Man In Control. Diana PalmerЧитать онлайн книгу.
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.
But she didn’t see any tall brunettes. What she did see, and what stopped her dead in her tracks, was a tall and striking dark-haired man in a gray vested business suit. A man with broad shoulders and narrow hips and big feet in hand-tooled leather boots. He turned, looking around, and spotted her. Even at the distance, those deep-set, cold green eyes were formidable. So was he. He looked absolutely furious.
She stood very still, like a woman confronted with a spitting cobra, and waited while he approached her with the long, quick stride she remembered from years of painful confrontations. Her chin lifted and her eyes narrowed. She drew in a quick breath, and geared up for combat.
Alexander Tyrell Cobb was thirty-three. He was a senior agent for the Drug Enforcement Administration. Usually, he worked out of Houston, but he was on vacation for a week. That meant he was at the family ranch in Jacobsville. He’d grown up there, with Margie, but their mother had taken them from their father after the divorce and had them live with her in Houston. It hadn’t been until her death that they’d finally been allowed to return home to their father’s ranch. The old man had loved them dearly. It had broken his heart when he’d lost them to their mother.
Alexander lived on the ranch sporadically even now, when he wasn’t away on business. He also had an apartment in Houston. Margie lived at the ranch all the time, and kept things running smoothly while her big brother was out shutting down drug smugglers.
He looked like a man who could do that single-handed. He had big fists, like his big feet, and Jodie had seen him use them once on a man who slapped Margie. He rarely smiled. He had a temper like a scalded snake, and he was all business when he tucked that big .45 automatic into its hand-tooled leather holster and went out looking for trouble.
In the past two years, he’d been helping to shut down an international drug lord, Manuel Lopez, who’d died mysteriously in an explosion in the Bahamas. Now he was after the dead drug lord’s latest successor, a Central American national who was reputed to have business connections in the port city of Houston.
She’d developed a feverish crush on him when she was in her teens. She’d written him a love poem. Alexander, with typical efficiency, had circled the grammatical and spelling errors and bought her a supplemental English book to help her correct the mistakes. Her self-esteem had taken a serious nosedive, and after that, she kept her deepest feelings carefully hidden.
She’d seen him only a few times since her move to Houston when she began attending business college. When she visited Margie these days, Alexander never seemed to be around except at Christmas. It was as if he’d been avoiding her. Then, just a couple of weeks ago, he’d dropped by her office to see Jasper. It had been a shock to see him unexpectedly, and her hands had trembled on her file folders, despite her best efforts to play it cool. She wanted to think she’d outgrown her flaming crush on him. Sadly, it had only gotten worse. It was easier on her nerves when she didn’t have to see him. Fortunately it was a big city and they didn’t travel in the same circles. But she didn’t know where Alexander’s office or apartment were, and she didn’t ask.
In fact, her nerves were already on edge right now, just from the level, intent stare of those green eyes across a crowded concourse. She clutched the handle of her wheeled suitcase with a taut grip. Alexander made her knees weak.
He strode toward her. He never looked right or left. His gaze was right on her the whole way. She wondered if he was like that on the job, so intent on what he was doing that he seemed relentless.
He was a sexy beast, too. There was a tightly controlled sensuality in every movement of those long, powerful legs, in the way he carried himself. He was elegant, arrogant. Jodie couldn’t remember a time in her life when she hadn’t been fascinated by him. She hoped it didn’t show. She worked hard at pretending to be his enemy.
He stopped in front of her and looked down his nose into her wide eyes. His were green, clear as water, with dark rims that made them seem even more piercing. He had thick black eyelashes and black eyebrows that were as black as his neatly cut, thick, straight hair.
“You’re late,” he said in his deep, gravelly voice, throwing down the gauntlet at once. He looked annoyed, half out of humor and wanting someone to bite.
“I can’t fly the plane,” she replied sarcastically. “I had to depend on men for that.”
He gave her a speaking glance and turned. “The car’s in the parking lot. Let’s go.”
“Margie was supposed to meet me,” she muttered, dragging her case behind her.
“Margie knew I had to be here anyway, so she had me wait for you,” he said enigmatically. “I never knew a woman who could keep an appointment, anyway.”
The carry-on bag fell over for the tenth time. She muttered and finally just picked the heavy thing up. “You might offer to help me,” she said, glowering at her companion.
His eyebrows arched. “Help a woman carry a heavy load? My God, I’d be stripped, lashed to a rail and carried through Houston by torchlight!”
She gave him a seething glance. “Manners don’t go out of style!”
“Pity I never had any to begin with.” He watched her struggle with the luggage, green eyes dancing with pure venom.
She was sweating already. “I hate you,” she said through her teeth as she followed along with him.
“That’s a change,” he said with a shrug, pushing back his jacket as he dug into his slacks pocket for his car keys.
A security guard spotted the pistol on his belt and came forward menacingly. With meticulous patience, and very carefully, Alexander reached into the inside pocket of his suit coat and produced his badge and ID. He had it out before the guard reached them.
The man took it. “Wait a minute,” he said, and moved aside to check it out over the radio.
“Maybe you’re on a wanted list somewhere,” Jodie said enthusiastically. “Maybe they’ll put you in jail while they check out your ID!”
“If they do,” he replied nonchalantly, “rent-a-cop over there will be looking for another job by morning.”
He didn’t smile as he said it, and Jodie knew he meant what he was saying. Alexander had a vindictive streak a mile wide. There was a saying among law enforcement people that Cobb would follow you all the way to hell to get you if you crossed him. From their years of uneasy acquaintance, she knew it was more than myth.
The security guard came back and handed Alexander his ID. “Sorry, sir, but it’s my job to check out suspicious people.”
Alexander glared at him. “Then why haven’t you checked out the gentleman in the silk suit over there with the bulge in his hatband? He’s terrified that you’re going to notice him.”
The security guard frowned and glanced toward the elegant man, who tugged at his collar. “Thanks for the tip,” he murmured, and started toward the man.
“You might have offered to lend him your gun,” she told Alexander.
“He’s got one. Of a sort,” he added with disgust at the pearl-handled sidearm the security guard was carrying.
“Men have to have their weapons, don’t they?” she chided.
He gave her a quick glance. “With a mouth like yours, you don’t need a weapon. Careful you don’t cut your chin with that tongue.”
She aimed a kick at his shin and missed, almost losing her balance.
“Assault on a law enforcement officer is a felony,” he pointed out without even breaking stride.
She recovered her balance and went out the door after him without another word. If they