Man In Control

“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 ever suspended the rules for one day, she knew who she was going after!

Once they reached his car, an elegant white Jaguar S-type, he did put her bags in the trunk—but he left her to open her own door and get in. It wasn’t surprising to find him driving such a car, on a federal agent’s salary, because he and Margie were independently wealthy. Their late mother had left them both well-off, but unlike Margie, who loved the social life, Alexander refused to live on an inheritance. He enjoyed working for his living. It was one of many things Jodie admired about him.

The admiration didn’t last long. He threw down the gauntlet again without hesitation. “How’s your boyfriend?” he asked as he pulled out into traffic.

“I don’t have a boyfriend!” she snapped, still wiping away sweat. It was hot for August, even in south Texas.

“No? You’d like to have one, though, wouldn’t you?” He adjusted the rearview mirror as he stopped at a traffic light.

“He’s my boss. That’s all.”

“Pity. You could hardly take your eyes off him, that day I stopped by your office.”

“He’s handsome,” she said with deliberate emphasis.

His eyebrow jerked. “Looks don’t get you promoted in the Drug Enforcement Administration,” he told her.

“You’d know. You’ve worked for it half your life.”

“Not quite half. I’m only thirty-three.”

“One foot in the grave…”

He glanced at her. “You’re twenty-five, I believe? And never been engaged?”

He knew that would hurt. She averted her gaze to the window. Until a few months ago, she’d been about fifty pounds overweight and not very careful about her clothing or makeup. She was still clueless about how to dress. She dressed like an overweight woman, with loose clothing that showed nothing of her pretty figure. She folded her arms over her breasts defensively.

“I can’t go through with this,” she said through her teeth. “Three days of you will put me in therapy!”

He actually smiled. “That would be worth putting up with three days of you to see.”

She crossed her legs under her full skirt and concentrated on the road. Her eyes caressed the silky brown bird’s-eye maple that graced the car’s dash and steering wheel.

“Margie promised she’d meet me,” she muttered, repeating herself.

“She told me you’d be thrilled if I did,” he replied with a searing glance. “You’re still hung up on me, aren’t you?” he asked with faint sarcasm.

Her jaw fell. “She lied! I did not say I’d be thrilled for you to meet me!” she raged. “I only came because she promised that she’d be here when I landed. I wanted to rent a car and drive!”

His green eyes narrowed on her flushed face. “That would have been suicide,” he murmured. “Or homicide, depending on your point of view.”

“I can drive!”

“You and the demolition derby guys,” he agreed. He accelerated around a slow-moving car and the powerful Jaguar growled like the big cat it was named for. She glanced at him and saw the pure joy of the car’s performance in his face as he slid effortlessly back into the lane ahead of the slow car. He enjoyed fast cars and, gossip said, faster women. But that side of his life had always been concealed from Jodie. It was as if he’d placed her permanently off-limits and planned to keep her there.

“At least I don’t humiliate other drivers by streaking past them at jet fighter speed!” she raged. She was all but babbling, and after only ten minutes of his company. Seething inwardly, she turned toward the window so that she wouldn’t have to look at him.

“I wasn’t streaking. I’m doing the speed limit,” he said. He glanced at the speedometer, smiled faintly and eased up on the accelerator. His eyes slid over Jodie curiously. “You’ve lost so much weight, I hardly recognized you when I stopped by to talk to Jasper.”

“Right. I looked different when I was fat.”