Beyond the Edge by Susan Kearney Page A

dangerous. He can sell to the government, private industry or—yes. I think I’ve found him. He’s going to attempt to sell a stolen item at Kendals, an auction house.”
    Good. Perhaps now he’d turn off the computer and pay some much-desired attention to her plump lips that had never felt so engorged. Surely he hadn’t asked her to undress, sit on him and open her legs so he could ignore her.
    “Does Kendals ever sell technology?”
    At his question, she wanted to sob in frustration. “Don’t you want to touch me?”
    “I will do what I wish with you when I wish it. I thought I’d made that clear.”
    “But—”
    “You will not tell me what you want. I will give you what you need. Understood?”
    She couldn’t believe he would deny her. She tried to squeeze her legs together to attain a measure of relief. But his thighs stopped her, holding her legs open.
    “Do you understand?” he repeated.
    “Yes,” she hissed, understanding all too well.She’d thought she couldn’t possibly become more aroused. But as he refused to touch her, tiny jolts of electricity seemed to ratchet her to another level.
    “Does Kendals ever auction off technology?” he repeated his question.
    She could barely concentrate on his words. Kendals was an auction house that specialized in fine art. “They usually sell rare art, jewelry, antiques. Collectors’ items.”
    “Then this is it. We’ll leave for New York immediately.”
    Fallon’s head was spinning. She was on edge, her nerves raw and her mind clouded with need. She was barely able to recall that she had three important meetings scheduled for tomorrow, one with the Chinese ambassador. And she couldn’t miss giving the Chamber speech she’d promised for their annual woman’s luncheon.
    “I have a business to run. I can’t go gallivanting across the country.”
    Before he could answer, car headlights struck the blinds and washed the room with a glaring brilliance. In one graceful motion, Kane flipped off the computer, backed the chair from the desk and rolled them to the floor.
    “Stay down.”
    She landed on her bottom before he flattened her with his body. His chest pressed against hers and his hand covered her mouth. She struggled for a moment against his weight until she realized the futility of escape. No way could she dislodge him.
    Kane’s eyes glistened in the glaring light. “Don’t make a sound,” he whispered, waiting for her to nod her compliance before removing his hand from her mouth.
    Someone pounded on the front door, rang the bell, then resumed pounding. “Fallon. Yoo-hoo! Fallon, honey. I know you’re inside!”
    “It’s Sinclair. He’s family,” she whispered, ignoring Kane’s instructions to remain silent since Sinclair would never hear her above the knocking. She’d recognize her stepbrother’s whining voice anywhere, even without his periodic nocturnal visits. Sinclair’s last attempt to run one of the Hanover subsidiaries five years ago had been a disaster. Since then his occasional binge drinking had declined into a state of steady alcoholism. From the sound of him, he was on a good bender, although at the silly, not yet obnoxious stage.
    Fallon shoved against Kane’s shoulder. “Let me up.”
    Kane didn’t budge, but watched her with smoldering intensity. “Who’s Sinclair?” He caught her chin, and brushed his thumb lightly over her mouth in a slow, fiercely intimate gesture, causing a shiver of pleasure to race through her.
    She refused to think about how exciting she found Kane’s touch. She refused to think how much she wanted to rip off his clothes. Instead, she had to dress and deal with the problem. “Sinclair is my stepbrother. He believes in treating all women as sequels so his latest wife divorced him. He shows up here occasionally.”
    “In the middle of the night?”
    Kane rolled off her, muscles rippling across his shoulder blades. He held out his hand and helped her to her feet, the contact of his palm