came to clothes. Except when he worked, his were always impeccable. His blasted jeans had precise creases in them. It was just another contradiction between them.
“All set?” he asked when he was finished.
She regarded him with amusement. “I’ve been ready. You’re the one who’s been dillydallying over the packing. What is this obsession of yours with neatness?”
He scowled. “It’s not an obsession. If you have things, you take care of them. That’s all.”
“Did that come from your father and grandfather teaching you to take care of the ranch?”
“The ranch, family, whatever.”
They were waltzing close to dangerous territory now. Laurie regarded him cautiously. “In other words you protect what’s yours?”
“Something like that.”
She concluded there was a point that needed making. “Clothes are one thing, Harlan Patrick. I’m another. It’s not your job to protect me.”
“I think it is. You and Amy Lynn are my responsibility,” he insisted emphatically. “Just because you ducked out on me and hid Amy Lynn for months doesn’t make it less so now that I’ve found you.”
She winced at his stubborn expression. “Forget it. I am not having this conversation with you, not tonight.”
“Wise decision,” he commented as he ushered her out of the club and into a waiting car. “It’s an argument you can’t win. Now just sit back, close your eyes and rest till we get where we’re going.”
“Oh, no,” she retorted. “I’m not closing my eyes or turning my back on you for one single second, Harlan Patrick Adams.”
He grinned. “Suit yourself.”
But despite her vehement protest, Laurie felt her eyes drifting shut within a matter of minutes. Lulled by the car’s motion, she was sound asleep in no time.
When she eventually awoke again, she had no idea how much time had passed. Her eyes snapped open as she realized that the sound she was hearing couldn’t possibly be a car’s engine. One glance around confirmed that she was riding in an airplane—Jordan’s corporate jet, unless she was very much mistaken.
“Harlan Patrick!” she bellowed when she didn’t spot him right away.
He poked his head around the back of her seat. “Hush, darlin’. You’re going to wake the baby.”
“I’m going to do more than wake the baby,” she threatened. “I am going to wring your sneaky, conniving neck, right before I toss you out of here. Where are we and where are we going?”
“We’re in a plane.”
“That much is clear.”
“Jordan’s plane.”
She sighed heavily. “I thought so. I thought you’d sent it back to Texas.”
“I had.”
“Your uncle must be thrilled with all the use his jet is getting these days.”
“Let’s just say he’s resigned to it.”
“Let’s move on to the other question I asked. Where are we going?”
He met her gaze evenly. “Home, darlin’. We’re going home.”
Laurie felt her heart begin to thud dully. “Home,” she repeated in disbelief. “You’ve kidnapped us and you’re taking us back to Texas?”
“I haven’t kidnapped you,” he insisted, looking offended.
“What would you call it?”
“You agreed to come to dinner. I picked the place. Mine.”
“I’m in the middle of a concert tour. I can’t go to Texas,” she protested.
“Of course you can,” he contradicted. “You told me yourself, you have a couple of days off before you’re due in Ohio. We’ll fly up day after tomorrow. The band will meet you there.”
“And you took care of all these little logistical details yourself?” she asked skeptically.
He looked vaguely uneasy. “Not exactly.”
To Laurie’s astonishment, Val popped up just then.
“I helped,” she announced unrepentantly.
“You?” Laurie asked incredulously. “Might I point out that I am the one who pays your salary. I’m the one who should be giving the orders.”
Val grinned. “You pay me to make things happen. I made this happen.”
“But I didn’t want this to happen,” Laurie all but shouted.
“Sure, you did, darlin’. You just didn’t know it,” Harlan Patrick responded in a low, soothing tone. “Don’t blame Val. It was my idea.”
“Oh, I am very sure of that,” she agreed. “I’ll deal with you in my own good time.”
Despite the threat and her scowl, apparently he concluded it was safe enough now that the initial explosion was over, so he slid into the seat next to her. She glared at him. He smiled right back at her.
“I ought to hate you for this,” she said.
“But you don’t,” he said confidently. “Do you?”
“I’m still debating.”
“Laurie, face it. You couldn’t hate me if you tried. Not really.”
“You know, Harlan Patrick, one of these days someone’s going to come along and bring you down a peg or two. Not everyone finds your inclination to control things