The Cutting Edge

  She blew across the steaming surface of the coffee, then sipped it. “Not really. I’m a little at a loss. Would you rather not have people from the office know we’ve been out together?”

  “I don’t give a damn who knows.”

  “I know I’m being premature in worrying about it. After all, we’ve only been out twice, and that doesn’t mean—”

  “Yes, it does mean,” he interrupted, reaching for her hand. He put his hand on the table, palm up, and looked at her slender fingers as they lay across his palm. The contrast in their hands was striking, in ways besides the obvious one of size. His hands were powerful, lean and hard, with long fingers and short clean nails, his fingertips rough, his skin bronzed. Her hands were slim and delicate, the bones so fragile that her fingers were almost translucent, her oval nails polished. Her hands bore no rings.

  “Have you ever been married?” he asked abruptly, looking at her bare fingers.

  “No.”

  “Engaged?”

  She sipped her coffee for a moment before replying. “Twice.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What happened?”

  “I found out that I didn’t love either of them enough.”

  “You must have thought you did, at one time.”

  She sighed and looked away from him. She didn’t particularly want to talk about her failed engagements, which to her were almost as bad as failed marriages, but she could sense his determination to get the details out of her.

  “The first time, it was an infatuation that I took for love, that’s all. I was in college, and Will was a medical student. He wanted us to get married right away; he’d already planned for me to quit college and put him through school. I gave him his ring back.”

  He was watching her very closely, reading every nuance of expression that crossed her face. “And the second time?” he asked, dismissing Will as unimportant because he sensed her reluctance to continue.

  “Andrew,” she said slowly, somehow feeling compelled to answer him. “He did something that hurt me, and I didn’t love him enough to forgive him.”

  After several moments of silence, Brett realized that she wasn’t going to enlarge on her explanation. His hand tightened on hers. “Tell me,” he insisted. The dim light above his head turned his tawny hair into dark gold and cast shadows on his face that made it seem harder, more dangerous.

  Her hand moved restlessly in his. “I don’t believe in raking over old coals. I don’t think about it anymore. I picked up the pieces and moved on.”

  “Tell me,” he whispered, his eyes as dark as midnight.

  “He was unfaithful.” Simple words, old-fashioned words, but for her they were the epitaph for a romance. With her heart, Tessa gave fidelity, and she expected the same in return. Andrew had cheated her, promising her faith and giving her only deceit.

  Brett’s eyes brushed over her throat and shoulders and breasts, his gaze as hot as a touch. “He was a fool. Why would any man want to sleep around when he could have you in his bed every night?”

  Tessa looked up at him, and color rose in her cheeks at the way he was looking at her. Still holding her hand, he rose to his feet. “Dance with me,” he invited.

  She went willingly into his arms, grateful for the hard strength that enfolded her, for the warmth of his body. The virile impact of his masculine appeal made her tremble, but being in his arms also made her feel safe, as if his strength held the rest of the world at bay. She put her arms around his shoulders, sighing a little in contentment.

  “Did you enjoy your chess lesson?” he murmured, brushing her soft hair and temple with his lips.

  She laughed against his throat. “We never got around to it. Sammy was so excited over his new computer that he couldn’t think about anything else.”

  “What sort of new computer?”

  “Nelda. He swears it’s going to revolutionize the personal computer industry, and maybe it will. For his sake, I hope so. He has to have a small fortune sunk into all of that equipment he has in his apartment. I don’t see how he can afford to eat.”

  Above her head, Brett’s eyes narrowed as he filed that bit of information away in his memory. Automatically his arms tightened about her, pulling her closer so that her breasts flattened against his muscled chest. “Did you tell him there wouldn’t be any more chess lessons?”

  “No, there was no need. He’s so involved with Nelda, he won’t even notice.”

  “Why did you get involved with him in the first place? He isn’t your type.”

  Tessa stiffened a little in his arms. “He’s a nice man; why isn’t that my type?” She seldom bothered herself enough to take offense at anything anyone said, but she couldn’t ignore Brett. She was vulnerable to him in ways she didn’t even want to think about. Just what did he think her “type” was?

  “He’ll never be the life of the party,” Brett said coolly. “And for all his electronic genius, you could wind him around your little finger and he’d never realize it. If you had him as steady company, you’d be bored to tears within a week.”

  She stared up at him, trying to read his thoughts in his hooded enigmatic eyes. She was more than a party-girl, and she wanted him to see that, to see the woman beneath the gay and frothy facade. Did he think she was just out for a good time, that she was only attracted to people who were as comfortable socially as she was? “I’m never bored with Sammy,” she said, her voice steady, concealing the faint hurt that was welling in her. “I like him very much, whether he’s my type or not.”

  Slowly his arm tightened about her waist, pulling her so close to him that his hard body felt imprinted against her softer one. “He doesn’t matter, since you won’t be seeing him again. I want you; I’m going to have you. And I don’t share.”

  Tessa caught a quick breath at the hard, determined note in his voice. She was accustomed to being pursued, but Brett was a man who not only chased, but caught his prey. Her frail butterfly wings would be useless against his power, yet she wouldn’t feel threatened at all if she knew she could entrust herself to him. Did he want her for herself, or did he only want to conquer her because of the challenge she represented, to catch the fragile and elusive butterfly simply so he could say she’d belonged to him for a while?

  Perhaps he saw some of her doubts reflected on her face, in her clear green eyes, because he slid his hand down to boldly cup her bottom, propelling her forward to press her hips against his in a gesture so provocative and possessive that she barely stifled the startled cry that came to her lips. “Get used to it,” he drawled, and something frightening moved in his navy eyes.

  Her face burning, Tessa looked around hastily to see if anyone had seen him, but no one was paying any attention to them, and she felt her color begin to fade. The evening, which had begun so quietly, was getting out of hand. “I want to go home now, please,” she told him evenly.

  “Are you certain? It’s still early.”

  “Yes, I’m certain. I’d like to go now.”

  Perhaps she was being foolish in abandoning a public place for a private one, but Tessa felt that she could handle herself better without an audience. He wasn’t the kind of man to force a woman; she had no fear that the evening would end in a wrestling match. Even given the provocation of the way she’d kissed him the first time they’d gone out together, he’d been more understanding than she would have expected any man to be, under the circumstances. The problem was that when he kissed her, she didn’t want him to stop. Ever. And there was a sensual determination about him now that made her pulse rate increase. If he pressed the issue, would she give in? She was weak, because she wanted very much to give in; she wanted to be in his bed and give herself to him. The strong physical attraction she’d felt for him from the beginning was rapidly intensifying. She was beginning to love him, despite everything her common sense was telling her. She knew that he was a walking heartache, a man who had such a strong sensual appeal to women that he probably couldn’t even remember the names of those who had
shared their beds with him.

  She was silent on the drive to her apartment, and so was he, though occasionally she could feel his intent gaze on her. If only she could read his thoughts! But he kept them well-hidden, and she had no idea what he wanted from her beyond the obvious: physical gratification. To really know him would be a lifetime occupation, she thought. He kept himself too well guarded; he was so cool, so controlled even in his passion. The woman who broke that control would find herself with a volcano on her hands, but Tessa shivered with excitement at the thought of being that woman.

  Once again he preceded her into the apartment and checked all of the rooms before returning her key to her. She stood still, a little wary as he approached her, and a faint smile touched his chiseled mouth as he put his hand beneath her chin and tilted her face up to him. “You pretty little witch,” he whispered, his warm breath caressing her face. “You tie a man in knots with your flirt-and-retreat games. You can keep on flirting, baby, but I’m going to put an end to those teasing retreats. Kiss me. I’ve been driving myself crazy for two days, thinking about your mouth and the way you taste.” He brushed his lips over hers in a light, tantalizing caress. “Kiss me,” he demanded again, then took the choice away from her by fastening his mouth on hers, hard, his tongue going deep and again giving her his heady taste. Her eyes closed on a hot swell of pleasure, and her hands clenched his shoulders.

  They stood entwined, their mouths greedy and clinging, until Tessa felt light-headed from lack of air and pulled her mouth free; then she bent her head and rested it against his shoulder. The want, the need, that vibrated between them was staggering, and from the pressure of his body she knew that he was strongly aroused, yet he seemed to be waiting for a signal from her. She couldn’t give it to him; the act of physical love was an act of commitment for her, and she wasn’t certain enough of her feelings on the basis of two meetings to let him have that intimacy. Gently he rubbed the back of her neck, easing the tension in the taut tendons he found there.

  “Let’s go to bed,” he murmured, kissing her temple and the shell of her ear, outlining the rim of her ear with the very tip of his tongue and setting off small ripples of pleasure that flowed over her body. “I know you think it’s too soon, but waiting won’t change anything. I’m going to have you, and we both know it.”

  She closed her eyes in an agony of wanting and indecision. He was so warm and strong, and she wanted him so much that she was nothing but an empty ache inside. “I’m afraid I’m going to fall in love with you,” she blurted, her voice muffled against his shoulder, and she knew that she lied. She was afraid, yes, because it was far too late for her; she was already so much in love with him that she couldn’t pull back now, and no lecture from her common sense was going to change it. She’d been waiting for him all of her life. She could no more halt the tide of her emotions than she could stop breathing.

  Brett went very still. Even the hand on the nape of her neck ceased its motion. Love, in the romantic sense, wasn’t something that existed for him, and it wasn’t something that he wanted. Until she’d said the word, the idea hadn’t even occurred to him. He’d taken her out to dinner the first time for a twofold reason: because he wanted to take her to bed, and to question her about the other employees at Carter Engineering. His physical desire had increased until the heat of it seared him, until he couldn’t sleep and tossed restlessly on the twisted sheets, his body taut and frustrated. She intrigued him as no other woman had ever done; she was both bold and wary, inviting and resisting at the same time. For the first time in his life, he resented the thought of other men. He didn’t want her associating with Sammy Wallace for a reason quite apart from the fact that the man was a suspected embezzler. He wanted all her time to be his, all her kisses to be his, and a primitive possessiveness ate at him. When he thought of the two men she’d been engaged to, he wanted to shake her for allowing them to get close enough to her that she’d even considered marriage.

  But he didn’t want the entanglements of emotion. Love was greedy and demanding, and he didn’t want that sort of emotional intimacy. His mind was always a little aloof, always in control, and he wanted to stay that way; he’d seen too many men make complete fools out of themselves, all in the name of some confused emotional high that they called love.

  Already Tessa was intruding into his thoughts, when he should have his mind strictly on business. The image of her sleek, silky body stretched out on white sheets, waiting for him, was one that burned in his mind at all hours, entering his thoughts when he least expected it. She was distracting him from the clandestine cat-and-mouse game he and Evan were playing with a thief, and he wanted to take her, satiate himself with her, so he could put her out of his thoughts and get on with the job at hand.

  The thought of her falling in love with him jolted him. What would it be like to have this fancy, flirty woman belonging to him? Could she love, or was she just playing with the word? Had she really loved either of those men she’d been engaged to? What had she said about the one who had been cheating on her? That she didn’t love him enough to forgive him? Perhaps it was all just a game to her, to lure a man deeper and deeper into the trap of her charm. But at the same time, the idea tantalized him, much like the subtle perfume she wore that drifted to his nose every so often, then faded elusively.

  Tessa correctly read his stillness, and she fiercely blinked back the sudden scalding of tears, taking care to keep her head buried against his shoulder. “Why don’t we call a halt to this now?” she whispered. “I don’t know if I can keep it under control on my part, and I’d rather walk away from it before I get hurt.” More lightly, she said, “We could always remember each other as the one that got away.”

  He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her a little away from him so he could see her face, and a frown laced his brows. “No,” he said curtly, not wanting to examine too closely his reason for rejecting her suggestion, but there was no way he was going to let her walk away from him. Her laughter would echo in his mind for the rest of his life, and he’d feel the ache of unsatisfied desire.

  “Please.” Her eyes were very clear and direct. “I told you, I don’t sleep around. I don’t have casual affairs. I have a lot to give a man; I’m more than just someone for fun and games, and I expect a lot from a man. If you aren’t willing to give it, then let me go free.”

  “What do you expect from a man?” he asked roughly, drawing her closer to him once again, because he couldn’t tolerate the distance between them.

  “Friendship. Passion. Faith and trust and fidelity.” She moved her head in a quick motion. “Love.”

  “I’m too old to believe in fairy tales, baby. Love is just a word that people throw around as an excuse for making fools of themselves.” His hard hands hurt her shoulders. “I want you, and you want me. Let that be enough.”

  She shook her head again, but before she could say anything he bent his head and kissed her, slow and hard and deep, and again she was helpless against the black magic he practiced on her flesh. His hands moved over her body, touching her breasts and hips and thighs, as if branding her with his touch. When he pulled away, his face was full of dark color and his eyes were burning. “Think about that tonight. I’ll pick you up tomorrow night at seven.”

  “There’s no point in it,” she said weakly, but she doubted that he heard her. He was already going out the door, and she stood there in the middle of the floor for a long time, her head bent, her eyes closed. He wasn’t going to let her play it safe, and she wondered if she’d be able to survive another failed relationship.

  She was torn between the instinctive need to protect herself and the needs of her deeply passionate heart, which told her to reach out and grab him, to twine herself about him so tightly that he’d never be able to get her out of his heart or mind. She had no chance at all if she was too cowardly to take one. Love gave, instead of demanded, and she wanted to give herself to him. Perhaps his mind didn’t recognize love, but his body would. S
he was afraid…but it was too late for fear.

  * * *

  EVAN RUBBED HIS eyes tiredly, then returned to the stack of computer printout sheets before him. “I’m so tired, none of this is making any sense,” he muttered.

  Brett checked his watch; it was a little after midnight. He’d welcomed the intense concentration required by their investigation; it took his mind off his frustration, off his empty bed. But he was tired, too, and he had the nagging feeling that he’d been missing something, something that he’d have seen if he hadn’t been so tired, if a part of his mind hadn’t still been on Tessa. Damn her, why couldn’t he stop thinking about her? She was just another woman, despite her laughing eyes and searing kisses. “We’re missing something,” he muttered. “Something is right here under our noses, and we’re passing over it.”

  “A 747 could be under my nose right now and I’d have a hard time seeing it,” Evan yawned, tossing his pencil down. “This guy has to be a real genius. Why don’t you just offer him a bonus if he’ll tell us how he’s doing it?”

  “You’re pretty sure it’s Wallace?” Brett asked, slanting Evan a quick, hard look.

  “It’s someone who knows how to play hardball with a computer, that’s for sure.”

  “Tessa told me that he has a fortune in electronics in his apartment. He knows all the access codes; he can get into our computers any time he wants.”

  “I checked the guard’s records, and he works late a lot of nights, but damn it, I can’t find anything!” Evan said fiercely.

  “It’s here; we just haven’t matched everything up yet.” Brett got to his feet, moving restlessly around the hotel room. Damn, but he was getting tired of hotels, of living out of a suitcase. He wanted the crisp, clean air of the mountains, the wood-smoke smell of a roaring fireplace, the surging power of a horse beneath him. He moved his broad shoulders as if flexing against invisible chains, and the irritation of the job ate at him.

  Evans rose, too, and stretched his tired muscles. “I’m calling it quits for the night. The weekend is ahead of us. I can do a lot more work then, when I don’t have to spend the day pretending to study systems and options. I’m making a quick trip back to San Francisco in the morning, but I’ll be back by Saturday morning at the latest. Do you need anything from the office?”