More than you'll ever know, he said silently as he released her chin. "Don't try to use Romero to make me jealous. It won't work." * * *
Nate hated to admit that he was jealous of his best friend, but he was. After Romero had sent the swords and note to the lab with another agent, Nate had done everything he could to persuade his old buddy to leave, but Romero had stayed. And, although Cyn hadn't deliberately flirted with Romero, she had been friendly and cooperative, answering his questions without asking him any in return. Nate would have already left, but Cyn had invited them to stay for lunch, and after Romero had accepted, what else could he have done but stay?
Now the three of them were sharing afternoon coffee on Cyn's patio. Romero was his usual charming, flattering Casanova self—as smooth as silk. His friend's way with the ladies had never bothered Nate before. Usually, he watched Romero's magic skills with amusement. But not today. Nate had never felt such gut-wrenching jealousy. Cyn Porter, whether he wanted her to be or not, had become important to him. She was more than just another woman, and she most certainly was not a woman he wanted to share.
When the phone rang, they all jumped. Cyn answered, then handed the phone to Romero. Nate glanced over at her just in time to catch her staring at him.
"Swords were clean. The note, too," Romero said. "Your guess about the gift-giver is probably right."
Nate merely nodded. The note had been typed. For your collection... the words as meaningful or as meaningless as anyone's personal interpretation.
"Fine," Nate said, having been reasonably certain that the gift had been from Ryker. Just his little way of letting Nate know that his whereabouts were no longer a secret. But it didn't mean Ryker was in town. On the contrary, the little gift was more than likely just another method of making Nate sweat. Maybe Ryker's business associate, Ramon Carranza, had arranged to have the swords delivered. After all, this guy Carranza lived close by, just a few miles away in St. Augustine.
"Would you care for some more coffee, Nick?" Cyn asked, trying to concentrate all her energies toward playing the perfect hostess while avoiding any eye contact with Nate. She had never deliberately tried to make one man jealous of another, and having done so today made her feel uncomfortable. But Nate had a way of making her act out of character. She had seldom met anyone, man, woman or child, who didn't respond to her loving and caring attitude. Nate had made it perfectly clear that he wasn't interested in being friends.
"I'd love to take you out for dinner tonight," Romero said. "I know this great seafood place down—"
"She can't go," Nate said.
"Sorry," Romero said, turning toward his friend. "I didn't realize you and Cyn had plans for tonight."
"We don't," Cyn said.
"Well, we do," Nate said at the same time Cyn spoke.
"Which is it?" Romero asked, grinning. "You do or you don't?"
Once again Cyn and Nate answered simultaneously.
"We don't."
"We do."
"Hey, I'm out of here," Romero said, standing. Taking Cyn's hand in his, he bestowed a gentlemanly kiss. "Looks like my friend has staked his claim."
Cyn decided the best course of action was to say and do nothing until Nick Romero left. After all, her problem wasn't with him. It was with Nate Hodges.
The moment she heard Romero's car start, she turned to Nate. "Do you want to tell me what's going on?"
"There's a guy who's been giving me some trouble. He probably sent the swords as some sort of joke. He's got a sick sense of humor." Nate noted that she didn't seem overly impressed with his explanation. The way she was staring at him made him wonder if she was getting ready to douse him with the contents of her cup. "Romero works for the government, and I knew he could get everything checked out."
"I'd ask more questions, but I doubt you'd answer them." Cyn stood, placed her cup on the concrete-and-glass table, then turned to Nate. "I don't know what sort of trouble you're in, and it's obvious you don't want me to know. So be it. But I wasn't referring to the swords or whatever mess you've gotten yourself into. I want to know why you told Nick that we have a date for dinner when we don't."
"I don't want you getting mixed up with Romero."
"Why not? He's a friend of yours, isn't he?"
"Hell, woman, he's got a thing for blondes." Nate jumped to his feet, his eyes dark with warning.
Cyn took several steps backward. "I like Nick."
"And he likes you. Romero likes all pretty blondes, and most of them like him." Didn't she understand that he cared about her, that he didn't want to see her harmed in any way. After all, if her safety wasn't uppermost on his mind, he'd have her in his bed right now, making slow, sweet love to her. "Stay away from Romero if you don't want to wind up just another number in his little black book."
"Are we going out for dinner?" she asked.
"What?"
"Are we going—''
"No."
"Then leave."
"What?" he asked.
"I said leave."
"Fine." He crashed his coffee cup against the top of the glass table, cracking the ceramic mug. "Go back to Jacksonville and get out of my life." He stalked away.
Maybe he was right, she thought as she watched him disappear around the side of the house. She had come to Sweet Haven to rest, to get away from all her problems, from the memories. But being Nate Hodges's neighbor had simply created new problems—problems she had hoped she could handle by offering the man her friendship. She'd been a fool. There was something far stronger than friendship between them. Nate wanted to be her lover, but for reasons only he knew, he was determined to send her away. And for reasons only God knew, she was just as determined not to leave him. * * *
Nate stood at a distance, watching her for a long time before pushing himself away from the tree and heading out onto the beach. He hadn't intended seeing her again, but he knew he had to get her to leave the cottage, return to Jacksonville, to the safety of her apartment. If Ryker came to Sweet Haven, Nate wanted Cynthia Porter long gone.
Cyn saw him approaching. She had noticed him a good while ago standing by the cypress, staring out at the ocean, occasionally glancing at her as she strolled along the beach. He looked remarkably handsome in his leisure attire. His cutoff jeans, his wrinkled shirt, his leather sandals. He'd combed his hair back and tied it with what looked like a shoe string.
"Hi," he said as he came up beside her, falling into step with her as she continued walking up the beach.
"Hi." She looked away quickly, not even momentarily slowing her stride.
"I'm sorry about the way I acted earlier. I've got a lot of problems in my life right now, and I took some of my frustration out on you." He had decided that somehow, some way, he had to get Cynthia out of his life, out of Sweet Haven and back to the safety of her Jacksonville apartment. But how was he ever going to get around to the subject of her leaving? He'd tried the hardball approach and it hadn't worked.
"I don't understand you, Nate. You're such a complex man. You can be so gentle, so understanding... and then you turn into a monster." What was he doing here, following her? She wanted an explanation. His apology just wasn't enough.
"I'm not used to women like you any more than you're accustomed to men like me. It's only natural that we'd have a difficult time understanding each other."
"You send out mixed signals," she said, slowing her pace so that she could look at him. "It's as if you're pulling me toward you with one hand and pushing me away with the other." She didn't miss the slight tightening of his jaw, the strained quiver.
"Like I told you, I've got some major problems in my life right now, problems I don't want to involve anyone else in." Could he make her understand without telling her about Ryker? If only he hadn't met her now when a relationship with her would mean putting her life on the line.