The Bronzed Hawk (16 page)

Nick’s eyes narrowed on her face, and he studied her demure expression and the flicker of mischief in her green eyes thoughtfully. “Okay,” he said abruptly. “But you’ll not go alone. If you’re so set on taking the dive, then we’ll both do it. I’ll see about hiring a diver tomorrow to give us instructions.” He leaned back in his chair and grinned. “Since I’m paying the tab, I’m sure that you won’t mind my taking the first dive.”

Kelly’s eyes flew to his face in swift alarm. “You’re joking,” she said uncertainly. Nick’s hard expression gave no clue to his thoughts, and she had a sinking sensation that he meant it. “Do you know anything about diving?”

“Not much,” Nick admitted cheerfully. “But then I didn’t know anything about hot air ballooning until I tried it.”

“If you recall, your attempt at that couldn’t exactly be termed a success,” she said, biting her lip worriedly.

“But you’ve made it sound so appealing, I find I can’t wait to try it. What do we care if there’s a little danger involved?”

“A little danger! Just a slight miscalculation
would send you crashing into those jagged rocks instead of the sea.” She felt almost ill at the thought of Nick’s body hurtling through space with those murderous rocks waiting below. Oh, God, why hadn’t she let it alone? She knew Nick’s fondness for taking chances, and now there was every probability that she was going to have to stand and watch him risk his life on those damn cliffs.

“I’ve changed my mind,” she said desperately. “I don’t want to do it.”

“You’re sure?” Nick inquired, arching a dark brow quizzically. “What about the thrill of flying through the air like a bird?”

She shrugged carelessly. “It can’t be all that exciting.” She heard Nick’s low chuckle and glanced at him suspiciously. His dark face was alight with satisfaction. “Did you set me up, Nick O’Brien?” she demanded indignantly. “Would you have been at that clifftop tomorrow?”

“You’ll never really be sure, will you, Kelly?” he said teasingly. Then his eyes darkened, and the amusement gradually faded from his face. “The only thing that you can be certain of is
that from now on before you leap from
any
cliff, either literally or figuratively, you’ll have to stand by and watch me do it first.”

A wave of emotion, a bewildering mixture of happiness and panic, washed over her. How maddeningly clever of him to realize the silken bonds that his words placed on her. She knew that she’d never be able to watch Nick deliberately put himself in danger without trying to stop him. “You’re a wily devil, Nick O’Brien! But has it occurred to you that that particular sword cuts both ways?”

“Oh, yes, I realized that. And I can’t say that I like my actions being curbed any more than you do. Keeping that pretty neck of yours in one piece is posing more problems than I ever dreamed possible.” He took her hand in his. “While we’re together I guess we’ll just have to get our thrills in the bedroom.”

She looked away and tried to ignore the sharp pain that the transient note of that last comment had given her. “I guess we will,” she said huskily.

She forced her thoughts back to the present. As she looked down at their clasped hands on
the nightclub table and listened idly to the blaring disco music, she could not imagine an existence without Nick O’Brien at her side. The thrills hadn’t all been in the bedroom, she thought contentedly. Besides the really breathtaking sexual affinity that existed between them, they struck sparks off of each other mentally as well. Nick probably could have annihilated her in any real discussion, but there was not a hint of patronage in his manner as he listened to her opinions and arguments. She also found that they shared both a sense of the ridiculous and a restless curiosity. Add it all together and the sum was encouraging enough to fill her with hope for the future. She had been practically walking on air for the past two weeks, and Nick had seemed as contented as she. His desire for her had seemed to grow and not diminish, and they spent a shocking amount of time in each other’s arms exploring that most fiery and primitive of pleasures. But she was almost sure that he also found the less turbulent aspects of their relationship as satisfying as she did. She couldn’t have imagined the tenderness that she
sometimes detected in his face in even their most platonic moments.

“You’re very quiet suddenly. Are you sure you don’t want to go back to the hotel?” Nick asked gently. “If you’re tired, we can come back tomorrow evening to see your ‘beautiful people.’ ”

She shook her head. “No, I’m not tired,” she said, looking around the dimly lit room disappointedly. “But I certainly don’t see anyone who looks particularly exotic here.” She pouted. “You’ve been known to run with that pack occasionally. Don’t you recognize anyone?”

Nick shook his head. “Sorry, Kelly. Maybe nobody told them that this was supposed to be their favorite hangout. Why are you so interested in the Acapulco jet set?”

“I thought I’d get a few photos to send to Mac to prove that I’m not just sitting on my duff while we’re waiting for our papers to come through,” she said, her gaze still searching the room. “He wasn’t too pleased about the delay when I talked to him on the phone last week. He said it was taking longer to get out of Mexico than if it was an iron curtain country.”

“Didn’t you tell him about the marriage complication?” Nick asked casually.

Kelly shook her head. “I would never hear the end of it. Mac is certain that I’m trouble prone anyway. There’s no sense giving him additional ammunition to play with. No, I’ll just try to get him some filler shots to pacify him. That is if I—” She suddenly broke off, her hand tightening on Nick’s. She bent forward to ask excitedly, “Nick, look at that booth in the far right corner of the room on the other side of the dance floor. Those two men are very familiar. Do you know who they are?”

Nick glanced casually at the two well-dressed men in the booth that she’d indicated, and his face abruptly became totally expressionless. “They look just like any other well-to-do businessmen,” he said. “They’re not the jet-setter types that you’re looking for, Kelly.”

Her gaze narrowed suspiciously. “Are you sure you don’t know who they are, Nick? I’m sure that I’ve seen both of them somewhere before. If I recognize them, then someone with a memory like yours surely would.”

“I said that they weren’t who you were looking for,” he said impatiently, frowning. “Now drop it, Kelly.”

She bristled in annoyance. “You’re being awfully evasive, Nick. Why won’t you—”

“Nick,
querido
, how wonderful to see you again.” The woman’s voice was deep and sultry, and Kelly didn’t even have to turn around to see the woman who possessed it to know that her appearance would match it. She had heard that voice before, and quite recently at that.

“Hello, Maria, this is a surprise,” Nick said coolly, looking over Kelly’s shoulder at the woman who had greeted him. “What brings you to Acapulco?”

Maria drifted forward in a cloud of very potent Chanel No. 5 to lean over and kiss Nick lingeringly on the lips. “I’m visiting the Gomezes at their villa. Don’t you remember that I said I might come down in a week or so,
querido
?” She smiled at him, patently ignoring Kelly. “Acapulco is usually most amusing in this season, but I’ve been quite bored—until tonight.”

Nick had said that she was obvious, Kelly
thought gloomily, and she couldn’t conceive of a more blatant invitation than the one she was offering Nick at the moment. She was practically melting all over him, Kelly noticed disgustedly, and he certainly wasn’t resisting. Well, who would want to resist a dark, lush beauty like Maria Dominguez? In a white lamé halter gown slashed almost to her waist in front and baring her back to her very curvaceous derriere, she looked more like a Hollywood sex goddess than the wife of a government official. Even her face was sexy, with those sloe black eyes and a pouty mouth framed by that long, glossy, dark mane.

Nick at last pulled his attention away and turned to Kelly. “Kelly, I’d like you to meet an old friend, Maria Dominguez,” he said, his lips twitching with amusement. “This is Kelly McKenna, Maria.”

“Delighted,” Maria said lifelessly, not taking her gaze off O’Brien. Good Lord, the woman was practically eating him up with those hungry, dark eyes. “Are you going to dance with me, Nick?”

Obvious, indeed. Nick didn’t appear to resent
being pursued, however. He grinned tolerantly and said, “It would hardly be courteous to leave Kelly alone at the table, Maria.”

“Don’t mind me,” Kelly muttered crossly, her envious eyes assessing the portion of Maria Dominguez’s anatomy that Nick had said he favored. She wasn’t about to sit here and watch the Latin woman attempt to seduce Nick. She jumped to her feet and grabbed her purse from the table. “I was just going to powder my nose anyway.” She flounced off in the general direction of the restroom. She distinctly heard Nick swearing under his breath, but she wasn’t about to return and be forced to watch Nick’s former mistress trying to work her sensual magic on him. She stayed in the restroom for a good fifteen minutes. She carefully redid her makeup, ran a comb through her hair, then spent the time sitting impatiently with her hands folded, waiting for the minutes to pass and fuming about the aggressive boldness of a certain South American woman.

The sight that met her eyes when she finally left the powder room didn’t improve her temper.
It took only one swift glance to determine that there was no one at the table and another to spot Nick and Maria on the dance floor. He obviously hadn’t seen fit to get rid of her, she thought moodily, watching Nick’s amused smile as he looked down into the woman’s vivacious face. She stood at the edge of the dance floor debating whether she should just leave the club and grab a taxi back to the hotel or meekly return to the table and wait for Nick to finish amusing himself with the luscious Maria. It didn’t take her long to come to a decision.

She was turning to make her way through the crowd toward the front entrance when she caught sight of the two businessmen whom she and Nick had been discussing before his former mistress had arrived. She stopped, a puzzled frown clouding her face. Despite what Nick had said, she was sure she’d seen both men somewhere before. Now that she was only a few yards from the booth where they were sitting, she was even more convinced that she was right. Particularly the large bearded one in the gray pin-striped suit. That hawk nose and bushy black
brows were characteristics that could scarcely be forgotten, once seen. Well, she couldn’t stand around undecided, gawking at them all evening. She’d just have to take a few shots of them and study the prints later.

She reached into her purse and brought out her Leica before tucking the purse under her arm and winding her way determinedly toward the men in the booth. She paused a few yards away and lifted the camera from where it had been hidden in the flowing panels of her chiffon skirt and focused it swiftly.

“Say cheese, gentlemen,” she said clearly, then shot the picture as they both looked up startled. “Thank you,” she caroled cheerfully and walked swiftly away.

She had gone only a few paces when two burly men in dark suits suddenly erupted from a nearby table and stepped in front of her menacingly. Kelly’s eyes widened in alarm as she took in the truly intimidating bulk of the men and the fierce scowls on their faces. As an experienced journalist, she was quite familiar with the
genus
bodyguard and these specimens were easily
recognizable. She felt a thrill of satisfaction surge through her as she realized that she must have hit pay dirt after all. Unknowns didn’t hire professional bodyguards to protect them. Now all she had to do was get the film safely out of the reach of these goons and find out just who she’d unearthed.

That task might be more difficult than it sounded, she thought warily, as the enormous baldheaded guard circled behind her, while the smaller but equally husky man stepped toward her aggressively. He held out his hand commandingly.
“La cámara, por favor.”

“No way, buster,” she said sweetly, smiling at him serenely. “Haven’t you ever heard of the freedom of the press?”

It seemed that neither of them had, for she felt the baldheaded man’s arms suddenly envelop her from behind. She kicked back at his shin with all her force, and he gave an agonized grunt and instinctively loosened his hold. She took the offensive. Turning with lightning swiftness, she grabbed his arm, stepping into a judo move she’d been taught and flipped him to the floor.
But she’d had to put her bag and camera on a table to make the throw and the smaller man was scrambling eagerly to get the Leica. She kicked out at his face as he reached for the camera, and he fell backward with a surprised bellow of pain.

Kelly snatched up her bag and camera and took off at a dead run across the dance floor, dodging recklessly among the startled couples. She had almost reached the ring of tables encircling the dance floor when she felt herself literally scooped off her feet from behind and held kicking and struggling at least two feet from the floor. It must be the baldheaded one, Kelly thought frantically, the smaller man wasn’t big enough to hold her dangling like a rag doll. Darn it, she couldn’t get any leverage to do any real damage, and in another minute the other one would be here to grab the camera while she was being held helpless. She drew back her elbow to try a blow to her captor’s solar plexus, when she heard him give a low grunt that was more like a sigh. His arms relaxed with startling suddenness,
releasing her. Unprepared for the move, she stumbled but regained her balance in an instant.

“Come on,” Nick said sharply, his hand grasping her elbow. “Let’s get the hell out of here before you get us both murdered.” He was almost running, and after one hurried glance at his grim expression, she decided to ask questions later and keep pace with him.

She couldn’t resist one fleeting look behind her, however, and she almost stopped in her tracks when she saw her baldheaded captor lying unconscious on the dance floor, surrounded by a crowd of shocked and chattering people. She caught a brief glimpse of the hawk-nosed object of her photo moving rapidly toward them across the room, and then they were out of the club and running toward Nick’s rented black Ferrari. By the time the bearded man erupted explosively from the entrance of the disco club, followed closely by his short, burly bodyguard, Nick and Kelly were already pulling out of the parking lot.