Her Kind of Hero by Diana Palmer

civilized world?” she wanted to know.
    â€œBecause governments still can’t fight that kind of wealth,” he said bluntly. “Money and power make criminals too formidable. But we’ve got the Rico statutes which help us take away some of that illegal money,” he added. “and we’ve got dedicated people enforcing the law. We win more than we lose these days.”
    â€œYou sound like a government agent,” she teased.
    He chuckled. “I do, don’t I? I spent several years being one. It sticks.” He moved forward, taking his hands out of his pockets to wrap them gently around her upper arms. “I give you my word that I won’t let Lopez get you. In case you were worrying about that.”
    She grimaced. “Does it show?”
    â€œI don’t know. Maybe I can read your mind these days,” he added, trying to make light of it.
    â€œYou’re sure? About Dad being safe, I mean?”
    â€œI’m sure about Dad,” he returned at once. “Gator may look dumb, but he’s got a mind like a steel trap, and he’s quick on the draw. Nobody’s going to get past him—certainly nobody’s going to get past him and Maddie at the same time.”
    â€œYou like her a lot, I guess?”
    He chuckled. “Yes, I do. She’s hell on two legs, and one of the best scroungers I’ve ever had.”
    â€œWhat does Bojo do?”
    He gave her a wary appraisal, and it seemed as if he didn’t like the question. “Bojo is a small arms expert,” he replied. “He also has relatives in most of the Muslim nations, so he’s a great source of information, as well. Peter, you met him on the plane, is new with the group. He’s a linguist and he’s able to pass for an Arab or an Israeli. He’s usually undercover in any foreign operation we’re hired to undertake. You haven’t met Rodrigo yet—he was the pilot of the DC-3 we flew back to Miami. He does undercover work, as well. Don, the blond copilot, is a small arms expert. We have another operative, Cord Romero, who does demolition work for us, but he had an accident and he’s out of commission for a while.”
    â€œWhat you and your men do—it’s dangerous work.”
    â€œLiving is dangerous work,” he said flatly. “I like the job. I don’t have any plans to give it up.”
    Her eyebrows arched and her pale blue eyes twinkled. “My goodness, did I propose marriage just now and get instant amnesia afterward? Excuse me! ”
    He gaped at her. “Propose marriage…?”
    She held up both hands. “Now, don’t get ruffled. I understand how men feel about these things. I haven’t asked you out, or sent you flowers, or even bought you a nice pair of earrings. Naturally you’re miffed because I put the cart before the horse and asked you to give up an exciting job you love for marriage to a boring paralegal.”
    He blinked. “Callie?” he murmured, obviously fearing for her sanity.
    â€œWe’ll just forget the proposal,” she offered generously.
    â€œYou didn’t propose!” he gritted.
    â€œSee? You’ve already forgotten. Isn’t that just like a man?” shemuttered, as she went back to the sofa and sat down. “Now you’ll pout for an hour because I rejected you.”
    He burst out laughing when he realized what she was doing. It took the tension away from their earlier discussion and brought them back to normal. He dropped down into an armchair across from her and folded his arms over his chest.
    â€œJust when I think I’ve got you figured out, you throw me another curve,” he said appreciatively.
    â€œBelieve me, if I didn’t have a sense of humor, I’d already have smeared Mr. Kemp with honey and locked him in a closet with a grizzly bear.”
    â€œOuch!”
    â€œI thought you lived in Nassau?” She changed the