Man of the Hour

by Diana Palmer

  His face hardened. “That was what I wanted to spare you.”

  “You wanted to spare me the fear?” Her green eyes wandered over his broad face. “And you thought you had. Of course, I stopped loving you the minute you walked away from me, right?”

  He leaned back heavily against the wall. “Right,” he said doggedly. “You hated me when I left.”

  She smiled sadly. “I thought I did,” she agreed. “But it wasn’t that easy to put you in the past, Lang. It took a long time. There were so many memories. Almost a lifetime of them.” She turned away. “I guess it’s different for men. It’s only physical with you.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “It’s true. Men think with their glands, women with their hearts.”

  “That’s stereotyping,” he accused. “Men feel things as deeply as women do.”

  “You wanted me, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything about it,” she said. “If you’d loved me enough, you couldn’t have walked away.”

  “You let me walk away,” he said shortly. “You could have opened that damned letter I sent you!”

  “Did it say something besides goodbye?” she asked, her voice harsh. “I thought it was another accusation, that you figured you hadn’t said enough about my lack of character and morals.”

  He stuck his hands into his pockets. “I knew about Chad by then. I’d had time to get my priorities straight.”

  “I didn’t know that,” she reminded him. “All I knew was that when you left, you held me in contempt and never wanted to see me again. You said so—explicitly.”

  His eyes narrowed with painful memory. “I’d never had to handle jealousy before,” he said. “It was new to me. Besides that, I felt betrayed. Chad was my best friend.”

  “Oh, why rehash it?” she muttered, turning away. “You wanted a way out and he gave you one. That’s it in a nutshell. I hope you enjoyed your stint with the government, Lang. What I can’t understand is why you gave it up and came back.”

  His dark eyes slid over her hungrily. “Can’t you?”

  She ignored the caress in his voice. “I’m tired,” she said over her shoulder. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “That you will.” He opened the door. “And you’re riding in with me, whether you want to or not.” He closed the door on her openmouthed expression.

  She picked up a vase and almost—almost—flung it at the closed door. But it would only mean a cleanup that she was too tired to do. Arguing with Lang wasn’t going to change anything, and she didn’t have enough nerve left to dwell on a dead past.

  She started past her answering machine and noticed that it was blinking. She didn’t want to listen to the messages, because one of them was probably Erikson. But her job sometimes infringed on her free time, because clients often called at night when they had more time to talk. She couldn’t afford to ignore the calls.

  Grimacing, she pushed the Replay button.

  The first message was from Mack, reminding her that he was bringing in a new client for her to work with the next morning and to be on time. The second was a wrong number.

  The third, as she’d feared, was Erikson. “One night, your bodyguard won’t be close by, and I’ll get you.” He purred. “What are you going to do then, Your Highness?”

  The line went dead. She took out the tape and replaced it with another one. That nasty little remark might come in handy in court if Erikson made a wrong step. She slipped it into a drawer and went to bed, to toss and turn all night.

  When Lang rang her doorbell the next morning, she was dressed in a neat lavender dress with a patterned scarf. He was wearing a gray sport coat with tan slacks and a red-and-white striped shirt. He looked very nice, but she pretended not to notice.

  “Here,” she said, handing him the tape from her answering machine. She told him what it was.

  He slipped it into his pocket with cold eyes. “He’ll overstep one day soon,” he promised her. “And when he does, I’ll be right there waiting.”

  “He’s sick, isn’t he?” she asked.

  “Sick, or just plain damned mean,” he replied. He waited while she locked her door and escorted her out to his car in the parking lot.

  “Wait a minute,” he said, holding her back before she could open the door.

  He went around and did a quick check of the car, even under the hood. Satisfied, he opened the door and helped her inside.

  “What was that all about? You don’t think he’d go so far as to blow up your car?” she asked.

  He shrugged as he pulled out into traffic. “Caution is worth its weight in gold sometimes, and you never know which way a man like that is going to jump.”

  “I see.”

  He glanced at her with a smile. “Don’t look so worried. I can defuse a bomb.”

  “Can you really?”

  He nodded. “If it’s a simple one. There was this case in Europe, when we were…” He hesitated. “Well, that’s classified. But I had to defuse a bomb, just the same.”

  “Is that something they taught you?” she asked, curious.

  He chuckled. “No. It’s something I learned the hard way.”

  Her eyes were saucer-big. “The hard way?”

  “Sure, by getting blown up.” He glanced at her expression amusedly. “Kirry, it was a joke. I’m kidding!”

  She made a futile gesture with her hands. “I never could tell when you were,” she said, shaking her head. “I guess I’m hopelessly naive,” she muttered, glaring down at the purse in her lap. “At least I can fall down pretty good, though,” she added brightly.

  “Sure you can. And when I get you through the basics of self-defense, you’ll be a holy terror on the street. Grown men will run from you screaming,” he promised. “I can’t imagine why you haven’t done that before. Every woman should know how to take care of herself. They should teach it in school.”

  “They have enough to do in school without that.”

  “No kidding, it could be part of gym class in high school, physical education. Mothers could stop worrying so much about their girls if they knew how to foil an attacker.” He glanced at her. “That includes an overamorous date.”

  “I have heard of date rape, thanks,” she returned.

  He chuckled. “In our case, I was the one with all the worries. You were one eager woman.”

  “Go ahead, rub it in,” she grumbled, shifting away from him.

  “How can I help it? You were beautiful, and you wanted me. You could have had anybody.”

  “Not quite, or you’d never have gotten away,” she said, tongue in cheek. It was getting easier to handle the old rejection, now that she and Lang were friends again.

  “Think so?” He parked the car just outside her office building, glancing around. “No Erikson,” he said, nodding. “Good. Maybe he’s terrified and gave it up.”

  “Right,” she said dryly.

  “I could get testimonials from people I’ve protected who’ll tell you I’m terrifying,” he informed her haughtily. “This last guy, in fact, said that it was a miracle we still had a country with people like me guarding it.”

  She laughed. “The man whose bathroom you bugged?” she asked.

  “They said to watch him all the time,” he replied. “So I watched him. All the time.”

  She just shook her head. Then she remembered that he was watching her all the time, too. Her eyes spoke for her.

  “Not in the bathroom,” he said. “Not when the door is opened or closed. Scout’s honor.”

  “You were never a scout,” she countered.

  “I was until I started my first fire.” He sighed, remembering. “Unfortunately it was in the scoutmaster’s living room, on his carpet. Never could get him to understand how that accident happened. It was Bob’s fault, anyway,” he added darkly. “Bob was the one who gave me the stuff to do it with and showed me how.”

  “Did Bob like the scoutmaster?”

  “Come to think of it, he didn�
�t.”

  She chuckled. “I see.”

  They got out of the car and Lang’s hand slid into hers as they walked toward the building. He felt her jerk and his fingers contracted. He stopped and looked down at her.

  “Too good to hold hands with the hired help, are we?” he murmured dryly.

  She felt his big fingers caressing hers and his thumb found its way to her soft palm. It was starting all over again, the magic she’d felt when he came close.

  “No,” she answered softly, looking straight up into his eyes. “But I don’t want to relive the past.”

  “Not even with a different ending?” he asked softly. “A happy ending this time?”

  Her heart skipped. It was just a game, she told herself. Lang was playing and she was letting herself take him seriously.

  She began to laugh and tugged at her hand. “Let me go, you tease,” she murmured.

  He looked stunned. “Kirry, it’s not…”

  The sudden roar of a car engine caught his attention. He jerked Kirry onto the curb just as an old, dark-colored sports car swept by on the road.

  “Lunatic,” Lang said angrily, glaring after the car. If it had been a blue sedan, he’d have gone right after it.

  “Careless drivers are everywhere,” she said, brushing down her skirt. “I’m all right. He missed me by a mile.”

  “Not quite.” He was pale. His eyes went over her like hands. “That was too close.”

  “At least it wasn’t our friend Erikson,” she said.

  Lang nodded, but he wasn’t convinced. He took her arm and escorted her into the building.

  Later, he took out his laptop and plugged in with a secret access code. He called up Erikson’s name and did some crosschecking. He closed the terminal a few minutes later feeling angry and sick. Erikson had two vehicles. One was an old black sports car.

  Kirry had a long day. Part of it was taken up with a staff meeting and the rest would have dragged on endlessly, because she was caught up with all her current projects. Mack had promised her a new client first thing this morning, but the client had a conflict in her schedule, so they’d postponed it until the next day.

  Betty stopped by her office that afternoon. “How’s the new client?” she asked with a grin.

  “I don’t know. She didn’t show. Mack said we’d try again tomorrow morning,” she replied.

  “I was going to suggest that we go out to a movie, but I guess that’s not a good idea, with Mr. Nasty on the prowl.”

  “Lang would have a screaming fit,” she agreed.

  “He’s good-looking,” Betty ventured. “And there’s no competition there.”

  “None that I can see,” Kirry replied. “In the old days, it was a different story. When Lang and I started going together, he’d just broken up with his current heartthrob. She was a dish, too, a model. Lorna McLane.”

  Betty frowned. “Lorna McLane?”

  Kirry stared at her. “What do you know that I don’t know, Betty?”

  “The name of the client who didn’t show up this morning. It’s Lorna McLane.”

  Kirry sat down. “What does she want with us?”

  “She’s worked her way up the ladder to an executive position at a local model agency that specializes in south Texas location work. Mack says that she wants us to coordinate a fashion show for her, publicity and all.”

  “Well, we can’t afford to turn down something of that magnitude,” Kirry said. “Besides, she and Lang were all washed-up before he and I even started dating. Not that it would matter anymore,” she added quickly when she noticed Betty watching her. “Lang and I are just friends now. He’s our security chief. That’s all.”

  Betty studied her ringless left hand. “Lorna and Mrs. Lancaster are good friends, did you know?”

  Kirry’s heart stopped. “Good enough that Mrs. Lancaster might have told her about Lang’s new job?”

  The other woman nodded. “In fact, good enough friends that she told Lang about the job and put in a good word for him with her friend, Mrs. Lancaster.”

  So that was how he’d managed to get the job. “Nobody ever tells me anything,” Kirry muttered darkly, hating the world and fate for playing such a monumental joke on her.

  “I’m sure everybody meant to. Listen, just because Lang works here, it doesn’t mean that Lorna will be hanging on his sleeve all the time. You can lead a horse to water…”

  “Spare me.” Kirry sighed and leaned back in her chair. She’d entertained false hopes and now they were being dashed. She felt depressed. Erikson was going to destroy her peace of mind, and here was Lorna to aid and abet him. She remembered the woman all too well; she was tall and slender with very dark eyes and hair. She was beautiful. If she still looked as she had when Lang left her, it wasn’t beyond the realm of reason that Lang might be tempted to try his luck again. After all, there was nothing to stop him. Lorna was presumably unmarried, and so was Lang. And Kirry…well, she was right off the menu. She wasn’t bad looking, but she couldn’t compete with a top model. And while Kirry was old-fashioned, Lorna had never been saddled with cautious habits.

  “You can’t quit,” Betty told her, reading her expression. “For one thing, I’d have nobody to go out to lunch with.”

  “I won’t promise not to,” she said stubbornly. She glared out the window. “Did you ever have one of those spells where everything seemed to go wrong in the space of a week?” she asked.

  Betty let out a long breath. “I’m going to get you a cup of coffee,” she said, turning around. “It isn’t on my job description, but I think I know my way around a coffeepot.”

  “Betty, why did Lorna pick this agency when there are several in San Antonio? Was it because of Lang, do you think?”

  “If I were a betting woman, that would be first on my list,” the other woman had to admit. “Still carrying a torch for Lang?”

  Kirry glared at her. “I am not. I don’t even like Lang.”

  “And pigs fly,” Betty said under her breath as she went out and closed the door behind her.

  Lang picked Kirry up late that afternoon, his eyes cautious and wary as he looked around the parking lot.

  “I haven’t seen a blue sedan all day,” Kirry told him as they drove out of the parking lot.

  “Or an old black sports car?” he asked.

  She frowned. “There was a black car.” His expression gave him away. He looked resigned. “Don’t tell me,” she said sardonically. “Erickson has two cars, and one of them is black.”

  “Bingo.”

  “This just hasn’t been my day.”

  “Why?”

  She looked at him and felt her life going into eclipse. It would be the old story, all over again, Lang walking away from her.

  “Did you know that we’re getting a new client at the agency?” she asked instead.

  “If that expression is anything to go by, it must be someone I know. Do we play twenty questions, or do you just want to spit it out?”

  “Lorna McLane is going to let us promote her new modeling extravaganza.”

  He didn’t look at her. She knew. He was sure of it. “Well, good for her.”

  Kirry didn’t move a muscle. She went right on staring through the windshield as if she’d taken root in the seat. “You knew she was here.”

  He shrugged. “Yes, I knew. How do you think I got this job?” he asked. “She phoned me in D.C., said that it was on offer and suggested that I apply. You might remember that Lorna and I were an item before you and I started going together,” he reminded her gently. “But it was never that serious. Then,” he added to madden her.

  She felt her heart drop. “Have you seen her since you’ve been back?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

  He speared a glance toward her, finding her brooding expression enlightening. “We had lunch today, in fact,” he admitted, smiling at the venomous look in Kirry’s face at the remark. “She’s a little older, but still a knockout. Pretty as a picture, in fact.”

>   Kirry clutched her bag and stared out the side window.

  He felt ten feet tall. There was hope. She did still care! “Don’t forget. We’re having another lesson tonight.”

  “But I thought we were doing that tomorrow night,” she asked abruptly.

  “It was. Erikson’s making me nervous,” he said. “I think a good workout might benefit us both. How about you?”

  She couldn’t disagree. It would take her mind off at least one of her problems.

  “You and Lorna almost got married once, didn’t you?” she asked.

  “She wanted to be a model and I wanted to be a government agent,” he said easily, pulling up to the apartment building they shared. “She made some demands and I made some, then we both decided that a parting of the ways was the best idea.” He turned off the engine and looked at her, his dark eyes somber. “I wanted a career more than I wanted anything at that time. I’m not really sorry, in a way. I’ve done a lot of exciting things, Kirry. I’ve grown up.”

  “It shows,” she replied. There were lines in his face that had never been there in the old days. He had a new maturity, along with the clowning personality. “But I liked you just the way you were.”

  “I liked you,” he returned, smiling. “You used to be a lot more spirited and full of fun. You’ve gone quiet on me, Kirry.”

  “I have a lot of responsibility with this new job,” she said evasively. “And Erikson’s been on my mind.” She didn’t add that it was killing her to be around Lang all the time, with the anguish of the past between them.

  “He’s been on my mind as well. But he’ll make a slip, I promise you, and when he does, I’ll be standing right next to him.”

  “Or I will,” she said darkly. “Are we ever going to get to do anything besides fall on a mat?” she added plaintively. “I want to learn how to do something!”

  “What did you have in mind?” he asked in a deliberately seductive voice, and leaned toward her with mock menace.