Books By Diana Palmer

by Palmer, Diana

  "No!" Jessica said furiously. She actually stood up, vibrating. "No, Eb! I don't want him within a mile of me! I'd rather be shot to pieces!"

  "This isn't multiple choice," came a deep, drawling voice from the general direction of the hall.

  As Sally turned from Jessica's white face, a slender blond man with dark eyes came into the room. He walked with the help of a fancy-looking cane. He was dressed like Eb, in casual clothes, khaki slacks and a bush jacket. He looked like something right out of Africa.

  "This is Dallas Kirk," Eb introduced him to Sally. "He was born in Texas. His real name is Jon, but we've always called him Dallas. This is Sally Johnson," he told the blond man.

  Dallas nodded. "Nice to meet you," he said formally.

  "You know Jess," Eb added.

  "Yes. I...know her," he said with the faintest emphasis in that lazy Western drawl, during which Jess's face went from white to scarlet and she averted her eyes.

  "Surely you can get along for an hour," Eb said impatiently. "I really can't leave you here by yourself, Jess."

  Dallas glared at her. "Mind telling me why?" he asked Eb. "She's a better shot than I am."

  Jessica stood rigidly by her chair. "He doesn't know?" she asked Eb.

  Eb's face was rigid. "He wouldn't talk about you, and the subject didn't come up until he was away on assignment. No. He doesn't know."

  "Know what?" Dallas demanded.

  Jessica's chin lifted. "I'm blind," she said matter-of-factly, almost with satisfaction, as if she knew it would hurt him.

  The look on the newcomer's face was a revelation. Sally only wished she knew of what. He shifted as if he'd sustained a physical blow. He walked slowly up to her and waved a hand in front of her face.

  "Blind!" he said huskily. "For how long?"

  "Six months," she said, feeling for the arms of the chair. She sat back down a little clumsily. "I was in a wreck. An accident," she added abruptly.

  "It was no accident," Eb countered coldly. "She was run off the road by two of Lopez's men. They got away before the police came."

  Sally gasped. This was a new explanation. She'd just heard about the wreck-not about the cause of it. Dallas's hand on the cane went white from the pressure he was exerting on it "What about Stevie?" he asked coldly. "Is he all right? Was he injured?"

  "He wasn't with me at the time. And he's fine. Sally lives with us and helps take care of him," Jess replied, her voice unusually tense. "We share the chores. She's my niece," she added abruptly, almost as if to warn him of something.

  Dallas looked preoccupied. But when Stevie came running back into the room, he turned abruptly and his eyes widened as he stared at the little boy.

  "I'm ready!" Stevie announced, holding out his arms to show the gray sweats he was wearing. His dark eyes were shimmering with joy. "This is how they look on television when they practice. Is it okay?"

  "It's fine," Eb replied with a smile,

  "Who's he?" Stevie asked, big-eyed, as he looked at the blond man with the cane who was staring at him, as if mesmerized.

  "That's Dallas," Eb said easily. "He works for me."

  "Hi," Stevie said, naturally outgoing. He stared at the cane. "I guess you're from Texas with a name like that, huh? I'm sorry about your leg, Mr. Dallas. Does it hurt much?"

  Dallas took a slow breath before he answered. "When it rains."

  "My mama's hip hurts when it rains, too," he said. "Are you coming with us to learn karate?"

  "He's already forgotten more than I know," Eb said in a dry tone. "No, he's going to take care of your mother while we're gone."

  "Why?" Stevie asked, frowning.

  "Because her hip hurts," Sally lied through her teeth. "Ready to go?"

  "Sure! Bye, Mom." He ran to kiss her cheek and be hugged warmly. He moved back, smiling up at the blond man who hadn't cracked a smile yet. "See you."

  Dallas nodded.

  Sally was staggered by the resemblance of the boy to the man, and almost remarked on it. But before she could, Eb caught her eyes. There was a look in them that she couldn't decipher, but it stopped her at once.

  "We'd better go," he said. He took Sally by the arm. "Come on, Stevie. We won't be long, Jess," he called back.

  "I'll count the seconds," she said under her breath as they left the room.

  Dallas didn't say anything, and it was just as well that she couldn't see the look in his eyes.

  It was impossible to talk in front of Stevie as they drove through the massive electronic gates at the Scott ranch. He, like Sally, was fascinated by the layout, which included a helipad, a landing strip with a hangar, a swimming pool and a ranch house that looked capable of sleeping thirty people. There were also target ranges and guest cabins and a formidable state-of-the-art gym housed in what looked like a gigantic Quonset hut like those used during the Second World War in the Pacific theater. There were several satellite dishes as well, and security cameras seemingly on every available edifice.

  "This is incredible," Sally said as they got out of the truck and went with him toward the gym.

  "Maintaining it is incredible," Eb said with a chuckle. "You wouldn't believe the level of technology required to keep it all functioning."

  Stevie had found the thick blue plastic-covered mat on the wood floor and was already rolling around on it and trying the punching bag suspended from one of the steel beams that supported other training equipment.

  "Stevie looks like that man, Dallas," she said abruptly.

  He grimaced. "Haven't you and Jess ever talked?"

  "I didn't know anything about Dallas and my aunt until you told me," she said simply.

  "This is something she needs to tell you, in her own good time."

  She studied the youngster having fun on the mat. "He isn't my uncle's child, is he?"

  There was a rough sound from the man beside her. "What makes you think so?"

  "For one thing, because he's the image of Dallas. But also because Uncle Hank and Aunt Jessie were married for years with no kids, and suddenly she got pregnant just before he died overseas," she replied. "Stevie was like a miracle."

  "In some ways, I suppose he was. But it led to Hank asking for a combat assignment, and even though he died of a heart condition, Jess has had nightmares ever since out of guilt." He looked down at her. "You can't tell her that you know."

  "Fair enough. Tell me the rest."

  "She and Dallas were working together on an assignment. It was one of those lightning attractions that overcome the best moral obstacles. They were alone too much and finally the inevitable happened. Jess turned up pregnant. When Dallas found out, he went crazy. He demanded that Jess divorce Hank and marry him, but she wouldn't. She swore that Dallas wasn't the father of her child. Hank was, and she had no intention of divorcing her husband."

  "Oh, dear."

  "Hank knew that she'd been with another man, of course, because he'd always been sterile. Dallas didn't know that. And Hank hadn't told Jessica until she announced that she was expecting a child." He shrugged. "He wouldn't forgive her. Neither would Dallas. When Hank died, Dallas didn't even try to get in touch with Jess. He really believed that Stevie was Hank's child. Until about ten minutes ago, that is," he added with a wry smile. "It didn't take much guesswork for him to see the resemblance. I think we won't go back for a couple of hours. I don't want to walk into the firefight he's probably having with Jess even as we speak."

  She bit her lower lip. "Poor Jess."

  "Poor Dallas," he countered. "After the fight with Jessie, he took every damned dangerous assignment he could find, the more dangerous the better. Last year in Africa, Dallas was shot to pieces. They sent him home with wounds that would have killed a lesser man."

  "No wonder he looks so bitter."

  "He's bitter because he loved Jess and though she felt the same, she wasn't willing to hurt Hank by leaving him. But in the end, she still hurt him. He couldn't live with the idea that she was having some other man's child. It destroyed th
eir marriage."

  She grimaced. "What a tragedy, for all of them."

  "Yes."

  She looked toward Stevie, smiling. "He's a great kid," she said. "I'd love him even if he wasn't my first cousin."

  "He's got grit and personality to boot."

  "You wouldn't think so at midnight when you're still trying to get him to sleep."

  He smiled as he studied her. "You love kids, don't you?"

  "Oh, yes," she said fervently. "I love teaching."

  "Don't you want some of your own?" he asked with a quizzical smile.

  She flushed and wouldn't look at him. "Sure. One day."

  "Why not now?"

  "Because I've already got more responsibilities than I can manage. Pregnancy would be a complication I couldn't handle, especially now."

  "You sound as if you're planning to do it all alone."

  She shrugged. "There is such a thing as artificial insemination."

  He turned her toward him, looking very solemn and adult. "How would it feel, carrying the child of a man you didn't even know, having it grow inside your body?"

  She bit her lower lip. She hadn't considered the intimacy of what he was suggesting. She felt, and looked, confused.

  "A baby should be made out of love, the natural way, not in a test tube," he said very softly, searching her shocked eyes. "Well, not unless it's the only way two people can have a child," he added. "But that's an entirely different circumstance."

  Her lips parted on the surge of emotion that made her heart race. "I don't know...that I want to get that close to anyone, ever."

  He seemed even more remote. "Sally, you can't let the past lock you into solitude forever. I frightened you because I wanted to keep you at bay. If I didn't discourage you somehow I was afraid that the temptation might prove too much for me. You were such a baby." He scowled bitterly. "What happened wouldn't have been so devastating if you'd had even a little experience with men. For God's sake, didn't they ever let you date anyone?"

  She shook her head, her teeth clenched tightly together. "My mother was certain that I'd get pregnant or catch some horrible disease. She talked about it all the time. She made boys who came to the house so uncomfortable that they never came back."

  "I didn't know that," he said tautly.

  "Would it have made any difference?" she asked miserably.

  He touched her face with cool, firm fingers. "Yes. I wouldn't have gone nearly as far as I did, if I'd known."

  "You wanted to get rid of me..."

  He put his thumb over her soft mouth. "I wanted you," he whispered huskily. "But a seventeen-year-old isn't mature enough for a love affair. And that would have been impossible in Jacobsville, even if I'd been crazy enough to go all the way with you that day. You were almost thirteen years my junior."

  She was beginning to see things from his point of view. She hadn't tried before. There had been so much resentment, so much bitterness, so much hurt. She looked at him and saw, for the first time, the pain of the memory in his face.

  "I was desperate," she said, speaking softly. "They told me out of the blue that they were divorcing each other. They were selling the house and moving out of town. Dad was going to marry Beverly, this girl he'd met at the college where he taught. Mom couldn't live in the same town with everybody knowing that Dad had thrown her over for someone younger. She married a man she hardly knew shortly afterward, just to save her pride." She stared at his mouth with more hunger than she realized. "I knew that I'd never see you again. I only wanted you to kiss me." She swallowed, averting her eyes. "I must have been crazy."

  "We both were." He cupped her face in his hands and lifted it to his quiet eyes. "For what it's worth, I never meant it to go further than a kiss. A very chaste kiss, at that." His eyes drifted down involuntarily to the soft thrust of her breasts almost touching his shirt. He raised an eyebrow at the obvious points. "That's why it wasn't chaste."

  She didn't understand. "What is?"

  He looked absolutely exasperated. "How can you be that old and know nothing?" he asked. He glanced over her shoulder at Stevie, who was facing the other way and giving the punching bag hell. He took Sally's own finger and drew it across her taut breast. He looked straight into her eyes as he said softly, "That's why."

  She realized that it must have something to do with being aroused, but no one had ever told her blatantly that it was a visible sign of desire. She went scarlet.

  "You greenhorn," he murmured indulgently. "What a babe in arms."

  "I don't read those sort of books," she said haughtily.

  "You should. In fact, I'll buy you a set of them. Maybe a few videos, too," he murmured absently, watching the expressions come and go on her face.

  "You varmint...!"

  He caught her top lip in both of his and ran his tongue lazily under it. She stiffened, but her hands were clinging to him, not pushing.

  "You remember that, don't you, Sally?" he murmured with a smile. "Do you remember what comes next?”

  She jerked back from him, staggering. Her eyes found Stevie, still oblivious to the adults.

  Eb's eyes were blatant on the thrust of her breasts and he was smiling.

  She crossed her arms over her chest and glared up at him. "You just stop that," she gritted. "I'll bet you weren't born knowing everything!"

  He chuckled. "No, I wasn't. But I didn't have a mother to keep my nose clean, either," he said. "My old man was military down to his toenails, and he didn't believe in gentle handling or delicacy. He used women until the day he died." He laughed coldly. "He told me that there was no such thing as a good woman, that they were to be enjoyed and put aside."

  She was appalled. "Didn't he love your mother?"

  "He wanted her, and she wouldn't be with him until they got married," he said simply. "So they got married. She died having me. They were living in a small town outside the military base where he was stationed. He was overseas on assignment and she lived alone, isolated. She went into labor and there were complications. There was nothing that could have been done for her by the time she was found. If a neighbor hadn't come to look in on us, I'd have died with her."

  "It must have been a shock for your father," she said.

  "If it was, it never showed. He left me with a cousin until I was old enough to obey orders, then I went to live with him. I learned a lot from him, but he wasn't a loving man." His eyes narrowed on her soft face. "I followed his example and joined the army. I was lucky enough to get into the Green Berets. Then when I was due for discharge, a man approached me about a top secret assignment and told me what it would pay." He shrugged. "Money is a great temptation for a young man with a domineering father. I said yes and he never spoke to me again. He said that what I was doing was a perversion of the military, and that I wasn't fit to be any officer's son. He disowned me on the spot. I didn't hear from him again. A few years later, I got a letter from his post commander, stating that he'd died in combat. He had a military funeral with full honors."

  The pain of those years was in his lean, hard face. Impulsively she put a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry," she told him quietly. "He must have been the sort of man who only sees one side of any argument."

  He was surprised by her compassion. "Don't you think mercenaries are evil, Miss Purity?" he asked sarcastically.

  Chapter Three

  Sally looked up into pain-laced green eyes and without thinking, she lifted her hand from his arm and raised it toward his hard cheek. But when she realized what she was doing, she drew it back at once.

  "No, I don't think mercenaries are evil," she said quickly, embarrassed by the impulsive gesture that, thankfully, he didn't seem to notice. "There are a lot of countries where atrocities are committed, whose governments don't have the manpower or resources to protect their people. So, someone else gets hired to do it. I don't think it's a bad thing, when there's a legitimate cause."

  He was surprised by her matter-of-fact manner. He'd wondered for years how she might react w
hen she learned about what he did for a living. He'd expected everything from revulsion to shock, especially when he remembered how his former fiancee had reacted to the news. But Sally wasn't squeamish or judgmental.

  He'd seen her hand jerk back and it had wounded him.

  But now, on hearing her opinion of his work, his heart lifted. "I didn't expect you to credit me with noble motives."

  "They are, though, aren't they?" she asked confidently.

  "As a matter of fact, in my case, they are," he replied. "Even in my green days, I never did it just for the money. I had to believe in what I was risking my life for."

  She grinned. "I thought maybe it was like on television," she confessed. "But Jess said it was nothing like fiction."

  He cocked an eyebrow. "Oh, I wouldn't say that," he mused. "Parts of it are."

  "Such as?"

  "We had a guy like 'B.A. Barrabas' in one unit I led," he said. "We really did have to knock him out to get him on a plane. But he quit the group before we got inventive."

  She laughed. "Too bad. You'd have had plenty of stories to tell about him."

  He was quiet for a moment, studying her.

  "Do I have a zit on my nose?" she asked pleasantly.

  He reached out and caught the hand she'd started to lift toward him earlier and kissed its soft palm. "Let's get to work," he said, pulling her along to the mat. "I'll change into my sweats and we'll cover the basics. We won't have a lot of time," he added dryly. "I expect Jess to call very soon with an ultimatum about Dallas."

  Jess and Dallas had squared off, in fact, the minute they heard the truck crank and pull out of the yard.

  Dallas glared at her from his superior height, leaning heavily on his cane. He wished she could see him, because his eyes were full of anger and bitterness.

  "Did you think I wouldn't see that Stevie is the living image of me? My son," he growled at her. "You had my son! And you lied to me about it and wouldn't ask Hank for a divorce!"

  "I couldn't!" she exclaimed. "For heaven's sake, he adored me. He'd never have cheated on me. I couldn't bring myself to tell him that I'd had an affair with his best friend!"