Chapter 1

     "Go to England? Now? You can't be serious!" Karin Williams sat in her boss's San Jose office, long legs crossed, hands tented over one knee. She had known something was up--Leonard Dalkey never called her out of a staff meeting. Her gaze inched upward. Lines of strain deeply etched the older man's craggy features.

     Leonard shifted his body in the massive leather chair. "Karin, I know it's a bad time to pull you off those projects, but it can't be helped. You're my best engineer--my only structural expert with a working knowledge of telemetry." He leaned forward, eyes level with hers. "I don't have to tell you how badly we need this contract. The future of Dalkey and Williams is at stake."

     Karin's breath caught. And maybe her own future? Leonard wouldn't say that, but the implication was clear in his somber expression and furrowed brow. Not a man to brood, Leonard was worried; the tension in the older man's face transmitted itself to Karin. Despite her current project responsibilities, she couldn't afford to jeopardize her chance for promotion. More important, she couldn't disappoint Leonard, who'd placed so much confidence in her ability. Working with the Pickering consortium, she conceded, would add valued status to her position at the company. The British firm topped the list of structural engineering companies.

     Karin paused, the thought of working with the elite English staff suddenly daunting. Hadn't she read something about one of their engineers in Design News last year? Something ... disturbing. She frowned as the memory surfaced.

     "What about Marsden?" Karin said finally. "How will he react to suggestions from someone my age? Not to mention my being a woman?"

     "You're as capable as anyone in the field--and that includes your father. Still--"

     Karin uncrossed her legs and smoothed her hands over the rough slub of her linen skirt. "What's up, Leonard? You're hiding something."

     The older man's face tightened as he ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair. "I--well, I'm not sure sending you is a good idea, Karin, Marsden being what he is. But there's no one else."

     "What--does he have two heads or something?"

     Leonard stroked his chin reflectively. "Rumor has it that the man is uncommonly ... ah ... prepossessing." Even after thirty years in the States, the speech of the Yorkshire Dales still hung thick on Leonard's tongue.

     "Doesn't his work stand up to outside scrutiny?"

     Leonard laughed outright. "Don't kid yourself. Marsden's the best in the business, but ...." Leonard paused, choosing his words carefully. "His attitude toward women has alienated him from the higher echelon at Pickering. Marsden believes no female can excel as an engineer. In fact, the ones who've worked for him have been quickly dismissed for one reason or another."

     That was the story she'd read about. There'd been some charge of sexual harassment, never proven but ....

     Could she work in an environment where she constantly had to prove herself? Karin chewed on her lower lip. Leonard had thought the world of her father. The older man had stepped in as a surrogate parent, making her stay in school after her father had died. It was Leonard who had urged her to go on for her advanced degree, then challenged her with increasingly complex assignments--tasks that had propelled her into her present position as design specialist.

     She stared at the pale blue eyes. Marsden or no, refusing Leonard was impossible.

     Sensing his desperation, Karin looked up at him and sighed. "All right. I'll do it. I'll be on that plane Tuesday."

     "Uh, before you leave--" He fastened his gaze upon her, a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. "Marsden's desperate for help. If you're successful in completing the project to his specifications, not only will we gain a permanent slot on the consortium list for future contracts, but--" His smile broadened, "that vacant staff post will be yours."

     Karin snapped to attention, her eyes widening. Chief engineer at twenty-six! Unheard of at Dalkey and Williams. But, she reminded herself, she'd worked hard for this chance, putting in hundreds of extra hours on her own time. She suppressed the elation that surged through her as Leonard filled her in on the task, knowing deep inside she'd have accepted the assignment for his sake with no thought of a promotion.

     Marsden needed an antenna support platform. Last spring she'd done a similar one in Nevada. This one should be a piece of cake. The only thing standing in the way was an opinionated English project officer with out-of-date notions about women engineers. Well, she'd show him.

     She gave her boss a heartfelt smile. "You won't be disappointed, Leonard. I promise."

* * *

     Where the hell was he, this Williams? Rowan Marsden glared once more at the monitor listing the flight arrivals, then withdrew a folded fax from his vest pocket and reread the brief message. K. M. Williams arriving Manchester Wednesday noon, British Airways flight 4452. This was Wednesday. He'd got that right, but flight 4452 had been canceled. He'd learned the news after arriving--a bomb scare at Heathrow. The replacement craft delivering his new structural engineer was five hours late. He shoved the fax back into his jacket pocket and took a determined stride toward the information desk.

     And stopped in his tracks.

     Claudia! What the bloody hell was she doing in Manchester? He pivoted away. For that matter, what was she doing in England? He forced his gaze back to the woman emerging from the arrival pod.

     Somehow, this woman looked different. The same rich, dark red hair as his ex-wife, but pulled back into a hair-slide, wayward tendrils escaping at her temple. A creased, slim-cut trouser suit in a shade of soft green. The cropped, open jacket revealed her nicely rounded derriere and equally attractive long, athletic legs. Willowy. He paused in mid-step. That wasn't Claudia. This woman had to be at least a half head taller.

     Relief washed over him. Still, the resemblance was uncanny.

     The woman looked up and met his gaze. An awareness flickered in her pansy-brown eyes, which he found disconcerting. But it was not Claudia, thank God. This woman had finely drawn features and she looked ... wholesome. Earthy. Swift, unexpected heat settled in his groin. He frowned and straightened to his full six feet three. He could well do without that. Attractive she might be, but he was far too gun-shy to let his thoughts meander down that particular road.

     Rowan tore his gaze from her, glanced at his watch and charged along the concourse. He'd have Williams paged.

     Karin shifted her carryall to her other shoulder. Through the huge plate glass window, she watched orange fingers of light fade as dusk darkened the hazy Manchester sky. Chandeliers gleamed overhead, sending reflections dancing on the glass as she propelled her travel-stiff legs along the concourse. Her eyes felt grainy, and a frontal headache pounded. As usual, sleep had eluded her on the flight. She fervently wished for a cup of tea, two double-strength aspirin, and a soft bed.

     At the baggage area she paused near a plaster column and reached into her purse for a compact. She frowned at her reflection. An oval face, accentuated by high cheekbones and a narrow, straight nose--too narrow, and a trifle long, she acknowledged. Smudges of violet shadowed her wide-set eyes. The seemingly endless hours in flight had done nothing for her appearance or her disposition.

     People flowed past her, some intercepted by families or friends, all moving toward the baggage carousel. No one looked even remotely like a Pickering representative. It was hardly surprising. Her original flight from Heathrow had been canceled. Snapping the compact shut, she sagged onto a bench near the baggage area.

     After what felt like an eternity, luggage spewed out of the chute. Karin elbowed her way through the throng of passengers and retrieved her brown leather duffel.

     A voice from the loudspeaker blared: "Will Mr. K. M. Williams please report to the information desk."

     Karin shrugged into her coat and shouldered her carryall. Laden with luggage, she trudged down the aisle toward the automated walkway.

     By the time she reached the opposite end of the terminal, both arms ached. She stepped into line behind a middle-aged couple and let her bags slide to the floor.

     With the toe of her shoe, Karin shoved her duffel another foot nearer the information desk and glanced around the terminal. A tall, dark-haired man in a tweed jacket, black sweater and jeans stood a few feet away. She'd seen him a moment ago, staring at her. He was well over six feet. Attractive, Karin thought. The British had a word for it--dishy. He was definitely dishy. She stared, aware of a tiny pulse in the base of her throat.

     Cool gray eyes looked her over then fell away. The man glanced at his watch, scowling, then interrupted the service clerk. "Page Mr. Williams again." He spoke crisply, his voice deep and commanding, with a hint of North Country accent. Like Leonard's, she thought.

     Will Mr. K. Williams ...

     The dishy man was asking for her! She stepped closer. Her heart set up a spirited thrum as she peered at his face. His imposing height intimidated her, and several seconds passed before she was able to speak. "I'm Karin Williams. Are you from Pickering?"

     He pinned her with silver-flecked eyes. Thick, brown-black hair stopped just short of his jacket collar. Up close, he was extraordinarily good-looking, with sun-bronzed skin and a square jaw. As he continued his perusal, she felt an odd flutter ping-ponging off the walls of her stomach.

     "If you're Mrs. Williams, there's been a mistake. We have no married quarters on site. I'm afraid your coming along has been for nothing." His gaze shifted as he scanned the room.

     "I am Karin Marie Williams, representing Dalkey and Williams," she asserted, her voice firm. "There's been no mistake. You're here to meet me, Mr--?"

     His gaze snapped back to her face. "They sent a woman?" He clapped a hand to his forehead. "Five bloody hours I've been waiting for that damned aeroplane, and they sent me a woman? God in heaven!"

"... The research in this book is impeccable, the characters are flawed and carrying lots of baggage (just like real people), the settings are beautifully described, and the plot makes for a runaway read. This is a great book ... it won't be long until everyone is begging their booksellers for more of Suzanne Barrett--she pens a un-put-downable read.

"Kudos, Ms. Barrett, when your future fans start raving about how good this book is, I'm going to take great pleasure in saying, 'I told you so.'"

Under the Covers - October 1998