The Cutting Edge - Linda Howard

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and he also thought he might be able to get more information about her fellow employees from her.

      Tessa pressed shaking fingers to her mouth. “I know. I’m sorry,” she said weakly. “I never meant to let things…that is, you startled me when you touched…oh, damn it.”

      He looked at her sharply. She was visibly trembling, and something very like fear was in those wide eyes as she stared at him—fear like he’d seen before, during dinner, and he felt a sudden, keen curiosity. No, he had to reassure her, calm her down so she wouldn’t refuse to see him again.

      He took a deep breath to calm the ragged pace of his breathing, and to bring his voice back to normal. “It happened too fast, didn’t it?” he asked quietly.

      Tessa brought herself back under control, too. “I’m not a tease, but I don’t sleep around either. I don’t believe in casual encounters. We just met today, after all. I didn’t mean to let this happen.”

      “I understand.” He managed a smile, a brief, grim smile. “Not that I think there would be anything casual about our encounter. We’d probably blow the needle off the Richter scale.”

      Tessa had thought herself long past the blushing stage, but the color that rose to her cheeks was from excitement, not embarrassment. He was looking at her in a way that almost scorched her, and the painful part of it was that she still wanted him, too, in just the way he was imagining. Her body had reacted instinctively, independent of her mind and common sense, and her flesh had recognized him immediately as a worthy partner.

      “Tomorrow night. Dinner again.”

      She couldn’t take her eyes from him. “I can’t. Sammy Wallace is trying to teach me how to play chess.”

      Brett remembered overhearing her make the date in the elevator, and his almost photographic memory dredged up an image of Sammy Wallace: thin and blond and no match at all for this sweet little Southern Delilah.

      “All right,” he allowed grimly. “The night after, then. And don’t tell me no.”

      “I wasn’t going to.” Never off stride for long, Tessa felt enough like herself to give him her slow-breaking smile that held him breathless as he watched the beginning curve of her lips and waited for the smile to reach full bloom. “I must have more courage than brains.”

      He didn’t feel like smiling, but the twinkle in her eyes invited him to share in the laughter at herself. He didn’t want to laugh; he wanted to take her to bed, and the coiled tension in his body told him that he’d have to take a cold shower before he could sleep. “I’ll see you Thursday night. Six-thirty?”

      “Yes, that’s fine.”

      He’d turned to the door, but he paused and glanced back at her, his face grim. “This Sammy Wallace, is he special to you?”

      “He’s a very sweet and very shy man, and he’s also a genius. He’s teaching me chess.” Why was she explaining herself to him? But from the way he was looking at her, he didn’t think that was explanation enough.

      “Don’t make any more dates with him, or with anyone else except me.”

      The possessive order made her eyes widen. “Are you going Neanderthal on me?” she asked suspiciously.

      “If I have to. You shouldn’t have kissed me the way you did if you didn’t want me to lay claim.” Very calmly, he caught her chin in his hand and kissed her, slow and hard. “Remember that.”

      When he was gone, Tessa creamed off her makeup and brushed her hair, then pulled on her light nightgown and tumbled into bed. She was a hard sleeper; nothing interfered with her rest, and tonight was no exception. She went immediately to sleep, but her subconscious played the night for her again and again in dreams that didn’t stop with the touch of his hand on her body.

      * * *

      EVAN’S EYES WERE tired and red-rimmed from the work he’d been doing at night as well as the bogus work necessary during the day, but his mind was still running at full speed. He was totally caught up in their covert search for the embezzler. “Did you get any useful information from Miss Conway last night?” he asked absently when Brett entered the office.

      “I’ve made notes,” Brett answered, taking a small notebook from his inside coat pocket. The details he’d noted were insignificant, except to himself and Evan. He’d had to be careful in his questioning, since Tessa wasn’t a gossip, but he’d gotten a surprising amount of information from her humorous tales.

      Evan read the notes, frowning as he added the information to the profiles he was compiling on each employee under suspicion, which was, at that point, virtually everyone.

      “What do you have on Sammy Wallace?” Brett asked slowly, frowning at himself for asking the question. He didn’t like the possessive jealousy he was feeling; he’d never felt it for any woman before, and he didn’t want to feel it now.

      Evan’s head snapped up. “He’s a computer genius,” he said slowly. “He has a system at his apartment that the CIA could use. From what I’ve found so far, he has to be the prime suspect. What made you ask?”

      Brett shrugged, his eyes intent. If Wallace was the prime suspect, he’d make damned sure Tessa didn’t have anything else to do with him.

      ALL DAY LONG, Tessa had looked forward to Sammy’s undemanding company as an antidote against the tension that curled in her stomach at just the thought of Brett Rutland, and Brett had occupied her thoughts so much that day that she wondered if she’d made a mess of everything she’d done.

      “Aunt Silver, you never warned me about men like him,” she grumbled aloud, as if her aunt were in the room with her instead of almost an entire continent away. “I think I’ve met the man I could really love, but it’s not safe to love him. He’s a real heartbreaker. So what now?”

       Take it as it comes.

      That was exactly what Aunt Silver’s answer would be. She was a wonderfully romantic woman, but soundly based in common sense. Silver had probably faced the same dilemma when she met the man who would eventually be her husband. From what she’d heard from both her mother and Silver, Tessa had surmised that her uncle had been as wild as a mink, with charm to burn and an itch for Silver that Silver had been determined he wasn’t going to scratch. Their running battle had lasted for almost two years and kept three counties enthralled, wondering who would win. Silver had won, and their marriage had been as temptestuous and as loving as their courtship. It must run in the family for the women to fall in love with rakes and rascals, she thought.

      “I won’t fall in love with him!” Tessa said fiercely as she took the stairs up to Sammy’s apartment, then admitted to herself that she was whistling in the dark.

      When he answered the door, Sammy’s face was flushed with excitement and his hair was mussed. “Tessa, just wait until you see the new computer we’ve put together! It’s a real honey.”

      Tessa was thoroughly familiar with computers, but only from a user’s standpoint. She knew absolutely nothing about microchips or interfacing, and wasn’t interested in learning, but she smiled at the enthusiasm on Sammy’s face. “Tell me about it,” she invited.

      “See for yourself. Hillary’s here, too.”

      Tessa had never met Hillary before, but Sammy had often talked about her. Hillary lived on the floor above him, and she was as wild about computers as he was. Tessa supposed it was a case of kindred spirits. The young woman she saw seated at the display terminal and practically attacking the keyboard only reinforced that original supposition, for Hillary was as blond as Sammy. Her slim figure was encased in jeans and a jersey, and her long blond hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail. Glasses perched on her small nose as she peered at the monitor.

      “Hillary,

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