Man in Control

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Man in Control Page 15

by Diana Palmer


  The next day, Brody seemed very preoccupied. She took dictation, which he gave haltingly, and almost absently.

  “Are you okay?” she wanted to know.

  He moved restively around his office. He turned to stare at her curiously. “Are you involved in some sort of top secret operation or something?”

  Her eyes popped. “Pardon?”

  He cleared his throat. “I know you were at a coffeehouse where Cara went last night with a friend. I wondered if you were spying on her…?”

  “I go to The Beat all the time, Brody,” she told him, surprised. “Alexander’s idea of an evening out is a concert or the theater, but my tastes run to bad poetry and bongos. I’ve been going there for weeks. It’s no secret. The owner knows me very well.”

  He relaxed suddenly and smiled. “Thank goodness! That’s what Cara told me, of course, but it seemed odd that you’d be there when she was. I mean, like you and your boyfriend showed up at the restaurant where we had lunch that day, and then you were at the concert, too. And your friend does work for the DEA…”

  “Coincidences,” she said lazily. “That’s all. Unless you think I’ve been following you,” she added with deliberate emphasis, demurely lowering her eyes.

  There was a long, shocked pause. “Why, I never thought…considered…really?”

  She crossed her legs. “I think you’re very nice, Brody, and Cara treats you like a pet dog,” she said with appropriate indignation. She peered at him covertly. “You’re too good for her.”

  He was obviously embarrassed, flattered, and uncertain. “My gosh…I’m sorry, but I knew about Cobb working for the DEA, and then the drug bust came so unexpectedly. Well, it seemed logical that he might be spying on Cara with your help…”

  “I never dreamed that I looked like a secret agent!” she exclaimed, and then she chuckled. “As if Alexander would ever trust me with something so dangerous,” she added, lowering her eyes so that he couldn’t see them.

  He sighed. “Forgive me. I’ve had these crazy theories. Cara thought I was nuts, especially after she told me the owner of that coffeehouse knew you very well and encouraged you to read…well…very bad poetry. She thought maybe he had a case on you.”

  “It was not bad poetry! And he had a case on Cara, not me,” she replied with just the right amount of pique.

  “Did he!”

  “I told him she was your girlfriend, don’t worry,” she said, and managed to sound regretful.

  “Jodie, I’m very flattered,” he faltered.

  She held up a hand. “Let’s not talk about it, Brody, okay? You just dictate, and I’ll write.”

  He sighed, studying her closely. After a minute, he shrugged, and began dictating. This time, he was concise and relaxed. Jodie felt like collapsing with relief, herself. It had been a close call, and not even because Cara was suspicious. It was Brody who seemed to sense problems.

  Ten

  It was a relief that Cara didn’t suspect Jodie of spying, but it was worrying that Brody did. He was an intelligent man, and it wouldn’t be easy to fool him. She’d have to mention that to Alexander when she saw him.

  He came by the apartment that evening, soon after Jodie got home from work, taciturn and worried.

  “Something happened,” she guessed uneasily.

  He nodded. “Got any coffee?”

  “Sure. Come on into the kitchen.”

  He sat down and she poured him a cup from the pot full she’d just made. He sipped it and studied her across the table. “Kennedy came back to town today. He’s Cara’s contact.”

  “Oh, dear,” she murmured, sensing that something was very wrong.

  He nodded. “I called him into my office and told him I was firing him, and why. I have sworn statements from two witnesses who are willing to testify against him in return for reduced sentences.” He sighed. “He said that he knew you were involved, that you’d helped me finger Cara, and that he’d tell her if I didn’t back down.”

  “Don’t feel bad about it,” she said, mentally panicking while trying not to show it. “You couldn’t let him stay, after what he did.”

  He looked at her blankly. “You’re a constant surprise to me, Jodie. How did you know I wouldn’t back down?”

  She smiled gently. “You wouldn’t be Alexander if you let people bluff you.”

  “Yes, baby, but he’s not bluffing.”

  The endearment caught her off guard, made her feel warm inside, warm all over. “So what do we do now?” she asked, a little disconcerted.

  He noted her warm color and smiled tenderly. “You go live with Margie for a few days, until I wrap up this case. Our cover’s blown now for sure.”

  “Margie can shoot a gun, but she’s not all that great at it, Alexander,” she pointed out.

  “Our foreman, Chayce, is, and so is cousin Derek,” he replied. “He was involved in national security work when he was just out of college. He’s a dead shot, and he’ll be bringing his two brothers with him.” He chuckled. “Funny. All I had to say was that Margie might be in danger along with you, and he volunteered at once.”

  “You don’t like him,” she recalled.

  He shrugged. “I don’t like the idea of Margie getting involved with a cousin. But Derek seemed to know that, too, and he told me something I didn’t know before when I phoned him. He wasn’t my uncle’s son. His mother had an affair with an old beau and he was the result. It was a family secret until last night. Which means,” he added, “that he’s only related to us by marriage, not by blood.”

  “He told you himself?” she asked.

  “He told me. Apparently, he told you, too. But he didn’t tell Margie.”

  “Have you?” she wondered.

  “That’s for him to do,” he replied. “I’ve interfered enough.” He checked his watch. “I’ve got to go. I have a man watching the apartment,” he added. “The one I told you about. But tomorrow, you tell Brody you’re taking a few days off to look after a sick relative and you go to Margie. Got that?”

  “But my job…!”

  “It’s your life!” he shot back, eyes blazing. “This is no game. These people will kill you as surely as they killed those children. I am not going to watch you die, Jodie. Least of all for something I got you into!”

  She caught her breath. This was far more serious than she’d realized.

  “I told you,” he emphasized, “Cara knows you were involved. The secret’s out. You leave town. Period.”

  She stared at him and knew she was trapped. Her job was going to be an afterthought. They’d fire her. She was even afraid to take a day off when she was sick, because the company policy in her department was so strict.

  “If you lose that job, it will be a blessing,” Alexander told her flatly. “You’re too good to waste your life taking somebody else’s dictation. When this is over, I’ll help you find something better. I’ll take you to classes so that you can get your expert computer certification, then I’ll get an employment agency busy to find you a better job.”

  That was a little disappointing. Obviously he didn’t have a future with her in mind, or he wouldn’t be interested in getting her a job.

  He leaned back in his chair, sipping coffee. “Although,” he added suddenly, his gaze intent, “there might be an alternative.”

  “An alternative?”

  “We’ll talk about that later,” he said. He finished his coffee. “I have to go.”

  She got up and walked him to the door. “You be careful, too,” she chided.

  He opened his jacket and indicated the .45 automatic in its hand-tooled leather holster.

  “It won’t shoot itself,” she reminded him pertly.

  He chuckled, drew her into his arms, and kissed her until her young body ached with deep, secret longings.

  He lifted his head finally, and he wasn’t breathing normally. She felt the intensity of his gaze all the way to her toes as he looked at her. “All these years,” he murmured, “and I wasted them snipi
ng at you.”

  “You seemed to enjoy it at the time,” she remarked absently, watching his mouth hover over hers.

  “I didn’t want a marriage like my parents had. I played the field, to keep women from getting serious about me,” he confessed. He traced her upper lip with his mouth, with breathless tenderness. “Especially you,” he added roughly. “No one else posed the threat you did, with your old-fashioned ideals and your sterling character. But I couldn’t let you see how attracted to you I was. I did a pretty good job. And then you had too much champagne at a party and did what I’d been afraid you’d do since you graduated from high school.”

  “You were afraid…?”

  He nibbled her upper lip. “I knew that if you ever got close, I’d never be able to let you go,” he whispered sensuously. “What I spouted to Margie was a lot of hot air. I ached from head to toe after what we did together. I wanted you so badly, honey. I didn’t sleep all night thinking about how easy it would have been.”

  “I didn’t sleep thinking that you hated me,” she confessed.

  He sighed regretfully. “I didn’t know you’d overheard me, but I said enough when I left you at your bedroom. I felt guilty when I went downstairs and saw your face. You were shamed and humiliated, and it was my fault. I only wanted a chance to make amends, but you started backing away and you wouldn’t stop. That was when I knew what a mistake I’d made.”

  She toyed with his shirt button. “And then you needed help to catch a drug smuggler,” she mused.

  There was a pause long enough to make her look up. “You’re good, Jodie, and I did need somebody out of the agency to dig out that information for me. But…”

  “But?”

  He smiled sheepishly. “Houston P.D. owes me a favor. They’d have been glad to get the information for me. So would the Texas Rangers, or the county sheriff.”

  “Then why did you ask me to do it?” she exclaimed.

  His hands went to frame her face. They felt warm and strong against her soft skin. “I was losing you,” he whispered as he bent again to rub his lips tenderly over her mouth. “You wouldn’t let me near you any other way.”

  His mouth was making pudding of her brain. She slid her arms up around his neck and her hands tangled in the thick hair above his nape. “But there was Kirry…”

  “Window dressing. I didn’t even like her, especially by the time my birthday rolled around. I gave Margie hell for inviting her to my birthday party, did she tell you?”

  She shook her head, dazed.

  He caught her upper lip in his mouth and toyed with it. His breathing grew unsteady. His hands on her face became insistent. “I got drunk when Margie told me you’d overheard us,” he whispered. “It took two neat whiskeys for me to even phone you. Too much was riding on my ability to make an apology. And frankly, baby, I don’t make a habit of giving them.”

  She melted into his body, hungry for closer contact. “I was so ashamed of what I’d done…”

  His mouth crushed down onto hers with passionate intent. “I loved what you did,” he ground out. “I wasn’t kidding when I told you that. I could taste you long after I went to bed. I dreamed about it all night.”

  “So did I,” she whispered.

  His lips parted hers ardently. “I thought you were hung up on damned Brody,” he murmured, “until you aimed that car at the gunman. I prayed for all I was worth until I got to you and knew that you were all right. I could have lost you forever. It haunts me!”

  “I’m tougher than old cowboy boots,” she whispered, elated beyond belief at what he was saying to her.

  “And softer than silk, in all the right places. Come here.” He moved her against the wall. His body pressed hers gently against it while he kissed her with all the pent-up longing he’d been suppressing for weeks. When she moaned, he felt his body tremble with aching need.

  “You’re killing me,” he ground out.

  “Wh…what?”

  He lifted his head and looked down into soft, curious brown eyes. “You haven’t got a clue,” he muttered. “Can’t you tell when a man’s dying of lust?”

  Her eyebrows arched as he rested his weight on his hands next to her ears on the wall and suddenly pressed his hips into hers, emphatically demonstrating the question.

  She swallowed hard. “Alexander, I was really only kidding about having a dress with prophylactics pinned to the hem….”

  He burst out laughing and forced his aching body away from hers. “I’ve never laughed as much in my life as I do with you,” he said on a long sigh. “But I really would give half an arm to lay you down on the carpet right now, Jodie.”

  She flushed with more delight than fear. “One of us could run to the drugstore, I guess,” she murmured dryly.

  “Not now,” he whispered wickedly. “But hold that thought until I wind up this case.”

  She laughed. “Okay.”

  He nibbled her upper lip. “I’ll pick you up at work about nine in the morning,” he murmured as he lifted his head. “And I’ll drive you down to Jacobsville.”

  “You’re really worried,” she realized, when she saw the somber expression.

  “Yes, Jodie. I’m really worried. Keep your doors locked and don’t answer the phone.”

  “What if it’s you?” she worried.

  “Do you still have the cell phone I loaned you?”

  “Yes.”

  She produced it. He opened it, turned it on, and checked the battery. “It’s fully charged. Leave it on. If I need to call you, I’ll use this number. You can call me if you’re afraid. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  He kissed her one last time, gave her a soulful, enigmatic look, and went out the door. She bolted it behind him and stood there for several long seconds, her head whirling with the changes that were suddenly upsetting her life and career. Alexander was trying to tell her something, but she couldn’t quite decide what. Did he want an affair? He certainly couldn’t be thinking about marriage, he hated the whole thought of it. But, what did he want? She worried the question until morning, and still had no answers.

  “You’re going to leave for three days, just like that?” Brody exploded at work the next morning, his face harder than Jodie had ever seen it. “How the hell am I going to manage without a secretary?” he blustered. “I can’t type my own letters!”

  The real man, under the facade, Jodie thought, fascinated with her first glimpse of Brody’s dark side. She’d never seen him really angry.

  “I’m not just a secretary,” she reminded him.

  “Oh, hell, you do mail and requisition forms,” he said coldly. “Call it what you like, it’s donkey work.” His eyes narrowed. “It’s because of what you did to Cara, isn’t it? You’re scared, so you’re running away!”

  Her face flamed with temper. She stood up from her desk and gave him a look that would have melted steel. “Would you be keen to hang around if they were gunning for you? You listen to me, Brody, these drug lords don’t care who dies as long as they get their money. There are two dead little children who didn’t do a thing wrong, except stand between a drug dealer and their mother, who was trying to shut down drug dealing in her neighborhood. Cara is part of that sick trade, and if you defend her, so are you!”

  He gaped at her. In the years they’d worked together, Jodie had never talked back to him.

  She grabbed up her purse and got the few personal belongings out of her desk. “Never mind holding my job open for me. I quit!” she told him flatly. “There must be more to life than pandering to the ego of a man who thinks I’m a donkey. One more thing, Brody,” she added, facing him with her arms full of her belongings. “You and your drug-dealing girlfriend can both go to hell, with my blessing!”

  She turned and stalked out of her cubicle. She imagined a trail of fire behind her. Brody’s incredulous gasp had been music to her ears. Alexander was right. She was wasted here. She’d find something better, she knew it.

  On her way out the door, she al
most collided with Phillip Hunter. He righted her, his black eyebrows arching.

  “You’re leaving, Miss Clayburn?” he asked.

  “I’m leaving, Mr. Hunter,” she said, still bristling from her encounter with Brody.

  “Great. Come with me.”

  He motioned with his chin. She followed him, puzzled, because he’d never spoken to her before except in a cordial, impersonal way.

  He led her into the boardroom and closed the door. Inside was the other dark man she’d met briefly during the drug bust at the warehouse, Colby Lane, and the owner of the corporation himself, Eugene Ritter.

  “Sit down, Ms. Clayburn,” Ritter said with a warm smile, his blue eyes twinkling under a lock of silver hair.

  She dropped into a chair, with her sack full of possessions clutched close to her chest.

  “Mr. Ritter,” she began, wondering what in the world she was going to do now. “I can explain…”

  “You don’t have to,” he said gently. “I already know everything. When this drug case is wrapped up—and Cobb assures me it will be soon—how would you like to come back and work for me in an area where your skills won’t be wasted?”

  She was speechless. She just stared at him over her bulging carry-all.

  “Phillip wants to go home to Arizona to work in our branch office there, and Colby Lane here—” he indicated the other dark man “—is going to replace him. He knows about your computer skills and Cobb’s already told him that you’re a whiz with investigations. How would you like to work for Lane as a computer security consultant? It will pay well and you’ll have autonomy within the corporation. The downside,” he added slowly, “is that you may have to do some traveling eventually, to our various branch offices, to work with Hunter and our other troubleshooters. Is that a problem?”

  She shook her head, still grasping for a hold on the situation.

  “Good!” He rubbed his hands together. “Then we’ll draw up a contract for you, and you can have your attorney read and approve it when you come back.” He was suddenly solemn. “There are going to be a lot of changes here in the near future. I’ve been coasting along in our headquarters office in Oklahoma and letting the outlying divisions take care of themselves, with near-disastrous results. If Hunter hadn’t been tipped off by Cobb about the warehouse being used as a drug drop, we could have been facing federal charges, with no intentional involvement whatsoever on our part, on international drug smuggling. Tell Cobb we owe him one for that.”

 

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