by Diana Palmer
She hugged that thought to her bosom and rushed inside to dress, casting a rueful glance at the blanket still on the lawn where they'd made love for the first time. She went and grabbed up the blanket, his towel and her bikini, and took them inside.
The flight test was already under way when she got to the plant. They'd brought the Faber jet here to the main administrative offices for its second test flight, and the grandstand was full of visiting dignitaries. Somewhere in that gathering, she knew, was the evasive Mr. MacFaber himself. She wondered if he was holding his breath while the plane was put through its paces, and she held her own breath from her vantage point just outside her office.
If anything went wrong this time, the world would end for some of the employees. She could imagine MacFaber with a battle-ax, slamming down the halls on both sides and splitting heads. She didn't see Mr. Blake, her own boss, and she wondered where he was. Perhaps he was down with the visiting dignitaries.
"How's it going?" Charlene asked breathlessly, standing just beside her.
"So far, so good." Maureen crossed her fingers.
"You look all springlike and breezy today." Charlene grinned, approving the green dress and long, loose hairdo. "You're absolutely radiant."
Maureen smiled. "I'm head over heels in love with one of the mechanics," she confessed. "We're going to get married!"
"One of the mechanics?"
"He's a very nice man and I don't mind living on hamburgers and chips," she assured her friend.
"Is that how I sounded? I didn't mean to." Charlene smiled sweetly. "It's just that one of the mechanics is out on his ear and Mr. Blake's in a lot of trouble. MacFaber was in his office this morning and he called Mr. Blake in. I wasn't eavesdropping, you know, but the office door was open a crack"
"Well, tell me!"
"Mr. Blake's brother-in-law took it on himself to ignore a design change. He worked in the plant where the Faber jet was assembled." She grimaced. "Mr. Blake finally had to tell MacFaber before something terrible happened. He's been demoted and his brother-in-law has been fired."
"My gosh," Maureen gasped with mingled sorrow for Mr. Blake and relief that Jake wasn't responsible for the problem. "No wonder Mr. Blake looked so worried." That brought to mind her own situation. "Well, who am I working for now?" she asked. "Have I still got a job?"
"Sure. But you won't know who you're working for until MacFaber hires somebody to replace Mr. Blake."
"Have you actually seen MacFaber?" she teased. "I mean, he isn't a figment or anything?"
"Have I seen him!" Charlene looked upward and made a whistling sound. "My gosh, if I weren't an engaged woman! "
"But you said he was old and ugly." Maureen frowned.
"The last time I saw him, he looked that way. But he's slimmed down and tanned, and at least one of the girls in the typing pool swooned when he walked by. God help the female employees, and I'll bet the lady in South America is crying her eyes out!"
"He sounds fascinating," Maureen said, grinning.
"He is fascinating, except for his temper," the other girl said ruefully. "You can hear him two offices away when he loses it, and he doesn't mind who listens. He's got quite a vocabulary when he gets started."
"It's his corporation," Maureen pointed out. "I guess he was pretty upset about what happened to the Faber jet."
"He wasn't just upset at Mr. Blake's brother-in-law," Charlene murmured. "He was furious at the whole quality-control unit, the design unit, the assembly plant, and assorted other people."
Maureen's eyebrows rose. "Such as?"
"Such as the people who mow the lawn here, the painters who did his office, the carpet layers, two total strangers who happened to walk past his office, and the president."
"My goodness. Were they all responsible for his jet's problems?"
"To hear him tell it, they were. Look!"
She pointed skyward, where the small private-jet prototype was moving like silver grace, sleek and smart and completely in the control of its expert pilot.
"Well, well" Maureen sighed "I do believe we have a winner."
"It looks that way," Charlene said, smiling her relief. "Thank God. Maybe this will calm the old man down."
"Is he old?"
"Oh, late thirties, I guess."
"Did you see the detective?" Maureen asked suddenly.
"Yes, indeed, I did." She sighed. "Talk about being overwhelmed with handsome men. He's tall and dark and very, very sexy. I got goose bumps when he spoke to me. Of course, I am an engaged woman," she added seriously.
"But you can still look," Maureen said, smiling.
"That's exactly right. Why do you want to know what the private detective looks like?"
Maureen didn't say. She couldn't very well tell Charlene that she thought she was going to marry him. It wasn't a certain thing yet that Jake was the undercover detective, but she had definite suspicions about it. She smiled to herself as she shook her head at Charlene's question and turned her eyes skyward. It would be exciting, being the wife of a detective. She might even get to help him on a case now and then. The thought brightened her whole day.
Charlene left just after the jet was beginning its descent. Maureen watched the silver bird land and sighed over its grace and beauty. Thank God it had worked this time.
She went back inside, hoping that her job wasn't going to be on the line now that Mr. Blake had been demoted. She had a sudden terrifying thought that Mr. MacFaber might blame her, too. He might think Blake had confided in her and feel that she was in the wrong for not contacting someone about it.
There was little for her to do in her office. Jake had told her to meet him in MacFaber's office, but she hesitated. Everyone would be out at the field with the dignitaries, congratulating each other on the flight. Wouldn't Jake be with MacFaber?
She tidied up, her heart shaking her. After last night, she had a few qualms about being able to look Jake in the eye without blushing. But she was, she reminded herself, twenty-five years old this week, and a capable woman. Then she wondered how she was going to explain her presence in MacFaber's office. Surely if MacFaber came in, she could tell him she was waiting for his detective. He wouldn't eat her, after all.
After freshening her makeup, she ran a brush through her long, loose hair and started out of the office just as the phone rang.
She cursed the interruption, because it was a question about some specs that she had to pull out of the computer. It took a long time and she was flustered and nervous and late when she finished and took the computer off-line.
She rushed out the door before anyone else could stop her, down the long hall that led to MacFaber's office. Some of the dignitaries were coming along now, looking pleased and in great spirits. One of the visitors was tall and very good-looking. He glanced at Maureen and inclined his head, but without showing any particular interest.
She glared at his back. He might have noticed that she was sexy and beautiful, she told herself. Jake thought so. Then she thought of Jake as he'd been the day before and blushed with her memories. Even if she died right now, it would be worth it. She felt whole for the first time in her life.
She wondered if Jake felt the same way. He must, because he wanted to marry her and have children with her. Her mind clouded with delightful daydreams. They could live in his apartment and commute to work together. They could go to movies and he could watch her work in the garden patch. On the weekends they could go for long drives and watch movies and play with Bagwell. And when the children came along, Jake would be such a wonderful father. He'd been alone for a long time, and she thought that his parents had probably not wanted him. He was bitter about some of his childhood. She couldn't blame him. At the one time in his life when he'd needed his family, they'd turned their backs on him. She couldn't imagine her own parents doing that. No matter what she'd done, they'd have forgiven her and loved her all the same. She was sorry that Jake wouldn't get to meet them. They'd have liked him. And vice versa.
> She knocked on the door of MacFaber's office, to hear Charlene call, "Come in!"
She walked in, looking sheepish at Charlene's raised eyebrows. "I'm supposed to meet him here," she whispered, glancing at the closed door to Charlene's boss's office.
"Him?"
"My fiancé," she reminded the other girl. "He said to meet him in Mr. MacFaber's office after the test flight."
"Oh." Charlene still looked puzzled. "Are you sure?"
Maureen moved closer to the desk, feeling nervous. "Is the detective with him?" she asked hesitantly.
Charlene grinned. "Yes. At least he was when I left. I had to run out for a minute. So that's your big secret. The detective, huh?"
"He was a very good spy," Maureen assured her, her eyes twinkling behind the lenses of her glasses. "And a wonderful person. You can come to the wedding. It's going to be on Monday. And we're going to have a big family and live happily ever after!"
"Sounds like a fairy tale," Charlene said, smiling. "I know just how you feel," she added. "It was that way for me the first few days I was engaged. I never thought it would happen. Just a second."
She touched the intercom button. "Mr. MacFaber? There's a young woman here to see the detective. She said he told her to meet him here."
"Send her in."
The voice was deep and muffled. Maureen took a deep breath and crossed her fingers as she glanced at Charlene.
"He doesn't bite," Charlene promised her. She smiled reassuringly. "You'll like him. Now go in there and get your man. Courage, girl!"
"I don't have much of that, but I'll try. Wish me luck."
"Of course I do."
Maureen reached out for the doorknob and slowly turned it, walking hesitantly into the big, plush office of Joseph MacFaber. It was like entering another world. Everything inside spoke of wealth and position. From the polished oak desk and deep leather chairs to the thick pile carpet and the beige-and-brown color scheme that had a decorator's touch.
On the desk were art objects from around the world and a neat stack of papers. Behind it was a huge leather desk chair, facing the broad windows that overlooked the test field. She couldn't see the man sitting in it.
"I, uh, I'm sorry, but I was told to meet Jake Edwards here, Mr. MacFaber," she said slowly, using the respectful tone she automatically assumed for company officials. "I hope you don't mind. Charlene said that he was in here?" She looked around nervously, but she didn't see the other man. "I think you probably know him by another name. He's your detectiveI believe?"
It was harder than he'd realized. He stared out the window, hearing her tone change, her nervousness increase. She didn't even sound like the woman he knew. It was as if his position had lifted him out of her reach, made him inaccessible. He grimaced at the difference in her tone, her manner;
"Mr. MacFaber?" she asked again, more nervous than ever, because he wouldn't acknowledge her presence.
"Yes," came a weary, familiar voice from the chair. "I'm MacFaber."
And he whirled the chair around.
Eight
» ^ «
Maureen felt the blood drain from her face. She must be dreaming, she decided. The man in the big chair looked like Jake Edwards, but he was wearing a very expensive blue pinstriped suit and a white silk shirt with a silk floral tie. He looked full of authority and bristling with money.
"I thought it might come as a shock," he acknowledged quietly, and he didn't smile. "But we can deal with it."
"Dealwith it?"
He took a cigarette from a metal case and lit it with a gold lighter. "Sit down."
She did, because her legs were threatening rebellion. Her heart shook her with its beat. Her eyes were wide, shocked, wounded.
"You can't be him," she whispered.
"Why not?" He shrugged. "Somebody was trying to sabotage my damned airplane. I thought at first you might know something about it, so I staked you out and pursued you." He took a draw from the cigarette. "But it soon became apparent that you weren't the type to get involved in something that dishonest."
"Then why did you keep seeing me?" she asked. Her world was falling apart and she wanted to scream. She'd given herself to a man who had women like chocolate candies, and her dreams for the future were in ashes. This man wouldn't want a woman like her in a million years. He'd choose a wealthy woman with social position, someone who could function in his world. He wouldn't want a plain nobody of a secretary, even if she had gone crazy and slept with him. And why would he worry about precautions, either, when he could afford a dozen abortionsnot that she'd have one.
"You grew on me," he said quietly. "I enjoyed being around you. You gave me lessons in honesty and pride and compassion. I don't think anyone else in my life ever accepted me for what I was instead of what I had, until you did."
"I didn't know who you were," she said with a shaky smile. "You might have told me."
"I wanted to. I couldn't take the risk. You might have let something slip to Blake before I could close in on his in-law."
She lifted her chin. "You didn't trust me."
"Baby, I don't trust anybody, as a rule," he said with a twist of his lips. "Reform school would do that to most thirteen-year-old boys. You came in on my blind side."
She closed her eyes to shut out the pain. "I hope I was worth the time you invested in me, Mr. MacFaber."
"I'm not Mr. MacFaber."
"You aren't Jake Edwards, either!"
"My name is Joseph," he said. "Jake is a nickname the one friend I have in the world uses. Edwards was my mother's maiden name."
She couldn't cry. She didn't dare cry.
He got up from the chair and came around the desk to perch himself on its very edge and watch her, the smoking cigarette in his hand. "As for being worth my time," he said in a voice like cold steel, "that sounds cheap and I don't like it. I never used you, or meant to. I still have every intention of marrying you."
Her lips fell open as she looked up at him. "You can't possibly be serious," she whispered. "My gosh, you're!"
"I'm a man," he said quietly, his dark eyes holding hers. "I'm alone and I don't like it. You're alone yourself. Why shouldn't we marry?"
"Because you don't love me!"
"Don't I?" he mused. "Can you think of another reason why I'd seduce a virgin?"
She colored and averted her eyes. "That was a mistake," she said huskily. "I know your conscience is probably bothering you, but I don't blame you. And if there'sI mean, if"
"If you become pregnant?" He let out a cloud of smoke, his broad dark face growing harder by the minute. "What did you have in mind doing?"
She swallowed and closed her eyes. "I don't know. But you don't have to marry me just because I might be pregnant."
"I seem to remember doing my best to make you that way. Several times," he murmured dryly.
She jumped to her feet, only to be caught by the wrist and jerked against him.
"I'll get the license this afternoon and make an appointment with my personal physician for the blood tests in the morning," he said curtly. "Monday, you and I are getting married. Period."
"You can't order me around!"
He cut her off with his mouth, drowning her in ardor, making her moan with the tempestuous fury of his kiss. "Do you remember what we did at the last?" he whispered into her mouth and captured the tiny cry that accompanied her trembling.
When he let her go, she couldn't stand without his support. She leaned against him, shivering. He wanted her. She knew that. But she didn't think he was really capable of love. He wasn't a vulnerable man, and nothing left a person more helpless than loving someone.
"We shouldn'tget married."
"Yes, we should," he said gently. "And every night, I'll love you to sleep. In a few months, you'll give me a child."
She looked up into his dark, quiet eyes curiously. "Do you really want a child so much?"
"I need one," he said.
"Why?"
"Plenty of time for that
after we're married." He let her go with a smile. "Go and buy a wedding dress. I'll reimburse you for it, so don't skimp."
"It's so quick," she said vaguely.
"Most good things happen like lightning striking. Are you hungry? We'll go out for lunch, then I've got a full schedule this afternoon. We'll have to see about rings, too."
She was breathless from his commanding attitude. "You were never this busy"
"I was having a much-needed vacation from business. Now I'm back, and it's not going to slip through my hands again. These damned yes-men aren't going to sink my company," he said with a steely glare.
He didn't even sound like Jake anymore. He sounded cold and ruthless and all business. He made her shiver.
"Let's go." He put out his cigarette and took her arm, half leading, half dragging her to the outer office.
Charlene looked up, her eyebrows arching at the sight of a pale Maureen in MacFaber's grasp.
"We're going out for lunch," he told Charlene. "Get Minnow on the phone and tell him I want him in my office at one sharp. Call Dr. Samson and tell him I'll be in his office at ten tomorrow morning for blood tests for Maureen and myself. Call the courthouse and find out what I have to do to get a marriage license." He stopped to let Charlene catch up. She was flustered and breathless and her eyes kept going helplessly to Maureen. "You can come with us Monday morning. We'll need a witness, so get a girl from the typing pool to fill in for you. Got all that?"
"Yes, Mr. MacFaber," Charlene said smartly, because his eyes had dared her to miss a syllable.
"I'll be back at five before one."
He propelled Maureen out of the office, out of the building, and into a smoke-gray Rolls-Royce waiting with its own uniformed chauffeur.
"Cobb's Grill, Harry," he told the chauffeur and closed the curtain between them and the driver as the car pulled away from the curb. "Now," he said hungrily and turned to Maureen.
By the time they reached the grill, her lipstick was gone and her body was racked with shudders of aching need despite the fulfillment he'd given her the night before. She clung to him, but he put her gently away with a rueful smile, looking totally unruffled.