The Honorable Texan, page 1
Praise for New York Times bestselling author Diana Palmer
“Palmer’s talent for character development and ability to fuse heartwarming romance with nail-biting suspense shines in Outsider.”
—Booklist
“A gentle escape mixed with real-life menace for fans of Palmer’s more than 100 novels.”
—Publishers Weekly on Night Fever
“The ever-popular and prolific Palmer has penned another sure hit.”
—Booklist on Before Sunrise
“Nobody does it better.”
—Linda Howard, New York Times bestselling author
“Readers who enjoy stories by authors who know how to pack an emotional wallop will add Palmer to their list.”
—Booklist on Renegade
“Nobody tops Diana Palmer when it comes to delivering pure, undiluted romance. I love her stories.”
—Jayne Ann Krentz, New York Times bestselling author
Dear Reader,
I can’t believe that it has been so many years since my first Long, Tall Texan book, Calhoun, debuted! The series was suggested by my former editor Tara Gavin, who asked if I might like to set stories in a fictional town of my own design. Would I! And the rest is history.
As the years went by, I found more and more sexy ranchers and cowboys to add to the collection. My readers (especially Amy!) found time to gift me with a notebook listing every single one of them, wives and kids and connections to other families in my own Texas town of Jacobsville. Eventually the town got a little too big for me, so I added another smaller town called Comanche Wells and began to fill it up, too.
You can’t imagine how much pleasure this series has given me. I continue to add to the population of Jacobs County, Texas, and I have no plans to stop. Ever.
I hope all of you enjoy reading the Long, Tall Texans as much as I enjoy writing them. Thank you all for your kindness and loyalty and friendship. I am your biggest fan!
Love,
The Honorable Texan
New York Times Bestselling Author
Diana Palmer
Two Heartfelt Stories
Blake and Rey
(Previously published as Boss Man and A Man of Means)
NOTE TO READERS
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Page numbers taken from the following print edition: ISBN 9781335994691
Contents
BLAKE Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
REY Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
A prolific author of more than one hundred books, Diana Palmer got her start as a newspaper reporter. A New York Times bestselling author and voted one of the top ten romance writers in America, she has a gift for telling the most sensual tales with charm and humor. Diana lives with her family in Cornelia, Georgia. Visit her website at dianapalmer.com.
Books by Diana Palmer
Long, Tall Texans
Lawbreaker
Fearless
Heartless
Dangerous
Merciless
Courageous
Protector
Invincible
Defender
Undaunted
Unbridled
Unleashed
Notorious
The Loner
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
Blake
CHAPTER ONE
Violet Hardy sat at her desk and wondered why she’d ever taken this secretarial job in the first place. Her boss, Jacobsville, Texas, attorney Blake Kemp, didn’t appreciate her at all. She’d only been trying to keep him from dying of a premature heart attack by changing his regular coffee to decaf. For her pains, she’d been on the receiving end of the worst insult she could ever imagine, and from the one man in the world she loved above all others. She knew her co-workers were as upset as she was. They’d been kindness itself. But nothing made up for the fact that Blake Kemp thought Violet was fat.
She looked down at her voluptuous body in a purple dress with a high neckline, frilly bodice and straight skirt, vaguely aware that the style did nothing for her. She would be wearing it today, of all days, when Kemp gave her that disapproving scrutiny. Her mother had tried to tell her, gently, that frills and big bosoms didn’t match. Worse, a tight-fitting skirt only emphasized those wide hips.
She’d been trying so hard to lose weight. She’d given up sweets, joined a gym, and worked hard at cooking regular and weight-conscious meals for herself and her elderly mother, who had a heart condition. Her father had died the year before of an apparent heart attack. But just lately there were rumors that her co-worker Libby Collins’s stepmother might be responsible for Mr. Hardy’s sudden death. Janet Collins had been suspected of poisoning an elderly man in a nursing home, and she’d taken Mr. Hardy for quite a sum of money before he died unexpectedly, just after being seen with her in a motel room. It had been too late for Mrs. Hardy to stop payment on the check, because she didn’t realize the money was missing until well after the funeral.
Violet and her mother had been devastated, not only by his loss, but by the disastrous financial condition he’d left behind. They’d lost their nest egg, their home, their car, everything. The woman who’d convinced Mr. Hardy to give her a quarter of a million dollars couldn’t be positively identified. And she’d run up accounts in department stores and even jewelry stores for which Mr. Hardy’s estate was suddenly responsible. Her mother had had the first stroke just after the funeral. Violet’s small, separate inheritance had been just enough to support them for a few months. But after it ran out, Violet had been forced to support them both. There had been a vacancy at Kemp’s office, working with Libby Collins and Mabel Henry. Fortunately, Violet had taken a business course in spite of her father’s disapproval. She’d never have to get a job, he’d said confidently.
It was nice working in Kemp’s office and she was a good secretary. But her boss didn’t appreciate her. Less today than ever before. She raged for five minutes, while her helpless co-workers listened and sympathized. She poured out her heart, including her feelings for her taciturn boss.
“Don’t take it so much to heart, dear,” Mabel said finally, sympathizing with her despair. “We all have bad days.”
“He thinks I’m fat,” Violet said miserably.
“He didn’t say anything.”
“Well, you know how he looked at me and what he insinuated,” Violet muttered, glaring down the hall.
Mabel grimaced. “He’s had a bad day.”
“So have I,” Violet said flatly.
Libby Collins patted her on the shoulder. “Buck up, Violet,” she said gently. “Just give it a couple of days and he’ll apologize. I’m sure he will.”
Violet wasn’t sure. In fact, she’d have bet money that an apology was the last thing on her boss’s mind.
“We’ll see,” she replied as she went back to her desk. But she didn’t believe it.
She pushed back her long dark hair and her blue eyes were tearful, although she was careful to conceal her hurt feelings. It was far worse than just his insinuation that she was overweight. She’d overheard Mabel and Libby whispering that the intercom had been on when Violet had poured out her heart to her co-workers after Kemp’s blistering attack over the decaffeinated coffee he’d been given. She was crazy about him. He’d heard that. How was she ever going to be able to face him again?
It was as bad as she feared. All day, he walked out to the front to meet clients, talk about appointments and get coffee. Every single time he walked in, he glared at Violet as if she were responsible for the seven deadly sins. She began to cringe when she heard his footsteps coming down the hall.
By the end of the day, Tuesday, she knew she couldn’t stay with him anymore. It was too humiliating all the way around. She was going to have to leave.
Libby and Mabel noticed her unusual solemnity. It got worse when she pulled a typed sheet from her printer, got up, took a deep breath, and walked down the hall to Kemp’s office.
Seconds later, they heard him. “What the hell…?”
Violet came stalking back down the hall, red-faced and unnerved, with an enraged Kemp, minus his glasses, two steps behind, waving the sheet of paper at her back.
“You can’t give me one day’s notice!” he raged. “I have cases pending. You’re responsible for sorting them out and notifying the petitioners…!”
She whirled, eyes flashing. “All that information is in the computer, along with the phone numbers! Libby knows what to do. She’s had to help me keep track of your cases when I had to be home with Mother during her last stroke! Please don’t pretend it matters who’s doing the typing or making the phone calls, because I know it doesn’t matter to you! I’m going to work for Duke Wright!”
He was seething, but he went suddenly quiet. “Going over to the enemy, then, Miss Hardy?”
“Mr. Wright is less excitable than you are, sir, and he won’t rage about coffee. In fact,” she said audaciously, “he makes his own!”
He looked for a retort, couldn’t think up one, mashed his sensuous lips together, let out a word under his breath that could have had him up for charges of harassment, and stomped back down the hall still clutching the single sheet of paper. As an afterthought, he slammed his door.
Libby and Mabel tried not to laugh. Mr. Kemp had thrown two people out of the office onto the sidewalk in less than a month. His temper had gone from bad to worse, and poor Violet had caught the worst of it. Now she was leaving and it would be lonely without her. Sadly, Libby thought, her own workload had just doubled.
* * *
Violet apologized to her co-workers, but insisted that she couldn’t take the working situation anymore. At the end of the day, she closed down her computer, noting that Mabel and Libby were both out the door before she could get her things together. Libby had already agreed to come back as soon as she had a bite to eat and finish up two cases that Kemp was presenting the next day. Violet would have offered to do it; poor Libby had problems of her own with her horrible stepmother trying to sell the Collins house out from under Libby and her brother, Curt. But Libby insisted she didn’t mind.
Violet shouldered into her long sweater-jacket just as Kemp came stalking down the hall, still in a temper, his pale blue eyes flashing behind his glasses, his lean face taut with anger, his dark wavy hair slightly mussed in back from his restless fingers.
He stopped and glared at her. “I hope I’ve made my point about the coffee,” he said bluntly. “Have you reconsidered your impulsive resignation, by the way?”
She swallowed. He’d made his point about a lot of things. She drew herself up to her full height and faced him bravely. “I have not. I’ll be leaving as soon as you can get a replacement, Mr. Kemp.”
His eyebrows arched. “Running away, Miss Hardy?” he asked sarcastically.
“You can call it that if you like,” she replied.
His eyes glittered, angered all out of proportion by the reply. “In that case, you can consider this your last day and forget the measly notice. I’ll get Libby to finish your work and I’ll mail your two weeks’ pay to you. If that’s satisfactory.”
Her face felt tight and uncomfortable at the taunting question, but she stood her ground. “That will be fine, Mr. Kemp. Thank you.”
He glared at her. He was furious that he couldn’t get a rise out of her. “Very well. Your office key, please.”
She fumbled it off her key chain and handed it to him, careful not to let her fingers touch his. Her heart was going to break in two when the shock wore off. But she was too proud to let him see how devastated she was.
He stared down at her dark head of hair as she placed the key in his fingers. He felt an unfamiliar, uncomfortable surge of loss. He couldn’t understand why. He had little to do with women these days, although he was only thirty-six. He’d lost the woman he loved years ago and had never had any inclination to risk his heart again.
Violet, however, threatened his freedom. She had a sort of empathy with people that was disturbing. She was easily hurt. He could see that this was killing her, being tipped out of his office, out of his life. But he had to let her go. She’d already gotten too close. He never wanted to feel again the pain of having his heart ripped out with the loss of a woman. His fiancée had died. He was through with love. So Violet had to go.
It was for the best, he told himself firmly. She was only infatuated with him. She’d get over it. He thought of how much she’d lost in the past year: her father, her home, her whole way of life. Now she had her invalid mother to care for, a burden she shouldered without a word of complaint. Now she had no job. He winced as he sensed the pain she must be feeling.
“It’s for the best,” he muttered uncomfortably.
She looked up at him, her blue eyes tragic in her rounded face. “It is?”
His jaw tautened. “You’re confused about your feelings. You’re only infatuated, Violet,” he said as kindly as he could, watching her face flush violently. “It isn’t love eternal, and there are eligible men elsewhere. You’ll get over it.”
Her lips actually trembled as she tried to find a comeback to that devastating revelation. She’d been afraid he’d overheard her confession of love, now she knew he had. His words made her feel like sinking into the floor. It was the worst humiliation she could ever remember feeling in her life. He couldn’t possibly have made his own feelings any clearer.
“Yes, sir,” she bit off, turning away. “I’ll get over it.”
She picked up her bits and pieces and moved toward the door. Predictably, he went to open it for her, a gentleman to the bitter end.
“Thank you,” she choked, her eyes averted.
“Are you certain that Duke Wright will hire you?” he asked abruptly.
She didn’t even look at him. “What do you care, Mr. Kemp?” she asked in a dull, miserable tone. “I’m out of your hair.”
She walked toward her car with her heart around her ankles. Behind her, a tall man stood watching, brooding, as she walked out of his life.
* * *
She’d forgotten the cake. She’d promised to drop it by the Hart ranch for Tess, but it was still sitting in Kemp’s office. She no longer had a key, and she’d rather have died than phoned him to let her in to get the cake. He’d think it was a ruse, so that she could see him again.
She stopped by the bakery instead and got another cake. Luckily for her, Tess didn’t want a message on it, just the cake. She stopped by the Hart ranch property at Tess and Cag’s enormous house and handed it off to their housekeeper, with a beaming smile that never reached her eyes. Then she went home.
* * *
Her mother was lying on the sofa, watching the last of her soap operas. “Hello, sweetheart,” she said, smiling. “Did you have a nice day?”
“Very nice,” Violet lied, smiling back. “How about you?”
“I’ve done very well. I made supper!”
“Mama, you aren’t supposed to exert yourself,” Violet protested, gritting her teeth.
“Cooking isn’t exertion. I do love it so,” the older woman replied, her blue eyes that were so like Violet’s sparkling with pleasure. Her hair was silver now, short and wavy. She lay on the sofa in an old gown and housecoat, her feet in socks. Nights were still chilly, even though it was April.
“Want to eat in here on trays?” Violet offered.
“That would be lovely. We can watch the news.”
Violet grimaced. “Not the news,” she groaned. “Something pleasant!”
“Then what would you like to watch? We’ve got lots of DVDs,” her mother added.
Violet named a comedy about a crocodile who ate people living around a lake.
Her mother gave her an odd look. “My, my. Usually when you want to watch that one, you’ve had an argument with Mr. Kemp.” She was fishing.
Violet cleared her throat. “We did have a little tiff,” she confessed, not daring to tell her mother that the family breadwinner was temporarily out of work.
“It will all blow over,” Mrs. Hardy promised. “He’s a difficult man, I imagine, but he’s been very kind to us. Why, when I had to go to the hospital last time, he drove you there and even sat with you until they got me over the crisis.”
“Yes, I know,” Violet replied, without adding that Mr. Kemp would do that for anybody. It didn’t mean anything, except that he had a kind heart.
“And then there was that huge basket of fruit he sent us at Christmas.” The older woman was still talking.
Violet was on her way to her bedroom to change into jeans and a sweatshirt. She wondered how she was going to get another job without naming Mr. Kemp as a reference. He might give her one. She just hated having to ask him to. She’d told her co-workers, and Kemp, that she was going to work for Duke Wright, but it had been a lie to save face.
“Going to the gym tonight?” her mother asked when she reappeared and rifled through the DVD stack for the movie she wanted.
