That Burke Man Read online

you. Sign your first name, not your last, to the fax. That way if anyone sees it, they'll just think I'm getting messages from a girlfriend."

  Miss Emory chuckled. "Yes, sir."

  He stacked the paperwork on the edge of the desk and left Miss Emory to deal with it. He had a feeling that she was going to earn more

  than her regular check for the next few

  weeks. He hoped he wasn't going to regret the decision that had taken him to Jacobsville.

  The executive vice president from SlimTogs leisure wear was a young woman named Micki Lane

  . She had a nice smile and a firm handshake.

  Jane liked her at once. Her companion, however, was another sort altogether. Rick Wardell was a high-powered promoter with a fixed smile and

  determination in every line of his body. He verbally pushed Micki to one side and began to outline what would be expected of Jane if the

  company decided to use her.

  Micki started to protest, but she was no match for Rick's verbal onslaught. Jane, however, was.

  She held up a firm hand when the man was in full spate. "Wait a minute," she said pleasantly. "I haven't said that I want or need to do this

  endorsement. Furthermore, I'm not endorsing anything that I haven't seen."

  "But we're very well-known," Rick said, sounding less confident than before.

  "Of course you're well-known to most people," Jane replied. "But not to the," she said emphatically. "I'm rodeo from the boots up. I come

  from a long line of rodeo people. That means that if I endorse a product, a lot of fans will buy it. I want to be sure that I'm putting my name on

  something that's attractive, fairly priced and durable."

  Rick's face tautened. "Listen, honey, you don't seem to understand that we're doing you a favor—" he began angrily.

  "Nobody calls the honey unless I say they can," Jane interrupted. "I'm no wallpaper girl." Jane's blue eyes were flashing like lightning, and

  the man's mouth closed abruptly as he realized that he'd overstepped the mark and the situation was deteriorating rapidly.

  Before Jane could say anything more, the borrowed car Todd was driving pulled up behind Rick's flashy little red

  SPORTS car. He got out and joined the small group, taking in the situation with one long look.

  "Burke! Glad you're here. I don't think Miss Parker understands what a favor we'd be doing her to put her name on this new line," Rick

  began, smiling as if he were certain that another man would surely side with him. "Maybe you can talk som sense into her."

  "Surely the 'favor' extends in both directions?" Todd in-terrupted suavely. "Or hasn't your sales manager told you that several boutiques

  are queueing up already to place orders for any merchandise endorsed by Jane Parker?"

  Rick laughed nervously. "Well, certainly, but..." He laughed again. "Perhaps we could start over?"

  Micki was standing near Jane, looking irritated.

  "Ms. Lane

  , isn't it?" Todd asked, and moved forward to shake hands with her. His eyes narrowed. "Excuse the, but I thought you were sent

  here to negotiate with Miss Parker?" He glanced pointedly toward Rick Wardell as he spoke.

  "I was," Micki replied. "Mr. Wardell is in charge of sales and promotion."

  Jane smiled at Rick. It wasn't a nice smile. She hadn't liked his condescending tone. "In order to have something to promote, I have to

  sign a contract. Frankly I don't think there's a chance in hell that it's going to happen. But it was nice of you to come out, Mr. Wardell. You, too,

  Miss Lane

  ."

  Micki stepped in front of Rick. "I'd like to show you our new line of jeans," she said quietly, "along with some of the new T-shirts we've

  adapted to imitate rodeo styling— with fringe and sequins and beads. They're machine-washable and guaranteed not to shrink or fade. I

  think you might like them."

  Jane was impressed. She smiled. "Well..."

  Micki glanced toward a very defensive-looking Rick, and the buried steel in her makeup began to show itself in her cool smile. "Mr. Wardell

  wanted to come along so that he

  could meet you. Now that he has, I'm sure that he won't mind leaving the contractual discussion in my hands. Will you, Mr. Wardell?" she

  added pointedly.

  He smiled uncertainly, then cleared his throat. "As you say, that might be best." He grinned, showing all his teeth. "Nice to have met you,

  Miss Parker, and I hope we'll be doing business. Burke." He nodded, still grinning, and turned to stride quickly back toward his sports car.

  "If I sign anything, it had better have a clause that that man isn't to come within shooting range of the," Jane said bluntly, glaring after

  him. "I hate being talked down to!"

  "Rick has his drawbacks, but he could sell ice to Eskimos. We're slowly drawing him into the twentieth century," Micki said with a grin. "I'll

  have a few words with the division boss about it when I get back. Meanwhile, couldn't I show you these samples, now that I'm here?"

  "Well...I guess so," Jane agreed.

  Micki smiled and went to get the case from her own car, a neat little tan sedan.

  "It seems as though I arrived in the nick of time," Todd said quietly.

  Jane looked up at him, still defensive. "Just in time to save that man's life, for a fact. The condescending, stuck-up son of a—"

  "He's a super salesman," he said pointedly. "He's a master at sucking up to people when he feels he has to."

  "He'll mink he's found lemon heaven if he tries it on the!"

  Todd chuckled. He liked the way she looked when she was animated. "You've got a temper."

  "No kidding!"

  "Calm down," he advised. "I won't try to force you to sign with them, but it would be to your advantage. The money for these repairs

  has to come from somewhere. This

  would almost pay for it. And if the line is as good as Micki says it is, you won't have a reason to refuse."

  "1 can give you a good one, and it drives a red sports

  "You won't even have to talk to him again. I promise."

  She eased up a little. "Well, if you promise."

  "That's the spirit."

  Micki came back, the sun shining on her sleek black hair. She was a pretty woman, slight and sedate looking, with dark eyes and an olive

  complexion. She smiled, and her eyes spar-kled.

  "Can we sit down?" she asked. "I've been on my feet all day and I'm tired."

  Probably, Jane thought sagely, because the woman could see that Jane was tiring as she leaned heavily on the crutches. Business sense and

  diplomacy were a nice mixture, and Jane knew even before she saw and approved of the clothing samples that she was going to sign that contract.

  She gave the contract to her attorney to look over, but she sent Micki off with her assurances that she would do the endorsement. Micki was

  relieved and elated when she shook hands with both of them and left. Todd watched her out the door, his lips pursed thoughtfully.

  "She isn't married," Jane remarked, aware of a faint twinge of jealousy that she was going to smother at once. "And she's very pretty."

  He turned, his hands deep in the pockets of his tan slacks. Muscles rippled in his long arms, emphasized by the clinging knit of his yellow sports

  shirt. "So she is," he agreed. "But she's off limits."

  "Why?"

  "I don't seduce business contacts," he said frankly. "It's bad for my image."

  Her eyebrows lifted. "I didn't know accountants worried about things like that."

  Business executives did. But he couldn't say it. He'd almost made a serious blunder. He laughed off his own remark. "I might work for her

  one day," he explained. "It's better if I don't get involved with potential bosses."

  "Or current ones?" She was fishing and grinning. "Thank
God!"

  He glowered at her. "There's no need to look so relieved."

  "Sorry. It slipped out. Erase it from your memory." She leaned back on the sofa and stifled a yawn. "It's been a long day. I'm sleepy."

  "Why don't you stretch out there and take a nap?" he asked. "I've got some figures to catch up and Meg and Tim have gone grocery

  shopping. You've got nothing to do, have you?"

  "Not right now, anyway." She stretched back onto the cushions, stifling a grimace. She was sore from the walking she'd done for the past

  two days on the crutches. "I suppose I'm a little less fit than I thought," she said with a self-conscious smile. She tucked a pillow under her

  head. "The crutches are hard going." Her eyes closed. "But I hate the wheelchair."

  "Go to sleep," he said gruffly. He stood there watching her, his eyes narrow on her pale face in its frame of long, silky blond hair. She did

  look like a fashion doll, all the way up and down, from her pretty face to her slender, curvaceious body and long, elegant legs. He liked the way

  she looked. But he couldn't afford to pay too much attention to it. This was a very temporary job, and soon he was going to be back in the fast

  lane. He had to be objective and remote.

  He turned and went into the study, closing the door gently. He had enough paperwork of his own to occupy him until supper, much less the

  additional burden of Jane's. It was a

  shame that things in his company had become complicated at just the wrong time. But he'd manage. The challenge was refreshing. He couldn't

  remember when he'd enjoyed himself

  so much.

  In the weeks that followed, a bond developed between Jane and Cherry. They were all but inseparable, especially out at the corral where Cherry

  worked on perfecting her technique on horseback. She was better. She had self-confidence and the turns weren't making her hesitate. She gave

  Feather her head and watched the little mare incredulously as she sailed through her paces.

  Jane was proud of her pupil, and that showed, too. She spent less time brooding about her slow progress and began to show marked

  improvement as her therapy sessions became fewer and farther between.

  Todd, on the other hand, was finding his job harder by the day. The paperwork and the building work were easy, but being close to Jane all

  the time was wearing him down. An accidental touch of their fingers sent his heart racing. A look that lingered too long made him tingle down to

  his toes. He found himself watching her for no reason at all, except that he liked to look at her. And his vulnerability made him bad-tempered.

  He was spending a lot of time with Micki Lane

  , going over the contracts with the attorneys before Jane signed them. She was pretty and interested

  in him, and he needed a diversion. So without counting the cost, he called her up and invited her to a dance.

  The dance at the Jacobsville Civic Center was one of the monthly events that passed for socializing in Jacobsville. Jane had gone to them

  frequently before her accident, often with Copper Coltrain. But she'd given up dancing because of her injury. When Cherry mentioned casually

  that her dad was taking that pretty leisure wear executive to it, Jane was unprepared

  for the surge of jealousy she felt. She liked Micki, but it was hard to think of her with Todd. At least, she thought miserably, she'd

  have Cherry for company.

  Only it didn't work out that way. Cherry accepted a last-minute invitation to spend the weekend with her mother and caught an early bus to

  Victoria. Then Tim and Meg announced that they'd be gone, too. Jane felt miserable and tried desperately not to show it. It seemed that

  everyone was going to desert her.

  Todd thought that Jane seemed pale when he was ready to leave to pick Micki up that evening. He paused with the car keys jingling in his

  pocket. "You don't mind being here alone?" he asked. He looked very attractive in tan slacks, cream-colored boots and a patterned Western

  shirt and black string tie.

  "Of course not," Jane said proudly. "I'm used to being by myself when Tim and Meg go to visit their daughter. They go at least one Saturday

  a month and they don't get in until late," she added.

  He looked concerned. He didn't like having her on her own so far from any neighbors.

  "This isn't a big city," she said, exasperated. "For heaven's sake, nobody's going to break in and kill the! I've got a shotgun over there

  behind the door, and I know how to use it!"

  "If you have time to load it," he muttered. "Do you know where the shells are?"

  She made a face. "I can find them if I have to."

  He threw up his hands. "Oh, that's very reassuring! I hope any potential intruders are polite enough to wait while you do that!"

  "I'm almost twenty-six years old!" she raged at him. "I can take care of myself without any tall, blond nursemaids!

  You just go on and mind your own business. I'm looking forward to a quiet evening with a good book!"

  I can see how that will benefit you," he said sarcasti-cally. He picked up the book on the table beside the end of the sofa where she was

  lounging in jeans and a loose green shirt. "A source book on the battle of the Alamo. How enlightening."

  "I like to read history," she said.

  "Romance novels might do you more good," he returned. • A little vicarious pleasure would be better than nothing, surely."

  Her blue eyes flashed. "If I want romance, I know where to go looking for it!"

  "I'm flattered," he said, deliberately provocative.

  "Not you," she said angrily. "Never you! That's wishful thinking on your part. You're not that attractive to the!"

  "Really?" He bent toward her. She averted her face, but he reached behind her head with a steely hand and turned her face up to his. She

  had one quick glimpse of flint-hard gray eyes before his hard mouth came down on hers.

  She reached up instinctively to push at him, but his teeth were nibbling her shocked, set lips apart. He tasted of mint and smelled of sexy

  cologne. The clean scents seduced her as much as the sharp, teasing movements of his mouth.

  Her fingers clenched on his shirtfront in token protest. She made a sound, but his free hand came to her throat and he began to smooth it in

  gentle caresses. She felt her breath catch as the lazy pressure of his mouth touched something hidden and secret, deep inside her body. She felt

  like a coiled spring that was suddenly loosened. Her quick intake of breath was echoed by the faint groan that pushed past his hard mouth into

  her parting lips.

  He caught her grasping fingers and spread them against the front of his soft shirt, moving them sensually from side to side over the hard,

  warm muscles. His breathing quickened,

  as did hers, and his hand moved to press her mouth closer into the demanding contact with his.

  Her faint whimper excited him. He gave in to the red-hot waves of pleasure, hardly aware that he'd moved until he felt her body under his as

  he eased down on the sofa with her.

  She felt the cushions at her back, his lean strength touching her from shoulders to thigh, his arms around her, his mouth touching and lifting,

  seducing, demanding in a silence so fraught with emotion that she could hear the sound of her own heartbeat.

  His hands were under her blouse, against the skin of her back, exploring her as if she belonged to him. One long leg was insinuating itself

  between both of hers, gently so as not to jar her, seductively slow.

  She managed to get a fraction of an inch between her mouth and his, and she struggled for breath and presence of mind.

  "No..." she whispered jerkily.

  His left hand tangled in her long hair while the right
one roughly unsnapped the pearly studs of his shirt. He was wearing nothing underneath

  the fabric, and without hesitation, he gently pushed her face against thick hair and clean, cologne-scented bare skin, coaxing her mouth to touch

  him just below his collarbone.

  She hadn't experienced that sort of intimacy. She fought it, trying to remember that he was on his way to another woman.

  He shifted, so that her lips were touching the hard, tight thrust of a male nipple. His hand, behind her head, guided her, insisted, without

  a single word.

  She was curious and attracted, so she did what he wanted her to do. She wasn't prepared for the ripple of muscle under her mouth or the soft,

  tortured moan that sounded above her head.

  She hesitated, but his hand contracted in her hair and he

  moaned again, shifting. She gave in, suckling him, tasting him in a heated interlude that made her lower body seem to swell with new

  sensations.

  Both his hands were in her hair now, guiding her mouth around the fascinating territory of his chest. It expanded violently as she kissed him,

  and he groaned even as he laughed at the delight her touch gave him.

  He moved to lie on his back, his mouth swollen, his eyes glittering with emotion, his chest bare and throbbing when she finally lifted her

  head to look down at him.

  He smiled with a kind of secret fever, stretching so that the shirt fell away. He arched, holding her eyes.

  She pressed both hands to the wall of his broad chest, testing the wiry silkiness of the hair that covered him, watching him watch her while

  she touched him exploringly.

  His hands pressed down over hers, holding them where his heart beat roughly, quickly, at his rib cage.

  "You don't even know what to do," he said half angrily. "Do you need an instruction manual?"

  She blinked, feeling sanity come back with a rush. Her hands jerked back and she gasped. She moved away from him and sat up,

  grimacing as the movement caught her painfully. She could only imagine how she must look with her hair disheveled and her mouth swollen

  and her face flushed. Her eyes were like saucers.

  He stared at her as if, for a moment, he didn't even recognize her. In fact, she hardly resembled the pale, composed woman he saw every

  day. He remembered her stinging comment and bending to kiss her in anger. Then the whole situation had gotten out of hand. How could he