"None, other than his possible connection to Ryker."
Nate gripped the glass in his big hand, sloshing the contents around and around as he stared down sightlessly at the liquid. He had enough problems in his life right now without having a puzzle to solve. Was Carranza friend or foe? Was he really trying to warn Nate or was he trying to help Ryker?
"Well, well, take a look at that, would you?" Romero said, emitting a low, sensual growl as he stared across the room. "What is something like that doing in a place like this?"
Slowly, with total disinterest, Nate glanced across the room, looking at the woman who'd gained his friend's attention. He felt as if he'd been hit in the stomach with a sledgehammer. It was her. The woman from the beach. The woman who was staying at the cottage across the road from his house. And she looked sorely out of place walking into the Brazen Hussy, although she had obviously tried to dress for the occasion. Wearing a red silk jumpsuit, a pair of four-inch red heels and teacup-size gold hoops dangling from her ears, she should have looked like any of the other "working girls" casing the bar for an easy mark, but she didn't. Even with the added touch of red lipstick and red nail polish, she still emitted an aura of innocence. Her beautiful face was too fresh, her eyes too warm and bright, her movements too hesitant for her to be a pro.
"Maybe her car broke down," Nate said. "Or maybe she's slumming."
"I don't think so," Romero said, smiling as he watched the woman cross the room. "She looks too classy for a one-night stand. But, if I thought she was interested—"
"You always did have a weakness for blondes." Nate had seen his friend succumb to the charms of more than one blond beauty over the years. But this woman wasn't for Nick Romero.
Laughing, Romero slapped Nate on the back. "And you, my friend, never had a weakness for anything."
Until now, Nate almost said. Hell, what was the matter with him? The woman didn't mean a damn thing to him. He didn't even know her. So what if just looking at her aroused him? Half the guys in the bar were probably readjusting their pants right now.
"Weaknesses can get you killed," Nate said.
"Oh, but what a way to die!" Romero reared back in his chair, bringing the front legs up off the floor. "She's bound to get into trouble, alone in a place like this. Maybe I should offer my assistance."
When Romero lowered his chair back on the floor and started to get up, Nate threw out a restraining hand. "Don't."
Romero sat back down, glaring at Nate. "Hey, old pal, I saw her first. Remember the rules."
"The rules don't apply here." Nate looked past Romero, his gaze riveted to the woman who had approached the table of noisy, swaggering teens. "But if they did, then she'd be mine. I saw her first."
"You what?"
"Last night. On the beach." Nate watched as she placed her hand on a boy's shoulder. What the hell was she doing in a place like the Brazen Hussy? he wondered.
"Tell me more," Romero said. * * *
The group of teenage boys stared up at her when she approached their table, Casey easing back his chair as if he intended to stand. When she put her hand on Bobby's shoulder, he slumped down in the chair and hung his head so low his chin rested on his chest.
Casey smiled at her, a cocky look on his youthful face. "What are you doing here, Ms. Porter, checking out the action?"
"Shut up," Bobby said in a whispered hiss.
"Hey, you two know this sexy freak?" A husky young blonde asked, turning in his chair, sticking out his muscular chest.
"Yeah, we know her," Casey said, standing up to face Cyn.
The blonde stood up and walked behind Bobby's chair to stand beside Cyn. "Introduce us."
"Lazarus my man, meet Cyn Porter." Casey's laughter chilled Cyn. Obviously, the boy was already high.
The husky youth reached out and ran the tips of his fingers across Cyn's cheek, watching her, obviously waiting for a reaction. "Cyn, huh?" He laughed, the sound menacingly unnerving. "I like it. Lazarus Jones, at your service, baby doll."
Cyn's earlier uncertainty when she'd made the decision to come to the Brazen Hussy turned into outright apprehension. Jutting out her chin, she tried to appear undisturbed by the boy's crude come-on.
When she slowly pulled back away from his sweaty touch, he snickered and flashed Cyn a lascivious smile that turned her stomach. "Tell me, is Cyn ready to sin tonight?"
She looked down at his hand, noticing the thick coiled snake tattoo that began at his knuckles and ran up past his wrist. "Are you the man Casey and Bobby came here to meet tonight?" Cyn asked, trying to keep the tone of her voice calm and steady.
"Ms. Porter, please..." Bobby knocked Cyn's hand from his shoulder in an effort to stand, but Casey shoved him back down into his chair. "How did you know where to find us?" Bobby began to tremble.
"You don't really want to be here, do you, Bobby?" Cyn asked. "Why don't you and I leave, go get a hamburger and talk?"
"Hey, baby doll, you can't leave yet," Lazarus Jones said, placing his arm around Cyn's waist. "Besides, you can't have any fun with a kid like him. Hell, he's probably still a virgin."
Bobby jumped up, his big blue eyes glaring at Lazarus. "Leave her alone! Come on, Ms. Porter, I'll go with you."
"Sit down, kid. You came here for a little blow, didn't you? The party hasn't even started yet." Lazarus pulled Cyn up against him. "I got enough for you, too, baby doll. Enough of everything."
When Lazarus rubbed himself against Cyn, fissions of panic exploded in her stomach. Her whistle and Mace were inside her purse, which was inconveniently trapped between her and the muscle-bound delinquent.
"I'm not interested in anything you have, Mr. Jones," Cyn said, staring him directly in the eye, hoping her false bravado would pay off.
Lazarus released her momentarily, long enough to shove another teen out of his chair and onto the floor. "Get up and give the lady your seat."
When Lazarus grabbed Cyn by the arm, she tried to pull away. He held fast. She began raising her leg, slowly, intending to knee her overly zealous admirer in the groin. Bobby knotted his hands into fists, thrusting one out in front of him.
Suddenly, Lazarus Jones released Cyn, then dropped to his knees. A very big man stood behind Lazarus, his hands on the boy's shoulders, the pressure from his hold keeping him subdued. Letting out a stream of colorful obscenities, Lazarus squirmed, trying to free himself, but to no avail.
Cyn looked up at her rescuer. Her head began to spin. Her knees bolted. She grabbed the back of a chair to steady herself. It was him. The man on the beach. He was even bigger, darker and more deadly close up.
He looked different fully clothed and with his long hair pulled back into a short, neat ponytail. Wearing faded jeans, a dark cotton shirt, tan sport coat and snakeskin boots, he looked a little bit like a cowboy, Cyn thought. No, not a cowboy—an Indian dressed in white man's garb.
While Lazarus, still on his knees, continued his tirade, the other boys at the table began to get up, one at a time, and move backward. No one else in the Brazen Hussy paid much attention, except another big, dark man a few tables over who was watching the situation with amusement. Cyn couldn't help but notice him when he nodded at her and smiled.
"What would you like for me to do with him?" Nate asked Cyn, tightening his hold on the boy.
"Hey, man, what's she to you?" Casey asked. "Lazarus didn't mean no harm. He just considers himself a ladies' man."
''Is that right... Lazarus? Are you a ladies' man?" Nate didn't smile, but the tone of his voice was teasing.
"Let me go," Lazarus said, snarling his features into a threatening look. "If you know what's good for you, you'll let me go and get the hell out of here before I kill you."