Dear Reader,
I can hardly believe that Man in Control is my 100th book. In 1979, when I sold my first romance, I had very modest ambitions of being able to sell even one novel to a publisher. Beyond that, I assumed I would go on working as a newspaper reporter for the rest of my life.
You can’t imagine my astonishment when I queried Silhouette Books in 1980 and they accepted one of my novels for publication. This was before Silhouette merged with Harlequin Books, and it was one of the biggest milestones in my life. Heather’s Song, my Silhouette Special Edition novel published in 1982, followed two years after my greatest creative effort, our son, Blayne, who was born in 1980. Now it is twenty-three years later, and I have a hundred books under my belt.
There are a lot of people I have to thank for my success, besides God, my family and friends. First, my readers, who buy my books and make me feel as if I have talent. Second, my wonderful editors at Silhouette Books and MIRA Books, most especially my friend Tara Gavin, whose idea it was to create my own town in Texas and populate it with my characters. Third, the unsung heroes behind the scenes at Harlequin and Silhouette, which includes the associate editors and copy editors and artists and publicists who make me look so good. Fourth, Frank Yerby, one of the greatest historical novelists of the twentieth century, a fellow Georgian who encouraged me to follow my ambitions to publication. Last, but not least, bookstore owners and employees all over the world who stocked and recommended my books, and the tech reps who sell them to the bookstores and the distributors who send them out.
It takes a lot more than talent to get a hundred books in print. It takes a team of people. I am most fortunate to have Silhouette Books and MIRA Books and Harlequin Books as my publishers, and their wonderful employees who make me look better than I really am.
As I mark this great milestone in my career, I do it humbly and with great delight that I have found so many friends and fans in the world. As always, I am your greatest fan.
Love,
MILLS & BOON
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Man In Control
Diana Palmer
In loving memory of Diana Galloway
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Prologue
Alexander Tyrell Cobb glared at his desk in the Houston Drug Enforcement Administration office with barely contained frustration. There was a photograph of a lovely woman in a ball gown in an expensive frame, the only visible sign of any emotional connections. Like the conservative clothes he wore to work, the photograph gave away little of the private man.
The photograph was misleading. The woman in it wasn’t a close friend. She was a casual date, when he was between assignments. The frame had been given to him with the photo in it. He’d never put a woman’s photo in a frame. Well, except for Jodie Clayburn. She and his sister, Margie, were best friends from years past. Most of the family photos he had included Jodie. She wasn’t really family, of course. But there was no other Cobb family left, just as there was no other Clayburn family left. The three survivors of the two families were a forced mixture of different lifestyles.
Jodie was in love with Alexander. He knew it, and tried not to acknowledge it. She was totally wrong for him. He had no desire to marry and have a family. On the other hand, if he’d been seriously interested in children and a home life, Jodie would have been at the top of his list of potential mates. She had wonderful qualities. He wasn’t about to tell her so. She’d been hung up on him in the past to a disturbing degree. He’d managed to keep her at arm’s length, and he had no plans to lessen the space between them. He was married to his job.
Jodie, on the other hand, was an employee at a local oil corporation which was being used in an international drug smuggling operation. Alexander was almost certain of it. But he couldn’t prove it. He was going to have to find some way to investigate one of Jodie’s acquaintances without letting anyone realize they were being watched.
In the meantime, there was a party planned at the Cobb ranch in Jacobsville, Texas, on Saturday. He dreaded it already. He hated parties. Margie had already invited Jodie, probably because their housekeeper, Jessie, refused to work that weekend. Jodie cooked with a masterful hand, and she could make canapés. Kirry had been invited, too, because Margie was a budding dress designer who needed a friend in the business. Kirry was senior buyer for the department store where she worked. She was pretty and capable, but Alexander found her good company and not much more. Their relationship had always been lukewarm and even now, it was slowly fizzling out. She was demanding. He had enough demands on the job.
He put the picture facedown on his desk and pulled a file folder closer, opening it to the photograph of a suspected drug smuggler who was working out of Houston. He had his work cut out for him. He wished he could avoid going home for the party, but Margie would never forgive him. If he didn’t show up, neither would Kirry, and Alexander would never hear the end of it. He put the weekend to the back of his mind and concentrated on the job at hand.
One
There was no way out of it. Margie Cobb had invited her to a party on the family ranch in Jacobsville, Texas. Jodie Clayburn had gone through her entire repertoire of excuses. Her favorite was that, given the right incentive, Margie’s big brother, Alexander Tyrell Cobb, would feed her to his cattle. Not even that one had worked.
“He hates me, Margie,” she groaned over the phone from her apartment in Houston, Texas. “You know he does. He’d be perfectly happy if I stayed away from him for the rest of my natural life and he never had to see me again.”
“That’s not true,” Margie defended. “Lex really likes you, I know he does,” she added with forced conviction, using the nickname that only a handful of people on earth were allowed to use. Jodie wasn’t one of them.
“Right. He just hides his affection for me in bouts of bad temper laced with sarcasm,” came the dry reply.
“Sure,” Margie replied with failing humor.
Jodie lay back on her sofa with the freedom phone at her ear and pushed back her long blond hair. It was getting too long. She really needed to have it cut, but she liked the feel of it. Her gray eyes