Giant of Mesabi

Unwillingly her gaze slid to Rolt. Some time during the course of her meeting with Kurt, Rolt had lit a cigarette. It was between his fingers, gray smoke curling to screen his look. There was something indolent about his stance, the tailored jacket thrust open by the hand in his pocket.

"I think the lady is waiting to he kissed, Kurt." His low voice traveled across the room to taunt Alanna.

"I don't need to be prompted," Kurt laughed softly, apparently finding nothing offensive in his older brother's remark, but then he wasn't aware of what had transpired at the airport.

Kurt's sunny blue gaze hadn't strayed from her face. It continued to beam on her as his hands closed over her shoulders and drew her toward him. He would never understand her desire to avoid the kiss and she was loath to have to explain. Under the circumstances, there seemed little else she could do but lift her head for his kiss.

The pressure of his mouth warmly covering her own would have been something she normally would have cherished and returned. As it was, with Rolt watching them with bold indifference to his intruder status, it was impossible for Alanna to respond except in the most half-hearted manner.

When Kurt lifted his head, there was a perplexed light in his gaze as he searched her face. Knowing he couldn't have failed to notice her lack of response to his kiss, she tried to sidetrack his attention from the fact.

A fingertip lightly touched a corner of his mouth. "I'm afraid you have lipstick all over you," Alanna stated in a contrite tone.

"I don't mind," he smiled.

"Here." Rolt's voice broke into their private conversion. He moved to within a few feet of them, offering his linen handkerchief to Kurt. "Use mine. It's already soiled."

Both Alanna and Kurt glanced at the white cloth simultaneously. The beige-pink shade of her lipstick stained the material, contrasting sharply against the stark white. The freshness of her lipstick had probably smeared on Rolt's mouth too when he had forced his kiss on her, but Alanna had been too angry to notice. He had left her almost immediately to obtain her luggage. It must have been during his absence from her that he had used the handkerchief to wipe away her lipstick traces.

Rolt had given the same handkerchief to Kurt. Realization flashed through A

lanna that he had done it deliberately. In his own cunning way he had set up the incident, first prompting Alanna to freshen her makeup, then prompting Kurt to kiss her. Now he had produced the handkerchief to show his younger brother that he had kissed his girl.

As Kurt rather numbly took the handkerchief, his gaze riveted on the lipstick traces, Alanna sent Rolt a killing look. But his heart was encased in iron and it deflected her invisible daggers, leaving a bemused light in his hooded look.

Kurt rubbed the cloth over his mouth, briefly comparing the matching traces. Pride lifted Alanna's chin at the upward movement of his head. Bright with silent challenge, his questing gaze centered on Rolt. Rolt took the handkerchief from Kurt's hand.

"I stole a welcome home kiss at the airport," he stated calmly.

At least he didn't imply that she had given it freely, Alanna thought grimly. There was a thoughtful stillness about Kurt's expression as if he was still considering the information. Whatever his conclusion was, it wasn't written in his light blue eyes when he looked at Alanna. But she thought she detected a faint tautness along his jaw line.

"Here's the keys to my car. Alanna's luggage is already in the trunk, so you might as well use it." Rolt tossed the keys to Kurt, lightning reflexes allowing him to catch them. "You'll want to take her home now."

"Yes, I will." Kurt's fingers closed over the keys, concealing them in the fist of his hand. An arm partially encompassed her shoulders to rest a hand between her shoulder blades.

Rolt moved toward his desk table as they turned to leave. "Before you go, Kurt, I want to give you fair warning." He picked up the telephone and punched out a series of numbers, not even bothering to glance at his brother as he spoke, nor at Alanna. "You've had a clear field with Alanna for long enough. Now I'm joining the competition."

Gasping, she couldn't believe that she had heard right. His boldness was unbelievable—he was talking about her as if she wasn't even in the room, then referring to her as if she was some prize to be won and not a human being capable of deciding for herself which man she preferred.

Hadn't she made it plain she heartily disliked him? And the audacity of telling his own brother that he was going after his girl! Alanna didn't know whether to unleash her temper or laugh at Rolt's limitless conceit.

Kurt, who had stiffened at the announcement, was evidently tom by conflicting reactions, too. He glared silently at the ruggedly carved profile Rolt presented to them.

The moment passed when either of them had an opportunity to respond. Rolt had reached the party he had dialed. "Hello, Sam. I have a message here that you called…"

Kurt's hand tightened on her shoulder. "Come on, let's go," he said gruffly.

The firm pressure of his hand on her back guided Alanna out of the office. She was as eager to leave as Kurt was. Neither spoke as they left the building. In the car, Kurt jammed the key in the ignition, then leaned back in the bucket seat without starting the motor.

"About what happened in there—" he sighed heavily.

"I know Rolt is your brother," Alanna interrupted, still influenced by her anger, "but he's the most overbearing, arrogant man I've ever met. Do you realize the way he maneuvered both of us?"

"I'm beginning to get a fairly good idea," he nodded, a dark brow arching upward in retrospection. His hands clenched the steering wheel, knuckles mining white under the fierceness of his grip. He gave her a sideways glance, alertly watchful "He meant what he said, Alanna. I know him too well to doubt that."

"You mean about wanting me?" At Kurt's affirmative nod, she exhaled a contemptuous breath. "I can't stop him from trying, but he isn't going to get anywhere."

"Rolt attracts women the way flypaper attracts flies."