Loving The Lone Wolf. Ingrid Weaver
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turned to look at him and lifted one eyebrow. Without moving another muscle, he let the silence build from uncomfortable to threatening—a trick that he’d learned in his youth. He was only one-eighth Lakota Sioux, but he knew full well how to use his inscrutable Indian-brave look. “Sorry,” he said finally. “I missed that. What did you say?”
The man’s gaze wavered. “I didn’t say nothin’.”
Nathan decided he’d made his point. Without another word, he continued down the corridor.
The room Kelly led him to was long and narrow, with stark white walls and a clean, white tile floor. A rack of colorful dresses, each encased in a clear plastic dry-cleaner’s bag, was set along one wall. Across from it, a table cluttered with various bottles and tubes sat beneath a mirror ringed with lights. Even without those clues, Nathan would have known this was Kelly’s dressing room, because as soon as he followed her over the threshold, he was enveloped by her scent.
She closed the door and brushed past him. She wore her hair swept up in a rhinestone-studded clasp tonight, leaving nothing to detract from the graceful line of her bare back. Nathan had to shove his hands into the pockets of his pants so he wouldn’t reach out for her.
What was it about this woman? His senses were threatening to short-circuit his brain.
“I apologize for the less than friendly reception you got back there,” she said. “One of the guards at the estate had an…accident, so Stephan had to make some personnel changes. No one had a chance to tell those two who you are.”
“Then I take it he wants to go forward with our deal?”
“Yes, he certainly does.” She picked up the gold dress she had worn the night before from the back of a chair and gestured for him to sit. “Stephan wants to bring the shipment into O’Hare next week. Friday, to be exact. Can you have the transportation arranged and the necessary paperwork prepared by then?”
Nathan crossed one ankle over the other and leaned his shoulders against the door. Finally! “No problem. I’ll have my end ready.”
“And to make sure you do, Stephan has asked me to be your liaison.”
“My liaison? What does that entail?”
“I’ll be overseeing your end.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s the way Stephan wants it.”
“Why?” he repeated.
“To ensure our mutual interests.”
“In other words, your boyfriend expects you to stay chummy so you can spy on me, right?”
She draped the dress over her arm and brushed at the folds. “If I say yes, is that going to help our negotiations or hurt them?”
He smiled inwardly at her comeback. It was exactly what he had asked her the night before. He enjoyed the glimpses of Kelly’s intelligence even more than the glimpses of her body.
Still, having her around was a complication he didn’t need. He couldn’t afford to have anyone scrutinizing his actions, especially a woman he hadn’t yet figured out. Even under the best of circumstances, it wouldn’t be easy to set up the sting that would deliver the drugs and Volski’s gang to the feds. The clock was ticking on his debt.
Damn Tony and his bargain.
“And just how are you supposed to keep an eye on me, Kelly?” he asked. “I don’t have a Mrs. Rand who would object, but from what I’ve heard about your boyfriend, he wouldn’t look too kindly on either of us if you moved in with me. I’d prefer to keep all the body parts I was born with.”
Her fingers suddenly clenched, crumpling the fabric of the dress she held into a tight ball. “I’m not responsible for what Stephan does.”
Nathan straightened up from the door, surprised by the vehemence of her response.
“And from the way I saw you handle Stephan’s watchdogs just now,” she continued, “I believe you can take care of yourself, whatever happens.”
It almost sounded as if she were trying to warn him. “What does that mean?”
She flexed her fingers to release her hold on the dress and tossed it back on the chair where it had been. “Where did you learn to fight like that, Nathan?” As if it was an afterthought, she moved her lips into a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You moved so fast, I could hardly see it. I hope you’re not that fast with everything. There are some things that are best done…slowly.”
He regarded her curiously. She had gone into her sex-kitten mode in a bid to change the topic, but this time it wasn’t working. He was far more interested in what he’d seen before she’d put on that smile. He walked past the chair to stand in front of her. “I learned how to use the particular move you saw when I was eight.”
“You must have been very precocious.”
“No, just resourceful. My stepfather liked little boys. I didn’t let him like me.”
The smile disappeared like the illusion it had been. Her gaze clouded with horror. “My God,” she murmured. “Your stepfather?”
“Well, he wasn’t legally my stepfather. He never married my mother.”
She touched his arm. “Oh, Nathan. I’m sorry.”
“Hey, it’s like you said. I learned to take care of myself.”
Her hand shook against his sleeve. “Didn’t your mother…” She swallowed. “She must have tried to leave, didn’t she? For your sake?”
“No, she never left. I did.” He covered her hand with his. “Why did you, Kelly?”
“What?”
“Why did you leave home? What made you trade the church choir in Maple Ridge for Volski’s nightclub in Chicago?”
She stared at him, her lips parted in shock, then she pulled her hand away from his so fast she stumbled backward. She came up against the table beneath the mirror, knocking over several small bottles.
Nathan caught her by the shoulders to steady her, careful to keep his grip gentle. He’d wanted to take her off guard with the question—that’s why he’d led up to it by giving her a piece of his past—but he hadn’t anticipated this strong a reaction.
Could his gut be right? Was it possible that beneath the act she put on she was innocent?
He had to find out before she got swept up in the same net that would catch her boyfriend. He leaned down to bring his face level with hers. “Were you running from abuse the way I was, Kelly? Is that why you ended up with Volski?”
“No. My parents are wonderful. They—” She shook her head. A lock of hair slipped loose from the rhinestone clasp and uncoiled at the nape of her neck. “How did you know about me?”
“I have connections. I asked around.”
“My life is none of your business.”
“I disagree. If we’re going to work together, everything about you is my business.”
She was struggling to draw in her emotions, but she wasn’t succeeding. “You’ve got the wrong idea. Our relationship isn’t personal, Nathan. It doesn’t give you the right to ask questions like this. I realize it might have seemed as if I was leading you on last night, but—”
“No, Kelly, I knew what you were doing. It’s why you’re doing it that bothers me.” He felt her tremble under his palms. He stroked his thumbs along her shoulders. “What’s really going on? I could tell by your singing that something was troubling you tonight.”
She made an odd sound in her throat. “What could possibly be troubling me?”
“If it’s something to