Overload

by Linda Howard

  “Some people just ask for it more than others.” She looked around, seeing nothing but empty desks and blank computer screens. “Where’s the break room?”

  “This way.” He led her down a dark interior hallway and opened the last door on the right.

  The room had two windows, so it wasn’t dark. A variety of vending machines lined one wall, offering soft drinks, coffee, juice and snacks. A microwave oven sat on a counter, and a silent refrigerator stood at another wall. There was a vinyl sofa with splits in the cushions that allowed the stuffing to show, and a number of folding chairs shoved haphazardly around two cafeteria tables.

  “Check the refrigerator while I open the machines,” Quinlan said. “See if there’s any ice. We don’t need it now, but it would be nice to know that it’s there just in case. Do it as fast as you can, to keep the cold air in.”

  “I do know about refrigerators and power failures,” she said pointedly. Swiftly she opened the freezer compartment, and vapor poured out as cold air met warm. There were six ice trays there, all of them full. She shut the door just as fast as she had opened it. “We have ice.”

  “Good.” He had the snack machine open and was removing packs of crackers.

  Elizabeth opened the main refrigerator door but was disappointed with the contents. A brown paper bag sat in lone splendor, with several translucent greasy spots decorating it. She had no interest in investigating its contents. There was an apple, though, and she took it. The shelves in the door were lined with various condiments, nothing that tempted her. The thought of putting ketchup on the honey bun was revolting.

  “Just an apple here,” she said.

  He finished loading his booty into the leather bag. “Okay, we have cakes, crackers and candy bars, plus the stuff you got from Chickie’s desk. My best guess is we’ll get out of here sometime tomorrow morning, so this should be more than enough. Do you want a soft drink, or juice? There’s water downstairs, so we don’t need to raid the drink machines. It’s strictly a matter of preference.”

  She thought about it, then shook her head. “Water will be enough.”

  He zipped the bag. “That’s it, then. Let’s make ourselves comfy downstairs.”

  “Should we leave a note?” she asked.

  “No need. I’ll take care of things when the power comes on and everything gets back to normal.”

  The trip downstairs was considerably easier with the aid of one of the flashlights, and soon they reentered the lobby, which was noticeably cooler because of the two-story ceiling. She looked out through the dark glass of the double entrance; the street was oddly deserted, with only the occasional car passing by. A patrol car crawled past as she watched. “It looks weird,” she murmured. “As if everyone has been evacuated.”

  “If the power doesn’t come back on,” Quinlan said in a grim tone, “it will probably get a lot busier once the sun goes down and things cool off a little. By the way, I tried to call out from my office, just to see what was going on and let someone know where we were, but I couldn’t get a call to go through. If there’s a city-wide blackout, which I suspect, the circuits will be jammed with calls. But I did find a battery-operated radio, so we’ll be able to listen to the news.”

  “Turn it on now,” she suggested, walking over to a sofa to dump her load on it. “Let’s find out what’s going on.”

  He opened the leather bag and took out a small radio, not even as big as her hand. After switching it on and getting only static, he began running through the frequencies, looking for a station. Abruptly a voice jumped out at them, astonishingly clear for such a small radio. “—the National Guard has been called out in several states to help prevent looting—”

  “Damn,” Quinlan muttered. “This sounds bad.”

  “Information is sketchy,” the announcer continued, “but more reports are coming in, and it looks as if there has been a massive loss of electrical power across the Southeast and most of Texas.”

  “I’m not an expert,” a second voice said, “but the southern tier of the country has been suffering under this heat wave for two weeks, and I imagine the demands for electricity overloaded the system. Have we had any word yet from the governor?”

  “Nothing yet, but the phone lines are tied up. Please, people, don’t use the telephones unless it’s an emergency. Folks can’t get through to 911 if you’re on the phone to your friends telling them that your power’s out, too. Believe me, they know.”

  The second announcer chimed in, “Remember the safety precautions the Health Department has been telling us for two weeks. It’s especially critical without electricity for air conditioning and fans. Stay out of the sun if possible. With the power off, open your windows for ventilation, and drink plenty of liquids. Don’t move around any more than you have to. Conserve your energy.”

  “We’ll be on the air all night long,” said the first announcer, “operating on emergency power. If anything happens you’ll hear it first here on—”

  Quinlan switched off the radio. “Well, now we know what happened,” he said calmly. “We’ll save the batteries as much as we can.”

  She gave him a mock incredulous look. “What? You mean you don’t have replacement batteries?”

  “It isn’t my radio.”

  It wasn’t necessary for him to add that if it had been, of course he would have had extra batteries. She wished it were his radio. And while she was wishing, she wished she had left the building on time, though she wasn’t certain she wouldn’t be in a worse situation at her condo. Certainly she was safer here, inside a sealed building.

  The magnitude of the problem was stunning. This wasn’t something that was going to be corrected in a couple of hours. It was possible they would still be locked in at this time tomorrow.

  She looked at Quinlan. “Are you sure it won’t get dangerously hot in here?”

  “Not absolutely positive, but reasonably sure. We’ll be okay. We have water, and that’s the most important thing. Actually, we’re probably as comfortable as anyone in this city is, except for those places that have emergency generators. If we start getting too warm, we’ll just take off some clothes.”

  Her heart literally jumped, sending her pulse rate soaring, and immediately she began to feel uncomfortably warm. Her stomach muscles clenched at the thought of lying naked in the darkness with him, but it was the tightness of desire. While her mind was wary, her body remembered the intense pleasure of his lovemaking.She turned back to the windows to keep him from reading her expression. Staring at the glass made her think of something else, and gratefully she seized on it.

  “When it gets dark, will anyone on the outside be able to see us in here when we turn on a flashlight? Does the privacy glazing work at night?”

  “Anyone who looked closely would be able to tell that there’s a light in here, I suppose,” he said thoughtfully. “But no one will be able to actually see us.”

  Just the possibility was enough. She had been about to arrange their supplies in the seating area closest to the entrance, but now she moved farther away. The lobby had several comfortable seating areas, and she chose one that was close to the middle. It was at least semiprivate, with a long, waist-high planter that created the sense of a small alcove. It was also closer to the bathrooms, making it a better choice all the way around.

  She arranged their food supplies on a low table, while Quinlan shoved the chairs around to make more room. Then he collected cushions from the other chairs and stacked them close to hand, ready to make into beds when they decided to sleep. Elizabeth gave the cushions a sidelong glance. She wasn’t sure she would be able to close her eyes with Quinlan so close by, or that it would be smart to sleep, even if she could.

  She looked at him and started when she found him watching her. He didn’t look away as he unknotted his tie and stripped it off, then unbuttoned his shirt down to his waist and rolled up his sleeves. His actions were practical, but the sight of his muscled, hairy chest and hard belly aroused a reaction i
n her that had nothing to do with common sense.

  “Why don’t you take off those panty hose?” he suggested in a low, silky voice. “They have to be damn hot.”

  They were. She hesitated, then decided wryly that it wasn’t the thin nylon that would protect her from him. Only she could do that. Quinlan wasn’t a rapist; if she said no, he wouldn’t force himself on her. She had never been afraid of that; her only fear was that she wouldn’t be able to say no. That was one reason why she had avoided him for the past six months. So leaving her panty hose on wouldn’t keep him from making love to her if she couldn’t say no, and taking them off wouldn’t put her at risk if she did keep herself under control. It was, simply, a matter of comfort.

  She got a flashlight and carried it into the public rest room, where she propped it on one of the basins. The small room felt stuffy and airless, so she hurriedly removed her panty hose and immediately felt much cooler. She turned on the cold water and held her wrists under the stream, using the time-proven method of cooling down, then dampened one of the paper towels and blotted her face. There. That was much better.

  A few deep breaths, a silent pep talk and she felt ready to hold Tom Quinlan at arm’s length for the duration. With her panty hose in one hand and the flashlight in the other, she returned to the lobby.

  He was waiting for her, sprawled negligently in one of the chairs, but those blue eyes watched her as intently as a tiger watches its chosen prey. “Now,” he said, “let’s have our little talk.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Her heart lurched in her chest. It strained her composure to walk over to the chairs and sit down, but she did it, even crossed her legs and leaned back as negligently as he. “All right,” she said calmly.

  He gave her that considering look again, as if he were trying to decide how to handle her. Mentally she bristled at the idea of being “handled,” but she forced down her irritation. She knew how relentless Quinlan could be when crossed; she would need to keep her thoughts ordered, not let him trip her up with anger.

  He remained silent, watching her, and she knew what he wanted. He had already asked the question; he was simply waiting for the answer.

  Despite herself, Elizabeth felt a spurt of anger, even after all these months. She faced him and went straight to the heart of the matter. “I found the file you had on me,” she said, every word clipped short. “You had me investigated.”

  “Ah.” He steepled his fingers and studied her over them. “So that’s it.” He paused a few seconds, then said mildly, “Of course I did.”

  “There’s no ‘of course’ to it. You invaded my privacy—”

  “As you invaded mine,” he interrupted smoothly. “That file wasn’t lying out in the open.”

  “No, it wasn’t. I looked in your desk,” she admitted without hesitation.

  “Why?”

  “I felt uneasy about you. I was looking for some answers.”

  “So why didn’t you ask me?” The words were as sharp as a stiletto.

  She gave him a wry, humorless smile. “I did. Many times. You’re a master at evasion, though. I’ve been to bed with you, but I don’t know much more about you right now than I did the day we met.”

  He neatly sidestepped the charge by asking, “What made you feel uneasy? I never threatened you, never pushed you. You know I own and run my company, that I’m solvent and not on the run.”

  “You just did it again,” she pointed out. “Your ability to evade is very good. It took me a while to catch on, but then I noticed that you didn’t answer my questions. You always responded, so it wasn’t obvious, but you’d just ask your own question and ignore mine.”

  He surveyed her silently for a moment before saying, “I’m not interested in talking about myself. I already know all the details.”

  “I’d say that the same holds true for me, wouldn’t you?” she asked sweetly. “I wanted to know about you, and got nowhere. But I didn’t have you investigated.”

  “I wouldn’t have minded if you had.” Not that she would have been able to find out much, he thought. Great chunks of his life after high school graduation weren’t to be found in public records.

  “Bully for you. I minded.”

  “And that’s it? You walked out on me and broke off our relationship because you were angry that I had you investigated? Why didn’t you just yell at me? Throw things at me? For God’s sake, Elizabeth, don’t you think you took it a little far?”

  His tone was both angry and incredulous, making it plain that he considered her reaction to be nothing short of hysteric, far out of proportion to the cause.

  She froze inside, momentarily paralyzed by the familiar ploy of being made to feel that she was in the wrong, that no matter what happened it was her fault for not being good enough. But then she fought the memories back; she would never let anyone make her feel that way again. She had gotten herself back, and she knew her own worth. She knew she hadn’t handled the matter well, but only in the way she had done it; the outcome itself had never been in question.

  Her voice was cool when she replied. “No, I don’t think I took it too far. I’d been feeling uneasy about you for quite a while. Finding that you had investigated me was the final factor, but certainly not all of it.”

  “Because I hadn’t answered a few questions?” That incredulous note was still there.

  “Among other things.”

  “Such as?”

  In for a penny, in for a pound. “Such as your habit of taking over, of ignoring my objections or suggestions as if I hadn’t even said anything.”

  “Objections to what?” Now the words were as sharp as a lash. His blue eyes were narrowed and vivid. A bit surprised, she realized that he was angry again.

  She waved her hand in a vague gesture. “Any little thing. I didn’t catalog them—”

  “Surprises the hell out of me,” he muttered.

  “But you were constantly overriding me. If I told you I was going shopping, you insisted that I wait until you could go with me. If I wanted to wear a sweater when we were going out, you insisted that I wear a coat. Damn it, Quinlan, you even tried to make me change where I bank!”

  His eyebrows rose. “The bank you use now is too far away. The one I suggested is much more convenient.”

  “For whom? If I’m perfectly happy with my bank, then it isn’t inconvenient for me, is it?”

  “So don’t change your bank. What’s the big deal?”

  “The big deal,” she said slowly, choosing her words, “is that you want to make all the decisions, handle everything yourself. You don’t want a relationship, you want a dictatorship.”

  One moment he was lounging comfortably, long legs sprawled out in front of him; the next he was in front of her, bending over to plant his hands on the arms of her chair and trap her in place. Elizabeth stared up at him, blinking at the barely controlled rage in his face, but she refused to let herself shrink from him. Instead she lifted her chin and met him glare for glare.

  “I don’t believe it!” he half shouted. “You walked out on me because I wanted you to change banks? God in heaven.” He shoved himself away from the chair and stalked several paces away, running his hand through his hair.

  “No,” she shouted back, “I walked out because I refuse to let you take over my life!” She was unable to sit still, either, and surged out of the chair. Instantly Quinlan whirled with those lightning-quick reactions of his, catching her arms and hauling her close to him, so close that she could see the white flecks in the deep blue of his irises and smell the hot, male scent of his body. Her nostrils flared delicately as she instinctively drank in the primal signal, even though she stiffened against his touch.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were married before?”

  The question was soft, and not even unexpected, but still she flinched. Of course he knew; it had been in that damn investigative report.

  “It isn’t on my list of conversational topics,” she snapped. “But neither is it a state
secret. If our relationship had ever progressed far enough, I would have told you then. What was I supposed to do, trot out my past life the minute we met?”

  Quinlan watched her attentively. As close as they were, he could see every flicker of expression on her face, and he had noticed the telltale flinch even though she had replied readily enough. Ah, so there was something there.

  “Just how far did our relationship have to go?” he asked, still keeping his voice soft. “We weren’t seeing anyone else. We didn’t actually have sex until that last night together, but things got pretty hot between us several times before that.”

  “And I was having doubts about you even then,” she replied just as softly.

  “Maybe so, but that didn’t stop you from wanting me, just like now.” He bent his head and settled his mouth on hers, the pressure light and persuasive. She tried to pull away and found herself powerless against his strength, even though he was taking care not to hurt her. “Be still,” he said against her lips.

  Desperately she wrenched her head away. He forced it back, but instead of kissing her again, he paused with his mouth only a fraction of an inch above hers. “Why didn’t you tell me about it?” he murmured, his warm breath caressing her lips and making them tingle. With his typical relentlessness, he had fastened on an idea and wouldn’t let it go until he was satisfied with the answer. The old blind fear rose in her, black wings beating, and in panic she started to struggle. He subdued her without effort, wrapping her in a warm, solid embrace from which there was no escape.

  “What happened?” he asked, brushing light kisses across her mouth between words. “What made you flinch when I mentioned it? Tell me about it now. I need to know. Did he run around on you?”

  “No.” She hadn’t meant to answer him, but somehow, caught in those steely arms and cradled against his enticing heat, the word slipped out in a whisper. She heard it and shuddered. “No!” she said more forcefully, fighting for control. “He didn’t cheat.” If only he had, if only his destructive attention had been diluted in that way, it wouldn’t have been so bad. “Stop it, Quinlan. Let me go.”