true work while here undercover. Actually, her suggestions were quite good, but then, a criminal would know the best ways to rip off a place.
He nodded. “I prefer to meet one-on-one. Brainstorming will often raise possibilities neither one of us would have thought of on our own. Almost a get-to-know-you-better kind of session. Why don’t you tell me a little more about yourself?”
She gave him a wary glance, alerting his hunter-agent instincts. He recognized that look. It was the kind that proved she’d faced inquisitors before and knew she didn’t have to say or do a thing. At least not without a lawyer present.
He closed the file. He had his answer. Hannah Garrett not only remained a legitimate suspect, but now she moved to the front of the pack. He felt a surge of disappointed satisfaction. Until this moment, he hadn’t even realized he’d held some pathetic hope he’d sized up the situation completely wrong, and she was just some gal who liked computers and needed a date for Saturday night.
The lights flickered, and the pitiful excuse for an air conditioner Protter had installed whined to a halt. “That’s just great. I didn’t think this place could get much hotter.”
Hannah pulled out a frilly white cloth and blotted her forehead. She had the flushed, gently perspired look a woman wears after being made love to. That she even possessed the lacy handkerchief not only surprised him, but also it was sexy as hell. Hot desire slammed his body. He searched for some indication that Hannah was suffering as he was. That, at least, would make his perpetual hard-on somewhat worth it.
Why did she wear so many clothes? And such ugly ones. The brown sack of a skirt left nothing for his active imagination to latch on to. Couldn’t she wear something a little more formfitting? Or something anyway that didn’t end at the knee.
“Didn’t you get the shorts memo from human resources?” he asked. “You must be on fire in all those clothes.”
Hannah straightened, then replaced the handkerchief in her pocket and crossed her legs. The pencil resumed its tapping accompanied by the obviously irritated swinging of her leg. He didn’t care. Each swing gave him a peekaboo view of something other than the smooth skin of her ankle. Her ankles, as ankles went, were outstanding. Only he wanted to see more.
“I really don’t think my clothes should be of any concern to the head of security.”
“Suit yourself.” Ward fluffed his cotton T-shirt in a vain attempt to get a little more air onto his overheated skin. Hannah averted her eyes quickly. He hid a grin. Ahh, maybe it was more than just the heat affecting Hannah. He flexed his muscles a bit as he reached for his notepad.
“Now then, tell me the procedure for ensuring outsiders are not accessing the computer system.”
Hannah stopped the tapping and leaned forward. Her green eyes darkened. The first bit of passion he’d seen. “That falls under my job description. I don’t see where that’s any of your business.”
“All areas of security are my business.”
Her eyes narrowed, but the passion he’d spotted earlier faded. Damn. What had been there? She looked down, angled herself away from him and blocked her body with the notepad. All signs of criminal intent. Or that she just didn’t like him. Nah.
He’d thrown her off balance.
Now, he needed to figure out why. And do it again. Was it because he challenged her job performance? Or because he questioned how outsiders were able to access computers? Time to rattle her some more.
“Tell me how—”
The lights flickered again. A grinding, mechanical screech wrenched through the office. Then complete darkness.
For a moment the entire floor housing Protter and Lane lay silent. Then a few chuckles and squeals drifted in from the outer office. Hannah released a soft sigh, and the tension strung between them slackened.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Sure.”
Her voice vibrated with a loose quality he hadn’t heard from her since they’d first met. Weird. Instead of making her more nervous, the darkness almost seemed to make Hannah more relaxed. At least the tapping pencil had stopped.
Peeps and chirps sounded outside his window. The power failure had not affected the bird family who’d nested on his ledge. At least his sliver of a window provided a little light.
He stood and felt his way around the corners of his desk. A shrill siren sounded and the emergency security light beamed red in her face.
Ward reached for her. She wrenched away from his touch. “Hey, I’m just taking you to the window.”
With an abrupt, almost violent lurch, she stood. “No. Don’t touch me.”
He raised his hands and stepped away. Her notepad slid to the floor, and they both hunkered down to retrieve it.
Her fingers wrapped around the steel spiral of the notebook just as his hand met hers. The soft smooth skin beneath his fingers warmed him. Her shoulders shook as she sucked in a breath.
Then, with a determination that radiated from her to him, he felt her fortify her strength. The unease he’d sensed when the light had glared into her face vanished. She was completely under control.
The siren stopped as the lights flickered back on. They remained crouched by his desk. She, holding the notepad. He, holding her hand.
He gazed into her eyes. Although her back stretched strong and firm, her green eyes still held the uneasiness she’d shown moments ago. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Her green eyes flashed, a hint of gold burned like a bursting ember. He sensed something in the fiery depths. An unflinching vulnerability. Those two descriptions countered each other so completely that he stiffened like a man who realized he’d stopped making sense. A condition usually brought on by a woman.
The flash in her eyes disappeared, but the damage was done. Her brief yield had stirred up a primeval response. Shocked by the heat of his reaction, his hand dropped from the satiny skin of her hand.
Hannah stood and smoothed her skirt into place. Total concealment. He sat back on his heels and watched her race away.
Now more than ever he needed to know her secrets.
He could afford to bide his time. In two days it would be Saturday. He’d have her in the office all to himself.
HANNAH PADDED barefoot into her kitchen and spooned coffee into the basket. Her mind drifted to work as she waited for the coffee to brew.
She smelled a setup. Since her disastrous meeting with the security head on Thursday, it seemed she couldn’t evade him. The last thing she wanted was to be anywhere near the watchful gaze of Ward Coleman. Wherever she went…there he was. All six foot plus of outstanding male.
A delicious shiver went down her back. It had been so long. So long since she’d felt the steady warmth of a man’s hand. So long since she’d felt the mind-numbing pleasure of a man’s touch. So long since she’d hungered for a man. And she hungered for Ward Coleman.
And he wasn’t doing much to help her out. She couldn’t get a pencil out of the supply closet without him retrieving a pen. Forget about the break room. She hadn’t been there since the beginning of the week. And Friday was doughnut day, and the boss had sprung for Krispy Kreme. Coleman was gonna pay for that one.
The only place she could find any peace was in the ladies’ room, and Friday afternoon she could have sworn she saw him skulking by the men’s room across the hall.
But today was Saturday. Her special time alone in the office. No one asking for their password, no one complaining about the server being too slow. No one. In an hour, it would be just her, blank disks and a computer to back up.
She leaned against the counter and took in her tiny kitchen. She loved it. It was the first one she’d had with a dishwasher.