Desert Devil

• Chapter One
  
• Chapter Two
  
• Chapter Three
  
• Chapter Four
  
• Chapter Five
  
• Chapter Six
  
• Chapter Seven
  
• Chapter Eight
  
• Chapter Nine
  
• Chapter Ten
  

Then She Saw Him.


He was leaning against a boulder, naked to the waist, arms crossed against his powerful chest. Sculptured shoulder muscles tapered down to a hard, flat waist, lean hips and moulded thighs. He moved, and the muscles rippled under the sheen of bronzed skin.


Juli lifted her eyes to the lean face. There was something satanic about the faint, sardonic smile. The sinking sun played shadows like firelight across his skin, shadowing his eyes as he turned toward her.


"I knew we would meet again," he said slowly, "but I didn't realize it would be so soon."

RENA McKAY is an American writer currently living in the far West. The setting for her well-focused novels reflect her love for her native country and add an extra dimension to her sensitive and finely drawn characters.

Dear Reader,

Silhouette Romances is an exciting new publishing series, dedicated to bringing you the very best in contemporary romantic fiction from the very finest writers. Our stories and our heroines will give you all you want from romantic fiction.

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Copyright © 1981 by Rena McKay

First printing 1982

ISBN 0 340 27672 X

Juli Townsend's little car shuddered as another of the big trucks roared by on the narrow, two-lane highway. She gripped the steering wheel with the unhappy feeling that at any moment she might find herself impaled on one of the thorny cactus plants crowding in on the dark ribbon of highway. She caught a brief glimpse of the name TAYLOR ELECTRONICS emblazoned on the side of the trailer, and she made an angry mental note to tell Mr. T. J. Taylor exactly what she thought of his truck drivers when she saw him. Among a few other things she intended to tell him, she thought determinedly.

The road topped a small rise and then the town of Cholla, Arizona, was spread out below her, looking somehow insignificant surrounded by the sprawling, barren miles of flat desert and the jagged blue silhouette of mountains in the far distance. At the edge of the road was a large green sign announcing that Cholla was the home of Taylor Electronics, plus a brief statement proclaiming that the company was bringing jobs, progress, and prosperity to the area. A large map showed the way through town to the company grounds, though that was hardly necessary since the bulky, tan-colored buildings dominated the northeastern section of the small town.

The town was quite distinctly divided into two areas, Juli noted as the car descended the gradual incline and crossed a bridge over a totally dry riverbed. The old section looked a little dilapidated, with faded stucco buildings and straggling fences, but the streets were pleasantly shaded with cottonwoods and an occasional palm tree. The new section had a bustling shopping center and row after row of bare, new-looking houses on streets that simply plunged out into the desert and stopped abruptly among the dry shrubs and cactus.

Juli glanced at her watch. Almost twelve o'clock. She had intended to arrive in Cholla in time to locate David's trailer and freshen up before keeping her one o'clock appointment with Mr. Taylor, but a broken fan belt on the car's engine had delayed her. Now she decided she would simply grab a bite of lunch and go directly to the appointment. She'd had several days on the road in which to decide exactly what she wanted to say to Mr. Taylor, and she thought she had it all letter-perfect by now. She would be courteous, but firm. Tactful, but resolute. Reasonable, but shrewd.

And if that didn't work, she thought grimly, she would simply accuse Mr. T. J. Taylor of cheating and theft and tell him David's mother intended to sue for every cent the company was worth.

She stopped at a small but clean little Spanish-style restaurant in the older section of town and had a deliciously spicy cheese enchilada and green salad for lunch. She inquired about directions to Reynaldo Road, where David's trailer was located, and decided she should have no trouble finding it later. After lunch she freshened her light makeup in the ladies' room, and a few minutes later confidently parked her car in Taylor Electronics' spacious parking lot.

Up close the tan-colored buildings looked even larger and bulkier than they had from a distance. A discreet sign pointed to the office, a smaller two-story, tile-roofed building set off by itself. It was tastefully landscaped with red cinder rock and a variety of desert plants. Everything looked almost scrupulously neat, Juli noted. No noisy machinery, no billows of smoke polluting the cloudless desert sky.

The midday February sunshine actually felt hot on Juli's back as she crossed the parking lot. She marveled to think that only a few days ago she had been sloshing through ice and snow back in Ohio. She opened the heavy glass door and walked up to the reception desk. A dark-haired young woman rose to meet her.

Juli gave her name. "I have a one o'clock appointment with Mr. Taylor," she added.

The girl checked a calendar on her desk. "Yes. Would you come this way, please?"

She indicated a low swinging door at the end of the desk, and Juli followed her through the rows of desks and across the large room. The room was not noisy, and yet it had the steady hum of busy typewriters, low voices, and whirring office machinery that indicated an efficient, smoothly running organization. The girl stopped at a closed door marked CONFERENCE ROOM; opened it, and stood aside to let Juli enter.

"Mr. Taylor will be a few minutes late. His noon meeting ran overtime. Would you care for a cup of coffee while you're waiting?"

Julie started to decline, felt her palms suddenly dampen with nervous perspiration, and nodded affirmatively, instead. The girl said she would return with a cup in a minute.

Juli paced restlessly around the room trying to quell this sudden explosion of nervousness. Her soft brown hair clung damply to her temples, and her white shell blouse and coral slacks suddenly felt wrinkled and too casual for this businesslike atmosphere. But there was nothing to be nervous about, she reminded herself firmly. She had only to point out to Mr. Taylor that she and her aunt were well aware of the valuable contribution David had made to the company and only wanted what was rightfully his.

But somehow Juli had not expected an electronics company set out in the middle of the Arizona desert to be quite so intimidating. She had vaguely pictured her cousin David performing his experiments or inventing his strange contraptions in the dusty backroom of some little shop, not working for what was obviously an extremely up-to-date, progressive organization. And yet she knew that vague thought was illogical, of course. Dusty little shops didn't hire brilliant university graduates to run a complete research department.

And a mere insurance secretary didn't usually have the temerity to demand a conference with a company president, either, she suddenly thought shakily.

The girl returned with coffee and packets of powdered cream and sugar. She assured Juli that Mr. Taylor would be with her as soon as possible. Juli thanked her and perched on the edge of a russet-colored sofa to sip her coffee. A real leather sofa, she noted as she ran a finger lightly over the glove-soft surface. Taylor Electronics obviously did not go in for cheap imitations. No doubt they could afford the best, she reminded herself grimly, if they were in the habit of cheating their employees, as David's last letter had certainly seemed to indicate.

Coffee cup in hand, she rose and wandered around the room again. With the comfortable sofa, several easy chairs, lamps, and a big coffee table, the room looked more like a living room than a formal conference room. The window looked out on a small, louver-enclosed area of green vines and shrubs. Turning restlessly, she walked toward a far wall on which hung several enlarged color prints of what was evidently the Taylor Electronics plant when it was under construction. An artist's conception of the completed project showed the company evidently planned further expansion sometime in the future. Then her attention was drawn to a framed photograph of a distinguished-looking, silvery-haired man. A small brass plaque on the frame identified him as Thomas J. Taylor.

Julie inspected the photograph and suddenly felt reassured. Thomas J. Taylor looked competent and businesslike, but certainly neither unkind nor dishonest. There was a hint of good humor in the crinkled lines around his eyes and mouth. He surely wouldn't be unfeeling about the problems of a crippled widow, dependent primarily on her only son for support, Juli decided. She mentally revised her plans to include a greater appeal to his sympathies.