Love Me Before Dawn. Lindsay McKenna
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expressions.”
Shep grinned. “Whoa ... if I don’t hear an MBA talking, I’ll eat my wings.”
Tess laughed liltingly. She liked his smile. It was devastating. “Are all test pilots as perceptive as you are, Shep?”
“You aren’t going to fall into the trap of stereotyping test pilots, are you? How long have you been with Rockwell and the B-1 program?”
She shrugged. “Two years. I joined the company after coming out of Harvard with my MBA.” She gave him a mischievous look. “See, you were right. I do have an MBA. And if it isn’t your perceptiveness that told you that, then you’re reading my mind.”
“I’m reading your mind,” he returned. “You’re easy to read.” God was she easy to read! He had to keep himself from becoming too familiar with her. It was too easy to let down all his shields and simply be himself. He found himself wanting to tease her playfully, to make her eyes glint with the laughter he had seen dancing in their depths moments earlier. “Can I get personal for a moment?” he asked.
She regarded him solemnly for a long second. Finally, she inclined her head forward. “Yes.”
“I was just wondering if your family was Irish.”
Tess gave a sigh of relief. He could have asked her anything, and she would have found herself giving the answer. Shep was someone whom she could easily confide in. “One hundred percent. My great-grandparents came from a small seacoast village in southern Ireland.”
“The land of fishermen and potato farmers?” he teased gently.
“And don’t forget, Ireland raises some of the finest Thoroughbreds in the world too. It’s a country with many faces.” Tess finished the champagne, placing the glass on the rail in front of her. The momentary silence lengthened between them as they both gazed out over the dark valley. “L.A. is so huge,” she murmured finally, almost to herself. “I wish we lived out in the country.”
“You’re a woman who would rather stick her toes into the warm earth instead of dressing elegantly for parties like this.”
She grimaced. “Tell me about it! Cy cringes every time I put my hair into braids.”
Shep turned, studying her. “Oh? Somehow I picture you being very comfortable in a pair of well-worn jeans instead of designer clothes.”
“That’s true.” She gave him a searching look. “How could you know that?”
He raised the glass of Scotch to his mouth and took a sip. “How old are you, Tess? Do you mind if I call you by your first name?”
She shivered in response to the sound of her name on his tongue. “No, I’d love it. I hate standing on formality. And to answer your question, I’m twenty-four.”
“I thought so,” he murmured.
That secretive grin of his got to her and she laughed. “What does that mean?”
“Hmm, just that you’ve probably spent all your adult life in the ivory towers of higher education. You haven’t had much of a chance to mingle with people on a purely social level. And the fact that you got your MBA when you were twenty-two implies that you jumped a couple of grades somewhere along the line”—he shook his head in a rueful gesture—”which means you probably didn’t get much time to grow up.”
Tess nodded. “Ever since I can remember, my parents had me in some sort of school. I guess they discovered I was bright when I was around two years old.” She shrugged her shoulders. “From then on, it was a matter of bringing out my gifts.”
“Don’t sound unhappy about it,” Shep soothed. “And certainly don’t apologize for your intelligence.” He grinned suddenly. “Even if you are a woman,” he taunted without rancor.
Tess placed a hand on her hip, lifting her chin in defiance. “You’re a chauvinist after all, Captain!”
Shep held up his hand. “No way, lady. We’ve got women in all phases of the Air Force, even flying planes. There’s talk that someday we’ll have women test pilots. No, I’m a believer in what women can do. Peace?”
Tess tried to stare him down and then burst out into laughter. “Fair enough.”
Shep warmed to her bell-like laughter. He took a deep breath, captivated by her unstudied loveliness. What was she doing here? She was like a flower on the desert, natural, unpretentious. Was her powerful, influential husband trying to mold her into someone like Allyson? The thought chilled him.
He observed her dispassionately for a moment, trying to be objective and finding it difficult.
He could not fault her on beauty or personality, and certainly she was very intelligent. Her only flaw was that she did not belong. But was it right to curb her naturalness? To rob her of that effortless laughter, the sparkle in the depths of her blue eyes, just so she would fit in? No, he told himself. No. A sense of despair settled over him. He looked at her again. There was nothing he could do. She was married. And so was he. He felt a knife twisting in his heart. Tess was the kind of woman he had hungered for all his life. The thought jolted him.
“Shep?”
He frowned. “Sorry,” he muttered, “I was thinking.”
“About what?”
He took a good stiff drink of the scotch, looking back over the scintillating night lights of L. A. When he didn’t answer, she moved closer, until mere inches separated them. Groaning inwardly, he wondered if she knew what she was doing to him. One look at her worried face, and he knew it was a guiless gesture on her part. There was a genuine concern registering in her eyes. She had seen his agony. Damn! He forced himself to adopt a mask of cool, calm composure.
Tess reached out, touching his arm momentarily. “I know, you’re thinking about the B-1! Are you worried about the flight date? That we won’t make the June 1974 commitment? I’ll bet you can hardly wait to fly the bomber.”
He gave her a tight smile, forcing himself not to react to her touch. It was as if a butterfly had briefly grazed his arm. His mind was running rampant, unchecked. What would it be like to kiss those full lips? To feel her response to him? She might be married, but he guessed that her husband had never fully brought out her ability to love. Angrily Shep cut off all thoughts of wanting her…needing her. It took every fiber of his being to do so. “I understand that the avionics contract was just awarded,” he answered, his voice carefully neutral, slightly strained.
“Yes, it was. But I would think you’d be more interested in the Preliminary Flight Rating Test which will take place in March.”
Shep put a tight leash on his emotions as he turned to drink in the sight of her upturned features. Her eyes…oh, God, he could lose himself in the depths of her warm blue eyes. “I am interested,” he agreed. “The PFRT is the last test before we actually place the engines in the bomber.” Did his voice sound like a monotone to her too? It sounded flat, uninterested. Hell, he wanted to discuss anything with her other than business. He wanted to know about her, her background, her likes and dislikes. His mind leaped from one question to another.
But before he could formulate any of them, they were interrupted by the waiter calling them to dinner. Shep slipped his arm around her small waist and led her slowly back to the opened doors. “Thanks for coming out here with me,” he said, meaning it.
She looked up at him. He was incredibly handsome in the dim light. The silver bars of his rank glimmered on his broad shoulders. The feel of his hand against her waist seemed so right. It had been natural to turn toward his body and fall in step beside him while they walked. His touch was firm, knowing. Her flesh tingled where his fingers rested, and Tess was incapable of stilling her singing heart. “I have a feeling we’re both the same,” she said. “You don’t like these parties any more than I do. You certainly appear to be more at ease here than I, but you strike me as a man who prefers the company of a few close friends and family.” Shep ushered her into the