out, pulling his daughter close to his side. She didn't resist. "Likes 'em shorter and fuller and sexier, huh?"

  "I think Addy is lovely," Brett said. "She has a real cameo beauty, and such elegance."

  "Thank you, Brett." Addy jabbed her father in the ribs with her elbow.

  "If the time comes when Addy starts looking good to Nick, then I think she'll know how to handle him," Rusty said. "Addy not only looks like me, she's smart like me. She'll know exactly what to do with a man like Nick."

  There was a conspiracy afoot. Addy was certain. Her father and Nick Romero knew something that no one else in this room knew. Something about her and Nick.

  "I'm totally opposed to Nick getting involved in all this." Dina dropped her twisted napkin on the table. "He isn't physically sound. His last operation was only six weeks ago."

  "I know how fond you are of Nick," Rusty said. "But he's quite fit. Sam Dundee told me himself that he'd offered Nick a job with him as soon as he'd finished his visit to El Paso."

  "Well, Addy, what are we going to do with these men?" Dina asked, but she didn't look at the younger woman.

  "You can do whatever you want," Addy said. "I'm going home."

  "Not without Nick," Rusty said, giving her a tight hug.

  Addy pulled out of her father's embrace, turned to Nick and smiled. "We can go in your car. Mine's at home since Daddy sent the limo for me last night."

  Nick stood, retrieving his cane from its resting place against the side of the table. Walking toward Addy, he offered her his arm. She glanced from his smiling face to his big arm, then looked over at Dina, who was watching them intently, a frown marring her p
erfect features. Addy slipped her arm through Nick's. "I wouldn't dream of making you sleep at the foot of my bed," Addy said, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

  "I could take that as an invitation to share your bed."

  "It is an invitation—for you to sleep in my guest bedroom."

  "That won't do," Nick said. "I'll be too far away."

  "It's the room next to mine."

  "I should be in the room with you."

  Addy realized that three pairs of eyes watched them and three sets of ears listened to every word they said. When they reached the door leading into the foyer, she paused, glancing around the room. Her father seemed a little too pleased with himself. Brett was still smiling, but that odd look hadn't left his eyes. Dina was positively seething with jealousy. Addy wondered if her father was too blind to see it.

  "We'll work something out," Addy said, then lowered her voice to a whisper as she and Nick stepped out into the foyer. "You are not staying in my room. I—I'm not going to fight Daddy about this. He's scared. Anything could happen with his high blood pressure and bad heart. I may have to endure your presence twenty-four hours a day, but I will not have you invading my bedroom."

  "I never enter a lady's bedroom uninvited."

  "Good. That settles it, then."

  "Does it?" Nick asked, his smile widening at the look of surprise on Addy's face.

  * * *

  Huntsville traffic, especially on a Saturday morning, was maddening, but no better or worse than in any bustling city its size. Nick maneuvered his '68 silver Jag out of slow moving lanes and into more rapid ones, deftly avoiding the areas under construction as much as possible. The drive from the McConnell estate to the Twickenham district took almost twenty minutes. During the entire drive, Addy had been subdued. He'd wondered if she was pouting, but decided she wasn't the type. She was too direct. More likely, she was thinking about what had happened last night, how close she'd come to being a victim, and how drastically her life would change during the following days, maybe even weeks or months. There was no way to tell how quickly the authorities would nab the would-be kidnapper, or even if they would ever discover his or her identity. Money, if that were the true motive for the kidnapping, was a powerful inducement. There was the constant danger that he or she would try again.