Downright Dangerous

by Beverly Barton

  "We've known from the very beginning that we're in a war," Elsa said, her shoulders straight, her chin held high. She glanced at Rafe, confidence glowing in her eyes. "A war against crime and criminals. A war to save a part of our community that many had thought lost to indecency, immorality and crime. But our efforts have proven that Honey Town is redeemable, that the vast majority of res­idents there want things changed for the better.

  "As I look out over this audience tonight, I see the faces of many Honey Town residents, all who support MGS and have joined us and worked with us. This war is far from over. In many ways, it has just begun."

  Amens sprang up throughout the crowd, mostly from older gentlemen. And a round of applause momentarily silenced Elsa, but she quickly continued.

  "I am personally facing a dangerous battle. As y'all know, my life has been threatened and I suspect that the motive is because someone—someone with a great deal to lose if we continue our efforts to clean up Honey Town— wants to stop me from leading the MGS to victory."

  Another round of riotous applause lifted the rafters. While keeping watch, Rafe listened to Elsa and saw her fervent dedication to the MGS cause. This was more than a career ploy for her, more than endearing herself to local society. It was personal, whether she realized it or not. Maybe the fact she'd grown up on the wrong side of town, an area similar to Honey Town back in her home state of Louisiana, had something to do with why this project was so important to her.

  As she continued speaking, he watched the audience, who appeared to hang on Elsa's every word. But especially Ellison Mays. The man seemed smitten. Either that or he was studying Elsa intensely for some other reason.

  After Elsa's speech and the endless hurrahs, Rafe moved toward her hurriedly before the crowd overtook her as many climbed up on the podium, their hands held out, eager to show Elsa their support.

  Just as Rafe reached Elsa, Ellison Mays slipped his arm around her shoulders and said, "Stay with me, my dear, and I'll see you safely to the back exit. Aunt Nella's car is waiting out back for us, and she does so want to speak to you."

  Rafe barged in, removed Mays's hand from Elsa's shoulder and said forcefully, "Seeing Ms. Leone safely out of here is my job."

  Ellison's expression was almost comical. Apparently, no one had ever questioned the man's right to do whatever the hell he pleased. After the initial shock wore off, Mays looked at Elsa and said, "I believe you should take your bodyguard to task and remind him that although he is ac­customed to barbaric behavior, while he's in the company of ladies and gentlemen, he should act accordingly."

  Rafe noted Elsa's lips twitch and knew she could barely refrain from smiling.

  "Rafe is just doing his job," she told Mays, whose face fell when she didn't chastize Rafe for his conduct. "You'll keep quiet and behave yourself from now on, won't you?" She glanced over her shoulder at Rafe, then laced her arm through Ellison Mays's arm. "Let Rafe clear a path for us to the back exit. I'd love to speak to Miss Nella before I go home."

  Smiling triumphantly Mays looked at Rafe but spoke to Elsa. "Aunt Nella doesn't take to just anyone, but she admires you greatly. You should be flattered that she's so interested in you and in the Maysville Good Samaritans."

  Rafe wanted to kick Mays's butt and whisk Elsa away. But he didn't. Instead he cleared a path for them and fol­lowed behind. Not exactly like a whipped lapdog. More like an angry pit bull waiting for his moment to attack.

  Nella Southwell sat inside her warm Rolls Royce as Mays led Elsa toward the older-model vehicle parked in the alleyway behind the utilities building. A few stragglers from the MGS meeting headed toward their cars, also parked in the back, but no one dared approach Elsa once they realized she'd been afforded a private audience with Queen Nella.

  Rafe stood back, watching and guarding, as the chauf­feur emerged from the Rolls and opened the back door. Nella Southwell peered out and up at Elsa.

  "My dear girl." The old woman offered her hand.

  Elsa almost curtsied. Rafe knew it as surely as he knew the sun rose in the east. Elsa shook Maysville's grand dame's hand reverently.

  "Thank you for coming tonight and offering your sup­port to the MGS," Elsa said.

  It's damn cold out here, Rafe thought. Freezing cold. Hurry it up, he wanted to shout. But people like Miss Nella seldom gave any thought to how their actions might in­convenience others.

  "My dear Elsa, it's you I support and any worthy cause you champion," Nella Southwell said in her deeply South­ern, authoritative voice. "I asked Ellison to bring you to me so that I might issue an invitation. I'd be pleased if you'd join us for Sunday dinner. Directly after church. Around one, at my home."

  Tell her no. Tell her you have other plans, Rafe thought, but kept silent. Why the hell was it so important to him that Elsa not be taken in by all this society crap? What difference did it make to him whether or not Elsa cared so damn much about money, prestige and social position? It wasn't as if he had a personal stake in her choices, as if her decisions actually affected his life.

  "Oh, thank you, Miss Southwell. I'll be delighted to join you and Ellison for Sunday dinner."

  Although he couldn't see the old woman's face clearly in the dimly lit alley, he figured she was smiling when she replied, "Lovely, my dear. We'll see you Sunday. And please, Elsa, call me Miss Nella."

  Rafe stood back, waiting, cooling his heels and his tem­per, while Ellison kissed Elsa's hand before climbing into the back of the Rolls with his aunt. As soon as the chauf­feur drove them away, Rafe walked up beside Elsa.

  "You didn't bother to tell Miss Nella that you'll be bringing a guest."

  "What?" Elsa whirled around to face Rafe.

  "Where you go, I go," he reminded her.

  "Oh, yes. I forgot. But I'm sure it'll be all right. After all, Miss Nella knows why I have a bodyguard. But per­haps I should phone Ellison in the morning and—"

  'Ellison? I thought you didn't especially like the man. But suddenly because his aunt invites you to Sunday din­ner, you're on a first-name basis with him."

  She glared at Rafe. "What's wrong with you? You're acting as if I committed some terrible crime by accepting Miss Nella's kind invitation."

  "Kind invitation, my ass. Miss Nella's picked you out to become Mrs. Ellison Southwell Mays." When Elsa opened her mouth for a rebuttal, he held up a restraining hand. "Don't try to tell me you're clueless. You know as well as I do that—"

  "So what? Should I be insulted that a woman such as Miss Nella would consider me worthy of becoming a member of her family?"

  "Good God, Elsa, listen to yourself. You sound like some little gold digger who's just dying to marry into the wealthiest family in town."

  Elsa pursed her lips and narrowed her gaze. "If I didn't believe so firmly in nonviolence, I'd slap you, Rafe Devlin. I have no interest whatsoever in marrying Ellison."

  "Then why—" Aha. Harry Colburn! "I get it. If you're good enough for Ellison Mays, then you're certainly good enough for Harry Colburn." Rafe grasped Elsa's elbow, maneuvering her down the alley. "What do you intend to do—just happen to mention to Harry on your date tomor­row night that you're having Sunday dinner with Ellison and his aunt?"

  Keeping in step with Rafe as they rounded the building and headed toward her car, where Kate and Frank waited, Elsa said softly, "I refuse to rise to the bait. You want me to react, don't you? I think you'd actually like for me to slap you."

  "Honey, you have no idea what I really want." She didn't pause as they neared her Honda Civic, but she didn't say another word to him.

  Chapter 7

  Elsa drove silently, maneuvering her Honda Civic through the minimal downtown Thursday-night traffic and doing her best to ignore the sulking, hulking bodyguard who sat beside her. She'd be the first to admit that she didn't know much about men—and definitely nothing about a man like Rafe Devlin. She knew a great deal about absentee fathers and drunken mothers, dependent sisters and delinquent brothers. And she knew the media busines
s inside out, having learned through years of experience, first as a gofer, then a receptionist and later as a secretary and finally as Grace Beaumont Tyree's personal assistant. She'd spent her entire thirty-one years taking care of her­self and looking after her three younger siblings because there was no responsible adult in their lives. She had worked after school and put herself through college. She'd done without pretty clothes, a decent car and turned down dates time and again because Troy, Sherrie and Milly al­ways came first.

  Her experience with men had been limited to business acquaintances and associates until she'd landed the job as manager of WJMM's TV and radio stations here in Mays­ville. And now, suddenly she had three men in her life. Count 'em—three. And if truth be told, she wasn't sure how to deal with any of them. Rafe had gotten bent out of shape because he objected to what he thought was her social-climbing attitude. What the hell did he know about her, about her life? Nothing except what he'd read in a Dundee Agency report. Yes, she'd been born on the wrong side of the tracks, poor, underprivileged, with a couple of losers for parents. Yes, she had longed to be one of those lucky kids with money and social standing instead of one of "those pitiful Leone kids." What was so wrong with wanting to marry a man who could offer her everything she'd been denied? And who was Rafe Devlin to judge her? She didn't know anything about his life, either, noth­ing about his past, but she'd bet he wasn't so perfect that he had the right to look down his nose at her choices.

  "I'm not interested in Ellison Mays as a husband." Elsa's voice sounded louder than she'd intended in the quiet, warm interior of the car. "And I'm not using him to make Harry Colburn jealous."

  "If you say so." Rafe kept his eyes focused straight ahead, as if studying the road in front of them

  "Besides, it's really none of your business who I date or why I date them."

  "You're right about that."

  "Then would you please tell me why you thought you had a right to make a judgment call about my accepting the Sunday dinner invitation from Miss Nella?" Elsa sneaked a glance at Rafe just in time to see his jaw tense.

  He didn't reply immediately, as if he needed time to think about his response. "I understand. A lot of kids who grow up dirt poor believe money can buy happiness. You wouldn't be the first woman to marry a man for his money."

  Elsa nearly growled with irritation. "I'm not marrying anybody. And I'm certainly not contemplating marrying Ellison Mays for any reason. And Harry Colburn and I haven't even had our first date yet. Marriage is probably the farthest thing from Harry's mind right now."

  "Yeah, it probably is, so keep that in mind when he tries to seduce you."

  Elsa gripped the steering wheel tenaciously, willing her­self to stay calm. It wasn't like her to allow someone to rile her the way Rafe was doing. Why was it that he got to her this way? Because he excites you. Admit it. Ellison Mays you can handle. Even Harry doesn't scare you, with his playboy reputation. But Rafe scares you silly because every time you look at him, you want— What do you want? She wanted Rafe to teach her what it meant to be a woman. An experienced woman. She wanted Rafe to be her first lover.

  Elsa groaned, causing Rafe to look at her. "Okay," he said, "so maybe I've stuck my nose into your personal business, but I can't help it. It's my job to protect you, to keep you safe, and it's difficult for me to keep quiet when I see your life is in jeopardy in more ways than one. Is it any of my business who you date? No. Is it any of my business if you think fitting into the social scene here in Maysville, possibly by making a good marriage, will give you what you truly want? No, it's none of my business. But, so help me—"

  Elsa turned the Honda into her driveway so quickly that if it hadn't been for their seat belts, Rafe would have slid into her. She stopped abruptly, undid her safety belt and jumped out of the car. "Since it's none of your business, then shut up. Stop trying to tell me how to run my life. You're my bodyguard. Not my father. Not my big brother. Not my boyfriend." When Rafe got out of the car and came around to the hood where she stood, her hands on her hips, she glared at him. "Your job is to protect me from a possible killer. That's it. Beginning and end of your obligation to me. Don't give me any more unwanted ad­vice."

  Elsa stomped up the sidewalk and onto the front porch. The moaning night wind seeped through her coat and chilled her to the bone. At the door she fumbled with the lock. For some damn reason the key wouldn't work.

  She cursed softly under her breath. Rafe came up behind her. She tried again to unlock the door, wanting nothing more than to get away from him. Without saying a word, he reached around her, his big body touching hers, his heat warming her, and took her keys away from her. He shifted down the key chain from the key she'd tried to insert in the lock and brought up her house key, which fit the lock and undid it instantly. She sighed, realizing she'd been trying to undo her front door with the key to her WJMM office.

  Rafe unlocked the door and then dropped the keys in her coat pocket, his hand lingering for a second longer than necessary where the pocket lining rested against her hip. He stepped around her, pushed the door wide open and waited for her to enter. With her head held high, she marched into the foyer and made a mad dash for the hall­way. Before she got two feet away, Rafe slammed the door, hurriedly punched in the security code on the pad by the front door, then reached out and grabbed her. Her breath caught in her throat as he whirled her around and their hostile gazes collided. She opened her mouth to pro­test, but didn't make a sound. The look in his eyes fright­ened her. She wasn't sure whether he wanted to kiss her or strangle her. Two seconds later he showed her exactly what he wanted.

  Rafe shoved her up against the foyer wall, grasped her wrists and held her hands to each side of her hips. Her heartbeat roared in her head. His gaze narrowed. He low­ered his head. Oh, have mercy! she thought.

  His mouth devoured hers. Hot and demanding. Taking her roughly, overpowering her with his hunger. She had never known anything like it. Not ever. Her whole body came to life, burning, screaming, yearning for more and not even knowing what more was. He thrust his tongue into her mouth and every nerve in her body zinged with anticipation. He pressed himself into her until she felt the firmness of his arousal. He deepened the kiss, making her crazy. She squirmed against him, wanting everything. When they were both breathless, he lifted his mouth from hers and skimmed his lips down her neck, his tongue and teeth working wild magic. Her femininity clenched and unclenched as she ached and moistened.

  "Elsa. . ." His voice was deep and rough, drenched with desire.

  She moaned and shook her head. He loosened his hold on her wrists and stepped back away from her a few inches. Instantly she felt the loss of his body heat and opened her eyes to look at him.

  "Rafe?"

  He ran his hand over his mouth, then rubbed his chin as he moved a couple of feet back from her. "All the money in the world can't buy that," he told her. "Unless a man can make you feel what I just made you feel, you shouldn't waste his time or yours."

  Elsa stared at Rafe in disbelief. Had he kissed her, aroused her to the point of madness, just to prove a point? Had what just happened been nothing more than a lesson in love to Rafe? Damn him!

  "You proved your point. You should be very proud of your powers of persuasion, Mr. Devlin." She hurt so badly that she thought she would break into a million fragmented pieces of pain any minute now. Don 7 you dare fall apart in front of him. Do you hear me? "You're good. You're very good." Her voice trembled, but she didn't care. To hell with Rafe Devlin.

  Elsa turned and walked away. She made it all the way to the staircase before she started running. She raced up the stairs, tears flowing down her cheeks, the sound of Rafe calling her name echoing in her ears.

  Troy moved away from Alyssa to zip up his pants, then turned to look at her as she lay on the front seat of the truck, her breasts still bare and her hair tousled. Their gazes met and locked. He loved Alyssa. She was every­thing sweet and good and wonderful. God knew he didn't deserve her, that he was
n't fit to kiss her feet. But from the first minute she'd paid the least bit of attention to him, he'd wanted her. Wanted her so much, she'd been all he could think about. Night and day. And the first time they made love, he'd known that all the other girls he'd been with in the past didn't matter. Nothing and no one mat­tered. Only Alyssa.

  As she groped around in the semidark truck cab, search­ing for her discarded jeans, Troy grasped her by the nape of her neck and hauled her up against him, her bare breasts to his bare chest. He groaned, loving the feel of her, even after he was completely satisfied.

  "I love you," he told her, then kissed her passionately. With other girls, after he'd gotten what he wanted, he hadn't cared about cuddling. With Alyssa it was different. He could hold her all night. Wanted to be close to her all the time.

  "Oh, Troy, I love you, too. You know I do, but—"

  "No buts. We've made our decision. It's the only one we could have made, considering the alternatives."

  She pulled away from him, reached down to the floor­boards and dragged her jeans up onto the seat. Moving quickly, she pulled up her jeans and zipped them, then tried to button her blouse, but her fingers trembled so much that she couldn't manage the simple task. Troy reached over and did the job for her. She looked up at him and smiled. His stomach did a crazy flip-flop.

  "My daddy's going to go nuts when he finds out. He's made plans for my future, and those plans don't include a husband and a baby anytime soon."

  Troy clenched his jaw, thinking about what Alyssa had left unsaid. That it wouldn't have mattered if they were older and had already finished their educations—Dr. Alden would never approve of Troy Leone as a husband for his only child, his beloved daughter.

  "He'll get over it," Troy said. "Once we're married and—"