The Cutting Edge by Linda Howard Page B

the hard, determined note in his voice. She was accustomed to being pursued, but Brett was a man who not only chased, but caught his prey. Her frail butterfly wings would be useless against his power, yet she wouldn’t feel threatened at all if she knew she could entrust herself to him. Did he want her for herself, or did he only want to conquer her because of the challenge she represented, to catch the fragile and elusive butterfly simply so he could say she’d belonged to him for a while?
    Perhaps he saw some of her doubts reflected on her face, in her clear green eyes, because he slid his hand down to boldly cup her bottom, propelling her forward to press her hips against his in a gesture so provocative and possessive that she barely stifled the startled cry that came to her lips. “Get used to it,” he drawled, and something frightening moved in his navy eyes.
    Her face burning, Tessa looked around hastily to see if anyone had seen him, but no one was paying anyattention to them, and she felt her color begin to fade. The evening, which had begun so quietly, was getting out of hand. “I want to go home now, please,” she told him evenly.
    â€œAre you certain? It’s still early.”
    â€œYes, I’m certain. I’d like to go now.”
    Perhaps she was being foolish in abandoning a public place for a private one, but Tessa felt that she could handle herself better without an audience. He wasn’t the kind of man to force a woman; she had no fear that the evening would end in a wrestling match. Even given the provocation of the way she’d kissed him the first time they’d gone out together, he’d been more understanding than she would have expected any man to be, under the circumstances. The problem was that when he kissed her, she didn’t want him to stop. Ever. And there was a sensual determination about him now that made her pulse rate increase. If he pressed the issue, would she give in? She was weak, because she wanted very much to give in; she wanted to be in his bed and give herself to him. The strong physical attraction she’d felt for him from the beginning was rapidly intensifying. She was beginning to love him, despite everything her common sense was telling her. She knew that he was a walking heartache, a man who had such a strong sensual appeal to women that he probably couldn’t even remember the names of those who had shared their beds with him.
    She was silent on the drive to her apartment, and so was he, though occasionally she could feel his intent gaze on her. If only she could read his thoughts! But he kept them well-hidden, and she had no idea what he wanted from her beyond the obvious: physical gratification. To really know him would be a lifetime occupation, she thought. He kept himself too well guarded; he was so cool, so controlled even in his passion. The woman who broke that control would find herself with a volcano on her hands, but Tessa shivered with excitement at the thought of being that woman.
    Once again he preceded her into the apartment and checked all of the rooms before returning her key to her. She stood still, a little wary as he approached her, and a faint smile touched his chiseled mouth as he put his hand beneath her chin and tilted her face up to him. “You pretty little witch,” he whispered, his warm breath caressing her face. “You tie a man in knots with your flirt-and-retreat games. You can keep on flirting, baby, but I’m going to put an end to those teasing retreats. Kiss me. I’ve been driving myself crazy for two days, thinking about your mouth and the way you taste.” He brushed his lips over hers in a light, tantalizing caress. “Kiss me,” he demanded again, then took the choice away from her by fastening his mouth on hers, hard, his tongue going deep and again giving her his heady taste. Her eyes closed on a hot swell of pleasure, and her hands clenched his shoulders.
    They