Low Country Liar (8 page)

"So I see," Slade nodded, his gaze darting indifferently to the paper clutched in her hand.

A nervous hesitation quivered through her in the ensuing silence. There was something ominous in the crackling tension that made her doubly uneasy.

"Now that I've found it, I'd better take it in to Mitzi." Lisa realized she was rattling on like a clucking chicken, but she couldn't help herself.

Slade stood in front of the door, barring her way, but Lisa took a step forward anyway, expecting him to open the door for her. He didn't move.

"You aren't leaving yet," he told her in no uncertain terms.

Lisa stopped short. "What do you mean?" she breathed, caught between anger and dread.

"You are not leaving until you explain to me what's going on," he stated.

And Lisa felt a cold chill dancing down her spine. She had thought she had fooled him, that he hadn't recognized that she and Ann Eldridge were one and the same person, but obviously she had been kidding herself. She had underestimated him. How foolish! And how dangerous.

Chapter Four

PALING LISA FELT the confidence draining from her as rapidly as the color receded from her face. Slade Blackwell had seen through her ruse. If only she had seen the file, obtained some proof to back up her suspicions. As it was, she had nothing with which to confront him. And how could she explain the deception?

"What's going on?" she repeated with false blankness.

"That's right." The line of his mouth was thin, harsh and forbidding.

"I don't think I know what you mean," Lisa stalled.

"Don't you?" Slade taunted with arrogant challenge.

A step in front of the door, he had not moved since entering the study. Yet he seemed to fill the room, intimidating Lisa until her legs felt like two quivering sticks of jelly. She wanted to sink into the nearest chair and confess her misdeed. But that would be too much like admitting guilt when he was the unscrupulous one who should feel guilty.

"Your question is confusing." Why was her lying tongue failing her now? "What's going on where?"

At his step forward, Lisa wanted to retreat. She had the eerie sensation of being stalked, but the large desk was directly behind her. There wasn't anywhere to run even if she could make her legs move.

"Your pretended innocence isn't fooling me, Lisa." His voice was smooth and controlled. She wished for a measure of his calmness. "I dislike people who sneak around."

Lowering her chin, she stared at her hands and the fluttering paper in the trembling fingers. "Sneak around?" She swallowed to rid her voice of its betraying tremor. "How could I be accused of sneaking around? Mitzi sent me in here."

"You know damned well that's not what I mean." Despite the imprecation, his tone of voice didn't change.

"Then you'll have to be more explicit with your questions." Lifting her head to challenge him boldly, Lisa clung to her false ignorance, hoping her racing brain would come up with a plausible reason for her deception—a reason other than the truth. "I'm at a complete loss to understand your meaning."

His gaze narrowed, impaling Lisa on its thrusting point. "I'll make myself clearer. Mitzi may believe that nonsense about personalities clashing and chemistries being wrong, but I don't buy it."

Lisa breathed in sharply. He didn't know! He didn't know she was Ann Eldridge! The knowledge sang through her veins, warming her with victory. She wanted to laugh wildly with delight.

"You don't?"
she drawled. A suggestion of dimples dented her cheeks as she tried to conceal the bubbling smile tickling her mouth.

"No, I don't," Slade answered flatly. "I believe in neither love at first sight nor hatred at first sight. And your dislike of me borders on hatred, even though you've just met me."

"Hatred is a harsh word." Lisa was brimming with confidence now.

"It's a harsh emotion," he retorted. "You've been sniping at me all
evening, and I want to know why."

Lisa's battle plan called for a frontal attack. She took a deep breath and plunged forward. "It's very simple. Unlike my aunt, I don't trust you."

His jaw hardened. "You made that obvious to Mitzi."

"Did I? Good." A smile accompanied the honey-coated comment.

"What's your game?" His dark head was tipped to the side, the angular planes of his face severely controlled to remain expressionless and cold.

"My game?" A delicate winged brow arched above the frame of her sunglasses. The question momentarily threw her off balance. "You ask me that?"

"Don't look so indignant, Lisa." One corner of his mouth curled upward in a jeer. "It isn't convincing."

Her temper flared. "And your apparent interest and concern for Mitzi is downright sickening," she seethed. "She must have seemed easy prey for you—divorced, alone, seemingly without any close relatives. And let's not leave out wealthy! You could even claim old family ties."

"The key word here is wealthy, isn't it?" he mused.

Her anger didn't seem to worry him. Slade was closer now, looming in front of her. His height seemed to dwarf her, forcing her to tilt her head back to meet the black glitter of his gaze. Warily she was conscious of his muscular physique and the blatant virility that was such an overwhelming part of him.

"Yes," she agreed, "the key word here is wealthy. You've gone to great lengths to make yourself indispensable to Mitzi. You must be laughing up your sleeve at how gullible she is!"

"Are you?"

Slade Blackwell was clever. Lisa knew it would take a great deal to provoke him into admitting anything. But she could be cunning, too. Hadn't she already fooled him once?

"I don't find it at all funny!" she retorted. "She trusts you, and you're stealing her blind. It must be a rude awakening for you to discover that she isn't quite as alone in the world as you thought. Regardless of the fact that she and my uncle were divorced, my parents and I still think of her as part of our family. And we're certainly not going to let some cheap, money-grubbing lawyer take advantage of her!"

"Oh?" Slade seemed coldly amused by her threat. "What are you going to do about it?"

"I'm going to make her see what a conniving thief you are," she declared angrily.

"Then what?" He eyed her steadily, obviously confident that she wouldn't succeed, but he didn't know about Ann Eldridge.

"What do you mean?" Lisa frowned, not seeing the relevance of his question.

"What are you going to get out of it?" elucidated calmly.

"The satisfaction of Mitzi seeing you for what you really are," she retorted.

"That's all?" Slade smiled with arrogant skepticism.

"What do you mean?" She was beginning to feel like a broken record, but she was puzzled by his attitude.

"You seem intent on getting me out of Mitzi's life and her affairs," he replied. "Would that be because once I'm gone, you can step in?"

Lisa tensed, reading the implication he had intended her to find. "What are you getting at?" she demanded.

"That you aren't any blood relation to her. She has none left." His sharp
gaze never left her face. "Admittedly you're her favorite niece, but the relationship is based on a marriage that has since been terminated."

"That's only a technicality." She defended her status in the household.

"My profession deals in technicalities," Slade reminded her with a trace of sardonicism. "Another interesting fact is that Mitzi has lived in Charleston for several years now, yet this is the first visit you've made."

"It's the first chance I've had to come," Lisa argued.

"Or the first time you thought there was reason?" he countered.

"Reason?" She drew herself up to her full height that still left her several inches shorter than Slade. "What are you saying?"

"That your motive for being here isn't as pure and lily white as you pretend." His gaze raked her with sweeping disdain.

"My motive?" Lisa repeated incredulously.

"It seems to me that you scheduled this visit after you became aware of how often my name was mentioned in your aunt's letters. Until then, I think you were too certain of Mitzi's affection, for you to bother about visiting an elderly relative when you could be having fun with friends your own age. Money brought you here, Lisa Talmadge, Mitzi's money,"
he concluded.

"Are you accusing me of—" Lisa began in outraged anger.

"I'm saying that you dislike me because Mitzi had turned to me for advice in money matters and you see that as a threat, not to Mitzi but to yourself." Slade studied her with contempt.

"That's absurd!" Lisa bristled. "I don't care what Mitzi does with her money or who she gives it to! I certainly don't expect to receive a dime of it!"

"How very nobly spoken," he taunted. "Mitzi is fond enough of you to believe that. Personally I find it pathetically phony—as false as your concern for Mitzi's welfare."

Incensed, Lisa reacted blindly, words failing her. Her palm swung in a lightning arc, striking a leanly hollowed cheek with a resounding slap. His face was as hard and unyielding as it looked, and her hand tingled painfully from the impact.

But she didn't have time to dwell on it. She was too aware of the primitive anger darkening his features. She doubted if anyone had slapped his face in a long while, especially a woman.

A deadly silence filled the room. Lisa could hear the wild racing of her pulse pounding in her ears. Her hand had left a pale imprint on his tanned cheek, and the proud flare of his nostrils said it was a mark that would not go unpunished.

"I have never hit a woman in my life." His voice was a low, savagely growling sound, drawn through teeth clenched in anger. "But you're sorely tempting me to change that."

"Don't let the fact that I'm a woman stop you," Lisa bluffed recklessly.

An ominous fire blazed in his eyes. He seemed to move closer to her and she took a hasty step backward, bumping sharply into the desk. Thrown off balance, she wavered unsteadily for a second. Before she could regain her equilibrium on her own, steel fingers had clamped around her elbow to steady her.

"Take your hand off me!" Ice dripped from her voice.

Only after she had spoken did Lisa realize that his supporting hand had been an instinctive reaction on his part. Slade would have released her instantly if she hadn't demanded it. She tried to twist free.

"Let go of me!" This time there was a trace of desperate anger in her demand.

She struck at him again with her free hand, but this he was prepared, capturing her wrist and yanking her roughly against his granite length. Strong fingers wound around a handful of silver blond hair, tugging at her tender scalp.

Lisa breathed in sharply with pain. It was the last movement she was permitted as his mouth crushed her lips. Her arms were trapped uselessly between their bodies, unable to wedge even the slightest space, his strength easily overpowering hers. Lisa reeled under the bruising pressure of his mouth.

The touch, smell and taste of him was a physical assault on her senses. Her mind could register nothing but his complete domination, making a response as impossible as resistance. She was certain the fierce mastery could continue forever, that she would be locked eternally in the steel embrace of his arms. The very instant the thought crossed her mind that she would be endlessly condemned to this punishment, the brutal force smothering her mouth was retracted.

Numbed and without strength, she couldn't move. The hand pulling at her hair no longer forced her head back, but she couldn't raise it upright. As the constricting band around her relaxed its hold, her hands clutched at the sleeves of his suit jacket for support, feeling the fluid steel of his muscles rippling beneath the material.

With an effort, Lisa opened her eyes to gaze at him through the smoke blue lenses of her sunglasses. Dark, ruthless male features filled her vision. There was only one weapon left that she possessed in any appreciable amounts, and she resorted to it, however ineffectual it might turn out to be.

"Is your male ego satisfied?" Her voice was unbelievably husky, trembling as violently as she was inside. "Or did you intend to rape me?"

The hand that had been at the back of her hair slid to the side of her neck. The body heat it emanated burned her sensitive flesh as his thumb roughly trailed from the point of her chin to the hollow of her throat. It pressed lightly on her windpipe as if Slade was considering strangling her.

"If that's what I intended, you wouldn't still be standing up,"
he said grimly.

There was a smudge of dusty-pink lipstick at the corner of his mouth, the only evidence she could see in the hard, male features that Slade had been the one to administer the punishing kiss. Lisa felt branded by it.

Her lips throbbed, her smooth skin rasped by the faint stubble of his beard, barely noticeable by sight, but definitely by touch. Her heart was pulsing chaotically, her cheeks flushed.

"Will you please let me go?" she requested tightly.

"Not until we come to an understanding," Slade answered unequivocally.