went on one that took six months to extinguish. Add the money up on that.”
Kelly did some quick arithmetic. “No wonder all you guys go around driving Cadillacs and wearing eighteen-carat gold Rolex watches!”
“Money doesn’t buy everything.”
Kelly met his teasing blue gaze. “You’re right. Money never did buy my Dad or myself.”
“Didn’t think so.”
“Oh?”
He slowed the car down and pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. “I’d hate to be the man to make the mistake of trying to buy you,” he laughed. “You’d probably deck him.”
Kelly shot him a prim look. “I am a feminist, Mr. Tyler. But I don’t think it’s necessary to go around clubbing people to make myself understood.”
Sam enjoyed her quicksilver moodiness. One moment her green eyes sparkled with challenge; the next, with an angry golden flame of righteousness. “Okay,” he said, “I give up!” He got out and then leaned down. “I’ll be an MCP and open the car door for you.”
He was impossible! Kelly broke into laughter. “Okay, I give up too! Please, open the door for me. Despite this liberated day and age, I always have room for a gentleman in my life.”
His hand fitted perfectly in the small of her back as he guided her toward the restaurant. He stole a look down at her as he opened the door. She looked a hundred percent better than yesterday. “Tell me,” he murmured, “do you look great today because of a night’s sleep or me holding you?”
She shivered imperceptibly at the husky tone of his voice. Kelly had been unable to wipe Sam Tyler from her mind. And he knew she was attracted to him! Not wanting to give him an edge, she muttered, “I slept well, if you insist upon knowing.”
Sam guided her to a darkened booth. His clean white coveralls almost glowed in the dimly lit atmosphere of the restaurant. Shadows played across his face as he sat there watching her. He folded his large, callused hand around the glass of water the waitress set before him. Many small and some larger scars covered his fingers and the back of his hand. It was mute testimony to working around machinery and welding all of his adult life.
“I’m going to take the liberty of ordering lunch for you, Ms. Blanchard.”
She stared at him. “As a show of male force?”
A grin edged his strong mouth. “No, just so you can benefit from my good taste. Although—” he looked down at his coveralls—“you’d never know I have any taste from my present outfit.”
If he had said it any other way, she might have taken issue with his statement. “Let’s see what your taste is worth, Mr. Tyler,” she challenged softly.
“Okay. I think you’ll be pleased.”
After he gave the waitress their order, Sam became serious. His brows drew together slightly. “You look pretty happy compared to yesterday. Something good must have come out of that meeting with Boots and Coots this morning.”
She nodded, sipping the vodka gimlet she had ordered. “They’ve agreed to give me one more chance,” she explained. “I’m going to go on the next call.” She saw his face tense. “What’s wrong?”
He turned his cold mug of beer around in his hand, saying nothing for a moment. “They’re going to let you go on our next call?”
“Yes.”
“What if it’s to South America? Or to the Persian Gulf?”
“I don’t care where it is, Sam. I’ve got to see Blanchard pipe under field conditions. I want to be there in case something happens. I refuse to let one more person be hurt in the field because of our pipe. That’s a promise I made to myself.”
He watched her through hooded eyes. She had backbone. More than most men. “You’re still a woman in a man’s world, Kelly. God, I’d hate to think of the reaction of the Saudis if they saw you over there with us.”
Her emerald eyes flashed with fire. “Since when did God hand out brains just to men and not to women? I’ve been running the eastern region of Blanchard Pipe for the last seven years for my father. I know this business inside out from the regional level. The salesmen I deal with don’t care whether I wear a dress or pants.” That was a lie. But she didn’t care. Sam had picked a sore point with her and she would not apologize for her explosiveness on the topic. “I was born in Texas. I was raised around wildcat wells, roughnecks and this crazy industry of ours. Just because I moved to Pittsburgh when I married, that doesn’t rob me of my knowledge of the oil fields.” Her voice became less strident, more introspective. “My father’s name is solid in this business, Sam. I aim to carry on in the same fine tradition. I won’t have his reputation blackened by anything or anyone. And especially not by some male chauvinists who think that because I’m a woman I’m a harebrained idiot!”
“Hey,” he called softly, catching her startled gaze, “I’m on your side, Kelly. I believe in you. I’m just a little worried about some of the regions we might get called into. We’ll really be roughing it.”
Kelly sat up and squared her shoulders. “I don’t want to sound egotistical, Sam, but if I could survive the last year of my life in one piece, I can survive anything.” Her voice grew husky. “I had a husband who wanted to break me because I didn’t fit his idea of what a woman should be. Gage Wallace was trying to oust my ex-husband from their partnership. And on top of that, my father died a week ago.” Her lips thinned as she looked beyond him, fighting back tears. “Don’t worry about me surviving in the wilderness. That will be a piece of cake compared to everything else that has happened.”
He pulled a white handkerchief from his back pocket and placed it between them. “You know what I like about you?”
Kelly took the handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. “No. According to Todd, no man in his right mind would like anything about me. I’m too assertive. Too headstrong. Too—”
“I happen to applaud all those attributes,” he interrupted, catching the wariness in her eyes. “You’re a Texan. That says it all as far as I’m concerned. Your ex couldn’t have been born here.”
She returned the damp handkerchief. “No, he came from a very rich steel family in Pennsylvania.”
“Any children?”
Kelly shook her head. “No.”
“Every want a family?”
She managed a wry grimace. “Yes, if I can ever find a man who will be happy with me as I am.”
Sam allowed a hint of a smile. She was a woman who knew herself and had been unwilling to accept other people’s assessments of her abilities and talents. Now, she was wary of any male. “Don’t give up on all of us just yet,” he coaxed.
The waitress brought their lunch, interrupting their conversation. Sam was pleased with Kelly’s reaction to the Monk fish.
“It tastes like lobster!” she exclaimed.
“They call it ‘poor man’s lobster.’”
Kelly laughed. “You can’t be exactly poor working for Boots and Coots.”
“No, I’m not. But then, I don’t count happiness in terms of money, either.”
She was pleased with his answer. After barely eating during the last seven days, she was suddenly famished. Sam was right, she acknowledged, she was terribly underweight. Later they lingered over a light wine. Finally Kelly roused herself.
“How are you feeling?”
“The burns? Fine. Another five days and I can get rid of this damn sling.”
“I feel awful about—”
“You’ve apologized already,” he admonished.