Share the Darkness

Dinah gave her a look somewhere between disbelief and disgust. She pointed to the poster to her left. “It Only Takes One Ember To Make A Blaze? Whatever.”

Dinah rolled her eyes, and Hannah couldn’t help but laugh.

“When is Protter going to figure out what we really need is a raise? Or maybe just a casual day other than when it’s a thousand degrees outside. I think not wearing hose, and having to visit the dry cleaners every other week is worth the piddly cost-of-living increase he gave us last year.”

Hannah hadn’t been at P&L last year. With the tantalizingly dangerous new presence of the head of security, she might not be much longer this year, either. First she needed to redirect Dinah’s thoughts.

She tugged the pager off her waistband, and tossed it on the table. “I don’t have to be in the office to do my job. I’m always available. The server pages me when it goes down. Besides, it’s easier for me to do my work at nights and on weekends for one simple reason. You all aren’t here to mess everything up. You take one measly computer class, and you think you can fiddle with the parameters. Settings changed. Passwords lost.”

“You’re never going to let me live down the password thing, are you?”

“It was three passwords. Three in one day.”

Dinah waved the paper at her. “You’re getting me completely off course on the whole reason for my visit. Latest memo from human resources.”

Hannah took the paper from her and scanned it.

“I’ll leave you to devour the contents later. I’ll just give you the highlights. Boss man has a new decree. Better get over the shy thing with Ward Coleman.”

“Why?”

“Because later you get to meet with him face-to-face.”

2

WARD KNEW WHEN he was being avoided.

A woman avoided a man for only two reasons. She either didn’t want him, or she wanted him bad. Okay, not rocket science, but it had worked since he’d hit nineteen, and managed to figure out a few things about women, other than the obvious.

And the obvious was Hannah wanted him B-A-D. She’d also stretched avoidance to Olympic proportions. It didn’t take a federal agent to spot the ducking-intoa-doorway routine.

Two could play. In fact, one of Ward’s favorite pastimes was toying with the bad guy. Or in this case, girl. In the last two days, he’d made a special point of getting in her way. When Hannah poured her morning coffee in the break room, he held the sugar. When she made a few copies, he, being the new guy around, always needed help with the machine. And oh, his password. How many times had he forgotten it? And when he asked for her to write it down, he got a sample of her handwriting as well as her fingerprints.

This case should be a piece of cake. One more week to ferret out the culprit, another week or so of tracing all the wire transfers, searching through the files and generally doing all the paperwork he hated. He’d discovered something about investment bankers; they liked a lot of paper. A lovefest of forms. Which meant he’d have to spend a lot of time doing the tedious cataloging of evidence.

Ward studied his appointment list. Most of the employees had eagerly met with him to discuss security issues. Except Hannah. But she couldn’t avoid him today, even though she’d signed up for the last possible time slot on the last possible day.

Ward glanced at the clock, which indicated he had to wait only another five minutes before his reckoning with Hannah.

Anticipation made his muscles tighten. Not much longer and he’d have Hannah all to himself. He’d be able to question her without evasion, hear the sexy huskiness of her voice. Meet the green of her eyes.

He’d already narrowed his search to three individuals with access to the computer system. As head of those computer systems, Hannah had designed the very software someone was using to launder the money.

Would Hannah blatantly use her own software? Wouldn’t make much sense. She struck him as one smart lady. But then the security was so lax at P&L, it was only a matter of time before someone took advantage of it. Was that someone Hannah Garrett?

Something in his gut told him…damn. That was the problem. When it came to her, he had nothing. Zilch. Oh, he had a lot of gut reactions where Hannah was concerned, but not a single clue as to what made the lady tick. Frustrated, he curled his fingers around the edges of her résumé. He’d looked at the thing half a dozen times. He quelled the urge to crush it into a ball.

Okay, maybe things weren’t all bad. He did have a gut reaction with her work history. It was perfect. College placement counselors could teach a course with it. And there lay the problem. He scanned the text again. He knew the answer to Hannah’s secrets hid in what the brief bio didn’t tell.

A soft knock drew his attention away from the paper and to the very person occupying his thoughts. For a moment, he didn’t breathe. Framed in the door, Hannah didn’t appear so mysterious. He still wanted her. She’d mastered her red curls into that neat knot she liked. He still wanted her. Her strong features remained expressionless, and she’d plopped a pair of dark-framed glasses on her nose. He still wanted her. She radiated the very picture of a professional computer programmer…and he still wanted her.

She radiated the very picture of a very irritated professional computer programmer. She tapped her pencil against the notepad in a cadence that suggested she wouldn’t mind flinging the pencil at his face. Hard.

He smiled at her.

The pencil tapped harder.

She took several graceful steps into the room, and sat in the chair he indicated. Efficient and professional. Once again her green eyes gave her away. With a touch of surprise, he noted they weren’t the clear green he’d expected. A cloudiness masked the rich verdant hue. All the better to conceal.

Ward widened his smile to a nice open invitation. “I’m glad you joined me.”

“I didn’t have much choice.”

He smiled again. She resumed the tapping. “It won’t be that bad, most people have given me excellent suggestions for improving security.”

“This meeting isn’t necessary. I already outlined all my suggestions in a memo to Mr. Protter. I CC’d human resources and you.”

Ah, yes. The neatly typed pages he’d placed with his handwritten notes. He had to appear as if he were doing 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.