Hero For Hire. Jill Shalvis
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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.
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