Warrior Without Rules - Nancy Gideon

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earlobe, twisting it the way he did when he needed a reminder of why he lived on a dangerous razor’s edge for weeks, sometimes months, coming back to the only place he could vaguely call home to stay long enough to wash the grime and gore down the drain. Where he’d pretend for whatever hours that he could snatch away that he really was the urbane sophisticate his neighbors believed him to be. They’d never believe the truth. It was an illusion he protected zealously, a part of his heritage he couldn’t surrender.

      He’d agreed to Jack’s request. The why was a complex issue. The easy answer, the one that would ride comfortably upon his conscience, was because Jack had asked him. There was precious little he wouldn’t do in the name of their rare friendship. But it wasn’t Jack. And it wasn’t whatever Victor Castillo might think he was owed. It was for the girl with the shell-shocked eyes and victimized body who now wore the mask of normalcy as well as he did.

      And for her, he would put aside his own agenda, if only for a little while, if only to give ease to that trauma he’d witnessed, but she’d had to survive.

      It was hard to concentrate with him in the room.

      Toni’s glance touched upon his relaxed features. She knew he wasn’t sleeping. Behind the closed eyelids spun a busy mind, probably calculating the security avenues he’d have to take to put a lock down on the nightmare of tomorrow’s party. All business, all the time. That was Zach Russell. Even then.

      The next number she needed to call was on the card before her, but she wasn’t looking at it. She was looking back.

      She remembered the first time she’d seen him in the foyer below. He’d been young, mid-twenties, but already with such a foundation of control and potential. Polite, reserved yet capable of charming with a flash of that rare smile. He’d been so different from the other stoic automatons, she couldn’t help being drawn to him. They were there to escort father and daughter to a business meeting in London. She didn’t know what her father’s business there entailed. She never asked. She’d grown up surrounded by his secrets and his security in one form or another so she didn’t question the reasons why.

      Glad for the distraction on what she considered a dreary trip, she insisted that the young and fiercely dedicated agent be assigned to her. She’d flirted with Russell mercilessly, determinedly, and though he retained a careful distance, he’d never made her feel foolish in her infatuation. He hadn’t encouraged her, but she hadn’t needed any. Despite what her father would later claim, he’d done nothing inappropriate. He just done…nothing. He hadn’t provoked her dangerous response to his horribly proper rebuff. It wasn’t his fault that he’d broken her heart, damn him and that stiff British civility.

      “I’m done here.”

      Her announcement brought his eyes open and the coiled readiness back into his partially recumbent form. He was on his feet by the time she came around the desk and they met at the foot of the lounger. Both pulled up short, startled by their sudden close proximity. And by the amazingly sharp recall of another moment so like this one, where awareness of one another took them by surprise and a blind-siding desire came close to overwhelming reason.

      Neither moved as the unintentional happenstance built into a storm-charged intensity. Unguarded stares locked. As Toni gazed up into Zach’s eyes, the mercurial green-gold flared with passionate possibilities. Possibilities she’s once wanted to explore more than anything she could dream of. And perhaps, still wanted despite all that had happened between that first blush of innocent desire and now. All she had to do was reach out for the feel of his rock hard chest. All she had to do was stretch up for a sample of his unyielding lips. And in this brief instant with defenses down, he might have allowed it. He might have enjoyed it.

      But he’d had his chance.

      “Excuse me.”

      The intrusion of her rough-edged words brought sensibility snapping back into his cloudy stare. He took a quick step back and the moment was gone. Toni moved past him as if the encounter was already forgotten.

      But all through dinner, at a table with a now distant Zach, her father and Veta and assorted business associates, her distracted thoughts quivered with tease of one what if.

      What if she had kissed him ten years ago? How different, then, might her life have been.

      Chapter 4

      Her birthday. Her ascension to the top of Aletta. The house swarmed with the rich and powerful come to pay homage to both events. It was her night to shine, but Toni would have felt more comfortable had that light been under a basket. Because she was very aware that someone in the glittery crowd might have an agenda other than celebration, one that involved a blood-stained blouse and a ransom unpaid.

      Her mother had trained her practically since birth to work a room, to make the most of her looks, her smile, her smarts. She did so on a gracious autopilot while her gaze scanned the shadowed corners and her system jumped at every unexpected sound. She searched for Zach, finding instead a host of unfamiliar faces he’d brought in for the occasion to police the room. The sight of those innocuous strangers brought no sense of comfort, though she was sure they were very good at their jobs. They had nothing at stake, no reason to go an extra mile, to make that extraordinary promise to secure her peace of mind. Only Zach Russell had done that.

      Where was he?

      She snagged a flute of champagne from a passing tray just to have something to do with her hands. She wouldn’t drink. She needed her senses sharp.

      Where the hell was he?

      Every room of the house was designed for ease of entertainment and traffic flow. Each was crowded with guests intent upon sampling all they could from the elegant appetizers, abundant spirits and undercurrent of classical music served up to them with an unobtrusive style. She moved through the ground floor chatting with friends and business associates while her gaze never stopped its restless journeys and her nerves pulled ever tighter.

      Even the stairs were lined with company who lifted their glasses in salute as she climbed past them. Her father was in the huge upstairs room that served as theater, boardroom and, as it did tonight, ballroom. The oriental rugs had been rolled back to expose the gleaming floor. An alcove at the far end hosted a five piece band playing an infectious ragtime. Through the bank of glass to the left was the dynamic view of the lake and to the right an equally impressive sea of imported luxury cars overflowing the drive and extra lot. And her father stood at the massive fireplace, leaning casually against the Danish tiles as he talked business. Even on this night, he was hard at work.

      “Antonia, you know Servando Fuentes.”

      She took the cold, limp fingers offered by Angel Premiero’s right-hand man. Premiero, who’d grown up with Victor Castillo, had partnered with her father in many of his past ventures. Now he was spearheading the company move to Mexico.

      “Señor Fuentes, always a pleasure.” She waited just long enough to be polite before withdrawing her hand, fighting the urge to scrub her palm to restore its warmth.

      “Señor Premiero most anxiously awaits your visit and the opportunity to link your families in business.”

      She smiled thinly. As long as that was all Premiero thought to link. “I look forward to our meeting.”

      “Happy birthday. This is from Señor Premiero. A small token.”

      Under the unbridled avarice of her father’s stare, she took the heavy velvet box and opened it with a hint more apprehension than anticipation. Gifts from Premiero didn’t come unencumbered by strings.

      It was a weighty necklace of silver fashioned into entwined calla lilies. The bell of each flower was filled with a piece of deep blue lapis.

      Fuentes waited with a smug smile for her reaction. When it was slow to come, he prompted, “Señor Premiero remembered those exquisite eyes you inherited from your mother, may she rest with the saints.”

      “Put it on, Antonia,” her father urged, but Toni was reluctant to wear Premiero’s controlling collar quite this

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