Tall, Dark & Reckless

by Heather MacAllister

  “But it’s not working for me.” BT leaned forward and laced his fingers together, telegraphing that he wasn’t budging.

  Hell. It had been a good run at OMG. He hated to see it end.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Mark saw a movement and knew Travis’s sister and Piper had exchanged a look. They knew what was coming, too.

  “Mark.” BT gazed steadily at him. “This hasn’t been the first time you’ve stepped on governmental toes. I’ve got a budget item called ‘news support services’ that’s nothing but money I use for bribes—excuse me—fines to either get you out of a mess or ensure the local authorities leave you alone. You disappear for days at a time without checking in. You change your travel plans without telling anyone. I think you’re in one country and you pop up in another. You ignore me and, frankly, without somebody riding herd on you, you’re not worth the liability, aggravation and expense.”

  “Dad!” Travis looked genuinely shocked.

  Mark had been worth it before and he’d be worth it again. This was all about Travis’s father showing everybody who was boss. Mark didn’t mind up to a point, but forcing a partner on him was that point. “I work alone.”

  “I’ll take the responsibility, Dad,” Travis offered.

  Sounded like a plan to Mark. He nodded his thanks to Travis.

  BT shook his head. “You’re not part of the news division. You’d have to get up to speed on everything we’re doing and you’re overloaded now.”

  “It seems as though Mark isn’t the only one who needs a partner,” Dancie said.

  “I work alone.” Mark subtly shifted the emphasis.

  “Make me an OMG partner and I can take some of the extra responsibilities from Travis,” Dancie offered. “I could handle Mark.”

  That was the most alarming thing Mark had heard so far.

  Travis slowly shook his head. “Oh, nooooo, you couldn’t.”

  “There’s not going to be any extra work because I’m sending someone with him. Okay, Mark, let’s call it a producer, since you don’t work with a partner,” BT said. “A female, because I don’t want two men getting into a pissing contest. Pardon my French, ladies. But it’s gotta be a woman who can stand up to him.”

  A woman? It kept getting worse. “I work alone.” This time the emphasis wasn’t subtle.

  No one paid any attention to Mark. He wasn’t accustomed to being ignored—at least not as an adult.

  But the twins were now arguing with their father. Travis was going to bat for him, and he appreciated it, but no way was he going to be handicapped by a handler. A woman? He lived pretty rough when he was in the field. And taking a woman to the Middle East would be just insane.

  BT was right about one thing, though. The reason Mark wasn’t involved in a relationship was precisely because he put himself in situations no family man should.

  The Pollards grew louder as the discussion became more heated. Unless BT could be talked out of his producer edict, this was a massive waste of Mark’s time and he had a one o’clock class he needed to prep for.

  He looked across the table. Piper also sat silently while the Pollards hashed things out. She was mad, though, and rightly so.

  Her profile was to him, so Mark took the opportunity to check her out. She wore square glasses with dark frames the way pretty women sometimes did when they wanted to be taken seriously. And she was pretty, in a church picnic kind of way, the sort of girl his grandmother would like. Sweetly pastel and prim. Too girlie for his mom, though. And to be honest, for him, as well. A life with her would mean drinking tea from china cups and taking off his shoes before he walked on the carpet. At least that’s the impression he got. Mark had no personal experience with her type. He smiled to himself. Her type avoided his type.

  She must have sensed him looking at her, because she slowly turned her head and met his stare with one of her own.

  Big brown eyes gazed directly at him from behind the glasses. That was no Sunday-school stare. And now that he thought about it, there hadn’t been any coyness about her the other times they’d studied each other. Mark felt a stirring of interest. There was something more here. Hidden depths. And nobody loved hidden depths more than Mark.

  “Coffee?” she mouthed slowly. Her upper teeth dragged over her bottom lip drawing his attention to its plump pinkness.

  Something else stirred as his interest shifted from intellectual to physical. Had she done that on purpose? If so, then she was Sunday school on the outside and Saturday-night party on the inside. Every man’s fantasy woman.

  He nodded in answer to her coffee question and nudged his mug across the table. Rather than take it to the credenza, Piper reached behind her for the thermal pot. Doing so stretched her top across her chest. Nice.

  Yeah, nice. Remember that. Nice girl. Okay, nice girl with some moves.

  Piper leaned forward to pour the coffee and the V-neck of her top gaped enough for Mark to take in nicely rounded flesh and some lace. The coffee filled his mug in a slow stream that gave him plenty of time to stare down her top and plenty of time for her to be aware of it.

  He might be in a little trouble here. He hadn’t been with a woman in way too long. Between his injury and the off-limits students, he’d had to freeze those urges. Piper Scott was definitely thawing them and at a most inconvenient time.

  He forced his eyes downward a few more inches so they were focused on the coffee mug and not on Piper Scott’s surprisingly deep, lace-outlined cleavage.

  The instant he saw the spout of the coffeepot tilt back, Mark grasped his mug and risked a glance upward, aiming for Piper’s eyes without traveling over her breasts. “Thanks.”

  She smiled in response, and he smiled back because it would be impolite not to.

  But then her smile grew and he knew she’d caught him looking down her top. She’d flashed him deliberately as repayment for their little thing earlier, before the meeting started, when they’d been sizing each other up.

  Nicely played. Grinning, he dipped his head and raised his mug a fraction of an inch in acknowledgement. And then their gazes connected in one of those “hey, there could be something here” moments. Finding out could be fun. But Mark’s style was intense and temporary, no muss, and no fuss when his work ended the relationship.

  Too bad Piper Scott wasn’t the type. Too bad one of the more attractive things about her was that she knew it.

  The connection lasted long enough for both of them to realize nothing was going to happen between them and feel a twinge of regret—well, Mark sure did.

  BT interrupted the moment by roaring, “Enough!”

  Piper flinched and set the coffeepot down.

  “You—” BT pointed at Mark. “I don’t care what you call her, but you’re taking somebody on assignment with you from now on. And you will consult with that somebody and if you don’t, I’ll pull your press credentials. And you—” he pointed to Piper. “If you and Dancie want OMG’s backing for your project, then show me this compatibility theory of yours works. Find Mark somebody he can get along with and who can stand up to him. That last part is very important.”

  “Dad, get serious!” Travis nearly came out of his chair. “She’s a dating columnist! We’re talking about hiring somebody who’s going to be working with a world-class journalist, not finding Mark a date to the prom!” He didn’t bother to hide his scorn, which Mark could have told him was a mistake.

  Sure enough, the women were eyeing Travis with narrow-eyed gazes. “The way it works is that you only send me qualified candidates,” Piper said in clipped tones. “I’ll select the most compatible ones from among those.”

  Not going to happen. Mark shook his head, but Piper didn’t notice. Or if she did, she ignored him.

  “And when am I supposed to find the time to do that?” Travis asked. “Since we’re not going to the Super Bowl—” he sent a resentful glance toward his father “—I have to redo everything. And that includes contacting the advertisers—”

  �
��I can help you out, Travis,” Dancie offered sweetly.

  Mark had heard enough. “Don’t bother,” he said. “For the last time, I. Work. Alone.”

  “Not if you’re working at OMG,” BT told him.

  Which is pretty much how Mark had expected this to play out. BT should be the one interviewing employees for the news division. He hadn’t said anything about doing so because he knew it wasn’t going to happen.

  “Fair enough.” Mark pushed back from the table. “I’ll always be grateful for the opportunities OMG gave me.”

  “Hang on a minute, Mark.” Panic sounded in Travis’s voice.

  Mark stood, his leg screaming in protest. “Travis, it’s time for me to move on.” Past time for a pain pill, too. “Bye, all.”

  Travis swiveled his chair away from the table. “Mark, wait.”

  Mark pushed open the door. “I’ll call you later.” He had to get off his leg. Limping badly, he started across the foyer, knowing there was a real possibility he might not make it to his car.

  “I’ve got a client meeting,” he heard behind him. “So I’m going to leave now, too.”

  In an instant, Piper was beside him. “Lean on me,” she murmured beneath her breath. She held out her arm in a way that hid it from those in the conference room behind them.

  He wasn’t about to argue. Bracing himself against her took some of the weight off his leg and relieved the pain.

  “It stiffened up in the meeting, didn’t it?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” he grunted. “Thanks.”

  “Can you walk to the front door?”

  Mark gave a tight nod.

  “Whenever you’re ready.”

  He started walking and she matched her steps to his, bless her, and as soon as they were out of sight, she insisted he lean on her fully.

  Mark was relieved that she didn’t try to make conversation. If it hadn’t been for his damned leg, he would have appreciated her closeness more.

  As they negotiated a couple of steps, he inhaled sharply and smelled her perfume. It was a flowery, sweet, girlie scent he wouldn’t have associated with her, especially in a business situation. But now that she was pressed up against him, he noticed the jewelry and the hair and the skirt and especially the sandals with the high heels. She looked as though she was going out on a date. Or entering a beauty pageant.

  Or dressing to appeal to BT, clever girl.

  So she wasn’t necessarily the church picnic type.

  “Where are you parked?” she asked as he wondered about her normal style.

  “Faculty lot near the Burns building.”

  “Where’s your class?”

  “Burns building.”

  “And where are your pain meds?”

  He stopped and looked down at her, but instead was visualizing the orange plastic container in his gym bag.

  Piper met his gaze. “I’m guessing you either didn’t fill the prescription because you don’t like the idea, or you left them at home or some other inconvenient place.”

  She had him pegged. “They’re in my locker at the physical therapy center.” Which was several miles away. He could have used the campus facilities for his rehab, but didn’t want an audience when he worked out.

  “Okay, then we will get you to the Burns building for your class and you will give me the key to your locker and I will get the meds.” She wasn’t asking; she was telling, step by no-nonsense step.

  Mark didn’t like being told what to do and how to do it even if he agreed. “You should go back to the meeting.”

  She glanced behind her. “It’s all over but the shouting. Literally. Now give me your key and I’ll drive to the PT center and get your pain medication.”

  Need and pride warred within him.

  Her expression never changed and she spoke in the same nursery-school teacher tone. “You wouldn’t need them if it wasn’t for me. If you don’t give me the chance to make it right, I’ll feel awful.”

  “You are so lying.” He shook his head, grinning down at her. “You didn’t even try to sell that.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She batted her eyes.

  “Your blatant attempt to let me save face. Thanks, anyway.” He looked at her a moment longer, and then grimaced. “I hurt. Help me to the Burns building, and then I’m taking you up on your offer to get my pills. When you get back, I don’t care if class has started or not. Walk right on up and hand them to me. I’ll make sure I have a bottle of water.”

  4

  Step four: Time the end of your first encounter to leave him intrigued.

  WITH AUSTIN TRAFFIC being what it was and men’s locker rooms being what they were, Piper’s drive to the PT center to retrieve Mark’s pain pills took longer than she’d hoped.

  But because it took longer, she had a chance to think about this morning. And to think about him.

  Piper hadn’t quite figured Mark out. Talk about refreshing. She still identified him as a double alpha, with exceptions. When a man racked up several exceptions, it was time to consider placing him in a different category. But Mark didn’t fit in any other category. He might be a whole new category. Wouldn’t that be a kick?

  Then again, he could be faking it. While people could mask their true personality, Piper usually sensed when they were doing so. Also, they only masked when they had to or when they were being observed. Mark was effortlessly alpha. And yet…

  He’d called her on lying to him. She had been. And he knew why—and he’d thanked her. That was cool of him. And unexpected. He’d accepted her help without protesting and admitted that he hurt.

  An alpha revealing vulnerability? Pain was obviously a factor, but he seemed more aware of other people than his type usually was.

  Take the meeting. Yeah, two hours of her life she’d never get back. But during the excruciating time when BT was scolding him, he just took it. Someone else might have thought Mark was chastened, but Piper knew he didn’t consider it worth the effort to push back. BT needed to vent and Mark’s ego was fine with letting him do so.

  She could find him a compatible partner, if he wanted her to. Filling a vacancy in an established team or group was something she’d done before. Mark was a team of one, but the principles were the same. It was too bad he wouldn’t consider the proposition. She would have liked to prove her theories.

  Oh, admit it. You just want an opportunity to spend more time with him. And it is not just because you have something to prove. Although there was that.

  BT dismissing her work as fluff wasn’t surprising, but dismissing it without reading Dancie’s proposal? That was a mistake made by a man who didn’t make those kinds of mistakes. Delivering an ultimatum to Mark was another. Men like Mark never responded to ultimatums the way those making them wanted or expected. Any time it was “my way or the highway,” they’d take the highway every time.

  As Piper circled the Burns building in hopes of finding a parking spot—very unlikely without a faculty tag—she remembered teasing Mark with the coffeepot. Totally inappropriate. But fun. When was the last time she’d had that kind of fun? When was the last time she’d been out with a man on a purely social basis? Or wanted to be? Lately, Piper found men boringly predictable. Within a minute, she could place them into one of her infamous grid squares and know exactly what they were going to say and do.

  But not Mark.

  Her stomach did a little flip. Ooh, this wasn’t good. He could really get to her if she let him. Not that she’d let him. Or that he’d try.

  There had been a moment, several seconds when they’d smiled at each other and Piper, lost in the unexpectedness of it all, considered some what-ifs. Like, what if he wasn’t returning to his vagabond ways? And what if she ignored the fact that he was precisely the wrong type for her? And what if she wasn’t misinterpreting those few seconds and he actually was interested in her? And what if she might not be making the same mistake she’d seen her mother make over and over by getting involved with him? />
  Yeah. Those what-ifs.

  Piper circled the building twice before giving up and driving toward the parking garage several blocks away.

  Getting involved with Mark—even assuming it was an option—would not end well. And it would end. She even knew when. So the best strategy for her right now was to park her car, walk several blocks to the building and interrupt his class, which would definitely have started by the time she got there. Then she’d go see Dancie and pick up the pieces. Although, now that she thought about it, she wasn’t sure there would be any pieces to pick up. Dancie seemed to be handling her father’s refusal awfully well.

  Piper found a spot on the next-to-the-top level of the garage, but at least she found a spot. The Burns building was a fifteen-minute jog away. Changing into a pair of flat sandals she kept in the car for situations like this, she took the elevator to the street level and looked for a campus shuttle stop.

  Although she caught a shuttle, she didn’t gain a whole lot of time. It was 1:20 when she walked through the door of the Burns building. Mark would be well into his class.

  Ethics in Foreign Journalism was held in the largest lecture hall and when Piper peeked in the back, she saw it was a full house. Easily two hundred and fifty to three hundred students sat in the tiers. And down below, sitting on a stool on the stage in front of a projection screen, was Mark. He’d ditched the leather jacket and wore a pale blue, button-down shirt with the cuffs rolled back. There was a small table next to him. Even all the way from the back, Piper could see the bottle of water.

  Seriously? He wanted her to waltz across a stage and give him drugs in front of his students? No way. She’d find a side entrance, get his attention and signal him to come to her.

  That’s right, she thought as she made her way around the building, make a man with a bum leg limp off the stage because you feel weird about walking out there in front of all those people and giving him his pills. Obviously, she wasn’t going to do that. And after she gave him his pills, then what? Was he just going to stop, pop some pain meds in front of his class and go on lecturing? He’d have to tell them what the medication was for. Had he considered that?