Книга - Harden

Harden
Diana Palmer


HARD-HEARTED LONERBorn into a sprawling ranching family, rugged Harden Tremayne was the toughest, wildest man ever to come out of Texas cattle country. And the loneliest. Until he met Miranda Warren, the lovely Chicago widow who aroused feelings too long denied–and a yearning for something that could never be his….Miranda had never felt anything as overwhelming as her passion for the long, lean cowboy. But was her love enough to melt his hard, hungry heart and help them make a new life–together?







Born into a sprawling ranching family, rugged Harden Tremayne was the toughest, wildest man ever to come out of Texas. And the loneliest. Until he met Miranda Warren, the lovely Chicago widow who aroused feelings too long denied—and a yearning for something that could never be his…

Miranda had never felt anything as overwhelming as her passion for the long, lean cowboy. But Harden couldn’t give her the one thing she so desperately craved….

Then she discovered the tragic secret he harboured deep in his soul. She loved him…But was her love enough to melt his hard, hungry heart and help them make a new life—together?


Harden

THE

Essential COLLECTION

New York Times and USA TODAY Bestselling Author

Diana Palmer






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Dear Reader,

I really can’t express how flattered I am and also how grateful I am to Mills & Boon Books for releasing this collection of my published works. It came as a great surprise. I never think of myself as writing books that are collectible. In fact, there are days when I forget that writing is work at all. What I do for a living is so much fun that it never seems like a job. And since I reside in a small community, and my daily life is confined to such mundane things as feeding the wild birds and looking after my herb patch in the backyard, I feel rather unconnected from what many would think of as a glamorous profession.

But when I read my email, or when I get letters from readers, or when I go on signing trips to bookstores to meet all of you, I feel truly blessed. Over the past thirty years I have made lasting friendships with many of you. And quite frankly, most of you are like part of my family. You can’t imagine how much you enrich my life. Thank you so much.

I also need to extend thanks to my family (my husband, James, son, Blayne, daughter-in-law, Christina, and granddaughter, Selena Marie), to my best friend, Ann, to my readers, booksellers and the wonderful people at Mills & Boon Books—from my editor of many years, Tara, to all the other fine and talented people who make up our publishing house. Thanks to all of you for making this job and my private life so worth living.

Thank you for this tribute, Mills & Boon, and for putting up with me for thirty long years! Love to all of you.

Diana Palmer


New York Times and USA TODAYBestselling Author

Diana Palmer

The Essential Collection

Long, Tall Texans…and More!

AVAILABLE FEBRUARY 2011

CalhounTylerEthanConnalHardenEvan

AVAILABLE MARCH 2011

DonavanEmmettRegan’s PrideThat Burke ManCircle of GoldCattleman’s Pride

AVAILABLE APRIL 2011

The Princess BrideColtrain’s ProposalA Man of MeansLionheartedMaggie’s DadRage of Passion

AVAILABLE MAY 2011

LacyBelovedLove with a Long, Tall Texan (containing “Guy,” “Luke” and “Christopher”) Heart of IceNoelleFit for a KingThe Rawhide Man

AVAILABLE JUNE 2011

A Long, Tall Texan Summer (containing “Tom,” “Drew” and “Jobe”) NoraDream’s EndChampagne GirlFriends and LoversThe Wedding in White

AVAILABLE JULY 2011

Heather’s SongSnow KissesTo Love and CherishLong, Tall and Tempted (containing “Redbird,” “Paper Husband” and “Christmas Cowboy”) The AustralianDarling EnemyTrilby

AVAILABLE AUGUST 2011

Sweet EnemySoldier of FortuneThe Tender StrangerEnamoredAfter the MusicThe Patient Nurse

AVAILABLE SEPTEMBER 2011

The Case of the Mesmerizing BossThe Case of the Confirmed BachelorThe Case of the Missing SecretarySeptember MorningDiamond GirlEye of the Tiger


Table of Contents

Chapter 1 (#ud63e2338-ecf7-5a95-abf7-17bdd64af4a4)

Chapter 2 (#u840e8241-5c41-5203-a213-1ee47006e0be)

Chapter 3 (#udda0d3f7-c943-5ddc-9f2f-104854d9cdb7)

Chapter 4 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter 1

The bar wasn’t crowded. Harden wished it had been, so that he could have blended in better. He was the only customer in boots and a Stetson, even if he was wearing an expensive gray suit with them. But the thing was, he stood out, and he didn’t want to.

A beef producers’ conference was being held at this uptown hotel in Chicago, where he’d booked a luxury suite for the duration. He was giving a workshop on an improved method of crossbreeding. Not that he’d wanted to; his brother Evan had volunteered him, and it had been too late to back out by the time Harden found out. Of his three brothers, Evan was the one he was closest to. Under the other man’s good-natured kidding was a temper even hotter than Harden’s and a ferocity of spirit that made him a keen ally.

Harden sipped his drink, feeling his aloneness keenly. He didn’t fit in well with most people. Even his in-laws found him particularly disturbing as a dinner companion, and he knew it. Sometimes it was difficult just to get through the day. He felt incomplete; as if something crucial was missing in his life. He’d come down here to the lounge to get his mind off the emptiness. But he felt even more alone as he looked around him at the laughing, happy couples who filled the room.

His flinty pale blue eyes glittered at an older woman nearby making a play for a man. Same old story. Bored housewife, handsome stranger, a one-night fling. His own mother could have written a book on that subject. He was the result of her amorous fling, the only outsider in a family of four boys.

Everybody knew Harden was illegitimate. It didn’t bother him so much anymore, but his hatred of the female sex, like his contempt for his mother, had never dwindled. And there was another reason, an even more painful one, why he could never forgive his mother. It was much more damning than the fact of his illegitimacy, and he pushed the thought of it to the back of his mind. Years had passed, but the memory still cut like a sharp knife. It was why he hadn’t married. It was why he probably never would.

Two of his brothers were married. Donald, the youngest Tremayne, had succumbed four years ago. Connal had given in last year. Evan was still single. He and Harden were the only bachelors left. Theodora, their mother, did her best to throw eligible women at them. Evan enjoyed them. Harden did not. He had no use for women these days. At one time, he’d even considered becoming a minister. That had gone the way of most boyish dreams. He was a man now, and had his share of responsibility for the Tremayne ranch. Besides, he’d never really felt the calling for the cloth. Or for anything else.

A silvery laugh caught his attention and he glanced at the doorway. Despite his hostility toward anything in skirts, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. She was beautiful. The most beautiful creature he’d ever seen in his life. She had long, wavy black hair halfway down her back. Her figure was exquisite, perfectly formed from the small thrust of her high breasts to the nipped-in waist of her silver cocktail dress. Her legs were encased in hose, and they were as perfect as the rest of her. He let his gaze slide back up to her creamy complexion with just the right touch of makeup, and he allowed himself to wonder what color her eyes were.

As if sensing his scrutiny, her head abruptly turned from the man with her, and he saw that her eyes matched her dress. They were the purest silver, and despite the smile and the happy expression, they were the saddest eyes he’d ever seen.

She seemed to find him as fascinating as he found her. She stared at him openly, her eyes lingering on his long, lean face with its pale blue eyes and jet-black hair and eyebrows. After a minute, she realized that she was staring and she averted her face.

They sat down at a table near him. The woman had obviously been drinking already, because she was loud.

“Isn’t this fun?” she was saying. “Goodness, Sam, I never realized that alcohol tasted so nice! Tim never drank.”

“You have to stop thinking about him,” the other man said firmly. “Have some peanuts.”

“I’m not an elephant,” she said vehemently.

“Will you stop? Mindy, you might at least pretend that you’re improving.”

“I do. I pretend from morning until night, haven’t you noticed?”

“Listen, I’ve got to—” There was a sudden beeping sound. The man muttered something and shut it off. “Damn the luck! I’ll have to find a phone. I’ll be right back, Mindy.”

Mindy. The name suited her somehow. Harden twisted his shot glass in his hand as he studied her back and wondered what the nickname was short for.

She turned slightly, watching her companion dial a number at a pay phone. The happy expression went into eclipse and she looked almost desperate, her face drawn and somber.

Her companion, meanwhile, had finished his phone call and was checking his watch even as he rejoined her.

“Damn,” he cursed again, “I’ve got a call. I’ll have to go to the hospital right away. I’ll drop you off on the way.”

“No need, Sam,” she replied. “I’ll phone Joan and have her take me home. You go ahead.”

“Are you sure you want to go back to the apartment? You know you’re welcome to stay with me.”

“I know. You’ve been very kind, but it’s time I went back.”

“You don’t mind calling Joan?” he added reluctantly. “Your apartment is ten minutes out of my way, and every second counts in an emergency.”

“Go!” she said. “Honest, I’m okay.”

He grimaced. “All right. I’ll phone you later.”

He bent, but Harden noticed that he kissed her on the cheek, not the lips.

She watched him go with something bordering on relief. Odd reaction, Harden thought, for a woman who was obviously dating a man.

She turned abruptly and saw Harden watching her. With a sultry laugh she picked up the piña colada she’d ordered and got to her feet. She moved fluidly to Harden’s table and without waiting for an invitation, she sat down, sprawling languidly in the chair across from him. Her gaze was as direct as his, curious and cautious.

“You’ve been staring at me,” she said.

“You’re beautiful,” he returned without inflection. “A walking work of art. I expect everyone stares.”

She lifted both elegant eyebrows, clearly surprised. “You’re very forthright.”

“Blunt,” he corrected, lifting his glass in a cynical salute before he drained it. “I don’t beat around the bush.”

“Neither do I. Do you want me?”

He cocked his head, not surprised, even if he was oddly disappointed. “Excuse me?”

She swallowed. “Do you want to go to bed with me?” she asked.

His broad shoulders rose and fell. “Not particularly,” he said simply. “But thanks for the offer.”

“I wasn’t offering,” she replied. “I was going to tell you that I’m not that kind of woman. See?”

She proffered her left hand, displaying a wedding band and an engagement ring.

Harden felt a hot stirring inside him. She was married. Well, what had he expected? A beauty like that would be married, of course. And she was out with a man who wasn’t her husband. Contempt kindled in his eyes.

“I see,” he replied belatedly.

Mindy saw the contempt and it hurt. “Are you…married?” she persisted.

“Nobody brave enough for that job,” he returned. His eyes narrowed and he smiled coldly. “I’m hell on the nerves, or so they tell me.”

“A womanizer, you mean?”

He leaned forward, his pale blue eyes as cold as the ice they resembled. “A woman hater.”

The way he said it made her skin chill. She rubbed warm hands over her upper arms. “Oh.”

“Doesn’t your husband mind you going out with other men?” he asked mockingly.

“My husband…died,” she bit off the word. She took a sudden deep sip of her drink and then another, her brows drawn together. “Three weeks ago.” Her face contorted suddenly. “I can’t bear it!”

She got up and rushed out of the bar, her purse forgotten in her desperate haste.

Harden knew the look he’d just seen in her eyes. He knew the sound, as well. It brought him to his feet in an instant. He crammed her tiny purse into his pocket, paid for his drink, and went right out behind her.

It didn’t take him long to find her. There was a bridge nearby, over the Chicago River. She was leaning over it, her posture stiff and suggestive as she held the rails.

Harden moved toward her with quick, hard strides, noticing her sudden shocked glance in his direction.

“Oh, hell, no, you don’t,” he said roughly and abruptly dragged her away from the rails. He shook her once, hard. “Pull yourself together, for God’s sake! This is stupid!”

She seemed to realize then where she was. She looked at the water below and shivered. “I…wouldn’t really have done it. I don’t think I would,” she stammered. “It’s just that it’s so hard, to go on. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep…!”

“Committing suicide isn’t the answer,” he said stubbornly.

Her eyes glittered like moonlit water in her tragic face as she looked up at him. “What is?”

“Life isn’t perfect,” he said. “Tonight, this minute, is all we really have. No yesterdays. No tomorrows. There’s only the present. Everything else is a memory or a daydream.”

She wiped her eyes with a beautifully manicured hand, her nails palest pink against her faintly tanned skin. “Today is pretty horrible.”

“Put one foot forward at a time. Live from one minute to the next. You’ll get through.”

“Losing Tim was terrible enough, you see,” she said, trying to explain. “But I was pregnant. I lost the baby in the accident, too. I was…I was driving.” She looked up, her face terrible. “The road was slick and I lost control of the car. I killed him! I killed my baby and I killed Tim…!”

He took her by the shoulders, fascinated by the feel of her soft skin even as he registered the thinness of them. “God decided that it was his time to die,” Harden corrected.

“There isn’t a God!” she whispered, her face white with pain and remembered anguish.

“Yes, there is,” he said softly. His broad chest rose and fell. “Come on.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“Home.”

“No!”

She was pulling against his hand. “I won’t go back there tonight, I can’t! He haunts me….”

He stopped. His eyes searched her face quietly. “I don’t want you physically. But you can stay with me tonight, if you like. There’s a spare bed and you’ll be safe.”

He couldn’t believe he was making the offer. He, who hated women. But there was something so terribly fragile about her. She wasn’t sober, and he didn’t want her trying something stupid. It would lie heavily on his conscience; at least, that was what he told himself to justify his interest.

She stared at him quietly. “I’m a stranger.”

“So am I.”

She hesitated. “My name is Miranda Warren,” she said finally.

“Harden Tremayne. You’re not a stranger anymore. Come on.”

She let him guide her back to the hotel, her steps not quite steady. She looked up at him curiously. He was wearing an expensive hat and suit. Even his boots looked expensive. Her mind was still whirling, but she had enough sense left to realize that he might think she was targeting him because he had money.

“I should go to my own apartment,” she said hesitantly.

“Why?”

He was blunt. So was she. “Because you look very well-to-do. I’m a secretary. Tim was a reporter. I’m not at all wealthy, and I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about me.”

“I told you, I don’t want a woman tonight,” he said irritably.

“It isn’t just that.” She shifted restlessly. “You might think I deliberately staged all this to rob you.”

His eyebrows rose. “What an intriguing thought,” he murmured dryly.

“Yes, isn’t it?” she said wryly. “But if I were planning any such thing, I’d pick someone who looked less dangerous.”

He smiled faintly. “Afraid of me?” he asked deeply.

She searched his hard face. “I have a feeling I should be. But, no, I’m not. You’ve been very kind. I just had a moment’s panic. I wouldn’t really have thrown myself off the bridge, you know. I hate getting wet.” She shifted. “I really should go home.”

“You really should come with me,” he replied. “I won’t rest, wondering if you’ve got another bridge picked out. Come on. I don’t think you’re a would-be thief, and I’m tired.”

“Are you sure?” she asked.

He nodded. “I’m sure.”

She let him lead her into the hotel and around to the elevator. It was one of the best hotels in the city, and he went straight up to the luxury suites. He unlocked the door and let her in. There was a huge sitting room that led off in either direction to two separate bedrooms. Evan had planned to come up with Harden from Texas. At the last minute, though, there’d been an emergency and Evan had stayed behind to handle it.

Miranda began to feel nervous. She really knew nothing about this man, and she knew she was out of control. But there was something in his eyes that reassured her. He was a strong man. He positively radiated strength, and she needed that tonight. Needed someone to lean on, someone to take care of her, just this once. Tim had been more child than husband, always expecting her to handle things. Bills, telephone calls about broken appliances, the checkbook, groceries, dry cleaning, housekeeping—all that had been Miranda’s job. Tim worked and came home and watched television, and then expected sex on demand. Miranda hadn’t liked sex. It was an unpleasant duty that she tried to perform with the same resignation that she applied to all her other chores. Tim knew, of course he did. She’d gotten pregnant, and Tim hadn’t liked it. He found her repulsive pregnant. That had been an unexpected benefit. But now there was no pregnancy. Her hand went to her stomach and her face contorted. She’d lost her baby….

“Stop that,” Harden said unexpectedly, his pale blue eyes flashing at her when he saw the expression on her face. “Agonizing over it isn’t going to change one damned thing.” He tossed his hotel key on the coffee table and motioned her into a chair. “I keep a pot of coffee on. Would you like a cup?”

“Yes, please,” she said with resignation. She slumped down into the chair, feeling as if all the life had drained out of her. “I can get it,” she added quickly, starting to rise.

He frowned. “I’m perfectly capable of pouring coffee,” he said shortly.

“Sorry,” she said with a shy smile. “I’m used to waiting on Tim.”

He searched her eyes. “Had you trained, did he?” he asked.

She gasped.

He turned. “Black, or do you like something in it?”

“I…I like it black,” she stammered.

“Good. There’s no cream.”

She’d never been in a hotel penthouse before. It was beautiful. It overlooked the lake and the beachfront, and she didn’t like thinking about what it must have cost. She got to her feet and walked a little unsteadily to the patio door that overlooked Chicago at night. She wanted to go outside and get a breath of air, but she couldn’t get the sliding door to work.

“Oh, for God’s sake, not again!” came a curt, angry deep voice from behind her. Lean, strong hands caught her waist from behind, lifting and turning her effortlessly before he frog-marched her back to her chair and sat her down in it. “Now stay put,” he said shortly. “I am not having any more leaping episodes tonight, do you understand me?”

She swallowed. He was very tall, and extremely intimidating. She’d always managed to manipulate Tim when he had bad moods, but this man didn’t look as if he was controllable any way at all. “Yes,” she said through tight lips. “But I wasn’t going to jump. I just wanted to see the view—”

He cut her off. “Here. Drink this. It won’t sober you up, but it might lighten your mood a bit.”

He pushed a cup and saucer toward her. The smell of strong coffee drifted up into her nostrils as she lifted the cup.

“Careful,” he said. “Don’t spill it on that pretty dress.”

“It’s old,” she replied with a sad smile. “My clothes have to last years. Tim was furious that I wasted money on this one, but I wanted just one nice dress.”

He sat down across from her and leaned back, crossing his long legs before he lit a cigarette and dragged an ashtray closer. “If you don’t like the smoke, I’ll turn the air-conditioning up,” he offered.

“I don’t mind it,” she replied. “I used to smoke, but Tim made me quit. He didn’t like it.”

Harden was getting a picture of the late Tim that he didn’t like. He blew out a cloud of smoke, his eyes raking her face, absorbing the fragility in it. “What kind of secretary are you?”

“Legal,” she said. “I work for a firm of attorneys. It’s a good job. I’m a paralegal now. I took night courses to learn it. I do a lot of legwork and researching along with typing up briefs and such. It gives me some freedom, because I’m not chained to a desk all day.”

“The man you were with tonight…”

“Sam?” She laughed. “It isn’t like that. Sam is my brother.”

His eyebrows arched. “Your brother takes you on drinking sprees?”

“Sam is a doctor, and he hardly drinks at all. He and Joan—my sister-in-law—have been letting me stay with them since…since the accident. But tonight I was going home. I’d just come from an office party. I certainly didn’t feel like a party, but I got dragged in because everyone thought a few drinks might make me feel better. They did. But one of my coworkers thought I was feeling too much better so she called Sam to come and get me. Then I wanted to come here and try a piña colada and Sam humored me because I threatened to make a scene.” She smiled. “Sam is very straitlaced. He’s a surgeon.”

“You don’t favor each other.”

She laughed, and it was like silvery bells all over again. “He looks like our father. I look like our mother’s mother. There are just the two of us. Our parents were middle-aged when they married and had us. They died within six months of each other when Sam was still in medical school. He’s ten years older than I am, you see. He practically raised me.”

“His wife didn’t mind?”

“Oh, no,” she said, remembering Joan’s kindness and maternal instincts. “They can’t have children of their own. Joan always said I was more like her daughter than her sister-in-law. She’s been very good to me.”

He couldn’t imagine anybody not being good to her. She wasn’t like the women he’d known in the past. This one seemed to have a heart. And despite her widowed status, there was something very innocent about her, almost naive.

“You said your husband was a reporter,” he said when he’d finished his coffee.

She nodded. “He did sports. Football, mostly.” She smiled apologetically. “I hate football.”

He chuckled faintly and took another draw from his cigarette. “So do I.”

Her eyes widened. “Really? I thought all men loved it.”

He shook his head. “I like baseball.”

“I don’t mind that,” she agreed. “At least I understand the rules.” She sipped her coffee and studied him over the rim of the cup. “What do you do, Mr. Tremayne?”

“Harden,” he corrected. “I buy and sell cattle. My brothers and I own a ranch down in Jacobsville, Texas.”

“How many brothers do you have?”

“Three.” The question made him uncomfortable. They weren’t really his brothers, they were his half brothers, but he didn’t want to get into specifics like that. Not now. He turned his wrist and glanced at his thin gold watch. “It’s midnight. We’d better call it a day. There’s a spare bedroom through there,” he indicated with a careless hand. “And a lock on the door, if it makes you feel more secure.”

She shook her head, her gentle eyes searching his hard face. “I’m not afraid of you,” she said quietly. “You’ve been very kind. I hope that someday, someone is kind to you when you need help.”

His pale eyes narrowed, glittered. “I’m not likely to need it, and I don’t want thanks. Go to bed, Cinderella.”

She stood up, feeling lost. “Good night, then.”

He only nodded, busy crushing out his cigarette. “Oh. By the way, you left this behind.” He pulled her tiny purse from his jacket pocket and tossed it to her.

Her purse! In her desperate flight, she’d forgotten all about it. “Thank you,” she said.

“No problem. Good night.” He added that last bit very firmly and she didn’t stop to argue.

She went quickly into the bedroom—it was almost as large as the whole of the little house she lived in—and she quietly closed the door. She didn’t have anything to sleep in except her slip, but that wouldn’t matter. She was tired to death.

It wasn’t until she was almost asleep that she remembered nobody would know where she was. She hadn’t called Joan to come and get her, as she’d promised Sam she would, and she hadn’t phoned her brother to leave any message. Well, nobody would miss her for a few hours, she was sure. She closed her eyes and let herself drift off to sleep. For the first time since the accident, she slept soundly, and without nightmares.


Chapter 2

Miranda awoke slowly, the sunlight pouring in through the wispy curtains and drifting across her sleepy face. She stretched lazily and her eyes opened. She frowned. She was in a strange room. She sat up in her nylon slip and stared around her, vaguely aware of a nagging ache in her head. She put a hand to it, pushing back her disheveled dark hair as her memory began to filter through her confused thoughts.

She got up quickly and pulled her dress over her head, zipping it even as she stepped into her shoes and looked around for her purse. The clock on the bedside table said eight o’clock and she was due at work in thirty minutes. She groaned. She’d never make it. She had to get a cab and get back to her apartment, change and fix her makeup—she was going to be late!

She opened the door and exploded into the sitting room to find Harden in jeans and a yellow designer T-shirt, just lifting the lid off what smelled like bacon and eggs.

“Just in time,” he mused, glancing at her. “Sit down and have something to eat.”

“Oh, I can’t,” she wailed. “I have to be at work at eight-thirty, and I still have to get to my apartment and change, and look at me! People will stare…!”

He calmly lifted the telephone receiver and handed it to her. “Call your office and tell them you’ve got a headache and you won’t be in until noon.”

“They’ll fire me!” she wailed.

“They won’t. Dial!”

She did, automatically. He had that kind of abrasive masculinity that seemed to dominate without conscious effort, and she responded to it as she imagined most other people did. She got Dee at the office and explained the headache. Dee laughed, murmuring something about there being a lot of tardiness that morning because of the office party the night before. They’d expect her at noon, she added and hung up.

“Nobody was surprised,” she said, staring blankly at the phone.

“Office parties wreak havoc,” he agreed. “Call your brother so he won’t worry about you.”

She hesitated.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“What do I tell him?” she asked worriedly, nibbling her lower lip. “‘Hi, Sam, I’ve just spent the night with a total stranger’?”

He chuckled softly. “That wasn’t what I had in mind.”

She shook her head. “I’ll think of something as I go.” She dialed Sam’s home number and got him instead of Joan. “Sam?”

“Where the devil are you?” her brother raged.

“I’m at the Carlton Arms,” she said. “Look, I’m late for work and it’s a long story. I’ll tell you everything later, I promise…”

“You’ll damned well tell me everything now!”

Harden held out his hand and she put the phone into it, aware of the mocking, amused look on his hard face.

She moved toward the breakfast trolley, absently aware of the abrupt, quiet explanation he was giving her brother. She wondered if he was always so cool and in control, and reasoned that he probably was. She lifted the lid off one of the dishes and sniffed the delicious bacon. He’d ordered breakfast for two, and she was aware of a needling hunger.

“He wants to talk to you,” Harden said, holding out the phone.

She took it. “Sam?” she began hesitantly.

“It’s all right,” he replied, pacified. “You’re apparently in good hands. Just pure luck, of course,” he added angrily. “You can’t pull a stunt like that again. I’ll have a heart attack.”

“I won’t. I promise,” she said. “No more office parties. I’m off them for life.”

“Good. Call me tonight.”

“I will. Bye.”

She hung up and smiled at Harden. “Thanks.”

He shrugged. “Sit down and eat. I’ve got a workshop at eleven for the cattlemen’s conference. I’ll drop you off at your place first.”

She vaguely remembered the sign she’d seen on the way into the hotel about a beef producers seminar. “Isn’t the conference here?” she stammered.

“Sure. But I’ll drop you off anyway.”

“I don’t know quite how to thank you,” she began, her silver eyes soft and shy.

He searched her face for a long, long moment before he was able to drag his eyes back to his plate. “I don’t care much for women, Miranda,” he said tersely. “So call this a momentary aberration. But next time, don’t put yourself in that kind of vulnerable situation. I didn’t take advantage. Most other men would have.”

She knew that already. She poured herself a cup of coffee from the carafe, darting curious glances at him. “Why don’t you like women?”

His dark eyebrows clashed and he stared at her with hard eyes.

“It won’t do any good to glower at me,” she said gently. “I’m not intimidated. Won’t you tell me?”

He laughed without humor. “Brave this morning, aren’t we?”

“I’m sober,” she replied. “And you shouldn’t carry people home with you if you don’t want them to ask questions.”

“I’ll remember that next time,” he assured her as he lifted his fork.

“Why?” she persisted.

“I’m illegitimate.”

She didn’t flinch or look shocked. She sipped her coffee. “Your mother wasn’t married to your father.” She nodded.

He scowled. “My mother had a flaming affair and I was the result. Her husband took her back. I have three brothers who are her husband’s children. I’m not.”

“Was your stepfather cruel to you?” she asked gently.

He shifted restlessly. “No,” he said reluctantly.

“Were you treated differently from the other boys?”

“No. Look,” he said irritably, “why don’t you eat your breakfast?”

“Doesn’t your mother love you?”

“Yes, my mother loves me!”

“No need to shout, Mr. Tremayne.” She grimaced, holding one ear. “I have perfect hearing.”

“What business of yours is my life?” he demanded.

“You saved mine,” she reminded him. “Now you’re responsible for me for the rest of yours.”

“I am not,” he said icily.

She wondered at her own courage, because he looked much more intimidating in the light than he had the night before. He made her feel alive and safe and cosseted. Ordinarily she was a spirited, independent woman, but the trauma of the accident and the loss of the baby had wrung the spirit out of her. Now it was beginning to come back. All because of this tall, angry stranger who’d jerked her from what he’d thought were the waiting jaws of death. Actually jumping had been the very last thing in her mind on that bridge last night. It had been nausea that had her hanging over it, but it had passed by the time he reached her.

“Are you always so hard to get along with?” she asked pleasantly.

His pale blue eyes narrowed. Of course he was, but he didn’t like hearing it from her. She confused him. He turned back to his food. “You’d better eat.”

“The sooner I finish, the sooner I’m out of your hair?” she mused.

“Right.”

She shrugged and finished her breakfast, washing it down with the last of her coffee. She didn’t want to go. Odd, when he was so obviously impatient to be rid of her. He was like a security blanket that she’d just found, and already she was losing it. He gave her peace, made her feel whole again. The thought of being without him made her panicky.

Harden was feeling something similar. He, who’d sworn that never again would he give his heart, was experiencing a protective instinct he hadn’t been aware he had. He didn’t understand what was happening to him. He didn’t like it, either.

“If you’re finished, we’ll go,” he said tersely, rising to dig into his pocket for his car keys.

She left the last sip of coffee in the immaculate china cup and got to her feet, retrieving her small purse from the couch. She probably looked like a shipwreck survivor, she thought as she followed him to the door, and God knew what people would think when they saw her come downstairs in the clothes she’d worn the night before. How ridiculous, she chided herself. They’d think the obvious thing, of course. That she’d slept with him. She flushed as they went down in the elevator, hoping that he wouldn’t see the expression on her face.

He didn’t. He was much too busy cursing himself for being in that bar the night before. The elevator stopped and he stood aside to let her out.

It was unfortunate that his brother Evan had decided to fly up early for the workshop Harden was conducting on new beef production methods. It was even more unfortunate that Evan should be standing in front of the elevator when Harden and Miranda got off it.

“Oh, God,” Harden ground out.

Evan’s brown eyebrows went straight up and his dark eyes threatened to pop. “Harden?” he asked, leaning forward as if he wasn’t really sure that this was his half brother.

Harden’s blue eyes narrowed threateningly, and a dark flush spread over his cheekbones. Instinctively he took Miranda’s arm.

“Excuse me. We’re late,” he told Evan, his eyes threatening all kinds of retribution.

Evan grinned, white teeth in a swarthy face flashing mischievously. “You aren’t going to introduce me?” he asked.

“I’m Miranda Warren,” Miranda said gently, smiling at him over Harden’s arm.

“I’m Evan Tremayne,” he replied. “Nice to meet you.”

“Go home,” Harden told Evan curtly.

“I will not,” Evan said indignantly, towering over both of them. “I came to hear you tell people how to make more money raising beef.”

“You heard me at the supper table last month—just before you volunteered me for this damned workshop!” he reminded the other man. “Why did you have to come to Chicago to hear it again?”

“I like Chicago.” He pursed his lips, smiling appreciatively at Miranda. “Lots of pretty girls up here.”

“This one is off-limits, so go away,” Harden told him.

“He hates women,” Evan told Miranda. “He doesn’t even go on dates back home. What did you do, if you don’t mind saying? I mean, you didn’t drug him or hit him with some zombie spell…?”

Miranda shifted closer to Harden involuntarily and slid a shy hand into his. Evan’s knowing look made her feel self-conscious and embarrassed. “Actu-ally—” she began reluctantly.

Harden cut her off. “She had a small problem last night, and I rescued her. Now I’m taking her home,” he said, daring his brother to ask another question. “I’ll see you at the workshop.”

“You’re all right?” Evan asked Miranda, with sincere concern.

“Yes.” She forced a smile. “I’ve been a lot of trouble to Mr. Tremayne. I…really do have to go.”

Harden locked his fingers closer into hers and walked past Evan without another word.

“Your brother is very big, isn’t he?” Miranda asked, tingling all over at the delicious contact with Harden’s strong fingers. She wondered if he was even aware of holding her hand so tightly.

“Evan’s a giant,” he agreed. “The biggest of us all. Short on tact, sometimes.”

“Look who’s talking,” she couldn’t resist replying.

He glared down at her and tightened his fingers. “Watch it.”

She smiled, sighing as they reached his car in the garage. “I don’t guess I’ll see you again?” she asked.

“Not much reason to, if you don’t try jumping off bridges anymore,” he replied, putting up a cool front. Actually he didn’t like the thought of not seeing her again. But she was mourning a husband and baby and he didn’t want involvement. It would be for the best if he didn’t start anything. He was still wearing the scars from the one time he’d become totally involved.

“I had too much to drink,” she said after he’d put her in the luxury car he’d rented at the airport the day before and climbed in beside her to start the engine. “I don’t drink as a rule. That last piña colada was fatal.”

“Almost literally,” he agreed, glancing at her irritably. “Find something to occupy your mind. It will help get you through the rough times.”

“I know.” She looked down at her lap. “I guess your brother thinks I slept with you.”

“Does it matter what people think?”

She looked over at him. “Not to you, I expect. But I’m disgustingly conventional. I don’t even jaywalk.”

“I’ll square it with Evan.”

“Thank you.” She twisted her purse and stared out the window, her sad eyes shadowed.

“How long has it been?”

She sighed softly. “Almost a month. I should be used to it by now, shouldn’t I?”

“It takes a year, they say, to completely get over a loss. We all mourned my stepfather for at least that long.”

“Your name is Tremayne, like your brother’s.”

“And you wonder why? My stepfather legally adopted me. Only a very few people know about my background. It isn’t obvious until you see me next to my half brothers. They’re all dark-eyed.”

“My mother was a redhead with green eyes and my father was blond and blue-eyed,” she remarked. “I’m dark-haired and gray-eyed, and everybody thought I was adopted.”

“You aren’t?”

She smiled. “I’m the image of my mother’s mother. She was pretty, of course…”

“What do you think you are, the Witch of Endor?” he asked on a hard laugh. He glanced at her while they stopped for a traffic light. “My God, you’re devastating. Didn’t anyone ever tell you?”

“Well, no,” she stammered.

“Not even your husband?”

“He liked fair women with voluptuous figures,” she blurted out.

“Then he should have married one,” he said shortly. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“I’m flat-chested,” she said without thinking.

Which was a mistake, because he immediately glanced down at her bodice with a raised eyebrow that spoke volumes. “Somebody ought to tell you that men have varied tastes in women. There are a few who prefer women without massive…bosoms,” he murmured when he saw her expression. “And you aren’t flat-chested.”

She swallowed. He made her feel naked. She folded her arms over her chest and stared out the window again.

“How long were you married?” he asked.

“Well…four months,” she confessed.

“Happily?”

“I don’t know. He seemed so different before we married. And then I got pregnant and he was furious. But I wanted a baby so badly.” She had to take a breath before she could go on. “I’m twenty-five. He was the first man who ever proposed to me.”

“I can’t believe that.”

“Well, I didn’t always look like this,” she said. “I’m nearsighted. I wear contact lenses now. I took a modeling course and learned how to make the most of what I had. I guess it worked, because I met Tim at the courthouse while I was researching and he asked me out that same night. We only went together two weeks before we got married. I didn’t know him, I guess.”

“Was he your first man?”

She gasped. “You’re very blunt!”

“You know that already.” He lit a cigarette while he drove. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” she muttered, glaring at him. “But it’s none of your business.”

“Any particular reason why you waited until marriage?”

The glare got worse. “I’m old-fashioned and I go to church!”

He smiled. It was a genuine smile, for once, too. “So do I.”

“You?”

“Never judge a book by its cover,” he murmured. His pale eyes glanced sideways and he laughed.

She shook her head. “Miracles happen every day, they say.”

“Thanks a lot.” He stopped at another red light. “Which way from here?”

She gave him directions and minutes later, he pulled up in front of the small apartment house where she lived. It was in a fairly old neighborhood, but not a bad one. The house wasn’t fancy, but it was clean and the small yard had flowers.

“There are just three apartments,” she said. “One upstairs and two downstairs. I planted the flowers. This is where I lived before I married Tim. When he…died, Sam and Joan insisted that I stay with them. It’s still hard to go in there. I did a stupid thing and bought baby furniture—” She stopped, swallowing hard.

He cut off the engine and got out, opening the door. “Come on. I’ll go in with you.”

He took her arm and guided her to the door, waiting impatiently while she unlocked it. “Do you have a landlady or landlord?”

“Absentee,” she told him. “And I don’t have a morals clause,” she added, indicating her evening gown. “Good thing, I guess.”

“You aren’t a fallen woman,” he reminded her.

“I know.” She unlocked the door and let him in. The apartment was just as she’d left it, neat and clean. But there was a bassinet in one corner of the bedroom and a playpen in its box still sitting against the dividing counter between the kitchen and the dining room. She fought down a sob.

“Come here, little one,” he said gently, and pulled her into his arms.

She was rigid at first, until her body adjusted to being held, to the strength and scent of him. He was very strong. She could feel the hard press of muscle against her breasts and her long legs. He probably did a lot of physical work around his ranch, because he was certainly fit. But his strength wasn’t affecting her nearly as much as the feel of his big, lean hands against her back, and the warmth of his arms around her. He smelled of delicious masculine cologne and tobacco, and her lower body felt like molten liquid all of a sudden.

His fingers moved into the hair at her nape and their tips gently massaged her scalp. She felt his warm breath at her temple while he held her.

Tears rolled down her cheeks. She hadn’t really cried since the accident. She made up for it now, pressing close to him innocently for comfort.

But the movement had an unexpected consequence, and she felt it against her belly. She stiffened and moved her hips demurely back from his with what she hoped was subtlety. All the same, her face flamed with embarrassment. Four brief months of marriage hadn’t loosened many of her inhibitions.

Harden felt equally uncomfortable. His blood had cooled somewhat with age, and he didn’t have much to do with women. His reaction to Miranda shocked and embarrassed him. Her reaction only made it worse, because when he lifted his head, he could see the scarlet blush on her face.

“Thanks again for looking after me last night,” she said to ease the painful silence. Her hands slid around to his broad chest and rested there while she looked up into pale, quiet eyes in a face like stone. “I won’t see you again?” she asked.

He shook his head. “It wouldn’t be wise.”

“I suppose not.” She reached up hesitantly and touched his beautiful mouth, her fingertips lingering on the full, wide lower lip. “Thank you for my life,” she said softly. “I’ll take better care of it from now on.”

“See that you do.” He caught her fingers. “Don’t do that,” he said irritably, letting her hand fall to her side. He moved back, away from her. “I have to go.”

“Yes, well, I won’t keep you,” she managed, embarrassed all over again. She hadn’t meant to be so forward, but she’d never felt as secure with anyone before. It amazed her that such a sweeping emotion wouldn’t be mutual. But he didn’t look as if he even liked her, much less was affected by her. Except for that one telltale sign…

She went with him to the door and stood framed in the opening when he went out onto the porch.

He turned, his eyes narrow and angry as he gazed down at her. She looked vulnerable and sad and so alone. He let out a harsh breath.

“I’ll be all right, you know,” she said with false pride.

“Will you?” He moved closer, his stance arrogant, his eyes hot with feeling. His body throbbed as he looked at her. His gaze slid to her mouth and he couldn’t help himself. He wanted it until it was an obsession. Reluctantly he caught the back of her neck in his lean hand and tilted her face as he bent toward her.

Her heart ran wild. She’d wanted his kiss so much, and it was happening. “Harden,” she whispered helplessly.

“This is stupid,” he breathed, but his mouth was already on hers even as he said it, the words going past her parted lips along with his smoky breath.

She didn’t even hesitate. She slid her arms up around his neck and locked her hands behind his head, lifting herself closer to his hard, rough mouth. She moaned faintly, because the passion he kindled in her was something she’d never felt. Her legs trembled against his and she felt the shudder that buffeted him as his body reacted helplessly to her response.

He felt it and moved back. He dragged his mouth away from hers, breathing roughly as he looked down into her dazed eyes. “For God’s sake!” he groaned.

He pushed her back into the apartment and followed her, elbowing the door shut before he reached for her again.

He wasn’t even lucid. He knew he wasn’t. But her mouth was the sweetest honey he’d ever tasted, and he didn’t seem capable of giving it up.

She seemed equally helpless. Her body clung to his, her mouth protesting when he started to lift his. He sighed softly, giving in to her hunger, his mouth gentling as the kiss grew longer, more insistent. He toyed with her lips, teasing them into parting for him before his tongue eased gently past her teeth.

He felt her gasp even as he heard it. His hand smoothed her cheek, his thumb tenderly touching the corner of her mouth while his lips brushed it, calming her. She trembled. He persisted until she finally gave in, all at once, her soft body almost collapsing against him. His tongue pushed completely into her mouth and she shivered with passion.

The slow, rhythmic thrust of his tongue was so suggestive, so blatantly sexual, that it completely disarmed her. She hadn’t expected this from a man she’d only met the day before. She hadn’t expected her headlong reaction to him, either. She couldn’t seem to let go, to draw back, to protest this fierce intimacy.

She moaned. The sound penetrated his mind, aroused him even more. He felt her legs trembling against his blatant arousal, and he forced his mouth to lift, his hands to clasp her waist and hold her roughly away from him while he fought for control of his senses.

Her face was flushed, her eyes half closed, drowsy with pleasure. Her soft mouth was swollen, still lifted, willing, waiting.

He shook her gently. “Stop it,” he said huskily. “Or I’ll have you right here, standing up.”

She stared up at him only half comprehending, her breath jerking out of her tight throat, her heart slamming at her ribs. “What…happened?” she whispered.

He let go of her and stepped back, his face rigid with unsatisfied desire. His chest heaved with the force of his breathing. “God knows,” he said tersely.

“I’ve…I’ve never…” she began, flustered with embarrassment.

“Oh, hell, I’ve ‘never,’ either,” he said irritably. “Not like that.” He had to fight for breath. He stared at her, fascinated. “That can’t happen again. Ever.”

She swallowed. She’d known that, too, but there had been a tiny hope that this was the beginning of something. Impossible, of course. She was a widow of barely one month, with emotional scars from the loss of her husband and child, and he was a man who obviously didn’t want to get involved. Wrong time, wrong place, she thought sadly, and wondered how she was going to cope with this new hurt. “Yes. I know,” she said finally.

“Goodbye, Miranda.”

Her eyes locked with his. “Goodbye, Harden.”

He turned with cold reluctance and opened the door again. He could still taste her on his mouth, and his body was taut with arousal. He paused with the doorknob in his hand. He couldn’t make himself turn it. His spine straightened.

“It’s too soon for you.”

“I…suppose so.”

There had been a definite hesitation there. He turned and looked at her, his eyes intent, searching.

“You’re a city girl.”

That wasn’t quite true, but he obviously wanted to believe it. “Yes,” she said.

He took a slow, steadying breath, letting his eyes run down her body before he dragged them back up to her face.

“Wrong time, wrong place,” he said huskily.

She nodded. “Yes. I was thinking that, too.”

So she was already reading his mind. This was one dangerous woman. It was a good thing that the timing was wrong. She could have tied him up like a trussed turkey.

His gaze fell to her flat belly and it took all his willpower not to think what sprang to his mind. He’d never wanted a child. Before.

“I’ll be late for the workshop. And you’ll be late for work. Take care of yourself,” he said.

She smiled gently. “You, too. Thank you, Harden.”

His broad shoulders rose and fell. “I’d have done the same for anyone,” he said, almost defensively.

“I know that, too. So long.”

He opened the door this time and went through it, without haste but without lingering. When he was back in the car, he forced himself to ignore the way it wounded him to leave her there alone with her painful memories.


Chapter 3

Evan was waiting for Harden the minute he walked into the hotel. Harden glowered at him, but it didn’t slow the other man down.

“It’s not my fault,” Evan said as they walked toward the conference rooms where the workshop was to be held. “A venomous woman hater who comes downstairs with a woman in an evening gown at eight-thirty in the morning is bound to attract unwanted attention.”

“No doubt.” Harden kept walking.

Evan sighed heavily. “You never date anybody. You’re forever on the job. My God, just seeing you with a woman is extraordinary. Tell me how you met her.”

“She was leaning off a bridge. I stopped her.”

“And…?”

Harden shrugged. “I let her use the spare room until she sobered up. This morning I took her home. End of story.”

Evan threw up his hands. “Will you talk to me? Why was a gorgeous girl like that jumping off a bridge?”

“She lost her husband and a baby in a car accident,” he replied.

Evan stopped, his eyes quiet and somber. “I’m sorry. She’s still healing, is that it?”

“In a nutshell.”

“So it was just compassion, then.” Evan shook his head and stuck his big hands into his pockets. “I might have known.” He glanced at his half brother narrowly. “If you’d get married, I might have a chance of getting my own girl. They all walk over me trying to get to you. And you can’t stand women.” He brightened. “Maybe that’s the secret. Maybe if I pretend to hate them, they’ll climb all over me!”

“Why don’t you try that?” Harden agreed.

“I have. It scared the last one off. No great loss. She had two cats and a hamster. I’m allergic to fur.”

Harden laughed shortly. “So we’ve all noticed.”

“I had a call from Mother earlier.”

Harden’s face froze. “Did you?”

“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” his brother said. “She’s paid enough for what she did, Harden. You just don’t understand how it is to be obsessively in love. Maybe that’s why you’ve never forgiven her.”

Evan had been away at college during the worst months of Harden’s life. Neither Harden nor Theodora had ever told him much about the tragedy that had turned Harden cold. “Love is for idiots,” Harden said, refusing to let himself remember. He paused to light a cigarette, his fingers steady and sure. “I want no part of it.”

“Too bad,” Evan replied. “It might limber you up a bit.”

“Not much hope of that, at my age.” He blew out a cloud of smoke, part of his mind still on Miranda and the way it had felt to kiss her. He turned toward the conference room. “I still don’t understand why you came up here.”

“To get away from Connal,” he said shortly. “My God, he’s driving me crazy.”

Harden lifted an amused eyebrow. “Baby fever. Once Pepi gives birth, he’ll be back to normal.”

“He paces, he smokes, he worries about something going wrong. What if they don’t recognize labor in time, what if the car won’t start when it’s time to go to the hospital!” He threw up his hands. “It’s enough to put a man off fatherhood.”

Fatherhood. Harden remembered looking hungrily at Miranda’s waist and wondering how it would feel to father a child. Incredible thought, and he’d never had it before in his life, not even with the one woman he’d loved beyond bearing…or thought he’d loved. He scowled.

He had a lot of new thoughts and feelings with Miranda. This wouldn’t do. They were strangers. He lived in Texas, she lived in Illinois. There was no future in it, even if she wasn’t still in mourning. He had to bite back a groan.

“Something’s eating you up,” Evan said perceptively, narrowing one dark eye. “You never talk about things that bother you.”

“What’s the use? They won’t go away.”

“No, but bringing them out in the light helps to get them into perspective.” He pursed his lips. “It’s that woman, isn’t it? You saved her, now you feel responsible for her.”

Harden whirled, his pale blue eyes glaring furiously at the other man.

Evan held up both hands, grinning. “Okay, I get the message. She was a dish, though. You might try your luck. Donald and Connal and I can talk you through a date…and the other things you don’t know about.”

Harden sighed. “Will you stop?”

“It’s no crime to be innocent, even if you are a man,” Evan continued. “We all know you thought about becoming a minister.”

Harden just shook his head and kept walking. Surely to God, Evan was a case. That assumption irritated him, but he wouldn’t lower himself enough to deny it.

“No comment?” Evan asked.

“No comment,” Harden said pleasantly. “Let’s go. The crowd’s already gathering.”

Despite Harden’s preoccupation with Miranda, the workshop went well. He had a dry wit, which he used to his advantage to keep the audience’s attention while he lectured on the combinations of maternal and carcass breeds that had been so successful back home. Profit was the bottom line in any cattle operation, and the strains he was using in a limited crossbreeding had proven themselves financially.

But his position on hormone implants wasn’t popular, and had resulted in some hot exchanges with other cattlemen. Cattle at the Tremayne ranch weren’t implanted, and Harden was fervently against the artificial means of beef growth.

“Damn it, it’s like using steroids on a human,” he argued with the older cattleman. “And we still don’t know the long-range effects of consumption of implanted cattle on human beings!”

“You’re talking a hell of a financial loss, all the same!” the other argued hotly. “Damn it, man, I’m operating in the red already! Those implants you’re against are the only thing keeping me in business. More weight means more money. That’s how it is!”

“And what about the countries that won’t import American beef because of the implants?” Harden shot back. “What about moral responsibility for what may prove to be a dangerous and unwarranted risk to public health?”

“We’re already getting heat for the pesticides we use leaching into the water table,” a deep, familiar voice interrupted. “And I won’t go into environmentalists claiming grazing is responsible for global warming or the animal rights people who think branding our cattle is cruel, or the government bailing out the dairy industry by dumping their tough, used-up cows on the market with our prime beef!”

That did it. Before Harden could open his mouth, his workshop was shot to hell. He gave up trying to call for order and sat down to drink his coffee.

Evan sat back down beside him, grinning. “Saved your beans, didn’t I, pard?” he asked.

Harden gestured toward the crowd. “What about theirs?” he asked, indicating two cattlemen who were shoving each other and red in the face.

“Their problem, not mine. I just didn’t want to have to save you from a lynch mob. Couldn’t you be a little less opinionated?”

Harden shrugged. “Not my way.”

“So I noticed.” Evan stood up. “Well, we might as well go and eat lunch. When we come back we can worry about how to dispose of the carnage.” He grimaced as a blow was struck nearby.

Harden pursed his lips, his blue eyes narrowing amusedly. “And leave just when things are getting interesting?”

“No.” Evan stood in front of him. “Now, look here…”

It didn’t work. Harden walked around him and right into a furious big fist. He returned the punch with a hard laugh and waded right into the melee. Evan sighed. He took off his Stetson and his jacket, rolled up the sleeves of his white cotton shirt and loosened his tie. There was such a thing as family unity.

Later, after the police came and spoiled all the fun, Harden and Evan had a quiet lunch in their suite while they patched up the cuts.

“We could have been arrested,” Evan muttered between bites of his sandwiches.

“No kidding.” Harden swallowed down the last of his coffee and poured another cup from the carafe. He had a bruise on one cheek and another, with a cut, lower on his jaw. Evan had fared almost as badly. Of course, the competition downstairs looked much worse.

“You had a change of clothes,” Evan muttered, brushing at blood spots on his white shirt. “I have to fly home like this.”

“The stewardesses will be fascinated by you. You’ll probably have to turn down dates all the way home.”

Evan brightened. “Think so?”

“You look wounded and macho,” Harden agreed. “Aren’t women supposed to love that?”

“I’m not sure. I lost my perspective when they started carrying guns and bodybuilding. I think the ideal these days is a man who can cook and do housework and likes baby-sitting.” He shuddered. “Kids scare me to death!”

“They wouldn’t if they were your own.”

Evan sighed, and his dark eyes had a faraway look. “I’m too old to start a family.”

“My God, you’re barely thirty-four!”

“Anyway, I’d have to get married first. Nobody wants me.”

“You scare women,” Harden replied. “You’re the original clown. All smiles and wit. Then something upsets you and you lose your temper and throw somebody over a fence.”





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