mentioned in the book, who fought in the corridas of Spain around the turn of
the century."
"Until you read
Blasco-Ibanez, you have no idea how dangerous bullfighting really is," Eb
agreed. "He must have seen some of the corridas."
"A number of
Spanish authors did. Lorca, for example, wrote a famous poem about the death of
his friend Sanchez Mejias in the bullring."
He brushed back a
strand of gold-streaked brown hair and smiled. "I've missed conversations
like this, although a good many of the men I train are well-educated. In
fact, Micah
Steele, who does consulting work for me, was a resident doctor at one of the bigger
Eastern hospitals when he joined my unit."
"Why did he give
up a profession that he must have studied very hard for?"
DIANA PALMER 97
"Nobody knows,
and he won't talk. Mostly what we know about him we found out from his father, who used t o be a bank president until his heart attack.
Micah's step sister, Callie, looks
after old man Steele these days. He and
Micah haven't spoken for years, not since he and Cal lie's mother
divorced."
"Do you know why they did?"
He shrugged.
"Local gossip had it that Micah's father caught Micah and his stepmother in a
compromising po sition and threw them both out of the house."
"Poor man."
"Poor Callie.
She worshiped the ground Micah walked on, but he won't even speak to her these
days."
"That name sounds familiar," she commented.
"It should.
Callie's a paralegal. She works for Barnes and Kemp, the trial lawyers here in
town."
"It's so nice to
have a lazy day like this," she mur mured, watching Stevie browse among the party
decora tions
on a shelf. "It makes me forget the danger."
"I'm surprised
that Lopez hasn't made any more moves lately," he said. "And a little
disturbed. It isn't like him to back off."
"Maybe he was
afraid those two men who attacked me would be arrested and they'd tell on
him," she said.
He laughed
mirthlessly. "Dream on. Lopez would have them disposed of before they had time
to rat on him." He pursed
his lips. "That could be what happened to them. You don't make a mistake when you belong to that par ticular
cartel. No second chances. Ever."
She shivered. "We do keep all the doors locked,"
she said, "And we're very careful about
what we say. Well, Jessica is,"
she amended sheepishly. "Until you taught me about surveillance equipment,
I didn't know that a whisper could be
heard half a mile away."
98 MERCENARY'S WOMAN
"Never forget
it," he told her. "Never drop your guard, either. I'll always
have someone close enough to run in terference if you get into trouble, but you
have to do your part to keep the house secure."
"And let you
know when and where I'm going," she agreed. "I won't forget again."
He reached across
the table and folded his fingers into hers, liking the way they clung. His
thumb smoothed over the soft, moist palm while he searched her eyes.
"You haven't had
an easy time of it, have you?" he asked conversationally. "In some ways, your whole life has been in turmoil since you were
seventeen."
"In transition,
at least," she corrected, smiling gently. "If there's one thing I've learned, it's that
everything changes."
"I suppose so." His fingers
tightened on hers and the look in his eyes
was suddenly dark and mysterious and a little threatening. "I've
learned a few things myself," he said
quietly.
"Such as?" she whispered daringly.
He glanced down at their entwined fingers.
"Such as never taking things for
granted."
She frowned, puzzled.
He laughed and let
go of her fingers. "I told you that I was engaged once, didn't I?" he asked.
She nodded.
"I never told
her what I did for a living. She never questioned where my money came from. In fact,
when I tried
to tell her, she stopped me, saying it wouldn't matter, that she loved me and
she'd go wherever my job took me." He leaned back in
the century."
"Until you read
Blasco-Ibanez, you have no idea how dangerous bullfighting really is," Eb
agreed. "He must have seen some of the corridas."
"A number of
Spanish authors did. Lorca, for example, wrote a famous poem about the death of
his friend Sanchez Mejias in the bullring."
He brushed back a
strand of gold-streaked brown hair and smiled. "I've missed conversations
like this, although a good many of the men I train are well-educated. In
fact, Micah
Steele, who does consulting work for me, was a resident doctor at one of the bigger
Eastern hospitals when he joined my unit."
"Why did he give
up a profession that he must have studied very hard for?"
DIANA PALMER 97
"Nobody knows,
and he won't talk. Mostly what we know about him we found out from his father, who used t o be a bank president until his heart attack.
Micah's step sister, Callie, looks
after old man Steele these days. He and
Micah haven't spoken for years, not since he and Cal lie's mother
divorced."
"Do you know why they did?"
He shrugged.
"Local gossip had it that Micah's father caught Micah and his stepmother in a
compromising po sition and threw them both out of the house."
"Poor man."
"Poor Callie.
She worshiped the ground Micah walked on, but he won't even speak to her these
days."
"That name sounds familiar," she commented.
"It should.
Callie's a paralegal. She works for Barnes and Kemp, the trial lawyers here in
town."
"It's so nice to
have a lazy day like this," she mur mured, watching Stevie browse among the party
decora tions
on a shelf. "It makes me forget the danger."
"I'm surprised
that Lopez hasn't made any more moves lately," he said. "And a little
disturbed. It isn't like him to back off."
"Maybe he was
afraid those two men who attacked me would be arrested and they'd tell on
him," she said.
He laughed
mirthlessly. "Dream on. Lopez would have them disposed of before they had time
to rat on him." He pursed
his lips. "That could be what happened to them. You don't make a mistake when you belong to that par ticular
cartel. No second chances. Ever."
She shivered. "We do keep all the doors locked,"
she said, "And we're very careful about
what we say. Well, Jessica is,"
she amended sheepishly. "Until you taught me about surveillance equipment,
I didn't know that a whisper could be
heard half a mile away."
98 MERCENARY'S WOMAN
"Never forget
it," he told her. "Never drop your guard, either. I'll always
have someone close enough to run in terference if you get into trouble, but you
have to do your part to keep the house secure."
"And let you
know when and where I'm going," she agreed. "I won't forget again."
He reached across
the table and folded his fingers into hers, liking the way they clung. His
thumb smoothed over the soft, moist palm while he searched her eyes.
"You haven't had
an easy time of it, have you?" he asked conversationally. "In some ways, your whole life has been in turmoil since you were
seventeen."
"In transition,
at least," she corrected, smiling gently. "If there's one thing I've learned, it's that
everything changes."
"I suppose so." His fingers
tightened on hers and the look in his eyes
was suddenly dark and mysterious and a little threatening. "I've
learned a few things myself," he said
quietly.
"Such as?" she whispered daringly.
He glanced down at their entwined fingers.
"Such as never taking things for
granted."
She frowned, puzzled.
He laughed and let
go of her fingers. "I told you that I was engaged once, didn't I?" he asked.
She nodded.
"I never told
her what I did for a living. She never questioned where my money came from. In fact,
when I tried
to tell her, she stopped me, saying it wouldn't matter, that she loved me and
she'd go wherever my job took me." He leaned back in
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