by Diana Palmer
Dear Reader,
I can hardly believe that Man in Control is my 100th book. In 1979, when I sold my first romance, I had very modest ambitions of being able to sell even one novel to a publisher. Beyond that, I assumed I would go on working as a newspaper reporter for the rest of my life.
You can’t imagine my astonishment when I queried Silhouette Books in 1980 and they accepted one of my novels for publication. This was before Silhouette merged with Harlequin Books, and it was one of the biggest milestones in my life. Heather’s Song, my Silhouette Special Edition novel published in 1982, followed two years after my greatest creative effort, our son, Blayne, who was born in 1980. Now it is twenty-three years later, and I have a hundred books under my belt.
There are a lot of people I have to thank for my success, besides God, my family and friends. First, my readers, who buy my books and make me feel as if I have talent. Second, my wonderful editors at Silhouette Books and MIRA Books, most especially my friend Tara Gavin, whose idea it was to create my own town in Texas and populate it with my characters. Third, the unsung heroes behind the scenes at Harlequin and Silhouette, which includes the associate editors and copy editors and artists and publicists who make me look so good. Fourth, Frank Yerby, one of the greatest historical novelists of the twentieth century, a fellow Georgian who encouraged me to follow my ambitions to publication. Last, but not least, bookstore owners and employees all over the world who stocked and recommended my books, and the tech reps who sell them to the bookstores and the distributors who send them out.
It takes a lot more than talent to get a hundred books in print. It takes a team of people. I am most fortunate to have Silhouette Books and MIRA Books and Harlequin Books as my publishers, and their wonderful employees who make me look better than I really am.
As I mark this great milestone in my career, I do it humbly and with great delight that I have found so many friends and fans in the world. As always, I am your greatest fan.
Love,
DIANA PALMER
MAN IN CONTROL
Books by Diana Palmer
Silhouette Desire
The Cowboy and the Lady #12
September Morning #26
Friends and Lovers #50
Fire and Ice #80
Snow Kisses #102
Diamond Girl #110
The Rawhide Man #157
Lady Love #175
Cattleman’s Choice #193
‡The Tender Stranger #230
Love by Proxy #252
Eye of the Tiger #271
Loveplay #289
Rawhide and Lace #306
Rage of Passion #325
Fit for a King #349
Betrayed by Love #391
‡Enamored #420
Reluctant Father #469
Hoodwinked #492
His Girl Friday #528
Hunter #606
Nelson’s Brand #618
The Best Is Yet To Come #643
*The Case of the Mesmerizing Boss #702
*The Case of the Confirmed Bachelor #715
*The Case of the Missing Secretary #733
Night of Love #799
Secret Agent Man #829
†That Burke Man #913
Man of Ice #1000
The Patient Nurse #1099
†Beloved #1189
‡The Winter Soldier #1351
†A Man of Means #1429
†Man in Control #1537
Silhouette Special Edition
Heather’s Song #33
The Australian #239
Maggie’s Dad #991
†Matt Caldwell: Texas Tycoon #1297
‡The Last Mercenary #1417
Silhouette Romance
Darling Enemy #254
Roomful of Roses #301
Heart of Ice #314
Passion Flower #328
‡Soldier of Fortune #340
After the Music #406
Champagne Girl #436
Unlikely Lover #472
Woman Hater #532
†Calhoun #580
†Justin #592
†Tyler #604
†Sutton’s Way #670
†Ethan #694
†Connal #741
†Harden #783
†Evan #819
†Donavan #843
†Emmett #910
King’s Ransom #971
†Regan’s Pride #1000
†Coltrain’s Proposal #1103
Mystery Man #1210
†The Princess Bride #1282
†Callaghan’s Bride #1355
‡Mercenary’s Woman #1444
Lionhearted #1631
Silhouette Books
Silhouette Christmas Stories 1987
“The Humbug Man”
Silhouette Summer Sizzlers 1990
“Miss Greenhorn”
To Mother with Love 1993
“Calamity Mom”
Montana Mavericks
Rogue Stallion
Abduction and Seduction 1995
“Redbird”
†A Long, Tall Texan Summer 1997
Lone Star Christmas 1997
†“Christmas Cowboy”
Montana Mavericks Weddings 1998
“The Bride Who Was Stolen in the Night”
†Love With a Long, Tall Texan 1999
Steeple Hill Love Inspired
Blind Promises
In loving memory of Diana Galloway
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Prologue
Alexander Tyrell Cobb glared at his desk in the Houston Drug Enforcement Administration office with barely contained frustration. There was a photograph of a lovely woman in a ball gown in an expensive frame, the only visible sign of any emotional connections. Like the conservative clothes he wore to work, the photograph gave away little of the private man.
The photograph was misleading. The woman in it wasn’t a close friend. She was a casual date, when he was between assignments. The frame had been given to him with the photo in it. He’d never put a woman’s photo in a frame. Well, except for Jodie Clayburn. She and his sister, Margie, were best friends from years past. Most of the family photos he had included Jodie. She wasn’t really family, of course. But there was no other Cobb family left, just as there was no other Clayburn family left. The three survivors of the two families were a forced mixture of different lifestyles.
Jodie was in love with Alexander. He knew it, and tried not to acknowledge it. She was totally wrong for him. He had no desire to marry and have a family. On the other hand, if he’d been seriously interested in children and a home life, Jodie would have been at the top of his list of potential mates. She had wonderful qualities. He wasn’t about to tell her so. She’d been hung up on him in the past to a disturbing degree. He’d managed to keep her at arm’s length, and he had no plans to lessen the space between them. He was married to his job.
Jodie, on the other hand, was an employee at a local oil corporation which was being used in an international drug smuggling operation. Alexander was almost certain of it. But he couldn’t prove it. He was going to have to find some way to investigate one of Jodie’s acquaintances without letting anyone realize they were being watched.
In the meantime, there was a party planned at the Cobb ranch in Jacobsville, Texas, on Saturday. He dreaded it already. He hated parties. Margie had already invited Jodie, probably because their housekeeper, Jessie, refused
to work that weekend. Jodie cooked with a masterful hand, and she could make canapés. Kirry had been invited, too, because Margie was a budding dress designer who needed a friend in the business. Kirry was senior buyer for the department store where she worked. She was pretty and capable, but Alexander found her good company and not much more. Their relationship had always been lukewarm and even now, it was slowly fizzling out. She was demanding. He had enough demands on the job.
He put the picture facedown on his desk and pulled a file folder closer, opening it to the photograph of a suspected drug smuggler who was working out of Houston. He had his work cut out for him. He wished he could avoid going home for the party, but Margie would never forgive him. If he didn’t show up, neither would Kirry, and Alexander would never hear the end of it. He put the weekend to the back of his mind and concentrated on the job at hand.
One
There was no way out of it. Margie Cobb had invited her to a party on the family ranch in Jacobsville, Texas. Jodie Clayburn had gone through her entire repertoire of excuses. Her favorite was that, given the right incentive, Margie’s big brother, Alexander Tyrell Cobb, would feed her to his cattle. Not even that one had worked.
“He hates me, Margie,” she groaned over the phone from her apartment in Houston, Texas. “You know he does. He’d be perfectly happy if I stayed away from him for the rest of my natural life and he never had to see me again.”
“That’s not true,” Margie defended. “Lex really likes you, I know he does,” she added with forced conviction, using the nickname that only a handful of people on earth were allowed to use. Jodie wasn’t one of them.
“Right. He just hides his affection for me in bouts of bad temper laced with sarcasm,” came the dry reply.
“Sure,” Margie replied with failing humor.
Jodie lay back on her sofa with the freedom phone at her ear and pushed back her long blond hair. It was getting too long. She really needed to have it cut, but she liked the feel of it. Her gray eyes smiled as she remembered how much Brody Vance liked long hair. He worked at the Ritter Oil Corporation branch office in Houston with her, and was on the management fast track. As Jody was. She was administrative assistant to Brody, and if Brody had his way, she’d take his job as Human Resources generalist when he moved up to Human Resources manager. He liked her. She liked him, too. Of course he had a knockout girlfriend who was a Marketing Division manager in Houston, but she was always on the road somewhere. He was lonely. So he had lunch frequently with Jodie. She was trying very hard to develop a crush on him. He was beginning to notice her. Alexander had accused her of trying to sleep her way to the executive wash-room…
“I was not!” she exclaimed, remembering his unexpected visit to her office with an executive of the company who was a personal friend. It had played havoc with her nerves and her heart. Seeing Alexander unexpectedly melted her from the neck down, despite her best efforts not to let him affect her.
“Excuse me?” Margie replied, aghast.
Jodie sat up quickly. “Nothing!” she said. “Sorry. I was just thinking. Did you know that Alexander has a friend who works for my company?”
There was a long pause. “He does?”
“Jasper Duncan, the Human Resources manager for our division.”
“Oh. Yes. Jasper!” There was another pause. “How do you know about that?”
“Because Mr. Duncan brought him right to my desk while I was talking to a…well, to a good friend of mine, my boss.”
“Right, the one he thinks you’re sleeping with.”
“Margie!” she exploded.
There was an embarrassed laugh. “Sorry. I know there’s nothing going on. Alexander always thinks the worst of people. You know about Rachel.”
“Everybody knows about Rachel,” she muttered. “It was six years ago and he still throws her up to us.”
“We did introduce him,” Margie said defensively.
“Well, how were we to know she was a female gigolo who was only interested in marrying a rich man? She should have had better sense than to think Alexander would play that sort of game, anyway!”
“You do know him pretty well, don’t you?” Margie murmured.
“We all grew up together in Jacobsville, Texas,” Jodie reminded her. “Sort of,” she added pensively. “Alexander was eight years ahead of us in school, and then he moved to Houston to work for the DEA when he got out of college.”
“He’s still eight years ahead of us,” Margie chuckled. “Come on. You know you’ll hate yourself if you miss this party. We’re having a houseful of people. Derek will be there,” she added sweetly, trying to inject a lure.
Derek was Margie’s distant cousin, a dream of a man with some peculiar habits and a really weird sense of humor.
“You know what happened the last time Derek and I were together,” Jodie said with a sense of foreboding.
“Oh, I’m sure Alexander has forgotten about that by now,” she was assured.
“He has a long memory. And Derek can talk me into anything,” Jodie added worriedly.
“I’ll hang out with both of you and protect you from dangerous impulses. Come on. Say yes. I’ve got an opportunity to show my designs. It depends on this party going smoothly. And I’ve made up this marvelous dress pattern I want to try out on you. For someone with the body of a clotheshorse, you have no sense of style at all!”
“You have enough for both of us. You’re a budding fashion designer. I’m a lady executive. I have to dress the part.”
“Baloney. When was the last time your boss wore a black dress to a party?”
Jodie was remembering a commercial she’d seen on television with men in black dresses. She howled, thinking of Alexander’s hairy legs in a short skirt. Then she tried to imagine where he’d keep his sidearm in a short skirt, and she really howled.
She told Margie what she was thinking, and they both collapsed into laughter.
“Okay,” she capitulated at last. “I’ll come. But if I break a tree limb over your brother’s thick skull, you can’t say you weren’t forewarned.”
“I swear, I won’t say a word.”
“Then I’ll see you Friday afternoon about four,” Jodie said with resignation. “I’ll rent a car and drive over.”
“Uh, Jodie…”
She groaned. “All right, Margie, all right, I’ll fly to the Jacobsville airport and you can pick me up there.”
“Great!”
“Just because I had two little bitty fender benders,” she muttered.
“You totaled two cars, Josie, and Alexander had to bail you out of jail after the last one…”
“Well, that stupid thickheaded barbarian deserved to be hit! He called me a…well, never mind, but he asked for a punch in the mouth!” Josie fumed.
Margie was trying not to laugh. Again.
“Anyway, it was only a small fine and the judge took my side when he heard the whole story,” she said, ignoring Margie’s quick reminder that Alexander had talked to the judge first. “Not that your brother ever let me forget it! Just because he works for the Justice Department is no reason for him to lecture me on law!”
“We just want you to arrive alive, darling,” Margie drawled. “Now throw a few things into a suitcase, tell your boss you have a sick cousin you have to take care of before rush hour, and we’ll…I’ll…meet you at the airport Friday afternoon. You phone and tell me your flight number, okay?”
“Okay,” Josie replied, missing the slip.
“See you then! We’re going to have a ball.”
“Sure we are,” Josie told her. But when she hung up, she was calling herself all sorts of names for being such a weak-ling. Alexander was going to cut her up, she just knew it. He didn’t like her. He never had. He’d gotten more antagonistic since she moved to Houston, where he worked, too. Further, it would probably mean a lot of work for Jodie, because she usually had to prepare meals if she showed up. The family cook, Jessie, hated being around Alexander when he was home
, so she ran for the hills. Margie couldn’t cook at all, so Jodie usually ended up with KP. Not that she minded. It was just that she felt used from time to time.
And despite Margie’s assurances, she knew she was in for the fight of her life once she set foot on the Cobb ranch. At least Margie hadn’t said anything about inviting Alexander’s sometimes-girlfriend, Kirry Dane. A weekend with the elegant buyer for an exclusive Houston department store would be too much.
The thing was, she had to go when Margie asked her. She owed the Cobbs so much. When her parents, small Jacobsville ranchers, had been drowned in a riptide during a modest Florida vacation at the beach, it had been Alexander who flew down to take care of all the arrangements and comfort a devastated seventeen-year-old Jodie. When she entered business college, Alexander had gone with her to register and paid the fees himself. She spent every holiday with Margie. Since the death of the Cobbs’ father, and their inheritance of the Jacobsville ranch property, she’d spent her vacation every summer there with Margie. Her life was so intertwined with that of the Cobbs that she couldn’t even imagine life without them.
But Alexander had a very ambiguous relationship with Jodie. From time to time he was affectionate, in his gruff way. But he also seemed to resent her presence and he picked at her constantly. He had for the past year.
She got up and went to pack, putting the antagonism to the back of her mind. It did no good to dwell on her confrontations with Alexander. He was like a force of nature which had to be accepted, since it couldn’t be controlled.
The Jacobsville Airport was crowded for a Friday afternoon. It was a tiny airport compared to those in larger cities, but a lot of people in south Texas used it for commuter flights to San Antonio and Houston. There was a restaurant and two concourses, and the halls were lined with beautiful paintings of traditional Texas scenery.
Jodie almost bowed under the weight of her oversized handbag and the unruly carry-on bag whose wheels didn’t quite work. She looked around for Margie. The brunette wouldn’t be hard to spot because she was tall for a woman, and always wore something striking—usually one of her own flamboyant designs.
