Barton’s nostrils flared as he looked up into the officer’s hard features. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“No? Your company was low bidder on those bearings. I’m not risking my neck for your shoddy work-manship again. Nice try to smear me in there, but it didn’t work.”
Barton backed through the entrance of the open office. It was a small secretarial office and everyone had left for the day.
“Smear?” he asked weakly. “Hardly, Major—”
Shep advanced upon him menacingly. He reached out, jabbing Barton in the chest with his index finger. “I don’t care what you try to do to me, Barton,” he breathed, leaning over him. “But I won’t let you harass Tess Hamilton.” His lips drew away from his teeth. “You spread rumors that we were having an affair, Barton. And it was a lie. You helped cause Cy Hamilton’s death, did you know that?”
Derek’s eyes widened, the pupils contracting in fear. He backed away from Ramsey until he was stopped by a desk behind him. The briefcase dropped with a bang to the floor. He started to lean over to retrieve it when the Air Force officer reached out, gripping his lapels and jerking him upright.
“Answer me!” Shep snarled.
Barton gave a small cry. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” he squealed, caught between the officer and the desk.
“You’re lying—”
Anger shot through Barton’s fear. His eyes narrowed to slits. “Get your hands off me, Major,” he rasped, trying to bluff his way out of the situation.
“No way.”
“Please!” he begged. “Let me go!”
Shep smiled grimly. “People like you are afraid of confrontation. You do your best work by spreading cruel gossip. I know your kind.” His grip tightened, bringing Barton inches from his face. “If I hear one more filthy word out of your mouth about Tess Hamilton or the job she’s doing here for Rockwell, I’ll make damn sure—”
Barton suddenly raised both arms, knocking Shep’s hands away. He quickly backed around the desk, breathing hard, his face glistening, feeling bolder now that the desk formed a barrier between them. “You’ll what, Ramsey? You don’t scare me, war hero. Take your goddamn medals and shove ’em. You and that bitch are nothing but troublemakers. You got it in for me, and I want to see you off this project! I’m not letting some lousy Air Force pilot take seventy million away from me and—”
Shep snarled an obscenity, reaching out. Anger roared through him. He jerked Barton forward by the coat, dragging him halfway across the desk before Barton realized he had been caught. Shep brought back his fist. A sense of pleasure seared through him as he connected solidly with Barton’s narrow jaw, sending him sprawling on the floor. Barton uttered a cry, scrambling to his knees, holding his bleeding mouth. Before the contractor could scream for help, Shep leaned down, picked him up and slammed him against the wall.
“Don’t let me ever hear you call her a bitch.” Shep tightened his hold on Barton. He had gripped Barton’s shirt, effectively shutting off his air supply. Barton struggled weakly, his face turning redder and redder. “Do you hear me?” Shep snarled next to his ear.
Barton squeaked, struggling wildly. Disgusted, Shep released the little man, letting him drop unceremoniously to the floor in a gasping heap. Shep’s knuckles were skinned and bleeding where he had connected solidly with Barton’s mouth. He was breathing hard, adrenaline pumping through his tense body as he continued to stand there, waiting for Barton’s answer.
Barton glared up at him through watering eyes. “I’ll sue you for this!” he mumbled, holding his aching jaw. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
“Just try it. You killed a man, Barton, with your lies. You hurt a woman for no justifiable reason except for your own damn selfish interest in money. If I hear one word out of that ugly mouth of yours about her from this time on, I’ll come hunting you in earnest.”
“The courts would be interested in your threats,” Barton hurled back.
Shep smiled coldly, forcing down the anger. “There isn’t a witness, Barton. It’s your word against mine. And after that little political display of razzle-dazzle at the meeting this morning, I wouldn’t have any problem establishing that you have it in for me personally. Come after me all you want, but leave Tess out of this. You understand?”
Grudgingly Barton nodded, looking down at the floor tiles. Shep walked quietly to the door, pulling it closed as he walked out of the room. Picking up his briefcase, he continued down the hall toward the bank of elevators.
*
Tess looked up and smiled as Shep sauntered through the open door to her office. She placed her pen down on a stack of papers. Her smile disappeared as she caught sight of his unreadable features. “What’s wrong?” Tess asked, suddenly concerned.
Shep put the briefcase down by the door and walked over. “You about ready to leave for the day?” he asked, ignoring her concern. Shep saw her gaze settle on his right hand. He inwardly chastised himself for not going to the men’s room first and cleaning off the scrapes and blood across his knuckles.
Her blue eyes widened enormously as she looked at his uniform, which had become slightly rumpled during the scuffle. “Something happened,” she said, making it a statement, not a question.
“A little run-in with Barton,” he answered casually.
Tess stood, her face revealing her sudden anxiety. “Your hand is bloody and swollen. What did you do?”
“Hit him.”
“Oh, my God…”
“It’s okay,” he explained calmly, “he’s had it coming for a long time.”
Tess stood there, staring across the desk at him. If something like this had happened six months ago, she would have been unable to cope with it. Gone was the little girl who had hidden behind the protective shield of Cy Hamilton. “Well, I suggest you come home with me and I’ll clean it up for you. Some antiseptic is in order.”
He grinned. “Yeah, he’s poisonous, all right. Maybe I ought to get a rabies shot.”
Tess pulled her purse from the bottom left drawer and shut off the office light. “You can tell me what happened on the way home,” she said, ignoring his bit of humor.
“Only if you still promise to have dinner with me.”
She turned, looking up at him. “Will a quiet dinner at home be okay? I don’t feel like going out tonight. It’s been one hell of a day.”
Chapter 13
SHEP SAT QUIETLY ON THE BAR STOOL IN THE KITCHEN while Tess cleaned his hand. Her touch was gentle, soothing.
Traffic on a Friday night in L.A. was always a nightmare. By the time they had arrived at her home, both she and Shep were exhausted. He had ambled over to the liquor cabinet, making each of them a stiff drink. Ordinarily, Tess wouldn’t have had anything stronger than wine, but tonight she finished off a Scotch on the rocks without hesitating.
As she leaned over to examine her handiwork, Shep inhaled the scent of her hair. He moved the hair away from her neck, placing a kiss on the soft nape. Tess smiled.
“I should play nurse more often.”
“You like the reward?” he asked huskily, taking her into his arms.
Tess turned her back against him, content to remain within the protective enclosure of his arms. She rested her head lightly against his, closing her eyes. The Scotch had relaxed her, easing all those tightened muscles in her neck and shoulders. Shep’s nearness only increased her contented feeling of well-being. “Just being able to see you again is reward enough,” she murmured.
He nuzzled her cheek. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she answered, laughing quietly.
“Got some good news for you,” he said. “Maybe you already know about it.”
She turned around, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “What?” she asked, caught up in the moment.
He gave a low growl as she pressed the front of her body against him. “Easy,” he warned, pulling her even closer.
Suddenly the rest of the world seemed ver
y far away. Tess had missed him desperately during the long week. Now she was in his arms again, feeling the strength of his muscles. Resting her head on his shoulder, she whispered, “What’s the good news, Major Ramsey?”
“I’ve been chosen to fly in the first team.”
Her heart skipped a beat. She stood very still, digesting the news.
“Honey?”
“What? Oh, I think that’s wonderful,” she answered faintly, unable to muster the necessary enthusiasm.
Shep held her at arm’s length, appraising her face. He noted a shadow of fear in her blue eyes and recalled how terrified Tess had looked as he’d disembarked from the van after the emergency landing. And now, she looked the same way—her face was drained of color, eyes wide, lips parted in surprise. He gave her a small shake. “Why are you frightened, Tess?” he asked gently. A warm smile pulled at his mouth. “Come on, what is it?”
Tess pulled away, turning and walking to the bathroom. Shakily she put away the antiseptic cream in the medicine cabinet. Shep was going to be the first to fly the B-1. The first. The last? Fear clawed in her throat as Tess stared at herself in the mirror. Swallowing against tears, she walked back to the bar where he had remained sitting. How handsome he looked. He had taken off his uniform coat; his light blue shirt was open at the collar, minus the dark blue tie. He looked more relaxed tonight than he had ever before.
“I—” she stumbled, pushing a stray strand of hair from her temple. “To be honest, I’m scared, Shep,” she blurted out, giving him a wary look. He probably expected her to be ecstatic about the appointment. After all, she had worked her tail off educating the public about the B-1 and understood what it meant to the future of avionics. And with education, fear always dissolved. But not this time. Because this time she was frightened for the man she loved.
Shep stood, bringing her back into his arms, holding her in silence for a long moment. He could feel her heart beating wildly in her breast and embraced her tightly. “Why are you scared?” he wanted to know.
Tess shut her eyes tightly, burying her head against his chest. His heartbeat was so solid, so steady. Did Shep ever get upset or lose control? Only in matters that concerned her did he become emotional. Tess remembered the night they had argued heatedly at his house. Tears began to run down her cheeks and she raised her hand, trying to brush them away. “It’s nothing,” she whispered tightly. “Just my overactive imagination. I—I guess that in-flight emergency last Sunday has made me jumpy.”
Shep laughed gently, placing a kiss on her silken hair. “In that case, accept your worry as a sign that you care,” he said. “Believe me, honey, I’ll be very careful.” He gave her a quick kiss. “After all, I have you to come home to.” He offered her a smile of encouragement. “Lets discuss this after dinner, okay? Come on, I’ll help you in the kitchen. I make a pretty mean salad when 1 put my mind to it.”
Tess rallied, blotting the tears away. Her heart had wrung in anguish when he had said “care.” Was that all they shared? A feeling of caring for one another? She knew the answer. It was much much more than that. She loved him. “Okay,” she agreed, trying to gather her scattered thoughts. “I think I can scrounge up a few steaks.”
He gave her a final squeeze, releasing her from his arms. “Why don’t you get into your jeans and get comfortable?”
“What about you?” she asked.
He glanced down at the uniform he was wearing. “Well, it’s either this or my birthday suit. I’ll make this uniform as comfortable as possible.” He unbuttoned the cuffs, rolling them up on his strong forearms.
Tess managed a small smile. “I was just thinking that you might get your clothes dirty working in the kitchen.”
“Oh. Then the sight of an Air Force uniform doesn’t bother you?” he teased.
“Never did.”
“It’s a good thing,” he growled, heading toward the kitchen, which was airy and filled with hanging plants.
She changed into a pair of jeans, a scoop-necked pink T-shirt and socks. Padding quietly into the kitchen, Tess halted at the entrance, a smile playing at the corners of her full lips. Shep had all the necessary vegetables neatly arranged in a row on the draining board in front of him. Then he began chopping away methodically. She admired his skill with the knife, the sureness of his quick, clean motions. Folding her arms across her breast, Tess leaned against the entrance.
“Maybe you missed your calling.”
Shep glanced over his shoulder. “Oh?”
“You look so professional at what you’re doing, I’m tempted to just stand back and let you fix dinner.”
“Why don’t you?” His gray eyes warmed as he turned and admired her relaxed form. “Take the night off. How about if I pour us a glass of wine and you sit at the bar while I do the work?”
“Sounds good to me,” Tess said, walking to the cabinet and taking down two crystal goblets. “Ever broil a steak?”
Shep came over with the wine after uncorking it. “A few times. Trust me?” he asked.
“With my life,” she murmured, suddenly serious.
He placed the bottle on the draining board, handing her the glass filled with a delicate rose wine. Their fingers touched as she took the glass. Before he released it, he leaned over and kissed her lips. His mouth parted her lips, telling her of his need for her. Finally, after a heady few seconds, Tess drew away. Her blue eyes were wide with gold flecks of stirring passion. She walked to the bar, making herself comfortable on one of the padded stools. He stood there, hands on his hips, an amused smile lingering on his strong mouth.
“Kissing you is like having dessert,” he said.
She colored prettily beneath his approving gaze. “But my stomach is still starving.”
He feigned hurt, returning to the task of making the salad. “That’s not a very romantic statement from an Irish princess.”
Tess sipped the wine. “Whereas you, Major Ramsey, are proving to be an incurable romantic.”
“Comes with the territory, didn’t you know?”
“Hmm, I thought as much. That’s why the American public sees you all as romantic catches. Test pilots are men who fly on the edge of danger. What woman wouldn’t like to have a romantic hero like that drop into her arms?”
Shep shrugged. “I’d rather have a romantic heroine drop into my arms.” He walked over to Tess, placing the salad on the bar.
“You’re looking at the wrong person then,” she laughed, blushing beneath his intense appraisal.
“No, I’m not. Look at what you’ve done in the past year since Cy’s death. You kept your job as assistant against heavy odds and proved your mettle under fire. Furthermore,” he murmured, reaching out and placing his finger beneath her chin, “you’ve matured into a very lovely woman. I’m proud of you, Tess. Proud of the way you’re handling everything despite the emotional catch up you’ve had to play. That takes real courage, Princess.”
Tess swallowed hard. The caress of his finger beneath her jaw was feather-light. Her heart pulsed strongly within her breast. “I don’t feel very much like a heroine,” she managed quietly.
Shep allowed his hand to drop, and he stood there, mirth dancing in his gray eyes. “Now you know how test pilots feel. We don’t see ourselves as heroes either. We just do a job. Just like you’ve been doing your job. And very well, I might add.”
Tess lingered over her glass of wine as he prepared the steaks. Afterward, at the dining room table, she decided to broach the subject of Derek Barton.
“What happened between you and Barton?” she asked quietly.
Shep grimaced. “He tried to question my credentials in front of everyone. Then he turned on you.” He put the goblet down in front of him, his brow furrowed. “I didn’t mind the personal insult to me. But when he started on you, and you weren’t there to defend yourself, I had to speak out. Fred came to your aid also, I might add.”
She raised her brows. “Fred did?”
“Yes. You’re beginning to have peop
le on your side in management.”
“Finally,” she groused, forcing a tight smile. Tilting her head, she gazed over at him. “You didn’t get into a fight in the boardroom, did you?”
“No. Luckily,” he mused. “Can you see it now? I’d lose my flight status on the B-1 program for sure if that had happened.”
“What makes you think he won’t make waves anyway, Shep?”
He ran his finger lightly around the rim of his glass. “He might try, but there weren’t any witnesses to the incident. It’s his word against mine. Besides, all I did was bloody his mouth and probably loosen a few teeth. Too bad I didn’t break his damn jaw. That would have shut him up for a while.”
She nodded. “That would have stopped him from gossiping at least,” she agreed. “What was the outcome?”
He shrugged, getting to his feet and clearing the dishes from the table. Tess followed him to the kitchen, helping him wash the utensils. “The outcome is the same, honey. We’ve got an enemy on our hands. He knows that I’ll be watching his ball bearings. And he’s also aware that you’re going to continue to check the specs on them through your laboratories to make sure they meet requirements.”
Tess took a towel from the drawer and began drying the dishes as he washed them. “Barton and his company are a strong argument for not taking the low bid,” she remarked.
“You’ve been testing his product. How does it stand up?”
“He’s meeting the minimum spec, Shep. Technically, there’s nothing wrong with that because our engineers have built in safety factors far above the tolerances that are needed. It’s just that Barton will cheat if you don’t keep an eye on him constantly. I don’t like having to distrust a contractor like that.”
“There’s no honor with his type,” he agreed.
Tess prepared a light dessert of strawberry crepes later. They lingered over coffee in the living room. Shep placed his cup and saucer on the coffee table. “Come on over here, we’ve got some talking to do,” he urged, holding out his hand.
She left the overstuffed chair she was sitting in and walked up to him. It was natural to fold her body next to his on the couch, to rest in the protection of his arms. Tess nuzzled his neck, closing her eyes, content. The meal had been excellent. But more important, the company had been perfect. She hadn’t recognized the extent of her loneliness since Cy’s passing. Placing her arms around Shep’s torso, she gave a small sigh.
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