Whistleblower by Tess Gerritsen

crazy situation."
    He looked at her long and hard. At last he nodded. "The voice of a rational woman," he sighed. "Exactly what I need right now. To keep me from jumping at my own shadow."
    "And remind you to eat." She held out another slice of pizza. "You ordered this giant thing. You'd better help me finish it."
    The tension between them instantly evaporated. He settled onto the bed and accepted the preferred slice. "That maternal look becomes you," he noted wryly. "So does the pizza sauce."
    "What?" She swiped at her chin.
    "You look like a two-year-old who's decided to finger-paint her face."
    "Good grief, can you hand me the napkins?"
    "Let me do it." Leaning forward, he gently dabbed away the sauce. As he did, she studied his face, saw the laugh lines creasing the corners of his eyes, the strands of silver intertwined with the brown hair. She remembered the photo of that very face, pasted on a Viratek badge. How somber he'd looked, the unsmiling portrait of a scientist. Now he appeared young and alive and almost happy.
    Suddenly aware that she was watching him, he looked up and met her gaze. Slowly his smile faded. They both went very still, as though seeing, in each other's eyes, something they had not noticed before. The voices on the television seemed to fade into a far-off dimension. She felt his fingers trace lightly down her cheek. It was only a touch, but it left her shivering.
    She asked, softly, "What happens now, Victor? Where do we go from here?"
    "We have several choices."
    "Such as?"
    "I have friends in Palo Alto. We could turn to them."
    "Or?"
    "Or we could stay right where we are. For a while."
    Right where we are. In this room, on this bed. She wouldn't mind that. Not at all.
    She felt herself leaning toward him, drawn by a force against which she could offer no resistance. Both his hands came up to cradle her face, such large hands, but so infinitely gentle. She closed her eyes, knowing that this kiss, too, would be a gentle one.
    And it was. This wasn't a kiss driven by fear or desperation. This was a quiet melting together of warmth, of souls. She swayed against him, felt his arms circle behind her to pull her inescapably close. It was a dangerous moment. She could feel herself tottering on the edge of total surrender to this man she scarcely knew. Already, her arms had found their way around his neck and her hands were roaming through the silver-streaked thickness of his hair.
    His kisses dropped to her neck, exploring all the tender rises and hollows of her throat. All the needs that had lain dormant these past few years, all the hungers and desires, seemed to stir inside her, awakening at his touch.
    And then, in an instant, the magic slipped away. At first she didn't understand why he suddenly pulled back. He sat bolt upright. The expression on his face was one of frozen astonishment. Bewildered, she followed his gaze and saw that he was focused on the television set behind her. She turned to see what had captured his attention.
    A disturbingly familiar face stared back from the screen.
    She recognized the Viratek logo at the top, the straight-ahead gaze of the man in the photo. Why on earth would they be broadcasting Victor Holland's ED badge?
    "...Sought on charges of industrial espionage. Evidence now links Dr. Holland to the death of a fellow Viratek researcher, Dr. Gerald Martinique. Investigators fear the suspect has already sold extensive research data to a European competitor...."
    Neither one of them seemed able to move from the bed. They could only stare in disbelief at the newscaster with the Ken doll haircut. The station switched to a commercial break, raisins dancing crazily on a field, proclaiming the wonders of California sunshine. The lilting music was unbearable.
    Victor rose to his feet and flicked off the television.
    Slowly he turned to look at her. The silence between them grew agonizing.
    "It's not true," he said quietly. "None of it."
    She tried to read those unfathomable