Her hair intrigued him, that thick mass of fiery red curls. Nick felt certain that beneath the rather drab exterior a colorful woman existed. The very thought of discovering what treasures lay buried under that plain gray dress suddenly aroused him unbearably.
He noticed Addy turn abruptly toward the center of the room where Dina was tugging on the tail of Rusty McConnell's tuxedo jacket. When Addy took a step away from her friend, Nick moved forward, following her. Suddenly she broke into a run. Nick couldn't keep up, his gait hampered by his limp. People moved back, making room for Addy's mad dash through the crowd.
'Get out of here, Carlton, or I'll throw you out myself!' Rusty bellowed, his deep voice loud over the band music that continued playing.
With Addy on one side and Dina on the other, the two women tried to hold Rusty away from a younger man who had stopped on the dance floor and still held his partner in his arms. The woman was quite young. No more than twenty-five. And very, very pregnant.
Nick moved closer, stepping up beside Brett Windsor who stood directly behind Addy. Windsor was a pretty boy. Tall blond and muscular.
'Daddy, don't do this. Remember your blood pressure.' Addy clung to her father's huge arm.
'Listen to her, Rusty darling.' Dina clung just as tenaciously to his other arm.
'He wasn't invited,' Rusty said. 'How the hell did you get in here, Carlton?'
The other man, a good-looking guy in his mid-thirties smiled at Rusty. Nick thought the smile said a lot. It was actually a smirk.
'Lori and I received an invitation. I presented it at the door.' The dark-haired young man gave his companion a gentle hug. 'I thought perhaps you'd finally decided to let bygones be bygones.'
'I didn't issue that invitation and neither did Addy. Do you honestly think that after what you put her through she'd want to see you and
Addy stepped forward, slipping her arm through her father's. 'Daddy, don't do this.' She turned to the couple. 'Gerald, you and Lori shouldn't have come here. You're not welcome, and whether or not you received an invitation, you weren't invited. Please go.'
'I told you we shouldn't have come,' Mrs. Carlton said, turning her brown, puppy-dog eyes to her husband beseechingly.
'I guess the McConnells hold a grudge for life,' Gerald Carlton said, looking directly at Addy. 'You certainly haven't changed, Adeline. Still as plain and understated as ever, and still letting Daddy fight all your battles. Too bad you didn't inherit his strength—and his sexual appetite.'
Nick knew Rusty McConnell was going to deck the younger man. Hell,
Addy gasped, then grabbed her father. 'No, don't. It's what he wants.'
Nick stepped forward. He slipped his cane between Gerald Carlton and Rusty McConnell. Both men stared down at the black cane, then up at the man who had dared to interfere.
'Rusty, despite the fact that you're Addy's father and would love to take care of this matter, don't you think it's my place?' Nick turned his cane, positioning the tip in the center of Gerald's chest.
Rusty glared at Nick, obviously dumbfounded by his action. 'Why … what—?'
'What do you think you're doing?' Addy whispered, her voice a hiss.
'I'm doing what you've been trying to do,' Nick said, low and soft, for her ears only. 'I'm trying to stop your father from killing this man.'
'Who are you?' Gerald Carlton asked.
'I'm the man who's asking you to step outside,' Nick said.
Gerald Carlton studied Nick, taking in every aspect of his appearance. His gaze stopped on Nick's cane, the tip lying against his own chest. 'You're not some sort of bodyguard for Rusty. He'd never hire a cripple to protect him, so just who are you?'
'Now see here, Romero—' Rusty said, his voice a snarling growl.
'You're right. I don't work for Rusty.' Nick slipped his arm around Addy's waist, pulling her close to him. 'This is personal.'
Addy's mouth opened in a silent gasp, but Nick had to give her credit. She didn't say a word. She didn't panic. Instead, to his delight, she swayed slightly toward him, resting her body against his.
Gerald laughed, a rather boyish, unmanly laugh. 'You can't mean to imply that you and Addy … that—'
'Let's just say that I'm a man who appreciates all the special qualities in Addy that you were apparently too blind to see, let alone appreciate.' Nick removed his cane from Gerald's chest, then used it to indicate the foyer. 'You have two choices. You and your wife can leave now, or … your wife can take you home after you and I have a little discussion outside.'
Gerald laughed again, but the laughter did not reach his eyes. He glanced around the room. Except for the band playing on, the room was deadly quiet. People were gaping, mouths open, eyes wide, waiting. Gerald looked at Nick. Nick smiled. A part of him hoped this clean-cut, sissified Anglo would step outside with him. Nothing would please him more than to show Mr. Carlton that he was one cripple who could easily beat the hell out of him.
'Gerald, let's leave now,' his wife pleaded.
'If you're really bedding her,' Gerald said, a self-satisfied grin on his face, 'then I hope Rusty is paying you enough to make it worth your while.'
Rusty lunged for Gerald, but Nick stood firmly in the way. He loosened his hold on Addy, shoving her gently away. Only two people heard the deadly warning Nick uttered, the words vulgar and succinct. Rusty and Gerald stood dead still. Gerald's face turned ashen. He grabbed his wife by the arm and made a hasty exit. Stopping at the double doors leading into the foyer, he gave Nick a nasty look, fear and hatred in his hazel eyes.
Rusty McConnell, big and broad and in superb physical condition for a man well past his prime, slapped Nick on the back, then placed his arm around his shoulder. 'Did you mean what you said to him? Would you do it?'
'In a hot minute,' Nick said, then glanced over at Addy, who looked rather lost, her face pale, her eyes overly bright as if she might burst into tears at any moment. 'I take it that Gerald Carlton is the bastard who married you for your daddy's money?'
'How very astute of you, Mr. Romero.' Addy stepped away from the woman in the red sequined dress who appeared to be trying to comfort her.
'Call me Nick.' He smiled. She didn't. 'After what just happened, everyone is going to assume that we're already on a first-name basis.'
'So you should be,' Rusty said, giving Nick another strong pat on the back. 'I could have handled that pip- squeak Carlton without any help, but I have to admit I like the way you stood up for Addy. You're the kind of man she needs.'
'Daddy!'
'Rusty, what a thing to say.' Dina reached for Rusty's big hand, squeezing it tightly. 'Nick and Addy just met, and I hardly think they're a suitable match.'
The crowd began moving about and talking again, several people taking advantage of the dance music, others seeking hors d'oeuvres and champagne. Brett Windsor stepped forward, placing a comforting arm around Addy's waist. Nick had the irrational urge to coldcock Mr. Ivy League. Windsor hadn't kept Addy's father from killing her ex-husband. Windsor hadn't defended Addy when Carlton bad-mouthed her in front of everyone. Windsor hadn't been willing to take the other man outside and teach him some manners.
If anyone should be taking Addy McConnell in his arms, it shouldn't be Brett Windsor. He, Nick Romero, should be the man. But before he could make his way to Addy, to claim her attention, she walked away with Windsor. Rusty still had his big arm draped around Nick's shoulder and Dina had slipped between the two of them, taking each by the arm.
Nick watched while Windsor led Addy out onto the dance floor, took her in his arms and waltzed away with her.
Addy accepted her wrap and purse from the maid, whom she didn't know. Someone new Dina had hired, no doubt. Since becoming engaged to Rusty, Dina had moved into the mansion and hired several new servants,
