Trading Secrets (5 page)

Stunned, Sabrina could only shake her head in mute denial as he disgustedly shoved her away from him. She stared at him as he turned to stalk toward the door.

“I want you out of this job and out of Silicon Valley. In fact, lady, I want you out of California,” he shouted from the doorway.

“I don’t work for you,” she managed. “You can’t fire me.”

“Either you quit today or I’ll bring this company down on its ass. I can do it, Sabrina. This firm is strung out to the hilt on borrowed capital. I’ll take it over and I’ll fire you myself if I have to. Greg’s probably going to prison because of you. Do you think I’m going to let you keep this cushy job while he suffers? Get out of the state, bitch. Believe me, I’ll see to it you never work here again. I’m going to let every computer firm in California know you were the real reason behind Greg’s deal with the Russians.”

Then, as if the sight of her was too much for him, Talbot Sheffield had slammed out of the office, leaving a dazed and slightly sick-feeling Sabrina behind.

In the end he hadn’t had to make good his threat to ruin Sabrina’s firm. Sheffield had simply planted the suspicion of her in her employers’ minds, and that was all it took. Working conditions soon became intolerable. The rumors and speculation were enough to drive anyone away, much less someone who was rapidly growing disgusted with the whole volatile world of high technology. Sabrina resigned her job a month later. It wasn’t the first job she had left because she’d run afoul of authority, but it was the first one she’d actually been forced out of, and the knowledge bit deeply. She’d sold the condo. Then she’d packed the Alfa Romeo and left for the new frontier: Dallas, Texas.

En route to the land they called the Third Coast, Sabrina had faced a few facts. One of them was that it was time she packed in the attempt to make it in the corporate world. People with her maverick tendencies needed to be their own bosses. Never again would she let her career and her reputation be vulnerable to a man like Talbot Sheffield.

The headlines about her involvement had hit during Greg’s trial. The FBI hadn’t considered her worth any more than a few questions. She hadn’t even been called to testify. But the newspapers had a field day—with the encouragement of Talbot Sheffield, she had no doubt—labeling her the “expensive mistress” who had driven a good man to sell his company’s secrets. Getting her to quit her job, apparently, had not been enough to satisfy Sheffield’s sense of justice. Sabrina hoped bitterly that the scandal he had created around her name was sufficient to quench his thirst for retribution. It would be all he would get from her, she’d sworn. And if fortune ever granted her a shot at revenge she would grab it in a flash.

The headlines and the speculation they had caused had lasted only a couple of weeks and had interested chiefly just the business world of the West Coast. But that was more than enough time to reach the staid little town in Oregon where her father and two brothers ran the main bank.

She knew what it had cost their sober, pillars-of-the-community souls to stand behind her, but they had claimed to believe her side of the story. Nevertheless, Sabrina knew it had shocked all of them deeply, providing one more damning bit of evidence that she sorely lacked guidance and discipline.

They had all hoped for the best when she had announced her intention of starting over again in Texas, but their hopes had been dashed. Her new lifestyle was sending cold chills through the restrained offices of the bank. Sabrina’s fierce determination to live by her own rules was terrifying the three men of the Chase family.

“A souvenir shop? Little ashtrays and cowboy hats?” her father had raged long distance. “Sabrina, you’re an accountant!”

“Not anymore, Dad. I’m a scarlet woman, given to leading young men to their doom, remember?”

“Nolan and Jeffrey and I know you would never have done such a thing,” her father had assured her quietly. “The papers always blow that sort of thing out of all proportion. Frankly, I’m just as glad you’ve decided to start over in another state, however. It wouldn’t have been easy to overcome the scandal down there in California. One’s business reputation is a precious commodity, easily damaged.”

Sabrina had heard the lecture on several previous occasions and had quickly moved to nip it in the bud this time. “Mine’s more than damaged, Dad. It’s dead and buried. Out here in Texas, though, no one cares. Want to buy a stuffed armadillo?”

“This is hardly a joking matter,” her father had pointed out grimly.

“It certainly wasn’t a joking matter for the armadillo,” Sabrina had agreed absently, glancing across the counter at the stiff little creature. “Most of them come to a sad end out on the highway. They don’t move fast enough. But at least this one got himself immortalized.”

Bennet Chase had made a few more valiant attempts to redirect the focus of the conversation, but he knew he’d lost control of it. Attempts to exert fatherly guidance over his one daughter ended in this fashion more and more frequently these days. His last really successful effort had been to bulldoze her into taking accounting courses in college. It had been decidedly downhill from there. Now he had to face the fact that she had gone off the deep end entirely. Selling stuffed armadillos in Dallas was probably about as far as a respectable young accountant could fall.

Sabrina knew that her sober, responsible family, all males since her mother had died, feared for her future. She had fought their natural dominance all her life, but now she had truly slipped out of their grasp entirely.

What everyone was going to have to realize these days, she vowed as she swam toward the reef, was that Sabrina Chase was making her own rules now. Men such as Matt August were going to learn they couldn’t use her for a doormat. Actually, when she thought about it, throwing him out of her room last night had been rather exhilarating. So what if she’d misjudged him initially? She’d gotten rid of him when she’d realized her mistake, hadn’t she? It would be a while before he tried to victimize another innocent tourist.

Resolutely Sabrina inhaled through the snorkel and dived deeply to examine the intricacies of the reef.

Crouched on the rocky outcropping overlooking the beach, August watched the woman in the sleek black maillot. He had spotted her renting the snorkeling equipment at a shop adjacent to his bookstore. It had been easy to follow the taxi she’d then taken to this cove.

The section of beach she had chosen was virtually empty. A small party of vacationers splashed about in the water several yards farther along, but no one appeared to be sharing the day with Sabrina.

Snorkeling alone was not the safest practice, but Matt had a hunch she probably wouldn’t welcome any advice this morning. Especially not from him.

As he watched, she surfaced to clear her tube and mask and then plunged under again. He could barely see the outline of her body as she held her breath and went to the bottom. The reef she was exploring was a massive thing stretching for some distance across the open end of the cove. It was a perfect location for fish watching.

Someday maybe he’d bring Brad here. The kid was thirteen this year. It had been a long time since he’d seen his son. Somehow time got away from a man down here in Mexico. Matt had the uneasy suspicion that priorities were slipping, shifting, and he wasn’t quite sure how to keep them in order.

Drinking his whiskey in an expensive hotel bar had been one way of pretending he wasn’t losing ground. Hotels were careful to maintain a pleasant illusion, he’d discovered. They knew how to avoid that seedy touch that could creep so easily into one’s surroundings down here. More and more Matt was aware of having to keep the seediness at bay.

He frowned as he watched Sabrina swim close to the edge of the reef and wondered if she knew how sharp sections of the underwater barrier were. A careless movement could leave a neat slash down the length of an arm or leg. Just like a knife wound.

Sabrina would probably also not be too interested in hearing that warning, either. Matt’s mouth turned downward sardonically. The image of the knife sizzling past him and burying itself in the corridor outside her room was one that would haunt him for a long time. He’d argued with women before, but he’d never come quite that close to losing so badly. All in all it was probably the most interesting thing that had happened to him in months.

No, not quite, he corrected himself. The most interesting event had taken place just before the knife-throwing scene when he’d been about to make love to Sabrina Chase. Perhaps he should rephrase that; when he had been about to have sex with Sabrina Chase.

That still wasn’t right, but somehow, even in his laconically honest mood this morning, Matt was having a tough time admitting that he had almost tried to rape a woman the previous evening. The part of him that had once respected the phrase an officer and a gentleman preferred not to have to cope with the reality of last night.

The realization that he’d been a prize ass had hit him during the last few moments of the struggle. He’d known then that he’d thrown away the chance at something good; something unique.

Another brilliant Matt August snafu. Situation normal, all fucked up.

The question that had been hammering at him relentlessly since he’d left the hotel flashed into his head once more. What would it have been like if he hadn’t screwed up last night?

Christ, what an idiot he’d been. If only she’d calmed down a bit there at the end. If she hadn’t gotten hold of the knife, and if her temper hadn’t exploded so suddenly, he could have put everything right. He was certain of it. The next time he held Sabrina Chase in his arms he wouldn’t let her go until he’d wiped away the memory of last night.

Idly he gnawed on his lower lip, watching her dart back to the surface for more air. The next time was going to take some arranging. Sabrina probably had plans never to speak to him again, much less get close enough for him to get his hands on her.

He watched her slip through the water and remembered with painful clarity how she had slipped into his hands and out of them again because of his own stupidity. Jesus, she’d felt good under him last night. Like a sensuous little cat, all soft and neatly made, from her delicate breasts to the luscious curve of her bottom. And those smoky green eyes. He’d remember the changing expressions in those incredible eyes for a long time.

He’d certainly made life more difficult for himself, Matt thought with an inner groan. Sabrina wasn’t going to have any problem finding another male on whom to practice her approach. Something told him he hadn’t deflected her from her ultimate goal. When she got over her shock and anger she would probably be hell bent to try her tactics again, if only to prove to herself that she could do it right. Matt understood that need to prove something to yourself.

Grimly he rose from squatting position and started down the cliff trail. The knife was safely tucked inside his boot again this morning and the lightweight stone-colored slacks he wore fell neatly over the top of the leather sheath. He’d picked up his laundry earlier from the little shop that catered to the few tourists like himself who cared about neatly pressed clothing in a humid climate. The fresh khaki shirt he had on was still crisp. Another hour or two in the eighty-four-degree temperatures of the early summer sun and there would be little left of the strict creases, however. Matt accepted the fact philosophically. He also knew that it was important for some reason to keep up the ritual of having his laundry professionally done. Such small acts formed links, however tenuous, with the future. They implied that there was, in fact, a future.

As he came down the side of the cliff and walked out onto the sparkling white, sand, Matt lost sight of Sabrina. It was possible to see to a considerable depth when one was standing high above the water, but down on the level the advantage was lost. He scanned the small cove and after a moment was rewarded by the sight of Sabrina surfacing once more to clear her tube and mask. Apparently she wasn’t a very experienced diver. Another reason why she shouldn’t have sought out a lonely place such as this to go fish watching.

Matt kept an eye on the orange tip of the snorkel as it glided along the surface. Keeping it firmly in sight, he went to stand in the shade of the cliff. Even a few degrees of coolness were welcome. How long would Sabrina stay in the water? And what the hell was he going to say when she emerged and saw him waiting for her?

His first thought was to give her a lecture on the dangers of diving alone, but belated common sense warned him it might not go over well. He watched the tip of the tube dip below the surface again. When she finished the dive, she’d probably have to surface completely to clear it. Maybe he could start off the conversation by offering to show her how to clear the tube while keeping her face underwater.

“Damn it, lady,” Matt groused, stepping out of the shade to walk toward the water. “Come on out. You’ve been in there long enough. I want to talk to you.” Down she went again, and he waited impatiently for the snorkel to reappear.

When it didn’t, Matt felt the first prickle of uneasiness. During the time he’d been watching her, he’d unconsciously been keeping track of the duration of her dives. They rarely lasted a full minute. He knew without having to glance down at his watch that she’d been under longer than a minute this trip. He’d done enough diving to know that an inexperienced swimmer could get into trouble quickly around a large reef. Eyes narrowed against the bright morning light, he moved right to the edge of the gently lapping waves. Still no sign of the orange-tipped snorkeling tube.

“Well, hell.” There wasn’t time to wait and see if perhaps she had simply worked her way around to the far side of the reef. Picturing the worst, Matt yanked off his boots and shirt and loped into the soft, foaming waves.

He headed toward the point where he had last seen the tube, hovering on the surface of the water and peering down into the crystal depths. Below him small fish darted about in nervous schools and the ancient encrustations on the reef promised tantalizing mysteries. Some of those mysteries, Matt knew, could be exceedingly dangerous. There was no sign of an overly adventurous lady diver, however, and he could see all the way to the sandy bottom.