No One Heard Her Scream

before the onslaught of the chef and his kitchen crew. Diego lived amidst the pampering, but he fended for himself, keeping Cavanaugh and his staff at bay. No one knew his comings and goings, by design.

And this morning, although he held the newspaper in his hand, Diego hadn't retained a single word. An image from last night replayed in his mind, over and over.

Drawn to the Riverwalk, he had stood in the shadows, watching her. That's all he intended to do. But Rebecca held him there, spellbound from the first tear. He still pictured her staring out the window, a beautiful face tainted by sadness.

And all he wanted to do was hold her.

Clearly, the woman could handle herself, so why had he been so hell-bent on taking her in his arms? Diego knew the answer, had avoided it like a scourge.

He'd been alone for so long, maybe he'd mistaken her need of comfort for his own. And that thought scared the hell out of him. The isolation of his work, of his life, had sowed a seed of restlessness. He no longer accepted the way things were. And the seed had sprouted, threatening to take root.

The white roses had been plucked from a vendor's cart, an afterthought, the only way he could touch her and still keep his distance. But judging by her reaction, when she shoved her back against the wall in fear, he should have resisted the urge. He hadn't intended to frighten her with the gesture.

But what the hell had he intended? That first day. He should never have made contact with her outside the Imperial. Big mistake. Now he was behaving like an idiot. He had no right to meddle in her personal life. Someone like Rebecca would never—

Intruding on his thoughts, a hulking presence blocked the overhead light, casting a shadow on his day and the sports section. The ugly face of Matt Brogan looked down at him.

'Where were you last night?'

'Out.' Diego found single syllables worked best.

'Not good enough.'

Brogan, the bully. A shaved, meaty head atop broad shoulders with no neck. So early in the morning, and the man wore a suit. Diego had never seen him without one. For all he knew, he wore the damned thing to bed, tie and all. But no matter how expensive the label, Brogan wore designer duds like they came off the rack. That about sized the man up. And those were his good points.

He didn't like Brogan's advantage over him, so he got up and moved, using the pretense of refilling his coffee mug. Brogan stood a head higher and outweighed him by fifty pounds, easy. Diego preferred to keep his distance, choosing a spot across a food preparation island to stand and sip his coffee. Besides, the hanging pots and pans blocked his view of the man's fleshy face. A side benefit.

'Who died and made you hall monitor, Brogan? You're just pissed 'cause I ditched you. You had no business following me, especially when you're no good at it.'

Brogan had been dropped on his head as a child. At least, that's what Diego preferred to believe. Brain damage explained a lot. No sane mother would've raised a child using Brogan as a prototype.

'You don't know nothin' 'bout my business,' he blustered, ready to pick a fight as usual. 'As far as I'm concerned, you're some kinda outsider 'round here. You're nothin' but a damned watchdog with a fancy pedigree forced on us by Rivera and Global Enterprises. And those New York boys don't know squat about our operations in Texas unless the old man tells 'em. The way I see it, Rivera needs us a helluva lot more than we need you. So don't push your luck, mutt.'

'The merger with Global is working as it should be, for now. And I'm here to see that both sides live up to the agreement. But you cause a blip on Castengra's radar screen, and you'll see how much he needs you. Hell, even worse, I wouldn't want to be the guy that topples this house of cards for Cavanaugh. But maybe you're man enough to take both of them on.'

'You threatenin' me?'

Diego shrugged. 'Actually, I'm conducting a scientific study on the correlation between abnormally high levels of machismo and stupidity. I think you'd make a perfect test subject.'

Brogan tightened his jaw and clenched his fists. But after a long moment, the arrogance evaporated from his face.

'Hey, I'm only lookin' out for boss man's interests, even if the old man is too blind to see through your lone wolf act. You been spendin' too much time off the reservation. Don't think it's gone unnoticed.'

Diego laughed and placed a hand over his heart in mock sincerity, trying to downplay his behavior. He didn't need the suspicion.

'Can't a man have a love life without you knowing about it?' He shrugged and shook his head, making light of it all. 'But I tell you, I'm touched. I had no idea you were such a concerned citizen, looking out for the welfare of others. All this time I thought you only cared for numero uno. I see now I was wrong. Can you forgive me, mi amigo?'

'Cut the bullshit. I don't trust you, Galvan.'

The man stepped closer, his eyes no bigger than slits. Diego had seen the look before, but usually rodents didn't come as big as Brogan.

'You're hiding somethin', Mex. And it's only a matter of time before I catch you runnin' crossways of the old man. Then you're mine.'

Diego lowered his voice, his eyes on Brogan. 'A wise man would turn and walk away.'

Brogan sneered. 'Yeah, but which one of us is that smart?'

'If you have to ask—' Diego shrugged. In a surprise move, he turned to go, catching Brogan's reaction from the corner of his eye.

'Hey! Don't you turn your back on me, you son of a bitch.'

The bigger man torqued his jaw and lowered his chin. He dodged the food prep island and lunged for Diego, yanking at his shirt to throw him off-balance. Brogan punched him in the jaw, making the first move.

That's all Diego needed. All his frustrations bubbled to the surface.

In seconds, Brogan's assault would land another fist to Diego's face. He couldn't let him get the upper hand. He stiff-armed the grip Brogan had on his shirt and broke free, dodging the second blow. Ducking under the punch, Diego let the man's weight propel him forward, prodded by a shove of his own. And a well-placed kick to the man's ass sent him sprawling. Brogan hit the floor, hard.

'Uumpphh.'

The man stumbled to his feet, seething from his abrupt encounter with masonry. He came up bleeding. His lip cut.

'It's not too late for you to apologize.' Diego knew his caustic remark would lead to round two. He wasn't disappointed.

In tight quarters, Brogan came at him again, shoulder lowered like a linebacker. He pinned Diego to the kitchen counter, grappling him in a bear hug. He saw stars with the exertion. The edge of the tile counter cut into his back. He had to make a move, fast. A man as big as Brogan could do some serious damage. Diego let his instincts take over. He shoved the man's head back and punched Brogan's nose. Once. Twice. On his third attempt to break free, Diego felt the man's cartilage give way.

Brogan cried out in pain and released his grip on Diego. With eyes watering, the man bent over in agony, hands to his face.

'Shit, you broke my—'

Before Brogan got his bearings and tried something else, Diego shoved him back and swept his legs out from under him, toppling him to the floor. He held the man down, pinning his throat with an arm to cut off his air, a powerful persuader.

Brogan had tested Diego on other occasions, picking his spots. So far, the results had been the same. He never learned from his mistakes, but Diego couldn't let his guard down for a second. He had to stay sharp. And on top of it all, he suspected Brogan had his own agenda. The man wouldn't hesitate to kill if he got the chance. That made his counterpart very dangerous. Within Cavanaugh's organization, Matt Brogan had earned his number one ranking.

Diego reminded himself of this fact as he watched Brogan's face turn purple. He still cinched the man's throat in a viselike squeeze. In a generous concession, he eased up on his chokehold. And Brogan collapsed to the floor, sucking air into his lungs.