Giant of Mesabi

"What are you doing?" she demanded, grabbing his wrists and trying to push his hands away from her blouse front. Anger at his effrontery banished any qualms.

Ignoring her attempts to keep him from his objective, he calmly unbuttoned the top button and moved to the second. She strained and pushed, but his strength was vastly superior to hers.

"Stop it!" she breathed angrily as the second button was set free.

Rolt merely smiled, if that mirthless movement of his mouth could be called a smile. The third button was released. With the thumb and forefinger of each hand, he opened the front into a vee, smoothing the material up to the collar, then down to the low point, There he stopped, his knuckles deliberately resting on the rounded swell of her breasts.

"I want you to look alluring for my brother." He surveyed his handiwork with satisfaction.

Heat flamed through her body at the way his gaze dwelt in the shadowy valley between her breasts. She trembled with impotent anger and embarrassment, her fingers locked on his wrists but no longer making any futile attempts to push his hands away. His attention lazily focused on her face.

"A little cleavage always arouses a man's interest," Rolt added.

His fingers seemed to burn through her blouse, branding their imprint on her soft flesh. "Take your hands off me!" Alanna demanded hoarsely.

With a patronizing tilt of his head in acquiescence, he let go of the material, deliberately trailing his fingertips over the pointed thrust of her breasts before straightening to his own side of the car.

The wicked glint in his eyes made Alanna wish she had a knife. She would have gladly plunged it into his heart at that moment and damned the consequences. Rolt opened the car door and stepped out, a rush of noise and dust racing in.

Chapter Two

THE SPARKLE OF TEMPER was in her eyes, heightened color in her complexion. The tawny gold of her hair swung in soft curls about her neck, silken and shimmering. The flat of Rolt's hand rested proprietarily on the back of her waist as he guided her through the clerical department of the plant to his private office.

Alanna was aware of the interested and speculative glances they received from the employees, male and female. A few faces were familiar, but she doubted that they recognized her. Their main interest was the fact that their boss was escorting a young woman to his office.

Rolt obviously did not make a practice of entertaining women at the plant, and she wondered what they would think when they saw her with Kurt. They would probably conclude that she was playing one brother off against the other. If they only knew how uncomfortable the possessive hand on her back made her feel, they would appreciate the control she was exercising to keep from pushing it away.

A woman looked up from the typewriter as they walked through an office door. She was attractive in a plain sort of way, in her middle thirties. Unconsciously Alanna glanced at the wedding band on the woman's left hand before meeting the woman's curious gaze.

Rolt's hand shifted to her elbow, keeping Alanna at his side as he paused at the woman's desk. "Are there any messages, Mrs. Blake?"

"They're on your desk. Only one was urgent and it's on top," the woman answered in a crisp, professional tone.

He turned away, drawing Alanna awkwardly along towards a second door that obviously led to his inner sanctum. Over his shoulder, he tossed out an order to his secretary. "Find Kurt and have him sent to my office right away."

There w

asn't an opportunity for the secretary to acknowledge his request as he guided Alanna through the door and closed it behind him. His grip lessened and she immediately slipped free of the dreaded contact.

"Make yourself at home." His mouth quirked slightly as he moved farther into the room. "It will be a few minutes before Kurt arrives."

His strides took him away from her. Alanna breathed a bit easier and glanced around the office. It was hardly a typical office. The desk his secretary had referred to was not an accurate term since it resembled a table with a center drawer. A straight-backed chair and not an overstuffed leather chair sat behind it. It was definitely not something that a person would relax in and contemplate his successes. There were two or three other similar chairs situated near the table. Dark oak shelves covered one wall and a portion of a second. Books and papers abounded, but there were no cabinets.

The rest of the room was furnished with an enormous three-piece sectional sofa and equally sized knee-high table that followed its curving arc. The sofa was covered in a knobby material in Variegated stripes of blue.

The drapes, coveting the length of nearly one entire wall, were of the same material as the sofa. Beneath her feet, the carpet was a long shaggy blue, plush and thick. Charcoal sketches of black and white adorned the remaining walls.

The decor was decidedly masculine and completely informal. It was so at odds with the other office areas Alanna had passed that she was stunned. It was not at all as she had imagined, and her expression revealed this.

"Is something the matter?" Rolt's amused voice inquired.

He was standing beside the desk, or table, which seemed the more appropriate term. The pink slips of telephone messages were in his hand. His lazily veiled look was inscrutable.

"You have to admit this is not your typical office," Alanna defended her astonishment. "Whoever heard of an executive without a massive walnut desk?" She couldn't keep a tinge of sarcasm from creeping into her voice, an after-effect of his previous treatment.

He laughed softly—more, Alanna thought, from her slightly spitting tone than from the content of her remark. Almost carelessly, he tossed the telephone messages on the table top.

"I have no need for drawers and compartments, but I do like a lot of flat working space. As for the rest of this—" Rolt scanned the large room impassively, dwelling briefly on the over-sized sofa that would have dwarfed any average living room "—it has a practical purpose, too. Department meetings can be held around the couch with the various papers and reports spread on the coffee table."