His Girl Friday

  "I—I'm Not The Kind Of Woman Who Inspires Violent Emotions,"

  Danet a stammered. "I'm old-fashioned and quiet and.. "

  "And exquisitely sexy," Cabe breathed as his mouth brushed softly against hers in a shocking, sweet contact. He tilted his head and searched her expres ion, as es ing her helples response with pure pleasure. His eyes were darker now, glit ering with emotion. He framed her face in his hands and drew her mouth up under his.

  "You said.. the other day. ." She faltered, trying to think, when al she knew was the warm whisper of his breath on her lips.

  "I said that once my mouth covered yours there was no going back," he murmured.

  Dear Reader:

  It's October and there's no stopping our men! October's Man of the Month comes from the pen of Leslie Davis Guccione, whose books about the Branigan brothers have pleased countles readers. Mr. October is Jody Branigan, and you can read al about him in Branigan's Touch.

  Coming in November is Shiloh's Promise by BJ James. You might remember Shiloh from his appearance in Twice in a Lifetime, We received so much positive feedback about this mesmerizing man that we knew he had to have his very own story—and that he'd make a perfect Man of the Monthl Needles to say, I think each and every Silhouet e Desire is wonderful. October and November's books are guaranteed to give you hours of reading pleasure. Enjoy!

  Lucia Macro Senior Editor

  DIANA PALMER

  HIS GIRL FRIDAY

  SILHOUETTE

  Published by Silhouet e Books New York

  America's Publisher of Contemporary Romance

  One

  Danet a Marist glared at the closed office door with al her might. He could just sit in there until he took root and grew into his expensive gray leather chair for al she cared. He never made mistakes; she did. If something was mis ing, then she misplaced it.

  "It isn't worth putting up with you just to make car payments," she informed the closed door. "I'm a great secretary. I could get work anywhere. Al I have to do is reply to ads in the paper, and prospective bosses wil trample you trying to get me to work for them, Mr. Cabe I-Am-The-Greatest Rit er!" She tucked a loose strand of curly light brown hair back into its high coiffure and her gray eyes stared daggers at the elegant wood door of his office. She twirled a pen in her slender fingers while she thought about the advantages of typing her resignation and stuffing it up his arrogant nose. Wel , she wasn't apologizing to that bad-tempered ex-dril rigger, not for anything. It wasn't her fault that he got the calendar dates mixed up and went to a busines meeting at the wrong restaurant and lost an important contract. Was she to blame because he couldn't read?

  It was just like him to accuse her of doing it deliberately. He accused her of everything from stealing his pens to drinking his bourbon, and why she stuck with the job, she didn't know.

  The pay was good, of course. And he did let her have the occasional hour off during the week to go shopping. And he wasn't real y al that bad.. On the other hand, the office was forever full of salesmen speaking a strange language that seemed to have no relation whatsoever to English as they talked about various valves and parts of dril rigs and heavy equipment. Danet a knew how oil was removed from the ground, but the technical nature of her job was stil Greek. She did know what a geologist's survey looked like, and that the work the geologists did was top secret when they were looking for new oil fields. She knew that because her cousin Jenny, with whom she roomed, worked for Cabe Rit er's father.

  But despite her halting at empt to say so, Mr. Rit er's oilman father, Eugene, who seemed to spend his life looking for new ways to upset Cabe, had taken up one of her lunch hours explaining a geologist's duties, along with many other things she'd never wanted to know about the oil busines . Eugene owned an oil company for which Cabe no longer worked. That defection into the oil rig equipment busines was the source of most of the friction between the older Rit er and his son. Cabe had been certain that Eugene would go bust during the oil glut, but he hadn't. The old man had made money because he had super geologists on his payroll who could find things like strategic metals that he could sel to the government. It was al sort of cloak and-dagger, as she'd learned from her secretive cousin Jenny, but the discovery of the metals made money even when oil didn't.

  Danet a did nothing quite as adventurous and secretive as seeking important geological formations. She wrote up orders, took dictation, typed let ers for her impatient boss, made appointments and caught hel on a regular basis. And when friends and family asked what the Rit er Equipment Corporation made and sold she just grinned and pretended to have gone deaf. Once, with a straight face, she actual y told an uncle of hers that Cabe Rit er designed and built photon torpedoes. Unfortunately the uncle wasn't a Star Trek fan, so things had gotten sticky for a few minutes, especial y when the uncle happened to meet Cabe and remarked that he sure would like to see one of those planet-busters work ,"Can't you read, for God's sake!" Cabe Rit er broke into her thoughts as he muttered over the intercom. "Why didn't you tel me I had a chamber of commerce meeting at noon? It's ten minutes until twelve, and the restaurant where we meet is twenty minutes away and I'm the program chairman!" With a sigh she pushed the appropriate button. "The meeting isn't today, Mr. Rit er," she said with forced pleasantnes . "That's tomorrow. You're looking at the wrong date." Again, she added under her breath. "This is April the tenth, not the eleventh."

  There was a brief pause. "Who turned the page?" the deep, slow drawl demanded.

  "I gues I did," she mumbled with resignation. "God knows, I turned loose the last hurricane that hit the coast and I'm sure I cause gingivitis and tooth decay—"

  "Shut up and come in here."

  She picked up her pad and pen, smoothing her skirt over her full hips and straightening her white midi blouse. She was tal , but she had a perfect figure and long, sexy legs. Her thick light brown hair reached to her waist when she let it down. She looked very pret y with it left long, but she always pulled it up into a chignon while she worked and she was careful not to apply more than a touch of makeup to her face, barely highlighting her soft, pale gray eyes with shadow. Her face was a perfect oval, and its gentlenes gave the skin a delicacy beyond words. She wasn't beautiful, but she was at ractive, and most bosses probably would have noticed her even though she didn't draw at ention to her as ets.

  She downplayed them because her boss was a womanizer, and she didn't want to risk her heart to him. She knew that she was vulnerable, because he'd given her a long, smoldering look last Christmas when she'd dres ed up for a party with some of the other office girls in the building. He'd captured her under the mistletoe just as she was leaving, and her heart had al but beat her to death when he bent his dark head toward hers, with his pale eyes glit ering on her soft mouth and no expres ion at al on his hard face. She knew she'd stopped breathing entirely. But to her surprise, he'd suddenly checked the downward movement of his head, muttered something under his breath and the kis had been redirected to land on her cheek. He'd walked away with a curt "Merry Christmas." After that, he'd suddenly started cal ing her "Dan" instead of "Mis Mar-ist" and treating her like a younger brother. She'd pretended not to notice, but since he'd made it so obvious that he wasn't going to make another pas at her, she'd never dres ed up since. It was safer to be his younger brother.

  Her parents in Mis ouri would have approved of her caution. He seemed to prefer blondes, and very sophisticated ones at that. He was quite openly a playboy, and that turned Danet a off completely. She'd never told him how she felt about his life-style, since it was none of her busines , but she'd never want to get serious about such a man. Anyway, she was only twenty-three to his thirty-six, and he seemed to think of her as a child because in the two years she'd worked for him, he'd ne
ver made a single real pas at her. He talked to her as if she were a younger man, about sports and sometimes even about his women. He didn't seem to notice that his bluntnes made her blush; he seemed to be talking more to himself than to her anyway.

  Lately he was dating a very elegant and cool blonde named Karol Sartain, and she'd set led him somewhat. He was much les restles than he'd been for the past few months, even if his temper was growing shorter by the day. Just yesterday, Danet a had caught him watching her with the oddest expres ion she'd ever seen. He'd looked at her as if he suddenly wished her in Siberia, and she didn't understand why.

  Wel , it was probably bet er that he disliked her. A man of his experience was hardly the perfect partner for a repres ed maiden who kept a giant lizard for a pet. She opened his office door and walked in. His sheer physical presence always took her breath away, especial y combined as it was with his spectacular good looks. He was tal and muscular, a big man with an aggres ive personality. He was a world-beater, and he looked it, with pale blue eyes that could burn holes in steel and thick, wavy dark hair that fel onto a broad forehead. He had thick black eyebrows over his deep-set eyes, and high cheekbones. His nose had been broken at least once, and his chin had a slight cleft and a couple of tiny scars etched into his dark complexion. But despite those slight flaws, he was devastating to look at, and women couldn't seem to resist him. He had al the charm in the world when he wanted something, and if that didn't work, he had fists like hams. He was afraid of nothing on earth. Except snakes. Danet a had never told him about her pet. She wondered if his fear ran to lizards.

  Muscles rippled when he moved. He was al muscle. He'd worked on dril rigs until he started his equipment company, and he looked like a crew chief. These days he didn't work on rigs, but when he was in a real y foul mood, he went out and worked it off on his father's ranch outside Tulsa. The elder Rit er had been a semipro basebal player back in the heyday of that sport, and he'd wisely invested his earnings in a smal ranch and a string of fil ing stations in Texas and Oklahoma. With keen busines sense, he'd parlayed that start into a succes ful oil busines and his son, Cabe, had helped until he'd decided to get away from his father's wel -meaning dominance and start his own company—

  which manufactured and sold parts for dril rigs.

  He'd been at it for ten years, quite succes fully, but his father annoyed him by never mentioning exactly what Cabe did for a living. In fact, by way of revenge, he liked to tel his friends that Cabe was a janitor at a local bar. Danet a hadn't understood the amazement of new clients at first when they realized whose son Cabe was—because old man Rit er was something of a legend in the oil busines , and many of his cohorts bought their parts from Cabe. But now that she was in on the joke, it was alternately amusing and exasperating.

  The elder Rit er had never quite approved of his son's independence. He liked running the whole show, and everyone's life that was in any way connected to his own. Just as his son did. When Eugene frequently visited Cabe at the office, he was full of helpful suggestions for Danet a. His last had been that she stop cal ing his son "Mr. Rit er" and concentrate on wearing clothes that emphasized her nice figure.

  "You'l never catch his eye that way, you know," the old man had muttered, clearly disapproving her neat skirt and blouse.

  "Mr. Rit er, I don't want to catch his eye," she'd replied. "He's not my type at al ."

  "You'd set le him," he continued as if she hadn't spoken, nodding his silver head as he towered over her, with eyes as pale a blue as Cabe's. "Keep him away from these party girls he takes around. He'l die of some god-awful disease, you know," he whispered conspiratorial y. "He doesn't even know where those girls have been!" At that point, Danet a had excused herself and made a dash for the rest room, where she collapsed against a wal in tears of hysterical laughter. She'd wanted so badly to tel her bos what his father had said about him, but didn't know how to bring up the subject.

  Cabe's curious scowl final y caught her at ention. "Wel , don't just stand there, Dan, sit down," he muttered, watching her watching him. "I don't know what's gotten into you lately, but your mind's just not on your work."

  Her eyebrows lifted sharply. "I beg your pardon?" she faltered, standing beside the chair across from his mas ive desk.

  "Sit!" he said shortly.

  She sat. The curt authority in that deep voice had the same effect on his male employees. He was so used to throwing out orders that he didn't have any inhibitions about doing it at restaurants, other peoples' parties—just about anywhere. Hostes es were said to sigh with relief when he left.

  "No wonder your father doesn't approve of you," she muttered. "You're just like him."

  "Insults are my line, not yours, kid," he reminded her. He leaned back in the chair and it squeaked alarmingly. He was no lightweight, even if it was al muscle. His pale blue eyes stared a hole through her. "You don't look very cheerful this morning. What's wrong?'

  "You had two bites out of me before I got in the door, and it wasn't my fault," she replied.

  "So? I have two bites out of you most mornings, don't I?" His eyes glit ered with faint humor. "It goes with the job description. You cried for the first two days you worked here."

  "I was scared to death of you those first two days," she recal ed.

  "Then you threw the desk calendar at me." He sighed. "It was nice, having a secretary who fought back. You've lasted a long time, Dan." Maybe too long, she wanted to say. But she didn't.

  "No comment?" He jerked forward in his chair with one of those lightning moves that always threw her off balance. For a big man, he was incredibly fast. "Look here, we've got to do something about my father."

  She blinked at the sudden change of subject. " We do?"

  He glared at her. "Yes, we. He's feeding the rumor mil again. His latest favorite bit of gos ip is that I'm looking for a wife. My phone rang off the hook last night with offers from the aged eligible of Tulsa."

  She grinned at his irritated expres ion. She could just see the spinsters get ing their arrows out. "You know why, don't you?" she asked. "You changed the lock on your apartment and now he doesn't have a key that fits."

  "My God, I had no privacy at al ! I had to do it. He was waiting for me at the apartment last Friday night," he said, his eyes narrowing angrily. "I took Karol home with me after dinner and there he stood, sharpening his knife on a whetstone. He took one hard look at her and invited himself for coffee and a drink. He didn't go home until after midnight. Meanwhile he treated Karol to a monologue on the fine art of castrating calves, mucking out stables and as orted other disgusting subjects that made her sick. She went home."

  "Oh, I can understand that," she agreed, trying to convince herself that it didn't mat er about Karol going home with him. It did irritate her, though, that she minded his careles at itude toward his conquests, when she should have been grateful that she wasn't among them. "I once heard him tel one of your women friends about the treatments you were taking for some contagious condition."

  His eyes widened. "It was Vera, wasn't it? Wasn't it? My God—" he banged his fist on the desk "—that's why she left in such a hurry and without saying goodbye! The venomous old snake!" Vera, Danet a recal ed, had been his steady date before Karol.

  "Is that any way to talk about your father, Mr. Rit er?" she asked gently.

  He gave her a tolerant stare. "Dan," he began, using the appal ing nickname that he and he alone had stuck her with, "when he was in here last week, one of the kinder things he said about you was that you dres ed as if you had pull at the Salvation Army surplus store."

  She was so insulted that she forgot to protest the destruction of her name. "The venomous old snake!" she exclaimed. He raised an eyebrow. "That's what I thought you said. Any ideas?"

  "None that won't get you arrested," she replied. "Why is he interfering so much lately?" He sighed, brushing a huge hand through his thick, wavy hair. "He thinks I need a wife. So he's going to find me one."

  "Maybe he's just bo
red," she murmured thoughtfully. "You could ask your stepmother to take him on a world cruise." His eyes hardened. "I have as lit le contact with my stepmother as pos ible," he said curtly.

  "Sorry." She knew that was a sore spot with him, but she didn't know why. He was a very private man in some ways. He shrugged. "I gues your parents are stil married?"

  She smiled. "Yes, sir, for thirty years last November."

  "Don't cal me sir," he said harshly. He broke a pencil and got to his feet, moving toward the window like a human steamroller while Danet a caught her breath at the bite in his voice. He pulled open the blinds and looked over the flat landscape of the city. "I don't want to get married. I don't want to love anyone." She stared at his broad back incomprehensibly.

  He fingered the blinds thoughtfully. "You haven't volunteered any information about Karol to my father, have you?" he asked suddenly, turning toward her. His height was intimidating when he loomed over her that way. She shifted gracefully in the chair. "No, si—" She cleared her throat. "No, Mr. Rit er. He did al the talking. As usual."

  "What did he say?"

  She muffled a giggle. "That you were going to catch some god-awful disease if he didn't save you from those women." She leaned forward. "You don't know where they've been, you see."

  He burst out laughing. The sound was deep and rich and pleasant, because he wasn't usual y a laughing man. It took some of the age from his hard face, made his blue eyes sparkle. She smiled at him because he looked wickedly handsome when he was amused.

  "So that's his angle. Maybe I can have a long talk with him about modern life."

  "That wil only work if you tie him up and gag him first."

  "He's confiding in you lately, is that it?" He pursed his lips and studied her with that quiet scrutiny that was becoming more and more frequent. "How old are you now, Dan?"

  "Twenty-three." And if you don't stop cal ing me Dan, I'm going to wrap you in cel ophane tape and hang you out the window, she added silently.