In Enemy Hands (11 page)

Dante nodded, thinking about the vulnerable little girl he’d glimpsed beneath her cocky exterior last night.

Ronnie continued, “She’s been through a lot of crap in her life. I wasn’t lying about the little sister thing. All of us guys are real protective of her.” He gave Dante a faint smile. “I’d hate to have to beat you up.”

“Understood,” Dante said with a nod. Then he said, “So, tell me … how did you end up rooming with Waynie?”

Ronnie scowled. “I drew the freakin’ short straw, that’s how. You don’t think it was because I had a choice, do you?”

Ronnie started on another tirade and soon Dante was laughing hard as Nadia had on the way down.

“Hey, Ronnie,” Flo said. “Quit your yapping and get that jukebox for me, would you? It’s almost time for Nadia.”

“With pleasure.” Ronnie drained the rest of his drink and set the glass on the counter. “I hate this song.”

He walked over to the jukebox and yanked the plug.

Nadia walked onto the stage. “Hey, guys!” Nadia yelled into the microphone.

Catcalls and whistles greeted her while the band assembled behind her. Dante recognized the two boy toys from the restaurant and said a fervent prayer that Nadia was not a pop singer.

She gave a little bow and said, “I’m feeling magnanimous tonight, so you guys know what that means …”

“I have no idea what that means!” Waynie shouted from across the room.

“Moron,” Ronnie muttered.

Nadia laughed. “Okay, Waynie. I’m feeling
generous
tonight, so here it is. This is request night. I’ll sing whatever you want me to, but if you make me sing bubblegum crap, no more request nights. Okay?”

Someone shouted out a request and the band began to play. Dante had to admit, they were pretty good. Then Nadia began to sing.

She was better than good.

Her smoky voice filled the room and the whole place got quiet. Nadia was a presence on the stage. In other bars, people did their own things and hardly paid attention to the band, but Nadia had them under her spell.

She impressed him with the range of songs she was able to cover. She sang mostly rock, contemporary, and classic, then a drunk cowboy threw his hat on the stage and shouted out a request. Without missing a beat, Nadia donned the hat and cued the band.

Soon, she was singing and prancing around the stage, doing some of the most inspired wiggling and jiggling Dante had ever seen. He couldn’t help but laugh.

The girl was a firecracker, and she was having a ball. The crowd roared their approval.

“Whew, thank you!” Nadia paused between songs to get a drink of water. “This song here is for my friend, Slick.”

The band broke into a frenzied version of the old Joan Jett and the Blackhearts song,
I Love Rock and Roll
. Nadia blew him a kiss when she sang about meeting a guy by the record machine.

Dante laughed, remembering their first meeting. Remembering the first time Nadia had knocked him off his feet. Hadn’t part of him known even then that he was going to fall in love with her?

The thought sobered him.

He wasn’t falling in love with Nadia. He couldn’t. He was here to do a job, and he’d best get that through his thick head.

No way he could be falling for her. He’d only known her for twenty-four hours and Dante had never been much of a believer in love at first sight. But no woman he’d ever known made him feel like Nadia did.

Not even the one he’d married.

Why was he thinking of all this?

Dante Giovanni wasn’t steady relationship material. He’d been told that more than once, and knew it to be true. So, why was he dreaming about happily-ever-after with Nadia?

He needed to get her to her father soon, before both of them got hurt. Because no matter what his head told him, his heart wasn’t listen—ng when he was around her.

Maybe tonight.

Dante could guess how Nadia would react if she knew about Nick’s stipulation. She’d go nuts. He could talk her into leaving with him. She could be safe and sound with her real father in a matter of hours.

You ruthless jerk
, he thought.

His stomach rolled when he realized he was contemplating using her attraction to him to his advantage. But what other choice did he have?

Ronnie’s shout tore him from his thoughts. Dante glanced up to see the drunken cowboy charge the stage.

L
et go … of me,” Nadia gasped when the cowboy grabbed her waist and pulled her to him. The stench of beer and body odor made her eyes water.

“Come on, baby, just one little kiss,” he slurred. “That’s all I need.”

Nadia planted her hand under his chin and forced his face away from hers. She groaned when she heard Ronnie’s shout. Waynie’s heavy footsteps thundered across the stage.

She’d have to move quickly to keep them from killing the poor slob.

Glancing down, she stomped on his instep with the heel of her boot. The cowboy howled and abruptly released her. Before he could do anything stupid, Nadia hooked her foot behind his ankle and sent him tumbling to the floor. He made no attempt to get up.

“You ought to be ashamed of yourself,” she said, standing over him. “What would your mama think if she saw you acting like such an ass? Now, get over there and get yourself some coffee.”

Ronnie chuckled. “Gee, Nadia. You already beat him up. You’re going to nag him to death too?”

He moved around her to haul the drunk to his feet.

“You okay?” Dante asked from behind her.

He placed a protective hand on her waist and Nadia started at his touch. She covered it with a smile.

“I’m fine. Told you, I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.” Nadia winked at him and leaned down to pick up the microphone. She winced at the microphone backfeed and announced, “Hey, guys. We’re going to take a short break.”

Almost immediately, the jukebox roared back to life.

Hopping off the stage, she headed toward the bar with Dante trailing behind. He gave her a surprised look when she ordered a soft drink—

“What, you expected me to be a sot or something?” she asked. “I don’t drink much.” She leaned forward and whispered, “The stuff makes me
crazy.”

Dante laughed. “I can’t imagine.”

Nadia took a sip of her soda and hopped back off the stool. Dante chuckled.

“What?” she demanded.

Dante scratched his chin and grinned. “Ah, nothing, princess. I was only wondering if you were even capable of sitting still for five minutes.”

“Nope. Come on, let’s dance. Ronnie steps on my feet, and Waynie … well, look.” She pointed to the dance floor. Waynie was swaying by himself to the song blaring from the jukebox, hilariously out of time with the music. He caught their stares and raised his glass in a toast.

Nadia lifted an eyebrow and said, “See what I mean?”

“Yeah, I do.” Dante’s brown eyes twinkled, and she didn’t need alcohol to make her feel tipsy. “But will you beat me up if I try to kiss you?”

“Hmmm.” She leaned in close, like she was going to kiss him, then pulled away. “I guess it depends on how nice you ask.”

“No fair,” he said, and let her lead him to the dance floor.

His big body dwarfed hers, and Nadia discovered she liked the feeling of him surrounding her.

Liked it a lot.

Being this close to Dante—touching him—left her shaky, a little unsure of herself. It was sensory overload. The soft skin that covered the hard slabs of muscle, the deep timbre of his voice, the wonderful scent of him. It was an intoxicating package.

Since he was so much taller, Nadia opted to wrap her arms around his waist and rest her face against his broad chest. One of Dante’s hands wound in her hair and the other caressed the bare skin on her upper back.

“It’s hard, dancing with the munchkin queen, huh, Dante?” Ronnie reached around them to grab a handful of peanuts from the bowl on the counter.

“Go away, Ronnie,” Nadia murmured, too content to even muster up a good insult.

“Just so you guys know, the music’s stopped,” he continued.

“Go away, Ronnie,” Dante said, smiling down at her.

“Fine, I can tell when I’m not wanted.” Ronnie grabbed the bowl and wandered off into the crowd.

Someone fed more money into the jukebox, and they slow danced to another song. Nadia stared up at Dante. He was too quiet, too tense.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

He looked away. “Nothing.”

“I can tell that something’s wrong.”

He frowned and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Okay. Yeah, something’s wrong. Can we go somewhere to talk?”

Nadia’s heart fluttered in her chest. Was he already tired of her? Was he going to tell her he’d made a mistake by staying?

“Let’s go outside,” she said.

Ronnie lounged by the door, and she held up a finger, indicating for him to give them a moment. He nodded.

A slight breeze was blowing, stirring the hot August night, and Nadia slipped her hand inside Dante’s. It gave her little reassurance when he squeezed her fingers.

When they walked by Waynie’s pickup, Dante surprised her by lifting her up and setting her on the hood.

He stood between her open knees and rested his palms on the metal on either side of her. Nadia held her breath when he leaned forward.

He kissed her hard, with a fervor that both shocked and thrilled her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, tugging him closer. When they finally broke apart, they were both breathing hard.

Dante pressed his forehead to hers, and she raked her fingernails lightly over his scalp. He shuddered, making them both laugh.

His fingers gently massaged the back of her neck as he asked, “What are you, some kind of witch?”

Nadia gave a startled laugh. “Well, I guess I’ve been called worse …”

“I barely know you, but I can’t stop thinking about you. I don’t usually let myself get so … distracted. Must have something to do with those green eyes of yours.”

Nadia couldn’t stop the idiotic grin that spread across her face at his words. “Yeah, well, just so you know … making out in bar parking lots with big, bald strangers isn’t exactly a habit of mine, either.”

“I’m not all that strange.”

“Ah, well. That makes me feel better.” She pulled back to look in his eyes. “I need to talk to you too. I want to ask you …” Nadia hesitated.

Her heart threatened to pound out of her chest, but she smiled again and stroked his jaw. “I need to know if I can trust you. If you woke up in my bed tomorrow, would you break my heart?”

Dante abruptly pulled away from her.

“I can’t do this,” he muttered, and pulled a hand down his face as he paced underneath the pink glow of the neon sign.

Nadia’s mouth went dry. It took some effort to force the words out. “You can’t do what?”

A burst of gunfire shattered the night around them.

Nadia screamed and Dante threw himself at her. He jerked her off the hood into the gravel beside him.

“Stay down!” he shouted, and grabbed a gun from his calf holster.

Gunfire peppered around the truck when the bodyguards stationed in the parking lot returned fire.

Nadia watched in horror when the bar doors burst open. Ronnie and Waynie led the charge. A big red flower appeared on Waynie’s shirt.

Then he went down.

“Waynie!” she screamed.

She started crawling to him. Sharp gravel bit into her palms, nearly slicing them when Dante seized her ankle and yanked her backward.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” he demanded.

“Let go of me. I’ve got to help Waynie.”

“Waynie would want you to be safe. We’ve got to get out of here.” He yanked open the door to Waynie’s pickup and pushed her inside. “Keep your head down.”

Dante reached around her, fumbling for the switch. He cursed and Nadia realized the keys were missing.

“Help them,” she said. “I can do this.”

Without waiting for his reply, Nadia jerked a handful of wires from underneath the dash. Dante slid out of the cab and she heard the report from his weapon when he moved around the side of the truck.

She worked fast. Red, purple, green. The wires sparked and the engine roared to life. She scooted behind the wheel when she heard Dante fumble with the passenger side door. Dante threw himself in the seat and Nadia stomped the accelerator, sending up a spray of gravel when they rocketed past the neon sign.

“How did you do that?” Dante asked. He ejected an empty clip onto the floorboard and reloaded.

“You’d be surprised at the things I can do,” Nadia said absently, checking the rearview mirror.

A pair of headlights swung out of Charlie’s parking lot, but she had the jump on them. She tromped on the gas. The needle on the speedometer hit 90, and the little truck began to shimmy.

“I bet. But I know hotwiring cars. It’s not like the movies, not that quick of a process. How did you know which wires?”

“You’re assuming I haven’t hotwired this truck before,” she said. “Waynie …” Sudden tears stung her eyes, and she couldn’t finish her sentence.

Dante’s voice was soft, concerned. “I’ve got my phone. Do you have Ronnie’s cell number?”

Nadia nodded and blinked back tears. Now was no time to cry.

She rattled the number off to Dante. Her mind was racing. She had to shake their pursuers. Nadia almost missed the turnoff before she realized where she wanted to go.

Wheeler Town. That would be perfect. She twisted the wheel and shot down the narrow back road.

“Ronnie? Hey!”

Dante grunted when she threw him against the dash. He dropped the phone and pawed around the floorboard for it. “Yeah, I’m still here, and we’re both okay. It’s only Nadia’s driving.” He placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Waynie said you’d better not wreck his truck.”

“Oh!” Nadia’s breath left her in a rush. She pressed a hand to her mouth. “Waynie’s alive?”

“Yeah, but we won’t be if you don’t put both hands back on the wheel. Ronnie wants to know where we’re going.”

“Hold the phone up here so I can talk to him.”

Dante obediently held the phone to her head.

“Thanks,” she murmured. “Ronnie, are you there?”