Authors: Iris Johansen
K
ELLY LOOKED BACK
over her shoulder and waved cheerfully at the two furious men who were glaring at them. Then she turned around and settled herself comfortably in the plush gray velvet bucket seat. “They appeared to be a trifle annoyed with me, didn’t they?” she asked lightly. “Do you think they’ll try to follow us by car?”
“How the hell should I know?” Nick said, between his teeth. His eyes were fixed straight ahead as he negotiated the traffic, and his knuckles as he grasped the steering wheel were white with tension. “It depends on how badly they want that film in your camera.”
Kelly affectionately caressed the Leica on her lap. “They seemed to want it very badly, indeed.” She chuckled. “By the way, what on earth did you do to that baldheaded joker to put him out of commission so efficiently?”
“I applied pressure on the cortex nerve in his neck,” he said tersely. “A light pressure causes unconsciousness, more can kill a man.”
The coldness of the statement shook Kelly for a minute, but she rallied swiftly. “You do have the most interesting facts stored in that computer brain of yours,” she said teasingly. She was on a curious high, her blood pumping that exhilarating adrenaline, but it seemed that Nick was not sharing her excitement. She stole a glance sidewise at his grim, set expression and repressed a slight shiver. No, Nick was definitely upset, and that was completely out of character. She frowned in puzzlement. She knew enough about Nick’s background to know that under normal circumstances he would have thoroughly enjoyed this brouhaha. Why was he so uptight tonight? “That must be a very handy thing to know. You must teach it to me sometime.”
“It wouldn’t have done you much good tonight,” he said bitterly. “Your friend who looked like a sumo wrestler could have broken your back like a matchstick if he’d chosen. Or hadn’t that occurred to you?”
It hadn’t, as a matter of fact, and she was not about to dwell on it now that the danger was past. “He did rather look like a sumo wrestler, didn’t he?” she asked. “My first impression was the Incredible Hulk, but your description comes much closer.” Her eyes darkened thoughtfully. “They certainly got upset over one little photograph. I’ll have to have this developed as soon as I get back to the hotel and see if I can find out who they are.”
Nick swore and shot her a sidewise glance that was definitely menacing. “Are you telling me you deliberately caused that riot back there, and you didn’t even know whose picture you were taking?”
“I knew that they were VIPs,” she defended. “I just didn’t know who they were.” She frowned crossly. “And I didn’t deliberately start the trouble at the disco. It just happened. How did I
know that they were going to react so violently to having their picture taken?”
“ ‘It just happened,’ ” he mimicked caustically. “Disasters like that seem to happen to you with suspicious regularity. You rush in where angels fear to tread, and then you’re surprised when a land mine blows up under your feet!”
“I was just doing my job,” she said hotly. “I’m a reporter, damn it! I know very well there’s a story behind that beard if I can just tag a name to it.”
“The name is Sheikh Abdul Khadir,” Nick said tersely, “and the other man is Colonel Ramon Cordero.”
Kelly’s eyes widened in surprise. “You knew all the time!” she accused indignantly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I knew you’d do exactly what you did,” he growled. “Once you’d sniffed a story of that potential, you wouldn’t have given up no matter how dangerous the ramifications were. Khadir is OPEC’s moneyman and principal troubleshooter. He was bound to have a few toughs on hand for protection and persuasion.”
“And who is Ramon Cordero?” Kelly asked.
“A very influential figure in the Mexican military establishment, as well as a man who has his fingers in quite a few choice government pies.”
“Oil reserves,” Kelly said flatly. “And some very lucrative wheeling and dealing for Colonel Cordero.” She bit her lip in concentration. “Just how powerful is the military faction in Mexico?”
“Very. And growing stronger all the time. In an economic chaos, a military junta headed by Ramon Cordero might just topple the government.”
“Oh, Lord!” Kelly whispered delightedly, her eyes glowing with excitement. “I can’t wait to get this picture to Mac. He’ll be over the moon!”
“And you’ll be about six feet underground,” Nick said grimly. “You might mention that when you tell him what a brilliant investigative reporter you are.”
“You’re exaggerating,” she protested. “There wasn’t that—”
“Shut up, damn it!” he interrupted harshly. He drew a deep breath and said slowly between his teeth, “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a little
perturbed with you, Kelly. It wouldn’t even be too far off the mark to say that I’m furious. So if you want to get back to the hotel in one piece, I suggest that you refrain from opening your mouth and making any more idiotic statements.”
“Idiotic! Nothing I’ve said or done tonight has been idiotic, and it’s—”
“Kelly!” The name was not loudly spoken, but it contained enough sheer menace to cut off her speech.
“Oh, very well.” She gave him a disgruntled glance. “But don’t think that I don’t intend to continue this discussion once we get back to the suite.”
He gave her a look so cold that it sent shivers down her spine. “I’m looking forward to it,” he said with dangerous softness.
There was a frigid silence between them until the front door of the suite closed behind them. Nick flicked on the overhead light and strode directly to the bar at the far end of the room. He poured himself a double brandy and consumed half of it in one swallow before glancing at Kelly standing in the center of the room.
“I won’t ask you if you want a drink,” he said as he came around the bar and half sat, half leaned against a white velvet, padded bar stool. “You’ve had quite an intoxicating night already, haven’t you, Kelly?”
“You’re being completely ridiculous. I refuse to stand here like a naughty child being chastised by a stern parent for merely doing my job.” Her hand tightened around the camera she was still clutching in her hand. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll take this film out and get it ready to forward to Mac.”
Nick’s lips tightened, his face grim. “I won’t excuse you,” he said flatly, then took another swallow of his brandy. “You’re not going anywhere until we have this out.” He frowned impatiently. “You needn’t worry about your precious film. You nearly paid too high a price for it for me to let anything happen to it. We’ll run it to the airport tomorrow and send it out special counter-to-counter into your editor’s eager hands. Now, put that camera away and sit down.”
Kelly thought for a moment of defying him,
but there was something intimidating about Nick at the moment. She moved with insolent leisureliness to the white velvet couch and placed the Leica on an end table before dropping down onto the couch. She waved her hand in mocking obeisance. “As my lord commands.”
“Very amusing. You’ll forgive me if I found your performance less than entertaining tonight. I never did care for black comedy.”
Kelly slipped out of her emerald sandals and tucked her feet beneath her. “Aren’t you overreacting? After all, there was no real damage done. I took a picture, and there was a little awkwardness, but no one was hurt. You’ve been involved in far worse scrapes in your career, Nick.”
“I’m not five-foot-nothing, and I don’t weigh in at less than half of my chosen antagonist,” he said sharply. “Why in the hell didn’t you just give them the film? Did it ever occur to you that Arab men don’t take kindly to being physically humiliated by a woman? I saw that baldheaded bruiser’s face, and he was killing mad. You were lucky he didn’t take you apart with his bare hands.”
“I had no idea that he was an Arab, and I was doing pretty well until he grabbed me from behind,” Kelly bristled indignantly. “You needn’t treat me like I’m some sort of fragile flower just because you helped me out of a spot. If you hadn’t been there, I’d have gotten out of it on my own. I’ve been taking care of myself for quite a few years without your intervention, Nick O’Brien!”
“It’s a wonder that you’ve managed to survive so long if tonight was an example of your damn suicidal impulsiveness.” His expression was stormy as he finished his drink in one swallow and crashed the empty glass on the bar. “Do you know how I felt when I saw you up against those two goons and knew that either one of them could put you in the hospital before I could reach you through the crowd?”
“I wouldn’t have thought you’d have noticed. If I remember, you appeared to be very occupied with Señora Dominguez before any of the rhubarb started. How did you manage to tear yourself away from the sexy señora?”
“You know that I don’t give a damn about
Maria. I only used her to try to distract your attention from Khadir.”
“That’s scarcely complimentary to either of us,” Kelly retorted fiercely, ignoring the surge of relief that rippled through her at the realization that Nick had not been as dazzled by his former mistress as she had believed. “Your little South American chili pepper may not mind your attempting to manipulate her, but I certainly do. I’ll run my life and my career to suit myself, and I’ll be damned if I’ll tolerate your interference. What if I tried to tell you how to do your job? You can bet that you’d toss my advice back into my face so fast that it would make my head swim.”
“That’s different. My job doesn’t demand that I take on a roomful of toughs just to get a story.”
“Granted,” Kelly replied with acid sweetness. “You usually do that just for entertainment. At least I had a logical reason for what I did!”
“Logical! You don’t know the meaning of the word.” His blue eyes were blazing in his angry face. “You almost got yourself killed for a damn
picture. Well, I’m tired of worrying what hell you’re going to get into next.”
“Who asked you to worry about me?” Kelly cried. “I told you that I could take care of myself!”
Nick straightened slowly, and his face was hard and set as granite. “Then I’ll leave you to do just that,” he said bitterly, as he strode swiftly to the door. “Because God knows I wish that I’d never let you into my apartment that afternoon in San Francisco!” He slammed the door behind him with explosive violence.
Kelly stared at the door for almost a minute before she could fully comprehend that he had actually left her. “Oh, damn,” she whispered, feeling the tears brim over and run helplessly down her cheeks. “Damn you, Nick O’Brien. I hate people who walk away from a fight!”
And damn her own unruly tongue, she thought miserably, as she stood up and padded slowly toward the master bedroom. Why couldn’t she have played it cool for once in her life and tried a little feminine persuasion instead of displaying her usual belligerent independence? What if
Nick was gone for good? She wandered disconsolately into the gold-and-cream-tiled bathroom, discarding her clothes carelessly as she went. She pulled on her shower cap, stepped into the shower stall, and turned on the warm spray. Annoying tears still continued to run down her face despite her efforts to stop them.
She’d certainly picked a fine time for making Nick angry, with that sultry nymphomaniac ready to leap on him. What if he was on his way to her right now? He knew where she was staying, she’d made quite sure of that. Oh, Lord, she wouldn’t be able to stand it if Nick had left her for good. Damn Nick O’Brien for having this power to tear her emotions to pieces. It wasn’t fair that anyone should be able to wreck another person’s life just by slamming a door and walking away.
She stepped out of the shower, pulled off her shower cap, reached for a voluminous white bath towel, and proceeded to dry off with automatic thoroughness. She draped the towel around her carelessly and wandered back into the bedroom, her bare feet sinking into the plush
cream carpet. She carefully folded back the gold satin spread on the bed and slipped between the sheets, tossing the towel carelessly on the floor. The silk sheets were cold and clammy against her bare flesh and only served to increase her feeling of being bereft.
She had been perfectly right to stand up to Nick, she assured herself staunchly. He had been unreasonable, chauvinistic, and completely unfair. She didn’t care a tinker’s damn if he was with that big-bosomed bitch. It certainly didn’t matter to her if he never came back. It was totally illogical, then, that after all these firm self-admonitions, she proceeded to cry herself to sleep.
The brush of his lips was petal soft against the throbbing hollow of her throat. Kelly arched her throat instinctively as those caressing lips moved lightly up her throat to her cheek and then hovered over her parted lips, nibbling at the lower one with incredible gentleness. She was aware of
a delicious sense of well-being that only half pierced the veil of sleep that enfolded her.
“Nick?” She sighed contentedly, not opening her eyes.
“Uh-huh,” he growled softly against her lips, still toying with them with that magical tenderness, playfully tugging at their pouting fullness with his teeth. “Open your mouth, love. I want to taste your sweet honey.”
He didn’t wait for her languid compliance. His marauding tongue entered and explored with leisurely enjoyment. There was no hurry, no urgency, and only a hint of underlying hunger as he garnered the sweetness he’d demanded.
Kelly slid her arms over his bare shoulders to curve around his neck, vaguely aware that he was sitting on the bed beside her and bending over her, his arms cradling her. He felt so strong, so warm, so wonderfully
here
, she thought. She had a dim, frightening memory of a loneliness so terrible that she pushed the thought away. It must have been a dream. For here was Nick holding her in his arms and locking out all the loneliness and insecurity in the world.
But it hadn’t been a dream, she recalled. “You weren’t fair, Nick,” she muttered drowsily, pressing her lips lovingly to the hard plane of his cheek. “And you walked out on me,” she recalled with languid indignation.
“Shh,” he crooned, his hands pushing the sheet from her shoulders to bare the silky hollows to his lips. “I know, love. But you nearly scared me out of my mind when I saw that tough roughing you up.” His lips brushed against her still wet lashes. “You’ve been crying,” he said wonderingly. “God, I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know it wasn’t really your fault this time.”