Diana Palmer Collected 1-6. Diana Palmer

have to take up my time asking questions. Did you take care of Mrs. Turnbull’s divorce yesterday?”

      “Yes,” he murmured absently. “Judge Amherst called. He wants to discuss the Landers case with J.D. before he makes a decision about the trial date.”

      Gabby made a note of it.

      Dick was studying her closely. “You look bad.”

      She smiled. “Thank you. What a lovely thing to be told.”

      He flushed. “I mean, you look worn-out.”

      “You try crawling through a jungle on your belly with a rifle and see how you look,” she replied.

      “Jungle? On your belly? Why did you have a rifle?”

      She got up from her desk and started filing some folders that Dick had left there. “Ask J.D.”

      “But he isn’t here!”

      She glowered at the file folders. “Maybe he’s out buying a new crossbow,” she muttered.

      “A what?” But she didn’t hear him. He grumbled something and walked into his office, slamming the door behind him. She glanced over her shoulder. “Well, somebody’s in a snit,” she said to the filing cabinet.

      It was a good two hours before J.D. came in, looking as neat as a pin in his vested gray suit.

      “Any messages?” he asked Gabby, just as he used to.

      “No, sir,” she replied, and she sounded the same, too, except that she wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Dick took care of the Turnbull case for you, and Judge Amherst wants you to call him.”

      He nodded. “What have I got on the calendar for this afternoon?”

      “Mr. Parker is coming by at one to get you to draw up that incorporation for him, and you have three other appointments after him.”

      He turned toward his office. “Get your pen and pad and let’s get the correspondence out of the way.”

      “Yes, sir.”

      “Oh, there you are, J.D.,” Richard called from the doorway of his own office. “Welcome back. Would you tell me what happened? Gabby’s got a case of the clams.”

      “So have I,” J.D. informed him. “Everything’s okay. Martina and Roberto are back in Palermo by now, and the kidnappers were taken care of. How about lunch?”

      “Sorry,” Richard said, smiling. “I’ve got a luncheon appointment with a client. Rain check?”

      “Sure.”

      Gabby followed J.D. into the office and left the door open. If he noticed, or cared, he didn’t let on. He eased his formidable frame into the big swivel chair behind the desk.

      He started dictating and she kept her eyes on her pad until he finished. Her fingers ached and so did her back from sitting so straight, but she didn’t move an inch until he dismissed her.

      “Gabby,” he called as she started toward the door.

      “Yes, sir?”

      He fingered a pencil on his desk, and his dark eyes stared at it. “How’s your shoulder?” he asked.

      She shrugged. “It’s still a little sore, but I can’t complain.” She clasped the pad tightly against her breasts. She studied his impassive face quietly. “By the way, do you need written notice, or is a verbal one satisfactory?”

      His eyes came up. “Wait,” he said quietly.

      “I have to get another job. I can’t do that if I’m obligated to you for more than two weeks,” she said with remarkable calm.

      His jaw clenched. “You don’t have to quit.”

      “Like hell I don’t!” she returned.

      “Things will get back to normal!” he roared. “Is it too much to ask you to give it a chance? We got along well enough before!”

      “Yes, we did, before you treated me like a streetwalker!” she burst out.

      He saw the hatred in her eyes, in her rigid posture. His gaze fell to the pencil again. “You won’t be easy to replace,” he said in an odd tone.

      “Sure I will,” she said venomously. “All you have to do is call the agency and ask for somebody stupid and naïve who won’t get too close and loves being shot at!”

      His face paled. “Gabby…”

      “What’s going on?” Richard asked from the open door. He looked aghast. He’d never heard Gabby raise her voice in the two years he’d known her, and here she stood yelling at J.D. at the top of her lungs.

      “None of your business,” they chimed in together, glaring at him.

      He hunched his thin shoulders and grinned sheepishly. “Excuse me, I feel a sudden urge to eat lunch. Goodbye!”

      They didn’t even notice his leaving. J.D. glared at Gabby, and she glared back.

      “I’m too set in my ways to break in somebody new,” he said finally. “And you’d be bored to death working for anybody else and you know it.”

      “It’s my life,” she reminded him.

      He got up from the desk and she backed away, her eyes wide and angry and afraid. The fear was what stopped him in his tracks.

      “I wasn’t going to make a grab for you, Miss Darwin.”

      “Shall I drop to my knees and give thanks?” she asked, glaring back. “You’ll never make the list of the ten top lovers, that’s for sure.”

      “No, I don’t imagine so,” he said quietly. “But I didn’t realize how much I’d frightened you.” He studied her closely. “Gabby, I never meant to go that far.”

      “I wasn’t going to try to drag you in front of a minister,” she said, lowering her voice. “I was curious about you, just as you were curious about me. It’s over now. I don’t want ties, either.”

      “Don’t leave,” he said quietly. “I’ll never touch you again.”

      “That isn’t the point,” she told him, shifting restlessly from one foot to the other. “I…I don’t want to work for you anymore.”

      His dark eyes searched hers slowly, quietly. “Why?”

      That was rich. Was she going to tell him that her heart would break if she had to work with him day in and day out, loving him hopelessly, eating her heart out for him? That was what would happen, too. She’d go on mooning over him and never be able to date anybody else. Worse, she’d sit cringing as the days went by, wondering when he would throw it all in and rush back to First Shirt and Apollo. Now that he’d gotten a taste of the old, free life again, she had to expect that it would happen.

      “There’s no job security here,” she said finally, putting her nameless fears into mundane words that couldn’t possibly express her real feelings.

      “You’re guessing that I’ll go back to the old life?” he asked coldly.

      She shook her head. “No, J.D.—anticipating. Shirt said that you had the bug again,” she confided. “I want a dull, routine employer who won’t go rushing off to save the world at a minute’s notice.”

      His jaw tightened. “It’s my life. How I live it is my business.”

      “But of course,” she said with a sickeningly sweet smile. “That’s exactly what I meant. Out of sight, out of mind.”

      That made him angry. His dark eyes glittered as he scowled at her. “After what we shared in that room at Laremos’s house?” he asked bluntly.

      Her eyes narrowed. “Perhaps we’re thinking of different things,”