The Cutting Edge. Linda Howard
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of his calves. He’d have legs like a linebacker, she thought suddenly, and her legs felt burned from his heat.
Over a glass of very good wine, he continued questioning her, small, innocent questions that she answered willingly. She was too bemused by the possessive clasp of his legs to really pay any attention to the polite, getting-to-know-each-other questions that he gently posed to her every so often. Inevitably, they talked about work, since that was a common ground for them. He didn’t seem to be digging for any dirt, and he was so knowledgeable about the firm anyway that she found herself telling him funny anecdotes about the people she worked with, nothing that would get anyone in trouble, but the humorous little things that happened to everyone. She didn’t spare herself, either, and laughed as hard at the spots she’d gotten herself into as she did at any of the other stories. He countered with his own tales of the things that had happened to him during the years he’d been with Carter-Marshall, and Tessa completely relaxed.
Brett was too coolly controlled ever to be a social lion, but in a private situation with a woman he wanted, he was unrivaled. He charmed without threatening, making her feel appreciated without coming on too strong, skillfully wearing down any inner defenses. He wanted Tessa very much. It wasn’t that she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen because she wasn’t; but she was almost certainly the sexiest woman he’d ever met. It wasn’t anything he could really put his finger on; she was slender rather than voluptuous, though very shapely indeed. But her soft green eyes sparkled with teasing amusement, and her wide, generous mouth was made for passion. Her dark brown hair looked like thick silk as it curled around her delicate shoulders. With those high, beautiful cheekbones, she looked exotic and a little foreign. She teased and flirted…oh, she had flirting down to a fine art. Every time her long dark lashes languorously swept down to veil the cheerfully wicked glint in her eyes, he felt his body tighten with need. She played at being the vamp, but she did it so boldly, laughing at herself and enjoying the role so much, that it was unbelievably effective. She invited everyone else to enjoy themselves as lightheartedly as she did, but she didn’t seem to realize what a challenge she was. Brett thought of having her beneath him in bed, that full mouth no longer laughing but swollen from his kisses, and her sweet, satiny body accommodating his passions. He’d have to be gentle with her, at least at first, he thought as his eyes narrowed intently on her. She was delicately built, with slender, fragile bones.
Tessa looked up from the prime rib she was devouring with elegant greed, and found him watching her with sexual intent burning with obvious fire in his eyes. She went suddenly still, her mouth soft and a little tremulous. Without taking his eyes from her, he lifted his wineglass and drank the rich red liquid.
“Finish eating,” he said gently.
“I can’t.” Despite the way he made her feel, so shaky inside, she smiled at him. “You’re staring at me.”
“I know. I was thinking how much I’d rather be having you than this roast beef.”
His voice was so tender and low that it was a moment before she realized exactly what he’d said, and her eyes widened even more. She felt utterly hypnotized, sitting there and staring at him as helplessly as a rabbit must stare at a lion about to pounce. Giving herself an inner shake, Tessa gathered her senses. “Finish your roast anyway,” she admonished him. “Aunt Silver always told me that the only thing worth betting on was a sure thing, so don’t turn down your bird in the hand…or in this case, beef on the plate.”
His hard mouth curved in amusement. “Do you really have an Aunt Silver, or do you just use the idea as a diversion?”
Feeling more on top of the situation again, Tessa gave him a look so innocent that it should have been patented. “Now, could I really make up an Aunt Silver?”
“If it suited you.”
“You’re probably right,” she agreed comfortably, smiling at him. “But in this case, I don’t have to rely on my imagination. Aunt Silver is my actual, living, breathing aunt.”
“The one you and your mother went to live with?”
“Yes. Mother died not long after we moved to Tennessee, so Aunt Silver and I were closer than we’d normally have been. All we had was each other. She’s fantastic; she’s my aunt, my mother and my best friend all rolled into one.”
“Does she still live in Tennessee?” That was another bit of information that he’d already gotten from her file, but Brett’s cool attention to detail never faltered. He wanted her to give the details of her life herself, partly to account for the knowledge he already had, and also to give him the chance to see if she told it exactly as she’d put it in her file, or if she was reluctant to answer any personal questions. So far, she was an open, warmly responsive woman, and he wanted her more and more as the minutes passed.
“She owns a doll shop in Gatlinburg; she lives there now. The old farmhouse needs a lot of work done on it, and the only heat is the fireplace and old woodstove, so it was a lot easier on her just to move to Gatlinburg, as well as being safer during the winter. Now she doesn’t have to drive on those icy roads.” Tessa gave her slow smile. “I hope she’ll close the shop for a couple of weeks of vacation this winter, during the slow season, and come out here to visit.”
Brett’s eyes sharpened with interest. “Slow season?”
“The Smoky Mountain park headquarters are in Gatlinburg. The summer months, and through October, are the busiest, though a lot of people go during the winter, too, for the snow.”
He shook his head. Wyoming born and bred, he still couldn’t understand why anyone would actually want snow. It seemed to him that every winter they’d always had more snow than anyone could want in a lifetime. He skied, and did it well, but he’d never been enthusiastic over the sport or the snow necessary for it. But more and more he found himself missing Wyoming, even those god-awful winters.
Tessa laughed at his expression. “Listen, when you live in the South, snow is rare. I’d never seen snow at all until we moved to Tennessee.”
They finished their main courses, and the waiter promptly cleared the dishes away, while they lingered over the wine. Tessa had thought that she wouldn’t be able to eat any dessert, but when the waiter brought the dessert cart, she stared at the scrumptious pastries until her mouth was watering. “I can’t resist it,” she sighed, choosing her dessert.
Brett declined a sweet, but they both ordered coffee, and he slowly drank his as he watched her attack the pastry. She certainly enjoyed her food, for someone so slim. She glanced up at him and caught his gaze, and smiled as she read his thoughts. No words were necessary; it was one of those strangely intimate interludes when two minds march together, and she felt closer to him at that moment than she ever had with anyone else.
His gaze lowered. “You have a crumb on your lip,” he said softly, and Tessa ran her tongue slowly, searchingly, over her lips in quest of the errant crumb.
His navy eyes darkened to black. “You missed it. Lean over and I’ll get it off for you.”
Obligingly Tessa leaned over, smiling at him, so he could flick the crumb off with his finger. He paused for a moment, searing her with the dark heat of his gaze, then leaned over slowly, like a man moving at the command of a force stronger than he. As the distance between them lessened, Tessa’s eyes widened until they were large green pools, soft and deep. Surely he wasn’t going to kiss her, was he? Lightly his mouth touched her, found the crumb, and his tongue captured it. Tessa quivered under that light touch, filled with his taste, the heat and smell of his skin surrounding her. She felt almost paralyzed, totally unable to move away from him. She was as overwhelmed by him as if he’d put his arms around her and was holding her tightly to his lean, hard frame, though he’d touched her only with his mouth, and that so lightly and delicately that she’d scarcely been able to feel it.
He moved away, and the heat in his eyes had intensified, his gaze locked on her face. His expression hadn’t changed, but Tessa’s tingling nerve endings picked up the small, almost imperceptible signals of his growing arousal. His skin seemed to be pulled tighter over his fierce cheekbones; his