Relentless Adversary by Jayne Castle Page A

Kelly carried out the directions. Nor did he pay any attention to the speculative, assessing glances she tossed at him from time to time.
    But he hadn't argued after dinner when she'd quietly asked to be taken home. He'd looked up suddenly from the last of his zinfandel wine, and she'd been certain he was going to protest. But he refrained, although there was no doubting the taut quality of his aggressive jawline.
    Deliberately he'd set down the glass and smiled across the round hardwood table. "It's a temptation to tell you you're not going to spend the night anywhere else except in my bed, but," he'd added quickly, catching the bluing silver of her eyes, "I think maybe I've pushed you enough this evening. You look exhausted, my love, and I don't want you appearing worn and wan at work tomorrow. People might find it hard to believe the happy bride bit!"
    "I can understand that. I don't believe it myself!"
    "Good. You're reviving," he chuckled approvingly. "Finally get it all sorted out in that sharp little mind?"
    "There are a few loose ends," she acknowledged tightly.
    But those were cleared up when he walked her to the apartment door sometime later. He pulled her into his arms with surprising gentleness, his mouth warm and persuasive on hers.
    "It's all right, sweetheart," he murmured after a moment, his lips moving in her hair near her ear. "You can tell me. I'll take care of everything."
    Kelly stiffened, warning bells chiming loudly in her bemused brain.
    "Tell you what?" Her hands were wedged against his chest in silent protest, although he must have sensed the way her lips had responded to his.
    "Why you did it, of course," he said with a lightness that didn't deceive her. This was no joke. Locke wanted an answer.
    "Locke, what are you talking about?" But she knew. Finally it was all becoming clear.
    "Fiddle with the financial data in the Forrester computer," he said mildly, as if he were asking for nothing more than the solution to a puzzle that had thus far defeated him.
    "I thought," Kelly said very carefully, tilting her head back to meet the jade eyes, "that with your virtuoso abilities on the computer you could figure that out for yourself!"
    "It would take time," he admitted ruefully. "And the answers might not be conclusive. I'd much rather you told me yourself."
    Kelly sucked in her breath, eyes flashing up at him. "I think not. You've had more than your share of wins tonight. I wouldn't want to make it all too easy for you. You might lose interest!"
    She whirled out of his arms, twisted her key in the lock, and stepped into the safety of her own apartment. Turning, she slammed the door very calmly and deliberately in his face.
    And then she slid the deadbolt into place as an added precaution.
    Damn the man! So that's what it had all been about! Kelly swept through the sophisticated brass-, glass-, and leather-furnished living room, strange, frustrated rage growing in her.
    She would never have dreamed a man would go so far to solve a puzzle! But what did it all mean? How much did Locke know, and more importantly, how much did Helen know?
    Kelly shook her head in gathering dismay as she considered the consequences. With a violent tug she pulled off the blue velour top and stalked into the bedroom with its brass bed to finish undressing.
    Desperately she tried to think logically. Pulling on a Chinese-red robe, she turned out the light and walked over to the window, gazing out at the twinkling lights on the lake's shore.
    There was only one logical sequence of events that explained the whole mess. Locke must have discovered the manipulation of the data base early in his investigation of the inventory problem. He'd gone straight to Helen with his suspicions. Helen, after being told that one of her most trusted managers was the suspect, had quietly told Locke to find out why the data had been "corrected."
    And Locke, with a directness Kelly decided was probably typical of him, simply sought the easiest path to the