ALISSA'S MIRACLE Read online

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  © 1997

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  Chapter 1

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  She knew the instant he entered her office.

  He didn't speak or make a sound as he crossed the thick carpet, nor did she look up from her work. She didn't have to. The familiar prickle rippled over her scalp and spread down her neck and shoulders.

  Alissa sighed. She seemed to have developed her own personal radar where Dirk Matheson was concerned.

  Composing her features into a professional mask, she looked up from the computer screen when he paused beside her desk. As always, she experienced a jolt when her gaze met those silvery-gray eyes.

  "Good morning, Mr. Matheson. May I help you?"

  "Is Henry busy? I need to speak to him for a minute," he said in his usual abrupt way.

  "One moment, and I'll find out."

  He impatiently tapped a rolled-up schematic against his leg while she pressed the intercom and spoke to her boss in a low voice.

  Henry Battle was the president of Texas Consolidated Electronics, otherwise known as Tex-Con. Alissa Kirkpatrick had been his secretary for almost fifteen years. There were only a handful of people, either inside or outside the company, who got in to see Henry Battle without an appointment. Dirk Matheson, one of Tex-Con's top executives, was one of them.

  She released the intercom button and looked up at him with a pleasant smile. "Go right in, Mr. Matheson."

  Without so much as a nod to her, he turned and headed for Henry's door with that long, commanding stride of his.

  Alissa stared after him. The tingling sensation she experienced these days whenever he came near her still danced over her skin.

  "Oh, honestly, Alissa. What in heaven's name is the matter with you, mooning over someone like Dirk Matheson?" she muttered under her breath as she turned back to the computer screen. "You've known the man for fifteen years, and not once in all that time has he looked at you as anything other than a piece of office equipment."

  For that matter, until recently she had not paid that much attention to him, either.

  Not that she hadn't found him attractive. What woman wouldn't?

  Tall, dark and leanly muscular, with black hair that was going silver at the temples, gray eyes and chiseled, almost harsh features, he exuded a sort of dynamic masculinity that made him overshadow every other male who came near him. In addition, there was a mysterious, brooding quality about Dirk that made a woman wonder what secrets lay behind that unreadable face and those silvery eyes.

  Alissa, of course, had noticed all that when she first came to work for Tex-Con, fifteen years ago, but merely in the objective way that one admires an intriguing work of art. At the time, she had been happily married to her college sweetheart and not interested in other men.

  How things had changed, she thought sadly. Just over a year ago, after sixteen years of marriage, she had found herself a widow.

  She still wasn't interested in other men. Not really. Lately, however, to her chagrin, her attraction to the company's youngest vice president had somehow become more personal and intense. Now her foolish heart fluttered whenever he came near, and she often found her mind wandering off into fantasies about him.

  "Which is just plain silly," she scolded herself, clicking the computer mouse harder than necessary. As if Dirk Matheson would give her a second look. At forty, he was one of Houston's most eligible bachelors. The man dated sophisticated, glamorous women, not inexperienced homebodies like her.

  For which she should thank her lucky stars, Alissa told herself. Even if Dirk should, by some fluke, happen to notice her, nothing could possibly come of it. She wouldn't have the slightest clue as to how to handle so much as a platonic relationship with a man like him. She hadn't been on a date in over seventeen years, not since she married Tom Kirkpatrick, at age nineteen.

  A wry smile twitched Alissa's mouth. In any case, she doubted that any of Dirk's relationships over the years could have been categorized as platonic.

  At work he was serious and professional—even harsh, some claimed. Certainly he was not a man who suffered fools gladly. He had been known to annihilate malingerers and incompetent subordinates with a few well-chosen words, and his no-nonsense approach to a project or problem was legendary among the employees and customers of Tex-Con. However, her woman's instinct told her that behind that austere face and those mysterious eyes was a man of seething passions with an intensely sensual nature.

  When Alissa came to work for Tex-Con all those years ago, Dirk had been a single up-and-coming junior executive and the object of a great deal of lascivious speculation and fantasizing among the female staff. Fifteen years and a vice presidency later, little had changed. Dirk was still a bachelor, and the female employees of Tex-Con still drooled over him—more now than ever.

  The very idea that she had joined that horde of smitten women disconcerted Alissa. It was humiliating.

  She liked to think of her newfound fascination with the man as a healthy sign that she was finally recovering. After all, she was still a young woman. Tom's unexpected death had devastated her, but after more than a year of grieving, it was only natural that the sexual side of her nature would reawaken.

  Still, it was a foolish and futile waste of time for her to entertain thoughts of Dirk Matheson, Alissa told herself as she focused on her shorthand notepad and began to type the letters Mr. Battle had dictated.

  She was a mature thirty-six-year-old woman with a level head on her shoulders, not an adolescent schoolgirl. From now on, she would put the man right out of her mind.

  For the remainder of the morning, Alissa's resolve did not waver. Even when Dirk strode out of Mr. Battle's office a half hour later, she kept her gaze focused on her shorthand pad and continued to type without missing a beat.

  By the time she joined a few of her female co-workers for lunch at a nearby restaurant, she was congratulating herself on her self-control. However, she hadn't allowed for her friends' insatiable interest in men, particularly Tex-Con's sexiest vice president.

  Halfway through the meal, Dorothy Ames, an electronics engineer, stopped in the middle of relating a juicy bit of gossip about a male chauvinist in the production department where she worked and said in an urgent whisper, "Look! Isn't that Dirk Matheson's latest?"

  She pointed with her salad fork and, as one, the gazes of the other four women at the table homed in on the gorgeous brunette who was hurriedly wending her way through the crowded restaurant toward the exit.

  "Yes, you're right. That is Diedre Hollingsworth, Jolene Greer concurred.

  Beside her, Margo Dutton cocked her head to one side and narrowed her heavily mascaraed eyes. "Is it me, or does she look as though she's upset about something?"

  "You know … I do believe you're right," Annie Mimms murmured. "She looks mad enough to bite a railroad rail and spit bullets. I wonder who stuck a burr under her saddle?"

  The other four women chuckled. Annie, a secretary in the sales department, was a rawboned, freckled redhead in her early thirties who hailed from East Texas. Consequently, her conversation was frequently peppered with the quaint sayings of that rural area of the state.

  "Who knows?" Jolene drawled with unconcealed disdain. "Maybe her Mercedes wouldn't start this morning. Or maybe the chef didn't toss her salad just right. Hell, maybe she broke a fingernail. You know how it is when you're a rich socialite. Life is just one earth-shattering catastrophe after another."

  Jolene had come from a poor background. She had married right out of high school, and a year later she had taken her infant daughter and fled her abusive husband. Divorced, with no training and no skills, she had starte
d work at Tex-Con twenty years ago as a mailroom clerk. Through effort and determination, she had put herself through college at night and worked her way up through the company to her current position as manager of personnel services and benefits. Jolene did not have a high opinion of the idle rich.

  "What I wouldn't give to have a figure like that," Dorothy said with a sigh. "Instead, I'm stuck with thunder thighs and a broad beam on a five-foot-one frame. It isn't fair."

  "Now, Dorothy, you have a perfectly nice figure." Ever the mother hen, Annie jumped in to bolster her friend. "You're just a little rounded, is all. But believe me, there are still plenty of men out there, like my Brian, who like a woman with a little meat on her bones."

  "A little meat? Honey, I'm carrying around a whole steer."

  "What's the big deal? Anyone can have a model's figure, if they have a personal trainer and nothing but leisure time."

  Dorothy gave Jolene a wry look. "Maybe. You have to admit, though, Diedre Hollingsworth is a gorgeous creature.

  "So? Big deal. All of Dirk's women are gorgeous."

  "Is it any wonder? I mean, let's face it, ladies, the man attracts women like a honey pot draws flies. He pretty much has his pick."

  "Ain't it the truth?" Margo's eyes grew heavy-lidded and dreamy. "I just wish he'd pick me. Mercy, that man is one terrific hunk."

  "I'll say," Annie agreed in a breathy voice. She batted her eyelashes extravagantly. "It's those eyes … that stony face … that get to you. Whenever he comes near me, I swear I get the shivers."

  Alissa sympathized completely. These days she couldn't be in the same room with Dirk without getting goose bumps. She wasn't about to admit that, though.

  "Hey! I thought you were a happily married woman?"

  "I am." Annie shot Jolene a haughty look. "Just because I'm married doesn't mean I'm blind. Or dead."

  "I know what you mean." Dorothy sighed. "There's something so appealing about brooding men. They're so mysterious, so … so intriguing."

  "Mmm…" Annie propped her chin in her hand. "He's the only man I know who might be able to lure me away from my Brian."

  Jolene snorted. "Don't hold your breath. In all the time that I've been with this company, not once has Dirk been serious about any woman. His girlfriends usually last about six months. Tops."

  "Ah, a man after my own heart," Margo drawled. "Personally, tying yourself down to one man sounds perfectly dreadful to me."

  "Oh, I don't know." Annie's wholesome face took on a faraway expression. "I think it's romantic."

  Margo gave the younger woman a dry look. "Of course you'd think so. I swear, I don't know how you can still be so besotted over that husband of yours after two kids and ten years of marriage."

  "That's easy. I happen to love him. The trouble with you is you're so cynical you haven't any idea what love is all about." With that, Annie gave a little sniff and tilted her chin.

  Alissa sent the redhead a supportive glance and winked. "Don't pay any attention to Margo. We all know what a cynic she is."

  A three-time divorcee, Margo Dutton was the assistant personnel director at Tex-Con. She appeared worldly and sophisticated and, according to her, she was only interested in men for the pleasure they could give her in bed. Alissa suspected that her friend was merely protecting herself from more hurt.

  "Not true. I'm simply a realist."

  "Uh-huh."

  Biting back a smile, Alissa glanced around the table as she stabbed another bite of salad. At times, considering the differences between the five of them, it still amazed her that they were all such good friends.

  "Not only are Dirk's affairs short and sweet," Dorothy added. "I've never known him to date a woman who works for Tex-Con."

  "I'd settle for a roll in the hay," Margo drawled in her sultry voice. "Oh, Lord, can you imagine what that body must look like under those impeccable suits? What kind of lover he would be?"

  "Can I imagine? I only do it about ten times a day." Dorothy closed her eyes and gave a rapturous shudder. "He would be perfect."

  "You've sure been quiet, Alissa." Margo shot her a sly look. "So what do you think about Dirk?"

  Instantly the gazes of the other women locked on Alissa. She had to fight the urge to squirm. "Well … I think he's a very intelligent man and an excellent executive."

  "Oh, puh-leeze!" Jolene huffed.

  Dorothy and Annie rolled their eyes and groaned.

  "Yeah, yeah. We know all that," Margo said with an impatient wave of her hand. "But what do you think of him as a man?"

  Alissa twisted her napkin in her lap. "Well … he … he seems very nice."

  "Nice! Honey, chocolate cake is nice. Dirk Matheson is sex on the hoof."

  "Margo!" Color scalded Alissa's face, while all around her the other women laughed. "What a thing to say!"

  "So? It's true, and you know it. Don't tell me you've never had an erotic thought about the man."

  Alissa played with her fork and shifted in her seat. It was pointless to deny the charge. She had never been able to lie without it showing all over her face, as all her friends knew perfectly well.

  "C'mon, Alissa. 'Fess up. Doesn't he get you all hot and bothered?

  "Dorothy—"

  "You're attracted to him, aren't you?"

  "I don't see what—"

  "Well, aren't you?" Jolene pressed.

  "I…I…"

  "Yes or no. It's real simple."

  "Oh, all right. Yes, I'm attracted to him. Very much so. There. Satisfied now?"

  "So why don't you do something about it?"

  "Oh, right. That's really going to happen."

  "Why not?" Margo looked at Alissa with a speculative gleam in her eyes. "If anyone in the company has a chance with Dirk, it would be you."

  "Me! That's ridiculous!"

  "Oh, I don't know. You've got the inside track. With your job, you come into contact with him … what? Four, five times a day? That's more than any other woman in the company does, with the exception of his secretary. And Lucy Garrett is sixty if she's a day."

  "Margo, for heaven's sake. Dirk comes through my office on his way to confer with my boss, not to see me. Why, he hardly knows I exist."

  "Yeah, right!" Dorothy scoffed. "You've got the face of an angel and the body of a temptress. And you're telling me that a man with Dirk's taste in women hasn't noticed. Give me a break."

  "It's true! Anyway, I'm not his type."

  Jolene hooted. "In a pig's eye."

  "You are a very attractive woman, Alissa. A man would have to be blind not to see that."

  "Thank you, Annie. That's very sweet. But trust me, Mr. Matheson doesn't even think of me as a woman. To him, I'm just another piece of office equipment. I've worked for the company for fifteen years, but I doubt that he even knows my first name."

  Her boss was pushing seventy and of the old school, and therefore tended to maintain a certain quaint formality with the female staff. He had never called her anything but Mrs. Kirkpatrick, and Dirk had always done the same—that is, when he bothered to address her at all.

  "You know, even if what you say is true, you could change that.

  "Margo, please, could we just drop this?"

  "You're too aloof, too much the perfect secretary. If you would just— Oh, cripes! I don't believe it!"

  "What is it? Is something wrong?" Alissa asked, experiencing a spurt of panic and not sure why.

  Margo lowered her voice to a barely audible murmur. "You could say that." Grimacing, she ducked her head and tried to shield her face with her hand. "Take a look at who's here," she hissed, tipping her head toward the row of potted palms that separated their table from the next one.

  The other women's gaze swung around, and in unison a gasp went up from all four.

  Never had Alissa wished for anything as much as she wished at that moment that the floor to open up and swallow her.

  Standing in the aisle beside the adjacent table, peeling off money from a wad of bills for the wait
er's tip, was Dirk Matheson.

  "Oh, dear," Dorothy whispered. "Do you think he heard us?"

  "Maybe not. It depends on how loud we were talking. If he was having a conversation of his own he probably wasn't paying any attention to anyone else's." Jolene, whose back was to Dirk's table, pulled a compact from her purse and pretended to powder her nose while she checked behind her. "Darn it! I can't see for the blasted potted palms. Can anyone else see if there is someone with him?"

  "I don't see anyone," Annie whispered back, twisting her hands together. "Oh, this is so embarrassing."

  Embarrassing? That feeble word didn't come near to describing what Alissa was feeling. She wanted to crawl under the table and never come out.

  "Of course!" Dorothy struck her forehead with the heel of her hand and groaned. "What a bunch of dunderheads we are. He was probably here having lunch with Diedre Hollingsworth. We should have realized that as soon as we saw her."

  "Uh-oh, here he comes," Margo hissed.

  Alissa held her breath and twisted her hands together in her lap, her face flaming.

  Nothing about Dirk gave them a clue. His face was as impassive as ever. As he drew level with their table, his eyes swept over the group, and he gave them a polite nod. "Ladies," he murmured without pausing.

  "Good afternoon, Mr. Matheson," the five women replied meekly in ragged unison.

  Wide-eyed and as silent as stones, they watched him exit the restaurant.

  "Well? What do you think?" Jolene casted a wary glance around at the others.

  "He didn't seem any different," Annie said in a hopeful voice. "Maybe he didn't hear us."

  "Huh. That doesn't mean anything. Have you ever known Dirk Matheson to reveal what he's thinking?"

  "Dorothy's right," Margo grumbled. "Who knows what's going on behind that impassive face?"

  Annie slumped in her chair. "I guess I can kiss that promotion I was hoping for goodbye. And Brian and I could really use the money, too."

  "Promotion. Shoot, we'll all be lucky to keep our jobs."

  "C'mon, Dorothy. Dirk wouldn't have us canned. He's not a petty man," Jolene argued. "He might even think it was funny."