where
you'd be now?
Want me to paint you a picture?"
"Stop!" She put her face in her hands and shivered.
"I won't apologize," he told her
abruptly. "You did a damned stupid
thing and you got off lucky. Another time, I might not be quick enough."
She swallowed and
swallowed again. "The...conquering male," she choked, but she wasn't
teasing now, as she had been that afternoon when he'd told her to get the tire
fixed.
He drew her hands away from her face
and looked into her eyes steadily. "That's right," he said curtly, and he
wasn't kidding. "I've been dealing with vermin like that for almost half my
life. I told you there was danger in going out alone. Now you understand what I meant. Get that damned tire fixed, and buy a cell
phone."
Her head was spinning. "I can't
afford one," she said unsteadily.
"You can't afford not to. If you'd had one tonight, this
64 MERCENARY'S WOMAN
might never have happened," he said
forcefully. The heat in his eyes made her shiver. "A man is physically
stronger than
a woman. There are some exceptions, but for the most part, that's the
honest truth. Unless you've trained for years, like a policewoman or a federal
agent, you're not going to be the equal of a man who's drunk or on drugs or just bent on
assault. Law enforcement people know how to fight. You don't."
She shivered again.
Her hair was disheveled. She felt bruises on her arms where she'd been
restrained by those men. She was still stunned by the experience, but
already a little of the horror of what might have happened was getting to her.
He let her wrists go
abruptly. His lean face softened as he studied her. "But I'll say one thing
for you. You've got grit."
"Sure. I'm tough," she laughed
hollowly, brushing a strand of loose hair
out of her eyes. "What a pitiful waste of self-confidence!"
"Who the hell
taught you about canned self-defense?" he asked curiously, referring to
the can of spray on the ground.
"There was this
television self-defense training course for women," she said defensively.
"Anything you
spray, pepper or chemical, can rebound on you," he said quietly. "If the
wind's blowing the wrong way, you can blind yourself. If you don't hit the attacker squarely in
the eyes, you're no better off, either. As for the whistle, tonight there would have
been no one close enough to hear it." He sighed at her miserable ex pression and shook his
head. "Didn't I tell you to run?"
She lifted a high-heeled foot eloquently.
He leaned closer.
"If you're ever in a similar situation again, kick them off and try for the
two-minute mile!"
65
DIANA
PALMER
She managed a smile for him. "Okay."
He touched her wan,
drawn face gently. "I wouldn't have had that happen to you for the world," he said bit terly.
"You were right, I brought it on
myself. I won't make that mistake again,
and at least I got away with everything except my pride intact," she said gamely.
He unfastened her seat belt, aware of a
curtain being lifted and then released in
the living room. "I sent Dallas straight
here as soon as I got the message," he explained, "to watch out for Jess and Stevie. You should
have let me know about this night
meeting much sooner."
"I know."
She was fighting tears. The whole experience had been a shock that she knew she'd
never get over. "There was a third man, on the porch. He said that Lopez wouldn't like what
they were doing, calling attention to themselves."
He stared at her for
a long moment, seeing the fear and terror and revulsion that lingered in her
oval face, watching the way her hands clenched at the shirt he'd fastened
over her
torn bodice. He glanced at the window, where the cur tain was in place
again, and back to Sally's face.
"Come here,
sweetheart," he said tenderly, pulling her into his arms. He cuddled her close,
nuzzling his face into her throat, letting her cry.
Her clenched fist
rested against his black undershirt and she sobbed with impotent
you'd be now?
Want me to paint you a picture?"
"Stop!" She put her face in her hands and shivered.
"I won't apologize," he told her
abruptly. "You did a damned stupid
thing and you got off lucky. Another time, I might not be quick enough."
She swallowed and
swallowed again. "The...conquering male," she choked, but she wasn't
teasing now, as she had been that afternoon when he'd told her to get the tire
fixed.
He drew her hands away from her face
and looked into her eyes steadily. "That's right," he said curtly, and he
wasn't kidding. "I've been dealing with vermin like that for almost half my
life. I told you there was danger in going out alone. Now you understand what I meant. Get that damned tire fixed, and buy a cell
phone."
Her head was spinning. "I can't
afford one," she said unsteadily.
"You can't afford not to. If you'd had one tonight, this
64 MERCENARY'S WOMAN
might never have happened," he said
forcefully. The heat in his eyes made her shiver. "A man is physically
stronger than
a woman. There are some exceptions, but for the most part, that's the
honest truth. Unless you've trained for years, like a policewoman or a federal
agent, you're not going to be the equal of a man who's drunk or on drugs or just bent on
assault. Law enforcement people know how to fight. You don't."
She shivered again.
Her hair was disheveled. She felt bruises on her arms where she'd been
restrained by those men. She was still stunned by the experience, but
already a little of the horror of what might have happened was getting to her.
He let her wrists go
abruptly. His lean face softened as he studied her. "But I'll say one thing
for you. You've got grit."
"Sure. I'm tough," she laughed
hollowly, brushing a strand of loose hair
out of her eyes. "What a pitiful waste of self-confidence!"
"Who the hell
taught you about canned self-defense?" he asked curiously, referring to
the can of spray on the ground.
"There was this
television self-defense training course for women," she said defensively.
"Anything you
spray, pepper or chemical, can rebound on you," he said quietly. "If the
wind's blowing the wrong way, you can blind yourself. If you don't hit the attacker squarely in
the eyes, you're no better off, either. As for the whistle, tonight there would have
been no one close enough to hear it." He sighed at her miserable ex pression and shook his
head. "Didn't I tell you to run?"
She lifted a high-heeled foot eloquently.
He leaned closer.
"If you're ever in a similar situation again, kick them off and try for the
two-minute mile!"
65
DIANA
PALMER
She managed a smile for him. "Okay."
He touched her wan,
drawn face gently. "I wouldn't have had that happen to you for the world," he said bit terly.
"You were right, I brought it on
myself. I won't make that mistake again,
and at least I got away with everything except my pride intact," she said gamely.
He unfastened her seat belt, aware of a
curtain being lifted and then released in
the living room. "I sent Dallas straight
here as soon as I got the message," he explained, "to watch out for Jess and Stevie. You should
have let me know about this night
meeting much sooner."
"I know."
She was fighting tears. The whole experience had been a shock that she knew she'd
never get over. "There was a third man, on the porch. He said that Lopez wouldn't like what
they were doing, calling attention to themselves."
He stared at her for
a long moment, seeing the fear and terror and revulsion that lingered in her
oval face, watching the way her hands clenched at the shirt he'd fastened
over her
torn bodice. He glanced at the window, where the cur tain was in place
again, and back to Sally's face.
"Come here,
sweetheart," he said tenderly, pulling her into his arms. He cuddled her close,
nuzzling his face into her throat, letting her cry.
Her clenched fist
rested against his black undershirt and she sobbed with impotent
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