Determined to Protect, Forbidden to Love: Ramirez's Woman / Her Royal Bodyguard / Protecting the Princess

“Hey, Ramirez is good-looking, charming, rich and powerful. That’s a combination that any woman would find hard to resist.”

“J.J. isn’t just any woman,” Vic reminded him. “Her hobby seems to be cutting men down to size, even guys like Ramirez.”

“I’d say in this case, the odds are fifty-fifty as to who will wind up cutting the other down to size.”

J.J. surprised him. He had been certain when he’d asked her to wear a little black dress this evening, she would deliberately choose the exact opposite. If he’d bet on her actions, he would have lost.

She stood at the top of the stairs looking like a beautiful princess. His princess. No, not a princess, a first lady. El presidente’s lady. He and Dom Shea watched her as she descended the stairs, her Dundee partner apparently as entranced by her as Miguel was.

Luscious red lipstick stained her full, pouty lips, making her creamy skin appear even lighter than it was. Her dress was black, a classic style, with a rounded neckline that showed just a hint of décolletage and a hem that stopped an inch below her knees and showed off her shapely calves encased in black silk stockings. The dress fit her as if it had been molded to her body, yet was not skintight. She had brushed her short, curly hair behind her ears to show off the diamond earrings. The delicate diamond necklace sparkled around her slender neck.

It was at that moment that Miguel knew he had never seen anything more beautiful in his entire life. Jennifer was truly beauty personified. He wanted her with a desperate passion.

And he would have her!

“Good evening.” She glanced from Dom to Miguel, then as if sensing the desire raging inside him, she turned her gaze back on her fellow Dundee agent.

“What did you do, rob a jewelry store?” Dom stared at her diamonds.

She touched the shimmering necklace. “I’m wearing engagement gifts from my fiancée.” She wiggled her ring finger in front of him.

Dom let out a long, low whistle. “Aren’t you a lucky girl.”

“I’m pretending to be.”

Miguel cleared his throat. The easy camaraderie between Dom Shea and Jennifer bothered him. Admit the truth, he thought to himself. You are jealous of Dom. Of any man who is her friend.

Ignoring Miguel completely, J.J. asked Dom in English, “I assume you’re carrying a weapon, right? The gun Miguel provided for me is in my handbag.”

“You are both expecting something unpleasant to happen tonight?” Miguel asked, also in English.

“Possibly,” Dom replied.

“Probably,” J.J. added.

“I will be among friends and supporters. I doubt Anton will have invited anyone who would attempt—”

“You were surrounded by admirers at the Ebano Country Club today and yet somehow, someway, a dozen snakes were released in the dining room and created havoc,” J.J. quickly reminded him.

“Then you expect another silly prank?” Miguel asked.

“We don’t know what to expect,” Dom said.

“Before we leave, let me remind you that if anything does happen, I’m your bodyguard,” J.J. told him. “It’s my job to protect you, not the other way around. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand. But as a man, it is simply my nature automatically to protect a woman.”

“Don’t think of me as a woman,” she told him. “Think of me only as your protector.”

“I will try, Señorita Blair, but it will not be easy.”

When J.J. caught a glimpse, in her peripheral vision, of Dom grinning, she cast him a don’t-you-dare-laugh glare.

“Shall we go?” J.J. slipped her arm through Miguel’s.

Dom followed them outside to the limousine. Carlos stood by the open door, waiting for them. J.J. steeled her nerves as she slid into the limo. She didn’t know which concerned her most—her irrational attraction to Miguel or not knowing what might happen at tonight’s dinner party.

Anton Casimiro’s penthouse apartment in downtown Nava was large and lavishly decorated with the best money could buy. Tonight, the crowd gathered here were all avid supporters of Miguel Ramirez, many devout Nationalists and others simply new converts to the party because of their admiration for the beguiling Ramirez.

How Diego had managed to acquire an invitation for her tonight, Gala did not know. And she dared not ask. She was here on an assignment, one Diego expected her to carry out without fail. All she knew was that she had an accomplice who would actually do the deed, but she carried the means of accomplishing that deed in her purse.

“You will carry this purse tonight.” Diego had handed her the designer, one-of-a-kind, cobalt-blue leather handbag, etched with a floral design in burgundy thread. “You will leave your purse wherever the other ladies leave their bags. After that, you are free to enjoy yourself. Flirt with Ramirez. If you can draw him away from his fiancée, all the better. It would be amusing if you could place him in a compromising situation.”

“That should not pose a problem. He was very attentive when I met him at the country club today.”

“Be careful not to give yourself away.” Diego had grasped her chin and clamped his fingers harshly into her cheeks. “Ramirez is no fool. If he smells a trap, he will run. Or he will turn on you.”

She knew what she had to do. She had already left her purse with the other ladies’purses and was now free to search for amusement. If she could not seduce Miguel, then she would turn her attention to someone in his group of close confidantes. Emilio Lopez perhaps. With his wife fat as a cow at present, he should be easily seduced. If not, there was always Roberto Aznar. There was a smoldering sensuality about the man that intrigued her.

As she made her way through the crowd milling about drinking and nibbling on hors d’ oeuvres, she heard someone shout, “He’s here.”

Standing on tiptoe for a better view of the foyer, Gala Hernandez frowned the moment she saw the way Miguel’s fiancée clung to his arm, her gaze glued to him with rapt attention. Miguel looking at her adoringly. Jennifer Blair might be beautiful, but how talented was she in the bedroom? Gala did not know any man who could resist the promise of oral sex. As soon as she could get near enough to Miguel, she knew exactly what she would whisper in his ear.

Chapter 7

Having acquired a guest list for this evening’s event, J.J. knew before she arrived that this would be a buffet-style dinner instead of the sit-down meal she had hoped it would be. A sit-down dinner usually limited the number to twenty or less, whereas with a buffet, the guest list could swell to fifty or more. From the wall-to-wall people she saw when they first entered Anton Casimiro’s spacious penthouse apartment in the heart of Nava, J.J. surmised that there were already a good fifty people in the huge living room/dining room combined. There had been no way she and Dom could check out the apartment beforehand, which they would have done on any normal assignment. And with a crowd this size, they would have used at least two more agents disguised as guests to mix and mingle. Although a part of her mind was immersed in her role of playing Miguel’s fiancée, the protector side of her personality told her to stay alert, to be vigilant and prepared for anything.

Dom came up behind her and spoke quietly into her ear. “You stay with Miguel. I’ll start mingling and look things over. My gut tells me that we’re in for a surprise, and probably not a pleasant one, before the evening ends.”

She nodded and smiled. And kept her hand securely in Miguel’s. She had no intention of letting him out of her sight, not even for a minute. In a crowd this size, it would be easy to become separated. And that’s all an assassin would need—one unguarded moment.

As they entered the lounge, heads turned. Hushed whispers blended with the chatter, laughter and tinkling of wineglasses. Dom eased away from them and made his way practically unobserved into the crowd. Suddenly a hefty, bearded man wearing a flamboyant orange silk shirt burst through the crowd and, with arms outstretched, came zooming toward them. Thankful that she knew what their host looked like, J.J. tried to relax when Anton Casimiro encompassed both Miguel and her in a bear hug. When he pulled back, laughing, his dark eyes twinkling with mischief, Anton sized J.J. up and then grabbed her hand. After kissing her hand, he held it and while looking right at her, spoke to Miguel.

“You lucky devil, you,” Anton said. “Your fiancée is the most delectable creature I have ever seen.” He kissed her hand again, then told her, “If he ever disappoints you in any way, come to me, lovely lady, and I will be very good to you.”

Accepting Anton’s flirting in the good-natured way she was sure he had intended it, J.J. responded in kind. “I will certainly keep your offer in mind, señor.” She cuddled closer to Miguel. “But I know, in my heart, that Miguel will never disappoint me. In any way.” She winked at Anton.

The world-famous tenor laughed boisterously. “Come, come. Everyone is eager to see you. Both of you.”

When Anton led them from the edge of the foyer and into the lounge, the other guests applauded and several called out his name in a resounding cheer.

“You must say a few words,” Anton suggested.

Keeping his arm around J.J.’s waist, Miguel held up his other arm, signaling the guests to end their exuberant welcome. But only after he began speaking did the round of applause and cheering cease.

“Thank you, one and all, for being here tonight.” He gazed lovingly at J.J. “Jennifer and I look forward to speaking personally to everyone. But this is a dinner party, not a political rally. Let’s eat and drink and enjoy one another’s company.”

J.J. saw the woman halfway across the room, her gaze riveted to Miguel. Damn, how had she finagled an invitation? Her name wasn’t on the guest list. Undoubtedly she had persuaded some man—any man—to bring her here tonight as his date. If J.J. thought that Gala Fernandez’s interest in Miguel was only personal, she wouldn’t be as concerned. But all her instincts and training told her that there was more to Señorita Fernandez’s sudden appearances in Miguel’s life than met the eye. Although she’d been giddy and flirtatious this afternoon at the country club, the lady had also seemed slightly nervous. And tonight, as Gala gazed at Miguel, J.J. thought she saw something more than desire in the woman’s expression. But she wasn’t certain if that barely concealed emotion was fear, anger or concern.