Stormy Challenge (8 page)

Leya was startled. "No thanks," she managed. "It's a full day's trip by car and I don't think I want to be cooped up with you for that long."

"Leya!"

"Yes, Court?" she said with vast, insincere politeness.

"I said I'll drive you if you're determined to go back to Santa Rosa today!"

She sensed his uncertainty and impatience and wondered at it. A part of her longed to believe it stemmed from the fact that he was finding his victory hollow. But she knew better than that. The only reason Court was making an effort to maintain some relationship with her was because he was nervous about the power she still held over him. True, Keith practically idolized the older man now, but if his determined sister went to work on him, who was to say she might not be able to convince her brother they'd made a mistake? She still held a fifty-percent ownership in Brandon Security.

But the thought of spending several more hours with Court was suddenly too tempting. Leya was honest enough to admit to herself that she was looking for excuses to put off a final break in their relationship. She didn't want to say good-bye. Regardless of his reasoning, Court was offering her an excuse to stay close to him for a few more hours. And Ley a, fearing she was a fooi, found herself grasping at the straw. "All right, Court."

* * *

He knows he hasn't handled this well, she found herself thinking in surprise. He's realized he needs more than my signature. He needs my cooperation. She realized a little grimly that he was going to try and ensure that cooperation by trading on the attraction between them. What frightened her was the possibility he might succeed in doing exactly that! She remembered their lovemaking the previous evening and on the beach that morning and shivered. She had never known such depths of passion with any other man. It was unique. Court Tremayne was unique. And telling herself she was a unique idiot didn't seem to do much good.

There were no outright confrontations. Court was obviously going out of his way to try and mend the fences he'd ripped apart. Leya caught his deceptively casual glances from time to time as he drove with an assurance that seemed second nature.

Leya was careful to steer the conversation in relatively harmless directions, but Court was equally bent on making his case. The subtle battle raged back and forth.

"Honey," he began determinedly at one point, "when you've had a chance to think about it, you're going to remember how much we were enjoying each other during the two days we just spent together. We learned a lot during that time and ..."

"Just look at those fantastic redwoods!" Leya interrupted in an awestruck tone. "Do you realize how old these trees are? The whole forest seems so ... so primeval, doesn't it? A piece of the earth lost in time." As the magnificent coastal redwoods drifted past the car window, Leya focused her attention entirely upon them.

"I've lined up an apartment in Santa Rosa," Court tried again later. "I want you to see it. . ."

"Oh, darn," Leya muttered, her fingers going to one ear. "I've lost an earring. It must have fallen on the beach this morning and I just now noticed it."

She heard Court stifle a groan of dissatisfaction at her refusal to get involved in an intimate discussion. "Was it expensive?" he muttered.

"Well, yes, considering the time I put into it," Leya grumbled. That was no less than the truth, she thought. She really ought to go ahead and get her ears pierced, That succeeded in surprising him. "Time?" he asked with sudden interest, casting her an appraising glance. "Do you make jewelry?"

She nodded.

"Including that green thing you were wearing last night? I liked that. It was very unusual." He sounded genuinely admiring.

"I make all my own jewelry." She shrugged, a little sorry she had brought up the topic by noticing her missing earring.

"No kidding? You have a little workshop?"

"Well, yes," she returned distantly.

"Do you sell your stuff?"

"Oh, no. I only make things for myself or for friends. Just a hobby."

"I'm surprised you don't have your ears pierced," he remarked knowledgeably. "I've heard women say it's a safer way to wear good earrings."

"I'm a born coward," Leva confessed, smiling slightly in spite of herself.

"Is that the reason you haven't done it?" He grinned. "You amaze me. I wouldn't have thought you would be afraid of a little thing like that!" He seemed, she thought in annoyance, delighted at the news of this fault in her character!

"I don't see many men rushing out to do themselves a physical injury for the sake of fashion!"

He laughed. "I'm sure everyone, male and female, makes some sort of painful effort in the never-ending chore of trying to attract the opposite sex! I've got friends who jog for miles and then lift weights. Painful in the extreme, I should think!"

"And what sort of painful effort do you put forth, Court?" Leya demanded, eager to put him at least vaguely on the defensive.

"My effort is that of acting with a semblance of civilized behavior when what I really want to do is reach out and drag you straight into bed," he retorted immediately, eyes darkening with a sudden intensity that was unnerving.

Leya felt the blood rush into her face. She had walked right into that one.

They stopped for dinner early in the evening, and it was dark before Court, following Leya's terse directions, finally drew his very sleek foreign car to a halt in the quiet neighborhood.

For a moment, he sat in silence surveying the old two-story structure with its encircling porch, graceful windows, and gingerbread trim. The new wooden siding was painted a rich butterscotch and the trim was in white. Her home dated from a wanner, more inviting era of house design, and Leya had taken loving care of it in the two years she had owned it.

"You live here?" Court's voice held something besides admiration, and Leya's head swung around sharply. What could he possibly find to criticize about her beautiful home?

"Yes," she told him tartly.

"Alone? In a big place like this?" His considering, dangerous glance told its own tale.

"It's a bit late to be worrying about who I might be living with, isn't it?" she taunted.

"It's a bit late for you to be telling me about it," he corrected in a hard, raw voice that alarmed her. "It's better late than never, I suppose. Let's get it over." He shoved open the car door with a savage push.

Leya saw the thin, brutal line of his mouth, the uncompromising set of his shoulders, and realized she was looking at a man who had psyched himself into a battle-ready frame of mind in about five seconds flat.

"Court!" she yelped belatedly, realizing what she'd done. Hastily, she scrambled out of her side of the car and raced forward to catch his arm.

"Court, there's no one in there," she said breathlessly, tugging at his sleeve, "Stop acting the demented lover! The neighbors might see you!"

"If he's not there, where is he?" Court ripped out, shooting her a look of smoldering rage. "When does he get home at night? Or have you two got some sort of
modern
relationship? One that lets you go off on vacation while he does the town? I warn you, it's not going to be like that between us!"

Leya swallowed, realizing with inner disgust that it was going to be harder calming Court back into a rational state than it had been getting him out of it in the first place.

Was he really this upset at the thought of her living with a man? Was his interest in her more than merely business? She didn't have time to dwell on the possibility now,

"Don't be ridiculous," she ordered disdainfully. "I'm not sharing that house with anyone. It's all mine! But it certainly wouldn't be your concern if I did have a male roommate," she went on spiritedly, her eyes glittering. "What in the world did you think you were going to accomplish by barging into my home like that, even if there had been someone there?"

"That's obvious! I'd have thrown him out!" The adrenaline in him was fading, but the expression in the molten eyes remained hard.

"You'd have had absolutely no right! I've given you no excuse to think ..."

"Are we going to stand on your front porch and discuss what has turned out to be a purely hypothetical point?" he asked with sudden rough humor, his hand grasping the long dark braid on her shoulder and tugging affectionately.

"Yes, we most certainly are! We're going to get something very clear between us, Court Tremayne! I

will not have you embarrassing me in front of friends and neighbors ..."

"Never," he promised solemnly. "Wouldn't think of it!" The outrageously pious expression on his face made her want to hit him.

"Nor will I have you making scenes with any of my
male
friends," she emphasized.

"How many of them are there?" he demanded interestedly.

"Will you be serious?"

"Anything you say. I am hereby seriously asking you out to dinner tomorrow night,"

he said at once. "Seven o'clock okay?"

"I haven't even said I'll go out with you!" she blazed, thoroughly irritated now.

"You didn't give me all this trouble during our two days at the beach," he complained on a note of smothered laughter. "Can't you close your eyes and imagine yourself back there, B.C.?"

"B.C.?" she questioned warily.

"Before Contract."

"You're an idiot," she sighed.

"But a lovable one," he argued, bending his head to drop a feathery kiss on her nose.

"Besides, it takes one to know one. Come on and I'll get your bags out of the car."

Twenty minutes later, Leya watched from her screen door as the sleek black car pulled away from the curb and thought herself extremely lucky to have rid herself of Courtland Gannon Tremayne so easily. It could have gotten nasty, she reflected uncomfortably as she turned away and locked the door behind her. Fortunately, he had convinced himself that she would be dutifully waiting at seven o'clock tomorrow night to go out to dinner with him and that seemed to satisfy him. His good-bye kiss had been short and fierce.

And what would happen, she wondered with grim interest, when he arrived and found her gone? Because she certainly didn't intend to go out with him the following evening. She needed time to think.

Automatically, she dialed her brother's number to let him know she was back in town.

"I thought you were going to stay for a few more days," Keith responded a moment later, sounding vastly surprised. "What happened? Weather turn too bad? A volcano erupt?"

That last guess wasn't far from the truth, Leya reflected wryly. It occurred to her she wasn't sure yet how much she wanted to tell Keith. Her pride was at stake here. Did she really want to admit to him what a fool she had been? And then there was the fact that Keith sounded so happy to know she'd signed the contract. Did she really want to ruin his working relationship with Court before the partnership had had a fair chance? What if Court turned out to be the salvation of Brandon Security after all?

"After I'd made up my mind about the contract, I saw no reason to hang around,"

she told him evasively, not wanting to acknowledge the fact that she was making excuses to herself. Why was it so difficult to take a hard stand against Court Tremayne? Why was she trying to find a reason to give him a chance?

"Court was a little upset when you failed to show up for the meeting he'd planned,"

Keith went on with a chuckle. "I was a bit worried that he might rile you when he finally found you but I gather everything went okay. He's a great guy when you get to know him," he assured her enthusiastically. "I'm going to learn a lot from him."

Leya couldn't think of an intelligent response to that comment, so she mumbled something noncommittal and largely inaudible.

"Say, as long as you're back early," her brother continued, "you might want to drop by Sue's tomorrow evening. She's giving a cocktail party and said to be sure and extend the invitation to you if you got back into town in time." Susan Adams was a mutual friend of long standing.

Leya didn't hesitate. It was the perfect answer. Now she had an excuse not to be at home for Court tomorrow night! "I'd love to. Thanks for telling me. What time?"

"Six-thirty or so. It's a buffet, so we won't starve," he told her cheerfully. "I'll see you there. And Leya?"

"Yes, Keith?"

"Thanks for signing that contract." The phone clattered into the cradle.

For a long time, Leya sat silently beside the phone, gazing with unseeing eyes out over the cheery clutter of her living room. The inside of her home, as friendly as the outside, reflected its owner's lack of concern for unnecessary order. Leya's financial accounts for her bookshop were accurate to the penny, but the interior of her home was warm and delightfully chaotic. The difference represented an essential aspect of her character, and she was far too intelligent not to be aware of it. She had long since accepted her leisurely approach to life, seeing no point in overexerting herself in nonessential areas. The house was clean, but on its best days it remained—at least to an impartial observer— mildly disorganized. That didn't bother Leya in the slightest.

She knew herself to be smart enough to set her own priorities in life, and perfect housekeeping simply wasn't one of them.

But where, she asked herself thoughtfully as she viewed her highly eclectic decor, did Courtland Gannon Tremayne fit into her list of priorities? She shook her head, her eyes roving idly over the excellent nineteenth-century end tables and the twentieth-century batik wall hangings. Why was she tacitly admitting to herself that, even though she had every reason to mistrust him, her instinctive reaction to Court was to believe he would honorably uphold his end of the contract? Her teeth clenched for an instant. When she thought of how close she had come to letting him seduce her!

There was no doubt about it, she acknowledged sadly, her pride had been the chief casualty in their small war. It had been a long time since a man had so completely played her for a fool. She closed her lashes against the memory of Court's kisses and her own mindless response.