Man of the Hour

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Man of the Hour Page 19

by Diana Palmer


  She hesitated, and then shook her head. “Only with you, that one time,” she said involuntarily, and her eyes flickered with painful memories before they fell.

  He slid his hands deep into his pockets. He remembered, as she did, the wonder of that night. Nothing in his life before or since had ever equaled it, as relatively innocent an experience as it had been. Because he knew in his heart that he wasn’t ready for marriage, he’d been too honorable to seduce a woman as innocent as Kirry, although their intimacy had been devastating just the same.

  Then the very next day, Chad had dropped his bombshell and the relationship had shattered forever.

  “You sit pretty heavy on my conscience sometimes,” he said unexpectedly.

  Her eyes lifted to his. “That’s a shocker,” she murmured. “I thought I was just one in a line.”

  “Fat chance.” His gaze slid over her slowly, boldly. “I suggested that we get engaged, but I didn’t really want to get married and you did. That was the real problem. I guess that’s why I believed Chad, and not you.”

  “That’s what my mother said.”

  “Well, she is astute every now and then,” he observed.

  “It was the only time in our lives that she really tried to act like my mother,” she reminisced. “I needed her, and she was there. Even if it was a fairly innocent thing, it hurt once it was over.”

  “Did you think I got away scot-free?” he asked curiously.

  She shrugged. “You wanted out and you got out.”

  “I didn’t want to get married,” he repeated. “That didn’t mean I wasn’t involved emotionally. It hurt me, too.”

  “That’s hard to imagine,” she said. “You never took anything seriously, least of all me.”

  “You’d be surprised.” He looked at her intently before continuing. “The apartment I’m getting isn’t very large, but I like the view. And it’s convenient to yours, if Erikson tries anything.”

  She didn’t like to think about that. Knowing what she’d learned about the man made her very nervous. “Couldn’t we manage better if you moved in with me?” she said, thinking out loud. “I have two bedrooms and I can cook.”

  “I can cook, too,” he volunteered, ignoring her offer. “And I don’t have a phobia of vacuum cleaners. This last one I bought has lasted a whole month.”

  “A month!”

  “Well, the damned things are like elephants. When you drag them around by the trunk and get them hung on furniture, and jerk real hard…it pulls their little trunks off!”

  She laughed. He was as incorrigible as ever. He made her forget Erikson, even if just for a little while.

  “Feel like helping me move tonight?”

  “If we’ll have enough time, I guess so.” She had visions of lugging furniture up on the elevator as she toyed with her napkin. “Is there someone who’d mind if you stayed in my apartment?” she prompted, curious about his reasons for refusing.

  “A woman, you mean?”

  She nodded.

  “No,” he said gently. “There isn’t anyone.”

  “I see.”

  “Probably not.” He chuckled. “Finished? Let’s go fall on a mat for a couple of hours.”

  “I’m still sore from the last time,” she groaned.

  “And we haven’t even gotten to the bag, yet.” He sighed. “You’ll have to take more vitamins.”

  “It sure does look like it,” she agreed grimly.

  The side and back break falls went on forever, but this night he began to teach her the hand positions as well. The more she learned about economic movement, the more fascinating it became. She could understand how people loved the sport. There were several women in the gym this particular night, being taught a self-defense class by Tony, the man who managed the gym.

  “They’re doing a lot more than we are,” she said pointedly to Lang while she was catching her breath.

  “Sure they are. It’s a two-week class. He has to get through a lot of material. And it’s just basic stuff, like how to bring a high heel down on an instep or put a knee in a man’s groin. You’re learning a lot more, and it will take longer.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  “You’re a promising pupil, too,” he had to admit. “You’re taking to it like a duck to water.”

  “Why didn’t you ever show me any of this years ago, when we were together?” she asked.

  He searched her curious eyes. “Because it was hard enough to keep my hands off you. A class like this, with constant touching, would have put me right over the edge.”

  Her eyebrows arched. “But you never wanted me.” She blurted out the words. “Only that once….”

  He moved closer, so that his voice wouldn’t carry, so close that she could feel the strength and heat of his body. “I wanted you night and day,” he said huskily. “You were too innocent to notice.”

  “I must have been,” she agreed. “But it doesn’t seem to bother you now.”

  “I’m older,” he replied. “And a good deal more experienced.”

  Her eyes went cold. “Of course.”

  He turned away. The jealousy he saw in those green eyes made his body ache. She still felt possessive about him, but that didn’t mean she still cared. He had to remember that, and not read too much into her reactions.

  “Let’s try this again.”

  He positioned her on the mat and invited her to use one of the hold-breaking positions on him. She went through the motions smoothly, but she couldn’t get him onto the mat. He countered every move she made, laughing.

  “That’s not fair, Lang,” she panted, pushing. “You won’t cooperate.”

  “Okay, go ahead. Throw me.” He relaxed, standing still.

  She put her whole heart into it, stepping in with one leg, tripping with the other, pushing and pulling until she broke his balance and put him down. But she underestimated her own stability, and in the process, she went down heavily on top of him.

  “You aren’t supposed to fall with the victim,” he instructed.

  She was too winded to move momentarily. One of her legs was between both of his, her breasts flattened on his chest, her hands on either side of his head. It was a surprisingly comfortable position, if she’d been a little less aware of the intimacy of it.

  “Could you help me up?” she asked breathlessly.

  “Why not? You’ve certainly helped me up,” he said with a blatant sensuality that brought a blush to her face when he shifted and made the point very clear.

  “Lang!” she gasped.

  He chuckled with pure delight as she scrambled off his body and got to her feet, red faced.

  “Well, fortunately for us both, these jackets are loose and hip length,” he said as he rose to tower over her.

  “You’re horrible!” she exclaimed, pushing back strands of damp blond hair from her eyes.

  “You might consider it a form of flattery,” he remarked. “Actually this condition isn’t as easy to create as you might think. Not with other women, at least….”

  “I want to go home,” she said stiffly.

  “Suit yourself, but you’re going to miss the best part. I was going to teach you how to deal with a kick.”

  “You can do that another time,” she said, fighting for composure.

  “I was only teasing, Kirry,” he said gently.

  She let out a long sigh. “I’m not laughing,” she muttered.

  “Get your stuff and we’ll drop by my apartment and get my stuff.”

  She hesitated. “Maybe he’ll give it up.”

  He shook his head, and there was weary wisdom in his eyes. “Not a chance.”

  Lang’s apartment was on the sixth floor of an old downtown hotel, and the decor was Roaring Twenties. It was dark and cramped, and Lang’s belongings barely filled one suitcase.

  “That’s all?” she asked uneasily, lifting her eyes to his when he’d changed in the bedroom and came out with one suitcase and a long suit bag.

  “That’s it,�
� he agreed. “I travel light.”

  “But you must have more than that!”

  “I do. It’s at Bob and Connie’s place.”

  “Oh, of course. I forgot. You wouldn’t want to carry heirlooms around the world with you.”

  “Speaking of heirlooms,” he said slowly, “what did you ever do with the emerald I gave you?”

  She averted her eyes. “Do you really think I’d keep something that reminded me of you, after the way you dumped me?”

  “Yes, I do,” he said.

  She glared at him. “I meant to throw it away.”

  “I wouldn’t have blamed you,” he assured her. He smiled. “But I’m glad you didn’t hate me enough to actually do it.”

  “It’s a pretty ring,” she commented.

  “But you don’t wear it.”

  “It’s part of the past. I wanted to start over. I went to university and when I came out, with a major in public relations, I walked right into this job. I’ve been very lucky.”

  “You’re alone,” he remarked.

  “I wanted it that way,” she said shortly. “When I’m ready, I’ll start looking for a husband.”

  “Have anyone in mind?” he asked carelessly, gathering his stuff.

  “Mack,” she said triumphantly.

  He raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Do tell.”

  “Mack’s settled and financially secure, and good company.”

  “You’d shrivel up like a prune if he touched you,” he scoffed. “I’ve seen the way you draw your legs up when he comes close.”

  “You have not!”

  “Kirry, you don’t know a damned thing about modern surveillance techniques, do you?” he asked dryly. “Maybe that’s good. I’d hate to make you inhibited when you dance around your bedroom in the nude.”

  She gasped audibly and went scarlet. “You Peeping Tom!”

  “Accidental, I swear it,” he said, holding up a hand. “It was the mirror. I had the camera just a little too far to the left….”

  She aimed a blow at him, and he sidestepped just in time.

  He laughed delightedly. “I thought you were spectacular,” he said deeply. “All pink and mauve and blond. A nymph caught cavorting among the ferns. I didn’t sleep all night long.”

  She glared at him. “I hate you.”

  “Kirry,” he said softly, “I didn’t see much that I haven’t already seen before. I know, you don’t like remembering that, but it’s true.”

  “If I’d known what was going to happen later, that you’d believe those sick lies of Chad’s…!”

  “You’d never have let me touch you. I know that,” he replied, his voice quiet and somber.

  She wrapped her coat closer around her gi. “I’m ashamed of that night, anyway.”

  That stung. “I can’t imagine why,” he said matter-of-factly. “We were engaged. Most engaged people make love, and it isn’t as if we went all the way.”

  “They make love when they actually plan to get married. That’s why you always held back before, wasn’t it, because you never had any intention of marrying me?”

  “Once or twice, I thought about it,” he confessed. “You were hungry for that damned ring, for the proposal. I humored you, because you wanted it that badly. But I knew that I’d be no good as husband material until I got the wanderlust out of me. I tried to tell you that, but you were so young.”

  “Young and stupid,” she agreed. “And desperately in love.”

  He averted his eyes. “In love, hell,” he said curtly. “You wanted to sleep with me.”

  “Of course I did, but it was much more than that,” she argued.

  “You were only eighteen,” he returned, moving toward the door. “It’s ancient history now, anyway, and we have more important things to think about.”

  “Sure.” She opened the door for him, refusing to look up.

  He went out, let her move past him and then turned off the lights and locked the door. Later, he’d have a talk with the manager about his brief absence, to make sure the man knew that he was only leaving temporarily. He’d pay the rent up in advance, too, just in case. With any luck, Erikson was going to be a bad memory in the near future.

  Kirry held his clothes bag while he unlocked the apartment next to hers and opened the door. It was smaller than hers, but not much. It had a better view than hers did of the Alamo, and it looked as though it had just been decorated. It was done in greens and browns, and somehow it suited Lang.

  “Yes, I like this,” he remarked as he looked around. He glanced back at her. “We live close enough to share kitchen duty. You could cook one night and I could cook the next.”

  “That would be nice,” she said.

  “But you can’t sleep over,” he added sternly. “No use begging, it won’t work. I don’t allow women into the bedroom. It’s too hard to get them out.”

  She smiled faintly. “I’ll bet it is.”

  His eyebrow jerked. “Want to find out why?” he asked sensually.

  “I have a pretty good idea,” she replied, dropping her eyes. “You’re a hard act to follow.”

  He turned back toward her with his hands deep in his pockets. “So are you,” he replied honestly.

  Her eyes scanned his broad face and she had to bite down hard to keep from begging him to kiss her. That way lay disaster, she reminded herself. She knew better than to encourage Lang.

  She turned. “Well, I’ll let you get settled. I’m tired and I want to go to bed.”

  He followed her to the door and opened it for her. “I’ve already checked out this place,” he said. “The bedroom where you sleep is on the other side of the wall of mine. If you rap on the wall, I’ll hear you. I don’t sleep heavily, ever.”

  “Thanks. That’s nice to know.”

  “Wear a gown, will you?” he asked on a groan. “I have to keep you under surveillance for your own protection. Don’t make it any harder on me than you have to.”

  She glared at him. “I’ll wear body armor, in fact,” she said with a curt nod of her head. “Good night, Lang.”

  “Sleep well.”

  “I want a nice hot bath and…” She hesitated, her eyes shooting to his.

  He sighed with resignation. “Okay, I’ll cut the camera off when I hear water running, will that do?”

  “You don’t need a camera in the bathroom!” she exclaimed.

  “That’s odd, the last man we protected said the same thing,” he told her frankly. “We got some very interesting pictures of him and his lady….”

  “How is it that you’re still alive?” she asked, exasperated.

  “Not for lack of effort by irate taxpayers, that’s for sure,” he said with twinkling eyes. “Sleep well, little one. I’ll be as close as a shout if you need me.”

  “You’ll get a shout if you don’t turn those cameras off,” she informed him.

  “Spoilsport,” he muttered.

  “I don’t watch you take baths,” she assured him.

  He didn’t smile as she expected him to. His dark eyes held hers until she felt her knees buckle. “Want to?” he asked softly.

  5

  She glowered at him. “Fat chance,” she said smartly. He shrugged. “Your loss,” he informed her with dancing eyes. “Keep the door locked.”

  She gave him a speaking look.

  “Overkill, huh?” he teased as he went to the door and opened it. “How about riding in with me in the morning?” he suggested. “I can guarantee you won’t see your blue sedan buddy while I’m around.”

  “He might take that as cowardice,” she said simply.

  “Listen,” he replied, leaning back against the door, “you can push your body just so far before it gives out on you. Stress is dangerous. Don’t let it get to the point that your nerves are shot. If you go in with me, it will take some of the pressure off. Don’t you even realize how tense you are lately?”

  She felt the coldness of her own hands with irritation. “Yes, I know, but I don’t want to
make him think I’m afraid, even if I am.”

  He smiled. “He won’t. He’ll assume that I’ve taken you over. It’s the way that kind of man thinks.”

  “Well, I guess I could ride with you,” she said. “As long as you don’t really try to take me over.”

  His dark eyes narrowed and wandered over her as if they were caressing hands. “Could I, Kirry, if I worked at it?” he asked, and there was something unfamiliar in the glint of his eyes.

  “Sorry, I’m immune,” she replied pertly.

  “To measles, maybe,” he agreed. “But not to me. You still blush when I look at you, after all these years.”

  “Skin hysteria,” she countered. “My pores are all allergic to you.”

  He chuckled. “Remember when we went to the park that time, and wound up with six lost little kids in tow? They wanted to know why you had freckles across your nose and I told them it was because you were allergic to ice cream.”

  “And they almost cried for me.” She smiled back. “Oh, Lang, we had such good times.” The expression in her eyes became sad. “You were my best friend.”

  He winced. “And you were mine. But several years ago, I was a bad marriage risk. You must have known it. There was so much I wanted to do with my life, things I couldn’t have done with a family.”

  “Yes. Like joining the CIA.” She dropped her gaze to his broad chest, because she didn’t want him to see the remnants of the terror in them. She hadn’t known exactly where he was for years, except when Connie and Bob, with whom she was still friends, let slip little bits of information about his work. She’d worried and watched the whole time, afraid that he was going to be killed, that he’d come home in a box. The reality of seeing him again that first day he’d come to work for Lancaster, Inc. had knocked her legs out from under her. She was still reeling from the impact of knowing that he’d given up the old life. And wondering why he had.

  “Kirry?” he asked softly, interrupting her memories.

  “What?”

  He shook his head. “You weren’t even listening, were you?” he mused.

  “I was thinking about how it was while you were away,” she said involuntarily, scanning his eyes. “I read about covert operations in the newspapers and wondered if you were in the middle of them, if you were all right.” She laughed. “Silly, wasn’t it?”

 

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