The Dakota Man

by Joan Hohl

  “Yes,” Ms. Haughty snapped. “Tell him I expect him to return my call as soon as he is out of conference.”

  Maggie winced as the receiver was slammed down at the other end of the line. “Well, goodbye to you, too,” she murmured, smiling with satisfaction.

  “Who was that?”

  Not having heard the office door open, Maggie started at the sound of Karla’s voice. “Oh, Karla,” she said, her smile widening. “Feel better?”

  “Umm,” Karla nodded, and grinned. “At least for another hour or so. Who were you talking to?”

  “An unpleasant woman named Natalie Crane,” Maggie drawled. “She demanded to speak to Mitch.”

  Karla made a face. “The Popsicle Princess.”

  “Popsicle Princess?” Maggie laughed. “Why do you call her that?”

  Karla laughed with her. “Because she’s cold as ice, and has very little substance.” Her laughter gave way to a frown. “What did Mitch say?”

  “He refused to talk to her.” She lowered her voice. “In fact, he told me to get rid of her.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Karla confided. “He can be utterly unrelenting at times.”

  A terror and unrelenting, Maggie mused, suppressing a shudder. Wonderful. The strange thing was, the shudder was made up of equal parts of trepidation and…and…surely not a sense of fascination and excitement? Of course not, she assured herself, while at the same time speculation whispered through her mind about whether some of those unrelenting times might occur when he was in bed, with a woman. More to the point, was Natalie Crane one such woman?

  Although Maggie tried to contain her curiosity, she had to ask, “And he’s unrelenting with this particular woman?”

  “Yes.” Karla sighed. “She’s called here several times, but he absolutely refuses to speak to her.”

  Unrelenting indeed, Maggie mused, her curiosity unanswered by Karla’s response. But, telling herself it was really none of her business, Maggie refrained from questioning Karla further on the subject.

  “Is his visitor still in there?”

  Jarred from her musings by the question, Maggie blinked. “Visitor?” she repeated, getting up and moving around the desk so Karla could sit down. “He has a visitor?”

  “Yes.” Karla nodded, settling into the chair. “Frank brought him in right after you went out.” She frowned. “Didn’t you see them?”

  “Oh, yes,” Maggie said, her smile wry. “I nearly ran smack into Frank. But I was in such a rush, I didn’t notice the man with him.”

  “You’re kidding,” Karla exclaimed. “Gosh, I’d have taken notice of him in a crowded room.”

  Maggie laughed. “Good-looking, huh?”

  “I’ll say.” Karla heaved a dramatic, exaggerated sigh and placed a hand on her chest. “Be still, my heart.”

  “Wow,” Maggie said, playing along with the fun. “I can’t wait to see…” She broke off when the sound of men’s voices preceded the opening of Mitch’s door.

  The man who emerged from the office ahead of Mitch was good-looking, tall and lean, but the sight of him didn’t set Maggie’s heart to fluttering. That feat was accomplished by Mitch, coming to a halt in the doorway, his silvered eyes piercing hers before shifting to Karla.

  Mitch introduced the man as Ben Daniels, an old friend of the Grainger family. As greetings and handshakes were exchanged, Maggie couldn’t help but notice the flare of keen awareness in Ben’s eyes each time he looked at Karla.

  Interesting, Maggie thought. She wondered if Ben’s attention was personal in nature or mere curiosity at Karla’s obvious pregnancy and equally obvious lack of a wedding ring.

  “Karla, Ben will be in town a couple of weeks on vacation,” Mitch said. “I told him you had some brochures for the local attractions you could give him.”

  “Oh, sure, have a seat,” she invited, tearing her gaze from the man to reach for the bottom desk drawer.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Ben said, lowering his long frame into one of the chairs in front of her desk.

  “I’m going to get back to work, Ben,” Mitch said. “Stop by anytime, and good luck at the tables.” A slow grin curled his lips, and Maggie’s toes. “Except mine, of course.” With a casual wave of his hand, he turned away.

  Beginning to feel like the third wheel on a bicycle, Maggie moved to go to the small table she had used the previous week to fill out the job application.

  “Oh, Maggie, is there any coffee left?” Mitch asked, turning back into the doorway.

  “Yes.” Maggie glanced at the pot, noting that it had been sitting, with the warmer plate on, since that morning. “But it must be bitter by now,” she added. “Would you like me to make a fresh pot?”

  “Yes…if you don’t mind?” His tone and one arched brow had a sardonic cast.

  “Not at all,” Maggie said.

  “Thank you.” He again turned from the door.

  “You’re welcome.” Crossing to the coffee-maker, Maggie could hear Karla explaining to Ben Daniels the self-explanatory information contained in several different brochures.

  The two were still discussing the pros and cons of the various sights of interest when, a few minutes later, Maggie carried a fresh cup of coffee into Mitch’s office.

  “That smells good, thank you,” Mitch said as she set the cup close to hand on his desk. Inner amusement gave his gray eyes a teasing glimmer. “But I miss the caffeine kick.”

  Maggie laughed aloud. “I know what you mean. I fortified myself with two cups of the real thing at lunch.”

  “Lucky you. I guess that’s what I should have done.” He took a careful sip. “But this’ll do.”

  Taking that as a dismissal, Maggie nodded and turned to leave. “If you want a refill just…” she began, breaking off when she suddenly remembered the earlier call. “Oh, yes,” she said, turning back to face him. “Ms. Crane left a message requesting you return her call.”

  In the process of taking another sip of coffee, Mitch muttered something that sounded suspiciously like a suggestion as to what Ms. Crane could do to herself.

  “I beg your pardon?” Maggie said, positive she had not heard him correctly.

  “Never mind.” The glimmer in Mitch’s eyes took on a devilish glint. “I really don’t think you’d want to hear the remark repeated. I wouldn’t want to shock your delicate sensibilities.”

  So, she hadn’t misheard him, Maggie thought, giving him a droll look, and a dry-voiced response. “I suspect I’ve heard worse.”

  “Hmm,” he murmured, around the rim of the cup he’d raised to his mouth. He swallowed deeply and held the cup out. “Did you mention something about a refill?”

  “Yes.” Stepping forward, she reached for the cup. The tips of her fingers brushed the backs of his. The brief touch of his skin against hers caused a prickling sensation. It took all Maggie’s will to keep from pulling her hand back, out of harm’s way. “I’ll…er…be back in a minute,” she said, grasping the cup and hurrying from the room.

  Maybe it was her imagination, but Maggie could have sworn she heard the rich sound of his muffled laughter.

  To her surprise, Karla and Ben were still deep in conversation. Moving quietly, Maggie crossed to the coffeemaker and refilled Mitch’s cup. To her amusement, neither Karla nor Ben appeared to take notice of her as she returned to Mitch’s office.

  Once again, Maggie walked to his desk and set the cup close to hand, her spine tingling in response to the intentness of his steady gaze monitoring her every step.

  Damn, how was it that this man could make her feel all nervy and quivery just by looking at her? Maggie wondered, steeling herself to meet and hold his consuming stare.

  “Thank you.”

  The low, sexy sound of his voice shot adrenaline into her system. “You’re welcome,” she replied, despairing her own breathy, whispery tones. “Will there be anything else?”

  “Yes.” He smiled, slowly, sensuously, sending a silent message that raised the short hairs at her
nape. Picking up a sheaf of papers, he held them out to her. “This batch of correspondence requires only a general form-letter response. Karla will show you how it’s done.”

  Wonder of wonders, a boss who’ll answer the phone and sift through the correspondence, Maggie thought, careful not to touch him as she took the papers.

  Noting her reluctance to so much as brush his fingers with her own, Mitch’s eyes danced with deviltry.

  Torn between annoyance and amusement, Maggie beat a hasty retreat. This time she was certain she heard his soft laughter following in her wake.

  Shivering with sensitive awareness, of herself as a woman, of Mitch as a man in pursuit, Maggie breathed a sigh of relief as she shut his door behind her.

  Fortunately, Karla didn’t hear or even see her. Alone now in the office, the pregnant woman sat still as a stone, staring into space, a bemused expression on her pretty face.

  Maggie moved to the side of the desk. “Karla?”

  “Oh, Maggie.” Karla blinked and blushed.

  “You look strange,” Maggie said with concern. “Are you feeling all right?”

  “Yes…” she said, her cheeks glowing with color. “Yes, I’m fine. Really.” She laughed. “Ben’s invited the two of us to dinner. Please say you’ll go.”

  “Well, of course I’ll go, but…”

  “I think he’s terrific,” Karla quickly added. She glanced down at her protruding belly and sighed, her color fading. “And I believe he’s interested in you.”

  Maggie couldn’t help smiling at the very idea. It had been obvious to her that Ben had taken an immediate shine to Karla. “I seriously doubt that,” she said. “He barely looked at me. Perhaps he would just like some feminine company,” she suggested. “Since he’s here on his own.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” Karla agreed, brightening. “He’s so nice, soft-spoken and gentle.”

  “He’s a hellion,” Mitch said with hard-voiced conviction.

  Neither woman had heard him open his door. Maggie jumped. Karla squealed in shocked surprise.

  “Sorry if I startled you,” he apologized, while sounding not a bit sorry.

  “That was a terrible thing to say about Ben,” Karla reproached him, her eyes shadowed with disappointment. “I thought you said he was a family friend.”

  “He is, but that doesn’t change the fact that he was always a hellion and a devil with the ladies,” Mitch retorted. “Though I will admit that Justin claims Ben has changed his ways the past few years.”

  “Justin?” Maggie asked, frowning at the unfamiliar name, although it was really none of her business.

  “Justin Grainger.” Karla supplied the answer. “Mitch’s brother. He runs the family horse ranch in Montana.”

  “Ben works for Justin,” Mitch added.

  “Okay, I’ve got the picture,” Maggie said, puzzled by the whole conversation, though she did have some suspicions. “But why did you want us to know about Ben’s reputation?”

  Mitch favored her with a hard stare. “I overheard Karla say he had invited the two of you to dinner.”

  Bingo. Maggie arched a brow. “So?”

  His eyes narrowed. “I just thought you should know that he has a reputation so far as women are concerned.”

  “It’s only for dinner, Mitch,” Karla protested, her dejected tone a clear indication to Maggie that if he said she shouldn’t go, she wouldn’t.

  Like hell, Maggie thought. There was no way she was going to allow Mitch to dictate to either her or Karla as to how and with whom they spent their free time.

  “And we’re going,” Maggie stated, her voice firm with stark challenge.

  Hope flared to life in Karla’s eyes, cementing Maggie’s determination. It was all so silly, really, she thought, glaring at Mitch. What earthly harm could there be in having dinner with the man?

  To Mitch’s credit, he gave in gracefully. “Of course, I can’t stop you from going. What you two do on your own time is your business.”

  “That’s right, it is.” Maggie continued to hold his steady stare, which hadn’t softened a whit.

  “Just be careful,” he advised, turning to go back to his office.

  “I always am. And I’ll take care of Karla, too.” Maggie’s wry assurance stopped him in the doorway.

  “Hey,” Karla yelped. “I can take care of myself.”

  “Right,” he drawled, his gaze dropping to her distended belly.

  Karla blushed.

  Maggie bristled. “We all make mistakes,” she snapped in Karla’s defense, while reflecting on her own mistake in trusting Todd, convincing herself she’d been in love with him. “I’d wager even you have made your share.”

  “A few,” he admitted, closing the subject by stepping into his office and shutting the door.

  “Wow,” Karla said in admiration. “I’ve never heard anyone talk back to him like that before.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Maggie said, rolling her eyes. “He’s a man, not a god.”

  “He’s the boss,” Karla reminded her.

  “Not of my free time, or yours,” Maggie retorted. “And not over whomever we choose to spend that time with. However, we’re on his time now, so I guess we’d better get to work.”

  Dammit, he really screwed that one up, Mitch thought, cursing his heavy-handedness. He should have known Maggie would defy him, even on her very first day in the office. Hell, hadn’t she been silently challenging his authority since the first day she walked into the office? And hadn’t her open defiance been one of her attractions?

  Despite his frustration, Mitch had to chuckle. But his chuckle dissolved into a low growl at the very real possibility that Ben, like Mitch himself, had instantly developed an appreciation for Maggie’s many attractions. Why else would he have so quickly invited the women to have dinner with him?

  Mitch had already dismissed the notion that Karla might be the reason for Ben’s interest. Not because Karla was unattractive—she was a lovely young woman, inside and out. But, as she also was very pregnant, it stretched credulity to conclude that Ben’s gaze had skipped over Maggie to land on Karla.

  No, Mitch was convinced Ben had designs on Maggie, and the idea of them, possibly alone together in Maggie’s apartment after Karla had retired for the night, bugged the hell out of him.

  His imagination ran wild, and rather erotic, throughout that night…and the other two nights Ben escorted the two women during that week. Mitch knew about the successive dates, because the women talked freely about them. And, for all he knew, the three of them might well have gone traipsing off together over the weekend, as well.

  By the next Monday, Mitch was not in the best of moods or frame of mind. Seething inside at having his own plans for Maggie usurped by Ben’s appearance on the scene, he reacted by presenting a cool, remote demeanor in the office.

  Looking bewildered and apprehensive, Karla fairly tiptoed around him.

  Maggie, conversely, went about the business of learning her duties with commendable competence and a calm reserve belied by the glitter of defiance in her green eyes.

  In regard to her competence, Mitch had expected no less, after receiving that rave review from her former employer. Yet even so, he was impressed by her efficiency, her quick grasp of the day-to-day running of the business.

  As to the blatant defiance in Maggie’s eyes, her thinly veiled look of challenge each time their gazes met and locked, that both thrilled and annoyed him.

  It was a maddening situation for Mitch, as never before in his life had a woman so irritated him, while at the same time arousing within him such deep instincts of physical hunger and possessiveness.

  Something had to crack, and soon, Mitch decided. He only hoped that something wouldn’t be him.

  What on earth was the matter with the irascible man?

  Maggie asked herself that same question about Mitch Grainger at least a dozen times during those first two weeks of her employment with him.

  She was beginning to
wonder if Mitch could possess multiple personalities. It was the only thing she could think of to explain his sudden, inexplicable switches.

  With each successive day, Mitch was proving more difficult for Maggie to characterize. But he was definitely more complex than she had first believed. Bedrock-hard and tough? Yes, that he was. Somewhat arrogant and intimidating? That, too. A man definitely in control? In spades.

  On the other hand Mitch was not above preparing the morning coffee before she and Karla had arrived for work. He’d also answer the phone and sort through the mail whenever they were out of the office on some errand.

  In addition, it quickly became obvious to Maggie that there was a regularity to Mitch’s leaving his office for an hour or two every other day or so. The third time he did so, she voiced her curiosity about his purpose.

  “Oh, he’s making the rounds of the place, the other offices, the casino floor, even the bar and restaurant…keeping contact with the employees,” Karla told her. “Not checking up on them,” she quickly clarified. “But checking in with them, keeping the lines of communication open.”

  On a first-name basis, Maggie had thought, recalling her surprise on hearing everyone refer to Mitch that way. A two-way street of the trust and loyalty thing. Commendable…and also very smart.

  Almost against her will, Maggie felt a growing respect for the man, both as an employer and a male.

  Yet, at the same time her respect for him was growing, he continued to unsettle her. And the most baffling thing of all for Maggie was the complete change in his approach to her, from his initial droll, teasing attitude, to one of withdrawn, near icy remoteness.

  Yet for all his surface coldness and hard-edged tones, there was still a smoldering passion blazing from his silver-sheened eyes every time he captured her gaze.

  It was unnerving, because it excited Maggie so very much. It stirred her up inside, made her feel feverish and chilly at the same time.

  Maggie found the job as personal assistant to the C.E.O. of a gambling casino an interesting departure from her previous employment. But working for the icy-voiced, hot-eyed Mitch, eight hours a day, five days a week, was sheer torment with a generous dash of delicious danger. Each time she entered his office she was never quite certain of what he might say or—even more unsettling and secretly more exciting—what he might do.