"u6907e55d-f122-51f6-8cd8-7188359df065">
From New York Times bestseller Diana Palmer comes a reader-favorite story of a woman attempting to do the impossible: tame the roguish man she loves from afar…
There has only ever been one man for young Danetta Marist…but he’s the one she can never have. That’s gruff, handsome boss Cabe Ritter, whose mere glance makes her spine tingle and her heart race. And then there was that heart-stopping kiss in his office. But Danetta believes in marriage and happily-ever-afters. And everyone knows Cabe is a terrible womanizer...
Deep down, Cabe is no playboy. Long ago, he put up a facade to protect himself from any woman—like his alluring secretary—who wanted a commitment from him. Cabe knows that young, fresh and deliciously tempting Danetta has a lot to learn about love. But now that he has held her in his arms once, he decides that he’ll be the man to teach her...for the rest of their lives.
His Girl Friday
Diana Palmer
Contents
Danetta Marist glared at the closed office door with all her might. He could just sit in there until he took root and grew into his expensive gray leather chair for all she cared. He never made mistakes; she did. If something was missing, then she misplaced it.
“It isn’t worth putting up with you just to make car payments,” she informed the closed door. “I’m a great secretary. I could get work anywhere. All I have to do is reply to ads in the paper, and prospective bosses will trample you trying to get me to work for them, Mr. Cabe I-Am-The-Greatest Ritter!”
She tucked a loose strand of curly light brown hair back into its high coiffure and her gray eyes stared daggers at the elegant wood door of his office. She twirled a pen in her slender fingers while she thought about the advantages of typing her resignation and stuffing it up his arrogant nose. Well, she wasn’t apologizing to that bad-tempered ex-drill rigger, not for anything. It wasn’t her fault that he got the calendar dates mixed up and went to a business meeting at the wrong restaurant and lost an important contract. Was she to blame because he couldn’t read?
It was just like him to accuse her of doing it deliberately. He accused her of everything from stealing his pens to drinking his bourbon, and why she stuck with the job, she didn’t know.
The pay was good, of course. And he did let her have the occasional hour off during the week to go shopping. And he wasn’t really all that bad…
On the other hand, the office was forever full of salesmen speaking a strange language that seemed to have no relation whatsoever to English as they talked about various valves and parts of drill rigs and heavy equipment. Danetta knew how oil was removed from the ground, but the technical nature of her job was still Greek. She did know what a geologist’s survey looked like, and that the work the geologists did was top secret when they were looking for new oil fields. She knew that because her cousin Jenny, with whom she roomed, worked for Cabe Ritter’s father.
But despite her halting attempt to say so, Mr. Ritter’s oilman father, Eugene, who seemed to spend his life looking for new ways to upset Cabe, had taken up one of her lunch hours explaining a geologist’s duties, along with many other things she’d never wanted to know about the oil business. Eugene owned an oil company for which Cabe no longer worked. That defection into the oil rig equipment business was the source of most of the friction between the older Ritter and his son. Cabe had been certain that Eugene would go bust during the oil glut, but he hadn’t. The old man had made money because he had super geologists on his payroll who could find things like strategic metals that he could sell to the government. It was all sort of cloak-and-dagger, as she’d learned from her secretive cousin Jenny, but the discovery of the metals made money even when oil didn’t.
Danetta did nothing quite as adventurous and secretive as seeking important geological formations. She wrote up orders, took dictation, typed letters for her impatient boss, made appointments and caught hell on a regular basis. And when friends and family asked what the Ritter Equipment Corporation made and sold she just grinned and pretended to have gone deaf. Once, with a straight face, she actually told an uncle of hers that Cabe Ritter designed and built photon torpedoes. Unfortunately the uncle wasn’t a Star Trek fan, so things had gotten sticky for a few minutes, especially when the uncle happened to meet Cabe and remarked that he sure would like to see one of those planet-busters work.
“Can’t you read, for God’s sake!” Cabe Ritter broke into her thoughts as he muttered over the intercom. “Why didn’t you tell me I had a chamber of commerce meeting at noon? It’s ten minutes until twelve, and the restaurant where we meet is twenty minutes away and I’m the program chairman!”
With a sigh she pushed the appropriate button. “The meeting isn’t today, Mr. Ritter,” she said with forced pleasantness. “That’s tomorrow. You’re looking at the wrong date.” Again, she added under her breath. “This is April the tenth, not the eleventh.”
There was a brief pause. “Who turned
