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  “No, the oil or gas company that calls us usually provides one. It might be privately owned or a commercial jet. Just depends upon the circumstances.”

  “And inside North America?”

  “We usually truck the equipment in, if possible.”

  Sam took her inside the huge twelve-thousand-foot warehouse. “In here we keep our piperack skids.” He stopped at the first immaculately painted piperack. “And naturally, as you can see, Blanchard Pipe is on it.”

  Kelly nodded, noting that the white twenty-foot-long pieces of pipe were neatly stacked on the outside of the unit. She was amazed at the economy and utilization of space. The inside of the until was a storehouse for large tools and parts. She poked her head inside one, finding an array of adapters, spanner wrenches, nozzles and various other tools she couldn’t identify. Sam patiently explained everything to her in layperson’s language.

  Afterward, she stood at the mouth of the warehouse, her gaze traveling over the foam units, the pumps and piperacks. “It’s impressive,” she stated quietly.

  Sam nodded, hands resting on his hips. “More impressive because everything you see here was designed and built by our own men at Boots and Coots.” Her eyes widened at his remark and he felt as though he might fall into their warm, inviting depths. “Remember, every man here at Boots and Coots is a specialist, Kelly. We have some who are designers, others who are ace welders, mud specialists, foam specialists. The list goes on but I don’t want to bore you with how good we are.”

  Kelly grinned. “No humble pie here at Boots and Coots, is there?”

  “Not a crumb. When you’re good, you’re damn good.”

  “And you’re the best.”

  Sam gave a satisfied nod of his head and led her back toward the air-conditioned coolness of the main office. “We get an average of sixty calls a year from around the world, so we can’t be too bad at what we do.”

  “Sixty?” she murmured. Walking back into the office, Kelly took a deep breath. With the Texas humidity of the Gulf Coast region, air conditioning was always a welcome blessing. She glanced up as Sam led her out toward the front desk. “That keeps you pretty busy, doesn’t it?”

  “A little,” he admitted.

  She frowned. Would she like her husband to be gone that much of the time each year? Kelly caught herself. What in the world was she thinking about! Upbraiding herself, she shoved the ridiculous thought out of her head. She became aware of Sam’s hand on her arm. It provoked a pleasant tingling sensation in her arm.

  “How about lunch? I’m starved.”

  Kelly hesitated. She enjoyed Sam’s company. He was good for her bruised, battered spirit. Yet…

  “Tell you what,” Sam added, “you haven’t been back in Texas long. How about if I take you to a good down-home place where they make some of the best ribs you’ve ever eaten? You can’t tell me you aren’t starved for some good Texas grub.”

  She opened her mouth and then closed it. “Has anyone ever told you that you could sell an igloo to an Eskimo, Mr. Tyler?” she asked.

  Sam gave her an irresistible look. “Just my charming personality, Ms. Blanchard.”

  Kelly had to stifle a smile as she settled back in the luxury of the white Cadillac. Today she felt like a child but dare she show it? “Are you always so affable?” she demanded.

  Sam gazed at her momentarily. “Usually. Why?” And then a twinkle came to his azure eyes. He leaned back and placed his right arm behind her shoulders—not touching her, but very close. He saw her eyes widen. In a deliberate motion, he briefly touched her cheek. Her skin was warm and pliant beneath his fingers. “There, does that confirm your suspicions that I’m out to get you?”

  Kelly swallowed hard, alarmed at the wonderful sensation created by his fingers negligently stroking her flesh. She turned so her back was against the door and she was as far away from him as she could get within the confines of the car. “What are you talking about?” she demanded. Her voice sounded ridiculously wispy. How could his touch evoke such a physical reaction from her? Kelly felt her hands growing damp and quickly put them in her lap.

  Sam withdrew his arm and studied her from beneath his thick, dark lashes. “Let’s level with one another, Kelly,” he began, his voice soft, cajoling. “I find you attractive, intelligent and damned exciting. You’re like no other woman I’ve ever met.”

  Fear surged through her. “I’m not up to playing whatever games you’ve got in mind, Sam.”

  “Why do you think I’m playing a game?” he asked quietly.

  Kelly struggled with a number of different retorts. “You wouldn’t understand!”

  “Try me.”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re a man. And men don’t understand!”

  Sam was aware of the intense emotion behind her blurted words. At that second, she looked so damned vulnerable and yet she was defiant too. Ever since he’d met her, he had searched his memory for scraps of information on her ex-husband, Todd Chandler. Todd had been an unwitting pawn of Gage Wallace’s. Chandler was known within the industry as a weakling. He was also known as a manipulator, although he lacked the finesse of a man like Wallace. As he studied Kelly, Sam wondered how Chandler had manipulated her feelings and emotions to make her distrustful of every man who might want to know her on a more personal level.

  “You don’t think a man can be honest, Kelly?” he prodded gently.

  She gave a stubborn shake of her head.

  “Because of your ex-husband?”

  Bitterness tinged her voice. “Yes.”

  “Any other man cause you to see all the rest of us in such a unfavorable light?”

  Her anger slowly abated. Kelly slumped back against the seat, eyes cast downward. “I owe you an apology,” she admitted quietly. And then she raised her chin and her flawless eyes met his azure gaze. “I’m jumpy, Sam. Todd wasn’t to be trusted—with anything. He took advantage of every opportunity to put me down.”

  “He wanted to mold you to fit his image of the perfect wife?”

  “Yes. That way, I guess I was less threatening to him.” Tears suddenly filled her eyes and she opened her hands in a silent plea. “Tell me, Sam, what is wrong with a woman trying to become her whole self? Why should I have to be a puppet or a reflection of some man’s ideals? Why can’t I be myself?”

  He reached out, gently running his fingers along her shoulder in a soothing motion. “Maybe I can put it into better perspective for you, Kelly.”

  She dashed the tears from her eyes. “I wish somebody would.”

  He gave her a tender look. “There are two types of males in the world, honey. One type are boys who grew into adult bodies but never left their immaturity, their brittle egos or childish games behind them. They’re the type of men who see women like yourself as a decided threat.” He caressed the nape of her neck, watching her visibly relax beneath his ministrations. “They might call you a tomboy, a feminist or macho. And by doing it, they’re showing their own stunted growth.”

  “But we women pay for their immaturity!”

  “Yes, but you’re going to have to persevere, Kelly. What choice do you have? If you want to explore your full potential, you have to doggedly bow your head and keep going. You can’t go back to what Todd tried to mold you into. You can’t stand still. I think you’re too excited by life to stand idly by.” His heart melted as her emerald eyes shone with the light of new discovery. It thrilled him to simply sit and exchange ideas and philosophies with her. She was a woman who was passionately emotional and yet intelligent too. “Anyway,” he went on in his Texas drawl, “the second type of male is a true adult. He is a person who is comfortable with himself, Kelly. He sees the world in subtler shades of gray than the boys. That type of man enjoys a woman who is getting in touch with herself. A mature man doesn’t find a woman such as yourself a threat.” He allowed a smile to tug at his mouth. “We see life as an adventure. One that we’d like to share with such a woman�
�.”

  Kelly stared at Sam. She had the distinct feeling he was talking directly to her about how he felt. Texas men were notorious for their chauvinism. But Sam was a breed apart. “I think you’re as different and unique as I am.”

  Sam smiled and brushed the back of his hand across her cheek. “We have the time to find out, don’t we?”

  Kelly nodded hesitantly, uncertain of all these new, unexpected feelings she was experiencing.

  “Now do you understand that when I say I find you attractive, intelligent and exciting it doesn’t just mean I want to take you to bed?”

  She felt heat sweeping across her neck and up into her face. “You do have a way with words, Tyler,” she shot back.

  Sam grinned, starting up the car. “I think you prize honesty above everything else, Kelly Blanchard. And I intend always to be honest with you.”

  She settled back and put on her seat belt. They drove in silence, leaving the sprawling skyline of Port Neches and then Houston in the distance. Kelly sat there digesting his words. He wanted her, but on all levels. Suddenly, her wariness of Sam evaporated. Taking a deep breath, she looked over at him as he drove.

  “How old are you?”

  “Thirty-five. Why?”

  “I was just wondering what it took for you to see women differently than most men do,” Kelly provided in explanation.

  “A set of parents that encouraged me and my sisters to do whatever we set our minds to. My father didn’t make a distinction between the children when a tire on the car had to be changed or something mechanical had to be fixed.”

  “So your sisters are…” She groped for the correct word.

  “Feminists? Yes, I would say they are. One is a veterinarian and the other is teaching computer science at a local college.” His blue eyes twinkled. “They remind me a lot of you: headstrong, courageous and outspoken.”

  “And you don’t find that a problem?”

  “Why are any of those qualities a problem, Kelly?”

  “Most men see them that way. That’s why.”

  “Do you think maybe you’re a little prejudiced about men in general?”

  Kelly gave a weak smile. “Touché, Sam Tyler. Touché.”

  “No one is keeping score,” he reminded her darkly.

  “Thanks,” she whispered, “I needed to know that.”

  Sam reached out, capturing her hand for just a moment and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I know.”

  Her fingers tingled where his hand had briefly rested. A crazy thought tore through her: what would it be like to be loved by Sam? If he was this understanding in conversation, he must be just as sensitive in lovemaking. Kelly flushed furiously over those thoughts. “Who developed your appreciation of women as real people?” she asked.

  “Like I said, it began with my parents. My mother had plenty to do with opening my eyes to the fact that women really weren’t the weaker of the species at all. And then, every woman I knew thereafter more or less honed my appreciation for the sex.”

  “I’ll bet there were plenty,” she muttered under her breath, more as a comment to herself than Sam.

  “Jealousy doesn’t become you,” he teased, smiling.

  Kelly returned the smile, feeling more free than she had in a long time. “No, it doesn’t. And I have a feeling that each woman was very special to you. You don’t seem the type to use a woman and then throw her away.”

  He pursed his lips. “Right again. But then, I look at both men and women in that light, Kelly. Every human being is unique. Of course,” he drawled, “redheaded woman are just more fascinating than anyone else.”

  Kelly laughed with him. “For once I’m glad I have red hair.”

  “So am I,” he returned cryptically.

  As the afternoon came to a close, Kelly didn’t want to return to her father’s home. Who could have made going out for barbecued spare-ribs an adventure? Sam Tyler did. At the door of the house, Kelly turned, looking up at Sam.

  “I think you know how wonderful today has been,” she said.

  Sam came to a stop, inches separating them. “I can say the same. Want to do it again sometime soon?”

  Kelly grinned, touching her stomach. “At least not for another week! I stuffed myself on those delicious ribs. I guess I just never realized how much I had missed Texas food.”

  He reached out and touched one of her curls. The sun glinted through the trees, leaving a pattern of dappled light on her head. “Do you realize,” he began huskily, “that in this light your hair is red, gold and copper?”

  His intimate comment made her heart pound unexpectedly. All day she had wanted to rest against his stalwart body and be held. Sam seemed to sense that her grief made her more vulnerable. More in need of someone. But not just anyone. Him. Kelly gazed up, meeting, holding Sam’s gaze. Her heart soared, her body responded as he drew his hand down her cheek, cupped her chin, and tilted her head up to meet his descending mouth.

  His breath was moist against her cheek as she closed her eyes, waiting…waiting. A tingle spread through her as his mouth brushed her lips. Touching, testing. He smelled wonderful. His arms slid around her body, drawing her against him. His hands moved down her torso to her hips. A soft moan of surrender sounded in her throat as his mouth moved masterfully across her lips, taking her, making her his in that fiery, breathless moment. Her heart raced wildly as his tongue outlined her lips momentarily, then lightly touched the corners of her mouth.

  He gently disengaged his arms. His large hands cradled her face and he deepened the kiss, his tongue seeking entrance to her mouth. She sagged against the hard oak of his body, craving further contact with him.

  Slowly, Sam broke the spell of the kiss. His breathing was irregular, his eyes narrowed and dark with desire as he stared down at her in silence. His callused fingers gently caressed her skin.

  He frowned, feeling her tremble. He knew that what they had shared had been mutual. Placing his arms comfortably around her back, he allowed Kelly to reorient herself. “I’ve been wanting to do that ever since that night I held you,” he admitted quietly.

  “I have to go, Sam,” she said faintly, pushing away from his solid body. Kelly felt him release her and she felt bereft. She tried to keep the hurt out of her voice. “It’s been a lovely day—”

  “With more to come,” he promised.

  Her lashes swept upward. Lord, he made her tremble from just his kiss! “Thanks for the day, Sam. I needed it.”

  He smiled and opened the door for her. “My pleasure. Mind if I give you a call sometime next week so we can share another day together?”

  Kelly shakily touched her temple, confused by the myriad of feelings exploding within her. “I won’t play games with you, Sam. I do enjoy your company, but right now…” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes momentarily. “Right now I’m scared to death. Of you. Of myself.”

  Sam nodded. “I understand. You want some breathing room.”

  “Yes.”

  He leaned down to place a kiss on her hair. “Okay, you’ve got it, my redheaded witch. You call me when you’d like some company.”

  Five

  Kelly glanced at her watch. It was four-thirty p.m. Thank God, the day was almost over. The sight of her watch reminded her of the gold Rolex Sam wore. A sign of good taste. Of class. Had a week and a half gone by since she’d last seen him? She stared sightlessly, wanting nothing more than a hot bath and bed. Filling in for her father had been tougher than she had anticipated. Each day was one scheduled meeting after another with management, supervisors and Blanchard sales personnel to establish new company policy.

  She gathered together another sheaf of papers that still needed her signature. Even with the demands of the job, she still found her thoughts returning to Sam Tyler.

  Since their luncheon, she had had no word from him. What had she expected? She had been the one to set the rules for their relationship. She knew he was divorced, but she wondered if he was seeing someone else. Probably a r
edhead, she thought ruefully, scratching her illegible signature on the last letter. Still, in the emptiness of her Dad’s elegant, hollow home, she had wished for his presence. He was easy to talk with and listen to. How vastly different he was from Todd, whose acid tongue and scathing retorts did nothing but increase her own defensiveness. She was glad those days were gone.

  “Ms. Blanchard?” Susan called, opening the office door. Her secretary wore an agitated expression.

  Before Kelly could answer, Gage Wallace deftly stepped past the secretary. His self-assured smile brought Kelly’s blood to a quick boiling point.

  “That’s all right, Susan,” Kelly reassured the distraught woman. “You can leave now. Thank you.”

  Gage turned, his dark eyes narrowed. In his hand he held a dozen red roses. “I just happened to be in the Houston area for the week, Kelly.” He approached her desk and placed the bouquet on it. “I know you’ll forgive me for dropping in without notice, but it’s almost quitting time. I’ve made reservations at the Royden Oaks Country Club for us tonight.”

  Her face grew tight, her emerald eyes flashing with barely contained anger. “You won’t give up, will you?” she hissed, clenching her fists at the sides of her lavender dress.

  Gage gave her a viperous smile. “You’re a little too confident of yourself under the circumstances, Kelly.”

  The coldness in his voice made her tremble inwardly but she was damned if he was going to know it. She jutted out her chin, placing her hands on her hips.

  “You’re not making sense—as usual.”

  “No?” One black brow rose. “As I predicted, word’s going around about Blanchard Pipe’s failures. You’re swimming into some very murky waters, Kelly. If you had any business sense at all, you’d let me buy into your company. I could bail you out with my good name.”

  She wanted to laugh. And then she wanted to curse him. She leaned forward, hands flat against her desk. “Get this straight, Gage. I want nothing, nothing from you! You found a way to get Todd out of your partnership and remove him. You got away with that. But you won’t pull that kind of maneuver on me. I wouldn’t care if you were the only steel and aluminum manufacturer in the country, I wouldn’t buy from you! Do I make myself perfectly clear?”