Lindsay McKenna - Love Me Before Dawn

Oddly, Tess felt safe with him. She didn’t know why. He seemed to intuitively know how to make her feel more secure in these surroundings. More secure around him.

He leaned down, his features mobile and readable. It surprised Tess because he had seemed distant an instant before. “Would you like a drink? Looks like you could use one.”

She responded immediately to the intimate, quiet quality of his husky voice. She managed a nervous smile. “I—yes. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to appear so flighty. It’s just that…” Tess saw him nod, his fingers briefly squeezing her arm.

“You don’t belong here,” was all he said. “Wait by the balcony doors. What do you drink?”

Her heart was skipping beats. Tess groaned inwardly as she blushed a second time. “Just wine.”

Shep stood there, drinking in the sight of her upturned, flushed face. She couldn’t be any more beautiful in that moment. Her blue eyes were wide and trusting, her lips were like rare, dark pink flower petals. She was looking to him for protection and that was something he wanted to give her. It would be easy to bestow it on her. He heard the uncertainty of her soft wispy voice. It sent an unnamed quiver through his taut body. “Red or white? What about champagne?”

Tess laughed softly. “Not champagne or I’m afraid you’ll find me under some table.”

He smiled. “Okay. We don’t need you under a table. I’ll be back in a moment.”

Tess watched him turn and walk away, her knees feeling weak. Was it the aura of power at this gathering or simply the presence of Captain Shepherd Ramsey that was making her feel like this? She had to get hold of herself, regardless. Gripping her small evening bag until her knuckles whitened, Tess tried to calm her nerves.

He was never out of sight, even though he had left her side. She was amazed at his calmness. He walked like a panther prowling disinterestedly through the clusters of people, head held high, aloof, unique. Were all test pilots like that? Such men had charisma, she knew. It was the glamor job of the Air Force, but Ramsey’s appeal went deeper than that.

She took a deep, steadying breath, realizing that she was glad to be in his care. With him, she could relax.

“YOU KNOW, FOR A PARTY THIS SIZE, YOU’D THINK THEY’D have wine at the bar.” Shep apologetically handed her the glass of champagne and gave her a wry smile. “Guess we’ll have to make sure you don’t go under the table.”

Tess reached for the glass, her fingers making contact with his own. A pleasurable tingle went up her arm. Had he hesitated before pulling away? So much was happening that she was unable to be certain of anything where he was concerned. “That’s all right, Captain Ramsey,” she heard herself say, “I’ll just hold it. That way everyone will think I’m imbibing.”

“I see. Play the game, is that it?” He pushed open the balcony door, guiding her out onto the tile patio.

“I find game playing very taxing, Captain.”

He pulled her gently to a stop at the waist-high stone balustrade. As much as he wanted to keep holding her arm, he allowed his hand to drop to his side. He had read fear in her eyes upon first meeting her. Was she unsure of herself with men? Looking down at her youthful features, he knew the answer to that. “Call me Shep,” he urged. He turned and leaned against the still sun-warmed stone which overlooked the glittering valley of Los Angeles. “You couldn’t play a game if you tried,” he said, amusement tinging his voice. “Your eyes give you away.”

She took a gulp of the champagne, resting against the balcony, facing him. He was so close… “Cy has told me again and again to maintain a poker face.” She chewed on her lower lip, completely crushed by the fact that Shep could read her so easily.

Shep turned his head toward her. “Why?” he asked, perplexed. Why take away her natural spontaneity? He watched a variety of emotions flit across her features. Her skin was a flawless peach color, her nose and cheeks lightly sprinkled with freckles. He noted with pleasure that she wore little makeup; she made no attempt to hide those telltale freckles. He smiled to himself. Despite her uncertainty in these surroundings, she was not afraid to show her individuality.

Nervously, Tess took another gulp of champagne. “Administrative assistants are supposed to know how to deal effectively with every management situation. And with aplomb. Part of it is controlling your body language and facial 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.”