They’d clashed the minute they met.
The man was the worst redneck Tracy had encountered in years. Every time she thought about him, she gritted her teeth.
Instead of worrying about Duke, Tracy forced herself to concentrate on the wedding ceremony. The church was crowded with well-wishers as Mariah and Christian pledged their lives to each other.
Tracy didn’t think she’d ever seen Mariah look more beautiful. She wore the serene expression of a woman who knows she’s deeply loved. A woman cherished by the man to whom she’s willingly surrendered her heart.
Mariah had loved Christian almost from the day she’d arrived in Hard Luck. It’d taken Christian well over a year to recognize that he loved Mariah, too. Once he had, though, it seemed the youngest O’Halloran brother was intent on making up for lost time.
The couple was married two weeks to the day after they’d become engaged. Their whirlwind courtship left Tracy’s head spinning. Even if she wasn’t a romantic, Tracy was charmed by the way Christian had rushed Mariah to the altar.
She didn’t begrudge her friend’s happiness. Or Christian’s. But she firmly believed that kind of love wasn’t meant for her, and the thought saddened her, although she wasn’t completely sure why.
Christian O’Halloran hadn’t been able to take his eyes off his bride from the moment Mariah had entered the church on her father’s arm. The only word to describe Christian was besotted, and Tracy knew Mariah was giddy with happiness.
“Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Christian O’Halloran. Christian, you may kiss your bride.”
There was applause as Christian drew Mariah into his arms and slowly brought his mouth to hers. The kiss lasted long enough for whistles and embarrassed giggles.
Following the ceremony, the wedding party moved on to the reception, which was being held in the largest building in the community—the Hard Luck school gymnasium.
Mariah had kept Tracy informed of the goings-on in town with her long newsy letters. Tracy suspected she knew more about Hard Luck than some of the town’s residents did. Between her visits and Mariah’s letters, she found herself falling in love with the state of Alaska. And specifically Hard Luck, the unique little town fifty miles north of the Arctic Circle.
As soon as she got to the gymnasium, Tracy stood in the reception line with the other members of the wedding party to greet the long row of guests. The first person to come through the line was Abbey O’Halloran, wearing an ivory-colored, lace-fringed maternity top.
“Tracy, it’s so good to see you again,” Abbey said, hugging her.
“You, too.”
Abbey looked wonderful. Radiant. Tracy knew it was a cliché to describe a pregnant woman as radiant, but Abbey was. She simply glowed with health, happiness, excitement. In her last letter, Mariah had written that the ultrasound showed Sawyer and Abbey were having a daughter.
As the reception line progressed, Tracy was surprised by the number of people she recognized. Many she knew because of her visits, but others she remembered from Mariah’s letters.
Just when Tracy was beginning to think she might escape Duke Porter, he stepped directly in front of her. He flashed her one of his cocky grins, the kind of grin that suggested she should be thrilled to see him.
She wasn’t.
Tracy stiffened instinctively. “Hello, Duke,” she managed to say.
“Tell me,” he said, apparently not the least bit concerned that he was holding up the reception line, “were those tears I saw in your eyes during the ceremony?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she returned tartly. The man possessed an innate talent for zeroing in on whatever made her the most uncomfortable.
“It seemed to me,” he said thoughtfully, rubbing his hand over his clean-shaven chin, “that your eyes were suspiciously bright while Mariah and Christian exchanged their vows. Tears, Tracy? From a woman who’s never been married? You must be close to thirty now, right?”
“I said you were mistaken,” she said, leaning past him to greet the next person in line. Duke, however, stood his ground.
“You’ve never been married, have you, Tracy?” he said. “I wonder why. Judging by the tears, you must be wondering the same thing.”
“As a matter of fact, I haven’t given it a thought,” she informed him coldly, angry with herself for rising to his bait.
He appeared to digest this information for a moment, then added, “It would take an unusual man to marry a woman who obviously hates men.”
“I don’t hate men,” she said heatedly, then clenched her hands at her sides, furious that he’d done it to her again. Duke Porter knew precisely what to say to enrage her. What enraged her even more was how easily she allowed her control to slip with this...this bush pilot. Some of the best-known attorneys in the King County court system couldn’t get a rise out of her nearly as fast.
He chuckled softly, clearly pleased with himself.
“You’re holding up the reception line,” she snapped in an effort to get him to leave.
Duke glanced over his shoulder. “You’re right. We’ll resume this discussion later. And there’ll be no escape then, I promise you.”
He leaned forward as if to kiss her, and she jerked her head back. But her action didn’t disconcert him at all.
“Tracy?” he whispered for her ears alone. “Don’t forget, I owe you one.”
“Owe me?”
“For that kiss,” he reminded her. He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
She opened her mouth to question his sanity. The last man on this earth she was interested in kissing was Duke Porter.
“The kiss,” he said in calm tones, “that you had Mariah deliver. You owe me, you little troublemaker, and I intend to collect.”
Tracy felt as if the floor had opened up and she was falling through open space.
Months earlier, she’d asked Mariah to kiss Duke on her behalf and to tell him it was from his favorite feminist. They’d meant the whole thing as a joke. And frankly she’d never expected to see Duke Porter again.
He smiled at her, but there was no amusement in his face. His expression said she was about to receive her due.
Tracy swallowed painfully. She had nothing to fear, she told herself. Duke was all bark and no bite. Her eyes held his, unwavering.
The person behind Duke cleared his throat, and Duke moved forward to offer his congratulations to the bride and groom.
Tracy’s eyes followed him. She recalled the first time she’d met Duke and how she’d involuntarily reacted to the disturbing sight of his rugged sensuality. Duke was well over six feet, almost a full head taller than her own five-three.
He was muscular, as well, but she knew that his strength wasn’t the result of working out at some gym with fancy equipment. He was a man who lived hard and worked harder.
His hair was straight and dark, a bit long in the back. He needed it trimmed, but then he had every time she’d seen him. From a distance his eyes looked dark, but on closer inspection she realized they were a deep shade of gray. Brooding eyes.
Tracy’s were brown, and she wore her hair short and curly. With her court schedule what it was, she didn’t have time to fuss with her appearance. She frowned on women who used beauty instead of intelligence to achieve their goals.
Her wardrobe consisted of business suits in grays and blues. A few casual clothes—jeans and sweaters. One fancier dress for those rare evenings when she participated in some charity function. And now, one rose silk maid-of-honor dress. Tracy would never have chosen such a traditionally feminine outfit for herself.
She’d always disdained feminine trappings, which she saw as pandering to men. From an early age she’d learned the disappointing truth—men were often intimidated by intelligent women. It hurt their pitifull
y fragile egos to admit that someone of the “weaker sex” might know more than they did. In her opinion, Duke was a classic example of this kind of man, and she refused to allow him to diminish her confidence. As the reception continued, Tracy managed to avoid him. She headed for the buffet and three of the pilots did verbal battle to see which one would have the honor of bringing her dinner. While the men argued, Tracy dished up her own plate. The three pilots watched openmouthed as she sat down and started to eat. The comedy went on as they rushed toward the buffet line, then hurried back to vie for a seat next to her.
Tracy had dated her share of men and been in several short-term relationships, but rarely had she had more requests than she could handle. This was certainly an aspect of life in Alaska she hadn’t considered.
Just when she thought she was safe, Duke asked her to dance. Actually he didn’t ask, he assumed. While her mind staggered, seeking excuses, he effortlessly guided her onto the dance floor.
Rather than cause a scene, Tracy let him take her in his arms.
“I was watching you just now,” he said, and his voice was almost friendly. Almost, but not quite.
Tracy said nothing. She’d endure one turn around the dance floor and be done with him. She wondered if this was her punishment for asking Mariah to kiss him.
“I’ve finally figured out what you really need,” he went on.
Tracy couldn’t resist rolling her eyes. This should be good. To her surprise, he didn’t seem in a hurry to tell her.
“You’re one of those women who think because you’ve got a couple of college degrees you’re better than a man.”
Tracy opened to her mouth to argue, then hesitated. This time she wasn’t going to be drawn into one of those no-win verbal exchanges. He could say what he wanted, and she’d keep her mouth shut.
“I bet you thought you were clever outsmarting Ted, Ralph and Jim, didn’t you? I suspect you’re used to having men compete for your attention.”
Tracy wasn’t going to correct him, that was for sure.
“It seems to me you’re the kind of woman who needs to be tamed.”
Despite her vow to keep her mouth closed, despite her determination not to become involved in a pointless argument, Tracy burst out, “Tamed? You think a woman needs to be tamed?”
“It won’t be easy,” Duke went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “It’d take a real man, not one of those sensitive males you’re accustomed to dating.”
“I beg your pardon?” Fury poured through her like molten lava.
“I know just the type of man you date, too,” he said smugly. “The ones who’re trying to get in touch with their inner child.”
“I’d like you to tell Gavin that.”
“I take it Gavin’s your boyfriend?”
“If you saw him you wouldn’t call him a boy,” she taunted as he led her around the dance floor.
“Really. Describe him to me.”
She had no intention of doing so, but soon found herself mentally listing Gavin’s virtues—even though she was a long stretch from being in love with her fellow lawyer. Gavin was witty and fun and they’d had a good time together, but it wasn’t a serious relationship.
“A caring, sensitive guy, no doubt,” Duke muttered.
“Gavin’s a man of the nineties,” she said curtly before she realized Duke had done it to her again.
Duke snorted. “A man of the nineties. I can picture him now.”
“You’ve never even met Gavin,” she snapped, quick to come to her friend’s defense.
“I don’t need to,” Duke said. “I can see him already. He’s just your type. Before he knows it, you’ll have a ring through his nose and you’ll be leading him around to show all your fancy friends how powerful you are. But once you’re bored with him, it’ll be bye-bye Gavin.”
The effort it took not to respond sapped Tracy’s energy. “I know what your problem is, Duke Porter,” she announced evenly. “You’re living in the Middle Ages. Talk about me being close to thirty and unmarried. What about you?”
“I don’t have any desire to marry.”
“Me, neither.”
He snorted again as if he didn’t believe her.
“That says a lot, doesn’t it?” She mocked him openly. “It’s perfectly acceptable for you to remain single, but you can’t admit a woman might have those same feelings.”
“Since the beginning of time, women have fought to control men.”
“I see it the other way around,” she argued. “Men seem to think it’s their God-given right to dominate a woman.”
“God created woman to please man.”
“What?” Tracy groaned aloud. Duke Porter belonged not in the Middle Ages but back in the Dark Ages. “You mean pleasure him, don’t you?”
That slow easy smile of his slid into place. “That, too.”
“I don’t believe it.” Although the music hadn’t stopped, Tracy pulled herself out of his embrace and walked off the dance floor.
Duke followed her. “Just a reminder,” he said when they reached the far end of the room. “I still intend to collect my kiss.”
“I didn’t kiss you,” she insisted.
“Yeah, but you wanted to. And you want it now.”
“I’d rather kiss a rattlesnake,” she assured him with her sweetest smile.
“No need,” he returned flippantly. “You can kiss me, instead.”
* * *
Duke stepped back and watched as his friends buzzed around Tracy like bees around a rose in full bloom. It irritated him to see his fellow pilots, men he trusted and admired, taken in by a pretty face.
Tracy Santiago wasn’t even that pretty. Cute, maybe, but that was about as far as he was willing to go. One thing he knew—he didn’t like her.
Never had and never would.
Duke remembered when he’d first encountered the attorney. He’d known instantly that Tracy wanted to make trouble for Midnight Sons and consequently for all of them. She was after the company, hoping to prove that his employers were exploiting women.
What a lie! Each and every woman who’d moved to Hard Luck had come of her own free will. True, the O’Halloran brothers had gone out of their way to give women incentives to move north, but there’d been no coercion, no sales pitch, no pressure. The women who’d stayed and become part of the community wanted to be here.
It hadn’t taken long for the fancy Seattle attorney to show up, looking for an opportunity to ruin everything. Now, there was a woman with her own agenda!
Duke hadn’t liked Tracy the first time they met. Afterward he should’ve simply forgotten her—yet he hadn’t. Months after her visit, he was still dwelling on their fiery exchanges. No one had ever stood up to him like that, challenged him, and when he questioned her actions—well, to put it mildly, she gave as good as she got.
Their feud didn’t end with her visit, either. Fate had pulled a trick on them both when he answered the office phone one afternoon and heard Tracy on the other end. The incident reminded him of everything he hated about her—and everything he didn’t hate.
Mariah seemed to take pleasure in teasing him about his aversion to a certain female attorney. She tossed Tracy’s name into conversations the way an enemy would toss a grenade.
Then there was the day Mariah had kissed him. Mariah! It hadn’t taken Duke or any of the other pilots long to see the lay of the land when it came to her.
She’d set her sights on Christian the first day she arrived in Hard Luck. So nothing could have shocked Duke more than the time she’d backed him into a corner and laid a lip-lock on him that had sent him spinning.
Then she had to go and ruin it by explaining that the kiss was actually from Tracy Santiago. If ever there was an ego buster, it was having that shrew get the upper hand.
> What bothered Duke even more was that he hadn’t been able to forget that kiss. He couldn’t help wondering what it would’ve been like had it really been from Tracy. If they became romantically involved...
The truth was, that scared the living daylights out of him. Any relationship between them would be ludicrous. No man needed that kind of grief. Not that there was much chance of it happening to Duke, with her living in Seattle and him in Hard Luck.
His father had tried making a long-distance relationship work years earlier, and it had destroyed his family. His mother had hated Alaska. She’d stayed for several years, then moved to Texas, where she had family and friends. His father had remained in Alaska, and within a couple of years they’d divorced. Duke had hated Texas and was soon living with his dad. The two of them had gotten along well. John Porter had never remarried, and Duke didn’t blame him.
John had died several years ago, and Duke rarely heard from his mother, who’d remarried and raised a second family. It was just as well, since they had little in common. He suspected he was an unhappy reminder of something she’d prefer to forget.
There was no denying that his own background had made him cautious—no, downright wary—about women and marriage.
Soon after the kissing incident, though, he’d let a friend in Fairbanks set up a date for him. Generally he didn’t bother with blind dates, but the daily flights to Fairbanks didn’t give him enough time to meet women on his own. His reaction to Tracy had led him to forgo his usual caution.
Pretty soon he had something going with Laurie. She was divorced and had a couple of kids her husband took on weekends. They had a nice arrangement, he and Laurie. She wasn’t interested in marrying again, she said, which suited Duke perfectly because marriage didn’t interest him, either. He’d leave that to his friends.
No, sirree, Duke wasn’t going to let any woman rule his life. He’d seen what could happen. But then again, he wasn’t opposed to the sort of cozy setup he had with Laurie.
Unfortunately it hadn’t lasted. A few weeks into their relationship, Duke realized she bored him. A perfectly good woman was crazy about him, and it was all he could do to feign interest. If he raised his voice, vented a little steam, Laurie cried. Real tears, too. Every now and then, he’d say something outrageous just to get a reaction out of her. She’d smile benignly and astonish him by agreeing.