Low Country Liar (16 page)

Settling into a comfortable, cross-legged position, with her elbows resting on her thighs and her hands on her ankles, Lisa felt decidedly better. There was something uplifting about sitting in a tree. If Darwin's theory was true, she thought somewhat wryly, she was probably reverting to old ancestral habits!

The sensation didn't last long as she heard the crunch of footsteps in the graveled driveway. She tensed, a sixth sense warning her of the intruder's identity before she saw Slade. The minute he came into her view, he stopped, glancing upward to the tree house where she sat.

Her heart somersaulted traitorously at the sight of him dressed casually in blue slacks and a print shirt that was opened at the throat. His hard features were expressionless as he gazed directly at her.

"Go away," she gulped tightly,

"I want to talk to you, Lisa," he said evenly.

"Well, I don't want to talk to you."

"Don't be childish," Slade scolded her for her pouting retort, "and come down from that tree."

"How did you know I was here?" She ignored his order.

"Mildred told me at the house that she'd seen you wandering around outside from the window. I've found Mitzi so many times in that tree house that I guess I automatically looked there first."

"Mitzi? Up here?" Lisa repeated, finding it difficult to imagine her fifty-year-old aunt climbing the tree.

"Yes," Slade said dryly, "your aunt is remarkable in more ways than one. If you don't come down, I'll come up. You'll find that platform is a little cramped with two people on it."

He would climb up, Lisa knew it, and she glared at him angrily. He took a step toward the trunk and the crude ladder.

"I'll be right down," she muttered, and slid along the platform to the boards leading down the tree.

A few feet from the ground, a pair of hands took hold of her waist, ignoring her gasp of protest, and lifted her the rest of the way down. Lisa twisted free of the hold the instant her feet touched the ground. Her pulse was still racing even after Slade had let her go.

"What do you want?"
she challenged coldly. But inside she was feverishly aware of him.

Slade stared at her for a long moment. "Mitzi told me you'd been crying."

His hand reached for her sunglasses and Lisa knocked it away, instinctively defending her identity. "She had no right to tell you that!" She couldn't deny the tears she had cried. Not even the tinted sunglasses could conceal all traces.

"Mitzi hasn't had many chances in her life to play mother hen. You can't blame her for springing to the defense of the little chick living in her house." He studied her thoughtfully. "Looking at you now, I can understand why she lectured me on my behavior. You look oddly vulnerable and in need of protection."

"You're wrong," Lisa denied. "You and Mitzi both are wrong. I can take care of myself."

"Can you?"
Slade eyed her skeptically, his manner faintly arrogant and mocking. "It's funny, but you don't look like a hard-bitten little niece out after her aunt's money. You look like a little girl who's been hurt—"

"Will you get out of here?" she demanded hoarsely. "I don't need pity, least of all yours?

"I'm not offering any."

Lisa turned away in agitation. "What are you doing here? Who invited you anyway?
"

"
I invited myself. I wanted to see you."

"Why?
"
she hurled bitterly. "Were you afraid after last night that I'd renege on our deal?"

"Frankly it didn't occur to me," Slade answered grimly. "Maybe it should have."

"Yes, maybe it should have."

His hands fastened on her upper arms, pulling her around to face him. Lisa hunched her shoulders away from him, recoiling from his touch that was both torture and bliss. She kept her face averted, unable to meet his compelling gaze.

"Let me go Slade!" The strangled words were ripped from her throat. "I'm not going to go back on our agreement."

His fingers curled deeper into the soft flesh of her arms, drawing her closer. Lisa raised her hands to wedge herself away from his chest, but one hand accidentally came in contact with naked skin where his unbuttoned shirtfront opened at the neck. His body warmth seared through her like a branding iron, and the dark hairs on his chest tickled her sensitive fingertips.

"Last night—"
Slade began tautly.

"I'm trying to forget about last night," Lisa interrupted in a throbbing voice. "I don't want to remember it even happened."

"I came over here this morning with the intention of apologizing and to suggest that we both forget about last night." There was a sensual note in his husky tone. "But I can't. It isn't possible."

His warm breath was fanning the top of her hair, letting Lisa know how close he was to her. Her gaze was riveted to the tanned column of his neck, and the pulse beating wildly there seemed to be in tempo with her own racing heart.

"I don't want to become involved with you." Her protest was almost issued in a moan of surrender. "It would complicate everything."

"Do you think I don't know that?" Slade argued grimly.

"Then leave me alone."

He offered the opposite. "Spend the day with me, Lisa. Mitzi's going to be working and she's already told me you aren't seeing your friends today."

"No." She shook her head. "I can't. I won't!"

"We won't talk about Mitzi or her money," Slade vowed. "We'll forget all about it. It'll just be you and me together."

The temptation to accept was almost irresistible. To have one day with Slade—to be just a man and a woman together—was a tantalizing thought.

"No!" The denial came in a tortured whisper, trembling with regret,

"You crazy, stubborn woman," he snapped in irritation. "You were human enough to cry last night. Can't you see that whether I like it or not, I'm falling in love with you?"

Lisa breathed in sharply, her head jerking up to stare dazedly into his face. His compelling features were set in grim, forbidding lines of determination. "You can't mean it," she breathed.

His mouth twisted wryly. "Do you think it was easy for me to admit or accept?

"I don't know." She wavered. "You can't love me," she protested uncertainly.

"That's what I've been saying ever since I left the house last night," Slade admitted, a rueful smile tugging cynically at the corners of his mouth. "But I know the worst about you, Lisa. Today I'd like to find out the best."

Yes, it was true for her, too. She knew the worst about Slade—that he was dishonest, an embezzler—but it didn't change the way she felt about him. The difference between Lisa and Slade was that she was afraid to pin the label of love on the emotion she felt. In her heart she was certain, but her mind refused to accept the verdict.

"It wouldn't change anything. It would only make it worse." She couldn't bring herself to accept his invitation.

"I don't know." He lifted an expressive brow in challenge. "I might find your company boring without any arguments to add spice."

Lisa held her breath for an instant, then released it in a long sigh. "No, I can't go."

"Why?"
Slade demanded a reason.

"It's—it's too risky," she offered lamely.

"Why? Because you might find out you're in love with me?" he guessed astutely. "Is there a chance of that?"

Moistening her lips nervously, Lisa finally admitted, "Yes."

The smoldering light that leaped into his dark eyes took her breath away. "If there's a chance of that," he said tightly, "we can find out right here and now."

Her lips parted to protest, but his mouth opened over hers to silence her voice, devouring her lips with a savage hunger that brought sweet pain. Lisa surrendered instantly to the fierce ecstasy of his kiss. Her arms slid around his neck inside his shirt collar, feeling the flexing of his muscles as he crushed her against his length.

The erotic stimulation in the molding caress of his hands drove out all questions about the wisdom of loving him. There was only here and now and the wonder of his arms around her. Her heart was singing a pagan song to accompany the primitive fires racing through her veins. The sensual probe of his lips as they explored hers had her quivering in eager response, needing to know him as intimately as he was discovering her.

His weight pressed her backward until the rough bark of the tree was rasping her shoulder blades and the bare skin exposed by the sleeveless tank top. A muscular leg was forced between hers as Slade pinned her arching body against the trunk. His hands slipped under the hem of her top, finding the heat of her bare skin and evoking a pleasure so piercing it was near torment.

Her breast seemed to swell in delight when his hand curved over the lacy cup of her bra. Lisa yearned to feel the nakedness of his hard flesh beneath her fingers. Lacking his expertise, her fingers fumbled with the few remaining buttons of his shirt, in her awkward attempt, she scraped her elbow against the rough bark and gasped at the sharp pain shooting up her arm.

Slade immediately straightened, pulling her with him away from the tree. "This is a hell of a place to make love to you," he laughed raggedly near her ear, nuzzling its lobe before dragging his mouth away.

Weakly Lisa rested her head against his chest, still quivering with a need that could only be satisfied in the consummation of their love. Unknowingly she whispered his name.

"Love me?
"
Slade roughly demanded an answer.

"Yes." And she closed her eyes at the frightening truth.

"And you'll spend the day with me?

Lisa trembled. "Yes."

His arms tightened around her. "Do you have any idea how much I want you?"

"I think so," she nodded against his chest, her fingers spreading across his hard flesh in an unconscious caress. She knew how much she wanted him.

"It's so soon, though," Slade declared in agitation, rubbing his chin over the top of her head. Lisa could hear the frown in his voice. "Is there ever a right time and a right place?"

"I doubt it."

He captured her chin and lifted her head so he could study her face, his eyes darkened in seriousness. "Lisa, I want to spend the afternoon getting to know you—I don't mean physically, there's time enough for that later. I want to know about your family and friends, what you like and what you don't like."

"Yes." She seemed destined to agree with anything he said, but it wouldn't last forever. Maybe that was why she was clinging so tenaciously to those few moments they would share.

He gave her a hard, swift kiss. "It's not going to be easy to keep my hands off of you when you're in such a delectable mood, but I'll try," he promised in lazy arrogance. "As long as you don't provoke me." Clasping her wrists, he held her away from him. "Run into the house and let Mildred know you're coming with me. I'll have you back in time for dinner tonight."

"Should I change? I mean—" Lisa glanced down at the rumpled tank top and snug-fitting Levis.

"You're fine as you are," he assured her.

"All right," she nodded tightly. "Just give me five minutes to comb my hair and put on some lipstick."

"No." His grip tightened when she would have pulled free of his light hold to go to the house. Lisa looked back into his disturbing intent gaze. "No comb and no lipstick. I want you looking just the way you are—as if you'd just been kissed very thoroughly by me."

"Slade, what will people think?" She was faintly embarrassed yet thrilled by the possessive ring in his voice.

"They'll think we're in love," he informed her with more than a trace of arrogant satisfaction, "and that I've made mad, passionate love to you. I haven't, but I will."

"Oh, really?" Lisa had to challenge him. She had been much too agreeable.

"Yes, really." For an instant, he drew her against his chest as if to establish his mastery over her. "And if you don't hurry into the house with that message, I'll change the order in which I want to get to know you better." Then he released her.

"Damn you, Slade!" she breathed, standing motionless, loving him and hating him with equal desperation. "The first thing you should learn about me is that I don't like being told what to do."

"Very well." Amusement deepened the corners of his mouth. "I won't tell you what to do any more. I'll show you."

Taking her by the shoulders, he turned her around and pointed her toward the house. With a shove and a playful slap on her rump, he sent her on her way.

Entering the house through the back door, Lisa went in search of Mitzi. In the foyer, she heard the clicking keys of the typewriter in the study. Hesitating, Lisa decided not to disturb her aunt and began looking for the housekeeper.

After going through all the rooms but the study on the ground floor, Lisa continued her search upstairs. She found Mildred in her bedroom, polishing the chest of drawers.

"Here you are, Mildred." She was slightly out of breath. "I've been looking for you."

"I always polish the furniture upstairs first," Mildred informed her. "I don't know why I bother. Nobody hardly ever comes up here. I'm just wasting my time." She pulled out a drawer and ran a cloth around the edges and sides. "But it has to be done. So I do it first. That way I leave the downstairs till last and I have to do that. I can't put it off because somebody is always running in and out."