Books By Diana Palmer

by Palmer, Diana

  "I send them over to his house so that we can have some peace and quiet at ours," Cole explained dryly. "Shelby told Heather that she wished she had more than two kids of her own." He pursed his lips at King. "You aren't too old yet, are you?"

  "Speak for yourself, Grandpa," King returned. He glanced at Dane curiously. "Ever think of marrying again?" he asked bluntly.

  Dane didn't bat an eyelash. "No. Anything in particular you wanted, besides a look at my houseguest?" he added with a meaningful stare.

  "We could use a new bull," Cole reminded him. "King's got one he's ready to sell, and he needs a new one of his own. Since you and I are ready to unload...er, sell...that bull of ours, King thought we might work out a trade, when you've got time to discuss it." He grinned at Tess, ignoring King's dry glance in his direction. "Not today, of course."

  Dane chuckled at the blatant excuse. He saw right through them. "Okay," he said. "I'll come over next weekend and we'll talk about it." By then, he thought, he'd have sprung the trap on Tess's assailant and she'd have moved out. The thought depressed him.

  "Suits us," King said. "As for unloading your bull on me," he added with a mocking smile at Cole Everett, "that'll be the day."

  "You watch too many reruns of old John Wayne movies," Cole pointed out. "You're starting to sound like the character he played in The Searchers."

  The younger man cocked an eyebrow. "All the same, you won't slip a worn-out bull under my nose."

  Cole looked insulted. "Would I do that to a business partner?"

  "Sure," King said pleasantly. "Like you tried to land me with that gelding last year when I wanted a new stallion for my stud."

  "It wasn't my fault. I swear to God I had no idea he'd been to the vet—"

  "Like hell you didn't. He was in on it with you," he added, nodding toward Dane. "You gave it away when you started snickering into your hat."

  "Yes, but the joke backfired, didn't it?" King mused. "I bought the animal anyway and he turned out to be one of the best stud horses I've got. The vet pulled a fast one on both of you."

  Tess was laughing out loud by now. "I thought you people were friends!'' she burst out.

  "Oh, we are," King agreed. "But friends are much more dangerous than enemies."

  "I'll drink to that," Dane murmured.

  "Yes, well, it pays not to turn your back on these two," Cole returned. "Are you staying at the ranch long? Heather would enjoy getting to meet you, I'm sure. I imagine your job is pretty interesting. He never talks about it." He jerked a thumb toward Dane.

  "That's how he keeps his clientele," Dane returned easily.

  “We're leaving in a few minutes, but maybe I'll bring her over another time."

  "You do that. Well, we'll see you next weekend, then."

  "Nice to have met you," King added to Tess. He wheeled his mount and started up. Cole Everett smiled and followed suit.

  Tess watched them ride away. "Have your friends been married along time?"

  "Years and years," he replied. "Their kids are all in their early teens now." Kids. His face hardened. "We'd better get back."

  She put her hand on his upper arm as he gathered the reins in one lean hand. "Don't let it wear on you like that," she said softly. "Dane, children aren't everything...."

  "They are if you can't produce any," he said tersely. He looked into her eyes with pure malice. "Tell me you don't want a baby, Tess," he challenged coldly.

  Her eyes clouded with mingled anguish and compassion, but he didn't read it that way at all. He cursed under his breath and rode quickly ahead of her, leaving her to follow behind him with her heart in her shoes. She knew then that he was never going to give in. He wouldn't marry again, because the specter of not having children was too much for him to bear. He'd never be convinced that she could be happy without them, so no matter what his feelings for her were, marriage was out of the question. He'd made that clear just now, without saying a single word.

  She was sore and shaky when they got back to the barn. Dane saw her grimace and reached up to help her down. But, as always, the feel of her body triggered helpless longings in his own.

  He let her slide down against him, his hands firm on her waist, his eyes holding hers.

  "I like your friends," she whispered huskily.

  “So do I." He had to fight to breathe normally. He looked down at her soft mouth and all but groaned. "We have to go back."

  She drew in an unsteady breath. "I enjoyed the ride."

  "Sore?"

  She nodded and smiled. "I'm not used to horses, but I think I could learn to like riding."

  He searched her eyes slowly. “I could learn to like a lot of things, if I let myself." His face hardened. "I want you so," he whispered roughly. "But I can't have you."

  "Dane..."

  He let go of her and moved back. "No. In a day or two, we'll wrap up your problem. Then we'll get on with our lives."

  He turned to lead the horses into the barn. He had shut her out. Just that easily, he turned his back on what had happened, on any future that contained both of them. As they drove back to Houston, Tess thought she'd never felt quite so alone.

  As long as she and Dane were communicating, she'd been able to push what had happened with the attempted kidnapping to the back of her mind. That, and the trap they were going to set the following Monday night for the men. Now she worried over it until her hands were twisting nervously in her lap. If anything went wrong, she could die this time. She glanced at Dane and wondered if losing her would hurt him at all. That was unfair, she thought. Of course he'd care if she died. He was a caring man, despite his misgivings about her role in his life.

  He saw her worried face. "What's wrong?" he asked quietly.

  "I was thinking about the trap," she said, surprising him. He hadn't let himself consider the upcoming event, because it disturbed him so much. Now he was forced to think about it, and to worry about what might happen if something went wrong.

  His chest rose and fell heavily. "Try to remember that Nick and I are fairly competent at what we do for a living," he said after a minute, his voice deep and slow. "We'll take good care of you, little one. We'll get them."

  She smiled wanly. "Okay."

  She didn't sound convinced, but he couldn't dwell on that. He had to hope that the scenario would play as he and Nick had rehearsed it. Once the assailants were in custody, he could decide what to do about Tess. One thing was certain. He had to get her out of his life before he weakened and let her stay. For her own sake, that couldn't happen. He cared too much to let her settle for a barren marriage, even if it was going to kill him to let her go.

  Chapter Seven

  The darkness outside the windows was dismal. Rain had begun to pepper down. It was a cold rain. Tess wrapped her arms around her body, because even the gray sweater she was wearing over dark slacks and a blue-and-gray-patterned blouse didn't spare her from the chill. Behind her, Dane was smoking a cigarette, waiting.

  Out of sight were Nick and Helen and Adams, along with two of Sergeant Graves's best men. Some subtle investigative work had revealed that the office was being watched. Tonight, the office staff was going to take advantage of that surveillance to spring a trap. Dane and Tess were apparently working late. The rest of the office staff had left earlier, with a great deal of noise, so that anyone watching would see them. Once out of sight, they'd parked their cars several blocks away and had crept back into position, as planned.

  Dane checked his watch. He was uneasy. He hadn't wanted to do this, but he had no choice. He couldn't let it drag on, let Tess be constantly in danger. He might not be quick enough the next time. The drug lords had already gotten to her. At least this way, he had a good chance of success in catching them once and for all.

  He didn't want her threatened. He couldn't keep her, but he couldn't bear to see her hurt, ever.

  "Scared?" he asked gently.

  "Terrified," she confessed. "That's normal, isn't it?" she added, turning. "It isn't lack
of fear that creates heroes. It's going ahead, doing what you have to when you're so frightened you can hardly stand on your feet."

  He nodded. "That's it, exactly. I've been in gun battles more than once. Every time, I could taste the fear. But I never ran."

  She smiled. "The adrenaline surge you get from danger is powerful," she remarked. "Once I was away from the drug people and running, I could have flown."

  He scowled. "It's addictive," he said quietly. "That's why I'd never let you work as an operative. You'd have taken to the danger without hesitation. It would have put you at risk constantly."

  "You're at risk constantly," she pointed out. Her eyes slid over his hard, lean face. "But you won't quit, either."

  "I don't have anyone to leave behind," he said. His expression dared her to argue. "This isn't a married man's—or woman's— occupation, not the way we operate. The demands of the job can kill the best of relationships. Jane hated my work when I was a ranger. I was never home."

  Her eyes softened. "Dane, if you'd loved her, really loved her... wouldn't you have been?"

  His face went expressionless. He turned his wrist and glanced at his watch. "It's time." He put out his cigarette. She asked questions he didn't want to answer. "You know what to do."

  "Yes."

  He picked up his attache case, hesitating as he passed her. His dark eyes caressed her face. "Don't take chances. If it goes down unexpectedly, scream, break a window, do anything to get my attention. I won't be out of earshot, no matter what."

  "All right." She swallowed. Her mouth was dry, her palms sweaty. Her heartbeat was racing, but she couldn't let him see how frightened she was. It would only make things worse.

  "You've got plenty of backup," he added. "It's going to be all right. After tonight, it will be over."

  "They can make bail again...."

  "Not in this case. If it's permitted, we'll make sure it's set high enough that they'll never raise it."

  "It's still my word against theirs."

  "After tonight it won't be," he promised. He touched her lips with his forefinger. "Chin up, lover," he breathed. He bent his head and nipped her lower lip hard, making her mouth open so that he could take it hungrily. But before she could reach up to hold him, he was out the door.

  She was alone. The office was suddenly cold and frightening. She paced nervously. Dane had had time to get to the parking lot, get to his car and put the attache case in the trunk. From there, he was going to light a cigarette and then start back toward the office. It would look as if he'd just stepped out for a minute, not as if he was deliberately leaving Tess alone—that would have been a dead giveaway to anyone watching that it was a setup.

  In those few minutes, a dark brown sedan had purred to a stop down the street and two men had emerged. From the shadows, they'd eased along the side of the building, keeping Dane in sight until he rounded the corner at the parking lot.

  They'd seen their opportunity and they took it. Darting into the building and then into the elevator, they went up to the floor where the office was located. When the elevator stopped, they were already drawing their weapons. This time they were taking no chances. None at all.

  What they didn't know was that Dane had seen them. Wasting no time, he'd darted around to the back of the building and the service elevator. There was a back way into his office. He had his .45 automatic out, cocked, and in his hand when the main door to the office began to open. Tess had turned automatically to look when she heard the sound. The flash of the first man's gun burned into her consciousness, leaving her rigid, unable to move. She wasn't going to make it. She knew that no operative was going to have time to get to her before the shots hit her. Remembering the pain she'd known before, she stared at the pistol with blank, terror-filled eyes. Dane, she thought in anguish. Her last conscious thought was of him.

  "Duck!"

  The voice commanded and she obeyed, falling to the floor even as the sound of automatic gunfire shattered the silence.

  Dane hit the floor near her, rolling to escape the bullets with all his ex-policeman's skill. He had only one instant to aim and fire, but he was an expert shot. He had one clear shot at the first man with the small Uzi in his hands, and he took it. The drug dealer's gun discharged again and suddenly flew out of his hands seconds before he caught his shoulder and went down, crying out as the bullet hit him. The second man whirled and ran. Dane leaped to his feet with fluid grace, his face set in lines Tess had never seen, his eyes black fires in a stony countenance as he spun the wounded man onto his belly and searched him with quick, deft motions. He always carried handcuffs. He snapped them onto the man's wrists and left him, coming back to Tess, who was by now on her knees and shaking from the experience.

  "The other man," she gasped.

  He took her arm and pulled her to her feet. “Nick will have him by now."

  "Get me a doctor, damn you!" the downed man cried. "This is inhuman! I'm bleeding!"

  "So was Tess when you shot her," he replied, adding a few adjectives that turned Tess's face ruddy.

  "Are you all right?" she asked Dane, her hands unconsciously searching his arms for wounds. "He didn't hit you?"

  A corner of his mouth tugged up. "I've spent most of my life dodging bullets," he reminded her. "I used to get paid for it. Are you all right?"

  "I am now," she said, and leaned against him weakly, her cheek on his chest. She stared at the downed man, who was curled up, groaning. Blood stained his elegant jacket. The Uzi he'd brought with him was dangling from one of Dane's lean hands.

  "Tess!"

  Helen's voice echoed loudly as she leaped from the elevator with Nick right behind. "We heard shots..." She stopped, staring at the downed man briefly before she studied Dane and Tess. "Everybody okay?"

  "We're fine. How about his cohort?" Dane asked, nodding toward the wounded man.

  "I handed him over to Sergeant Graves's men," Nick said, re-holstering his automatic. He gave Helen a dark glare from eyes almost as black as Dane's. "No thanks to my sister, Miss James Bond, here," he added. "She actually walked into the line of fire."

  "I did not!" Helen raged. "You came out of nowhere! Why is it always my fault anytime something goes wrong?" she demanded. "Don't you ever make mistakes, Mr. Perfect?"

  "No," he said with a pleasant smile.

  Dane had to stifle a grin at the expression on Helen's face. "Cut it out," he said. "Call an ambulance for our victim there," he instructed, handing Helen the Uzi.

  "Careful, don't get fingerprints on it," Nick said with deliberate sarcasm.

  "I know how to hold a gun," she said smugly. "You taught me yourself! Are you okay?" she asked Tess.

  "I'm fine, thanks," Tess said breathlessly.

  "Damned detectives," the downed man spat. "Damned detectives!"

  Dane lifted an eyebrow and drew Tess closer. "Come on," he said gently. "Let's get you out of here."

  It was a long night. She had to give a statement, wait until it was typed and read back to her, then sign it. The wounded man was taken to the hospital under police guard. Later he'd be removed to the county jail pending trial. The other man was booked and jailed and his lawyer was telephoned.

  No bail, Dane had promised. Tess breathed easily for the first time.

  She slept without being coaxed, right past the alarm clock. When she woke, there was a note from Dane, telling her not to come to work that day, that she needed the rest.

  Probably she did. And she needed the time to pack, she thought miserably. He hadn't said so, but then he'd barely spoken to her the night before. He'd been kind but impersonal, and he hadn't offered more than cursory comfort. He'd sent her to bed, insisting that she needed sleep more than conversation.

  But what he really wanted was to see the last of her. She didn't need a crystal ball to understand that he wasn't going to let her into his life on any permanent basis. Probably, now that she was out of danger, he wasn't even going to want her in the office anymore. Her very presence would b
e a painful reminder of his vulnerability, of the night he'd given in to his need of her and let himself love her.

  He did love her. That was the only certainty she had. But he was going to fight it, and he might win. That was the chance she was taking by complying with his wishes; by going away without argument. She had to draw back and let him think it out for himself. Only by giving him freedom of choice did she have any chance of convincing him that they could have a future together.

  She packed her things and had them ready when he came home that evening. She was sitting on the sofa, dressed in neat gray slacks with a white bulky-knit sweater, her hair in a braid down her back, her coat next to her.

  She looked up as he entered the apartment. He paused at the sight of her suitcases, scowling.

  "I thought you'd prefer it like this," she said quietly. "No fuss. No trouble." She stood up. "Can you drive me home, please?"

  He drew in a slow breath. She was right. It was better this way. But he'd expected to find her curled up on the sofa, as she'd been so many evenings, watching television. The stark reality of her departure hit him like a body blow.

  "Come on," he said, his voice as stiff as his posture. "I'll do that before I get comfortable."

  "Thank you."

  She put on her coat and followed him out of the apartment. She didn't look back. It would have broken her heart.

  "You don't have to worry about your assailants," he told her. "I have assurances that they won't get out again. You'll have to testify. Graves will notify you."

  "So he said." She concentrated on the streetlights and didn't speak again. She was too choked up for that.

  When they arrived at her apartment, it was cold. She turned up the thermostat while Dane unloaded her suitcases and brought them in. He stood there, elegant in a vested navy blue suit, his posture arrow-straight.

  "Will you be okay?" he asked.

  "Of course. I'm safe, now—right?" she added nervously. "They don't have friends who owe them favors, or anything?"

  He shook his head. “Fortunately, these two are jump-ups—renegades who poached on another pusher's territory. Nobody loves them enough to make you pay for their arrest."