The Cutting Edge. Linda Howard

the front door, earning an ear-to-ear grin from him and an exasperated snort from Martha “Billie” Billingsley, who worked in the payroll department of Carter Engineering and who was also Tessa’s closest friend.

      “You’d flirt with a dead man,” Billie growled.

      “I wouldn’t,” Tessa defended herself good-naturedly. “Besides, there’s a difference between flirting and just being friendly.”

      “Not where you’re concerned, there isn’t. You have every man in this building falling all over himself whenever you’re anywhere near.”

      Tessa laughed, not taking Billie’s charge at all seriously. She was a cheerful flirt, laughing and teasing, but doing it so lightheartedly that it was almost impossible not to laugh with her. Most people liked Tessa—even women—because she wasn’t a poacher, despite the sunny charm that drew men to her like iron filings to a magnet. She was always the first person invited to a party because she was so lively. She had a sharp but kind wit, the sort that had people hanging on her lazy words, waiting with almost painful anticipation for her to get to the punch line, then exploding with mirth when she finally got it all said. Tessa’s drawl would have driven everyone crazy months ago if the lazy music of it hadn’t been so distracting. She was originally from Mobile, on Alabama’s Gulf Coast, and Billie had long ago concluded that it would take an earthquake to make Tessa hurry. It was really odd how she managed to accomplish so much on her job, because she approached it with such calm laziness, never appearing ruffled or frantic no matter what crisis was crashing down on the office. Tessa just sort of strolled around, and things somehow got done. It was a complete mystery.

      They entered the elevator, where they were joined by the company’s computer genius, Sammy Wallace. Sammy was tall and thin and blond, with vague, sweet blue eyes behind horn-rimmed glasses that made him look like even more of a genius. Put him at the keyboard of a computer and he could practically make it sing opera, but he was almost painfully shy. Tessa felt protective of him, even though he was actually a few years older than she, and she greeted him warmly. He still blushed whenever she spoke to him, but he’d learned that the kindness in her eyes wasn’t a lie, and he returned her smile. He might usually have his mind on computers, but he’d noticed how men looked at Tessa, and he felt a little proud that she always spoke to him.

      “Do you have a free night for another chess lesson?” she asked, and he blushed a little more at the way she suggested that his social life was so busy that his free nights were few and far between. He liked that, and he gave her his sweet smile.

      “How about tomorrow night?”

      “Wonderful!” She rewarded him with a dazzling smile, her deep green eyes sparkling. “About seven?”

      “Sure. Do you want to play poker again, too?”

      “Now, you know I never turn down a poker game.” She winked at him, and Sammy winked back, surprising even himself. He was teaching Tessa chess, and in return she was teaching him poker. He was so good with numbers that he was picking up the basics of poker far more easily than she was handling chess. Tessa played chess with verve and dash, going on instinct rather than strategy, and the board was often chaotic before her adversary figured out what was going on and began methodically boxing in her king. On the other hand, she was very good at poker; she liked the sheer exhilaration of blending skill and luck.

      The elevator stopped at the next floor, and several men entered; Tessa moved toward the rear, holding the rail as the doors closed and they all moved upward again. It was lucky that she did hold on to the rail; when the elevator reached the next floor, it lurched violently before shuddering to a stop. Ted Baker, the man standing in front of her, lost his balance and flailed wildly in an effort to keep from falling. He succeeded, but his elbow crashed against Tessa’s cheekbone, and she staggered from the force of the blow. Instantly, the man beside her had his arm around her waist, holding her up, and he swore softly.

      The man who had hit her turned around, apologizing profusely. “It wasn’t your fault,” Tessa tried to reassure him.

      “Baker, have a repairman called to check out the elevator,” the man holding Tessa ordered, and Baker quickly murmured an acknowledgment.

      Tessa had already recovered from the brief dizziness caused by the blow, and she tried to move away from the man, but he held her firmly within the hard circle of his arm. Billie squeezed over to them, her eyes anxious. “Tessa? Are you all right?”

      “Yes, I’m fine.” But she probed her cheekbone gingerly with her fingers, not certain if she was being truthful or brave. Her face felt a little numb.

      “I’ll take her up and put ice on it,” the authoritative voice above her head said, and she doubted if anyone ever disobeyed that note of command. Certainly no one in the elevator made any other suggestion. Billie got off at their floor, looking back worriedly at Tessa, but she didn’t try to accompany them. Little by little the elevator emptied as it rose higher and higher in the building, and Tessa pursed her lips thoughtfully at what that meant. She wanted to tilt her head back and get a good look at her rescuer, but he was standing slightly behind her, and she really didn’t feel safe in moving her head that much. Sensation was returning to her face, and her cheekbone was throbbing painfully.

      They exited on the executive floor, where Tessa had been only a few times in the past, since there was seldom any need for someone from bookkeeping to venture that far afield. He opened a door that had no name on it, but a secretary sprang to attention at her desk.

      “Helen, do I have any ice in my office? There’s been a slight accident.”

      “Yes, sir, I’m certain you do.” Helen jumped to open the door for him, then walked straight to the small built-in bar in the corner of the large office to check the supply of ice. “Yes, there’s ice. Do you need anything else?”

      “I’ll get a towel from my washroom,” he said easily. “That’ll be all, thanks.”

      The secretary left, closing the door behind her, and Tessa was alone in the big office with a man she’d never seen before. “Sit here,” he instructed, easing her into the huge leather chair behind the desk that stretched out like a football field. He turned away to fetch a towel from his private washroom, and Tessa promptly got to her feet, propelled by both curiosity and an instinctive wariness of a man so used to giving commands and having them obeyed. She walked to the wide windows and looked out at the almost endless vista of Los Angeles. She heard him when he came back into the office, but she didn’t look around.

      “I told you to sit down,” he said abruptly to her back.

      “Yes, you did,” Tessa agreed in a mild voice.

      After a moment, he walked over to the bar, and she heard the clink of ice cubes as he got them out. “I’d feel better if you sat down; that was quite a crack you took.”

      “I promise I won’t faint.” She could hear him approaching…no, the thick carpet muffled his footsteps. She sensed his movements, as if her skin had become acutely sensitive to him; she actually felt the warmth of his body as he came closer. Turning, she faced him for the first time.

      While he’d been holding her so closely against his side, she’d noticed several things about him. The first was that he was very tall, probably six-four, and very strong. She was of medium height, but her build was delicate and graceful, and she’d had the feeling that he could have lifted her with one hand. The heat and power of his hard-muscled body had been almost overpowering. She’d also noticed his clean male scent, and felt the lean strength of his hands.

      Now he stood before her, looking at her with narrowed, intent eyes, and Tessa looked back.

      A curiously light-headed feeling began to creep over her, and she wondered for a moment if she might have a slight concussion; then she realized that she was holding her breath. She let it out in a soft sigh, still staring up at the hard, distinctly unhandsome, but remarkably sensual and arresting face. He had the most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen on anyone: navy blue eyes, fringed by thick dark lashes, a blue as pure and deep as she could ever imagine. His hair was tawny