Beverly Barton - Paladin's Woman

She would have preferred not to discuss that situation with Nick, even though it was obvious that he'd overheard every word of her conversation and had jumped to the correct conclusion. As foolish as the notion seemed, Addy couldn't help feeling like she'd been dumped. "I thought you didn't like Jim."

"I changed my mind about Hester. I wanted to dislike him, but I couldn't. He's all right, Addy, but he's not the man for you." Nick tossed the phone into a cushioned lounge chair.

Addy fiddled with the drawstring on her yellow walking shorts. "Let me get this straight. You've warned me off Brett Windsor because he's only interested in my money and you think Jim was the wrong man for me because all I wanted from that relationship was to be a mother to Tiffany."

"That about sums it up."

"I'm surprised you aren't telling me that you're the right man for me. Now would be the perfect time, wouldn't it?" Addy couldn't bring herself to face Nick. Somehow she knew he was smiling, that self-assured, macho smile.

"I am the right man for you, and we both know it."

"You're wrong, all wrong." She turned, forcing herself to look at him, determined to remain in control. "What you want is another conquest. You want—"

"I want you." Nick focused all his attention on Addy, his dark eyes reaching out, pulling her to him, mesmerizing her by their look of heated desire. "I don't want another woman, and I couldn't care less about Rusty's millions. All I want is you. Your body, your mind, your heart. Everything that makes you Addy."

When Nick reached out and took her hand, she jerked away from his touch as if he'd hurt her. "Don't do this to me. I can't handle it."

She ran from him, her bare feet racing over the warm flagstones. Nick didn't follow her immediately. Running his fingers through his thick black hair, he cursed himself for a fool. He couldn't seem to get it right with Addy. With other women he'd always been the smooth Romeo, who knew exactly what to say and do. With Addy it was different. She was different. The woman was driving him crazy. She wanted him to prove himself to her, and he had no earthly idea how to go about doing it.

He gave her five minutes alone—four minutes more than he wanted to give her. He found her in the den, staring out the window. She'd wrapped her arms around herself. Her shoulders drooped in defeat.

"Addy?"

Her body stiffened, but she didn't turn around or reply. He walked over to her. More than anything he wanted to pull her into his arms. He didn't dare. At this precise moment she'd fight him like a wildcat. Addy was a woman who needed persuasion, and he was damned and determined that he was going to be the man to persuade her.

"Come on and sit down," Nick said, his big hand hovering over her shoulder. It was all he could do to keep from touching her. "Why don't we just sit and talk for a while?"

"I don't want to talk to you." Addy kept her back to him. "I want you to leave me alone."

"Were you this stubborn as a little girl? If you were, Rusty must have had his hands full raising you."

Some of the tension drained from her body. It wasn't a visible thing, yet Nick sensed it. He lowered his right hand to her shoulder, making sure his touch was light and non-threatening.

Addy felt the warmth of his touch through her blouse. His hand was big and hard and strong, yet his grip on her shoulder was unbearably tender. Hating herself for enjoying the feel of his hand on her body, she refused to look at him. She didn't trust herself to remain in control if his eyes were still filled with desire.

"I'll never lie to you." Nick balanced his cane against the wall, then placed his left hand on her other shoulder, turning her around toward him. "I'm not looking for love and marriage and I'm not making you any forever-after promises."

Addy glanced down at the Sarouk rug beneath her bare feet. Her vision focused on the intricate gold, rust and blue pattern. "What—what can you give me, Nick, in return for my blind faith in you?"

He reached out, slipping his fist beneath Addy's chin. "I can give you passion and fulfillment. I can make you glad that you're a woman."

She was tempted, so very tempted. But men said whatever they thought necessary to get what they wanted. They sought out your weaknesses and used them against you. Men did that sort of thing. Gerald had.

He tilted her chin upward, forcing her to face him. Her eyes widened with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. Every word he said was true, but how could he make her believe him? "Addy?"

"I'm not going to sleep with you, so you might as well give up on me. I—I don't like sex, and I refuse to become one more in a long line of women who've shared your bed."

Releasing her chin, Nick stepped away from her, but didn't break eye contact. "You didn't like sex with Gerald. That doesn't mean you won't like sex with me."

"You are, without a doubt, the most egotistical man I've ever known. I'm no good at sex, and not even a Latin stud like you can change what's lacking in me. I'd disappoint you, Nick, so why don't you stop pursuing me and put us both out of our misery?"

"The only thing that's going to put us out of our misery is making love. I've just got to figure out a way to prove myself to you." Walking over to the stereo unit hidden inside the huge oak cupboard, Nick checked through Addy's tape and disk collection. "Don't you have anything except classical and semi-classical stuff?" He held up a tape. "Well, what have we here? It's not exactly Ricky Van Shelton, but it's not Beethoven either."

Addy couldn't stop looking at him, puzzled by the sudden change in his conversation from something extremely personal to something totally insignificant. What was he trying to do, throw her off guard?

Nick inserted the tape in the player, then leaning heavily on his cane, walked over and sat down on the sofa, tossing several pillows onto a nearby round table. Suddenly the sound of soft, romantic music permeated the room. The mixed voices of men and women sang "Close to You." Nick patted the sofa. "Come sit down and we'll talk."

Addy gave him a wary stare. "I don't trust you."

"Yes, you do. It's yourself you don't trust."

Addy moved toward Nick, slowly, cautiously, intent on proving him wrong. A show of bravado was called for here. She wasn't a silly young woman eager to believe a man's sweet lies. She was a woman who'd gone through her trial of fire, and she could handle anything, including the likes of Nick Romero.

Addy sat down, making sure she was as far from Nick as she could possibly get while sharing the same small sofa with him. "I don't want to talk about sex."

"Fine. Let's talk about Addy McConnell when she was a little girl." Nick scooted several inches toward her, then propped his big feet on a tiny needlepoint footstool. "What did you do for fun?"

"I—I took riding lessons, swimming lessons, tennis lessons, piano lessons—"

"Whoa, Red! I asked what you did for fun. Lessons aren't fun."

"I enjoyed my lessons, even if there were never any other children around … only my bodyguards." Addy shifted nervously when Nick draped his arm across the back of the sofa.

An entirely instrumental rendition of the "Gone with the Wind" theme filled the room. Addy sighed. Nick smiled.

"You really were a poor little rich girl, weren't you? An overprotected, pampered Southern belle in a golden cage. Didn't you ever spend any time with other kids?"

"No. Only when Janice was allowed to visit and when Daddy gave me my yearly birthday party." Addy remembered those precious visits with Janice, who had become her dearest friend—her only friend. And the parties had been like dreams fulfilled when the children of M.A.C. employees were brought out to the mansion to celebrate her birthday.