Stormy Challenge

by Jayne Ann Krentz

  Leya swallowed, realizing with inner disgust that it was going to be harder calming Court back into a rational state that 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 spirited, 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 the 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 décor, 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.

  But it wasn’t only the passion she remembered, it was the humor they had shared and the conversation and the walks on the beach. It all added up to a very dangerous package, and if she had half the brains she credited herself with, she would tell Keith everything and demand they unite to fire the man!

  Well, she decided as she slowly got to her feet and made her way into the cozy bedroom with its huge brass bed, she would have a small breather in which to think about what she wanted to do.

  Leya was still running through her reactions to Court the next afternoon as she turned off the shower and reached for one of the huge, brilliant red towels that decorated the cheerful red-and-white bathroom. Most of the day, she had been unable to think of much else besides the man, and the fact annoyed her. Perhaps the party this evening would take her mind off the puzzle he presented.

  The towel wrapped around her torso and tucked in just above her breast, she pulled a brush through the unbound deep-brown hair until it fell in a rich mass down her back. She would rebraid it when she had dressed. Maybe she would twine through her hair the beaded metal ribbon she had completed last week,
she thought, opening the door of the warm, steamy bath and stepping into her bedroom.

  A scream rose in her throat even as she recognized the large male figure standing by the window. She barely stifled it, her hand going to her mouth in classic shock. Immediate fear was replaced at once by unadulterated outrage.

  “Court! What the hell do you think you’re doing in my bedroom! How dare you?” She clutched automatically at the fastening of the towel but her mind was churning with too much anger to be overly cautious at that point.

  He turned, gold-misted eyes sweeping the length of her figure encased only in the towel and coming to rest on the flaming silver-green gaze. Something stirred in his expression. Something primitive and masculine and dangerous. But he smiled. And that smile made Leya more wary than anything else he might have done.

  “I came to take you to the party,” he said simply, not moving.

  “The party,” she repeated stupidly. “But…”

  “I know we had a date for dinner, but I’m agreeable to a change of plans. Fortunately, your brother filled me in on the change, though. Otherwise there might have been a most unfortunate misunderstanding between us.” Still he didn’t move, watching her with his hands clasped casually behind his back. Leya had the impression he did that to keep from reaching for her throat.

  “I never said I would go out with you this evening,” she started aggressively. Going on the offense was the only thing she could think to do under the circumstances. Perhaps she could bluff him.

  “You allowed me to believe you were accepting my invitation and you know it,” he returned coolly.

  “You assume far too much!”

  “Because I want you so much,” he countered. “Although at the moment I might find it more satisfying to beat you than make love to you!”

  “How did you get in here?” she shot back suspiciously, her mouth hardening with hostility. “The front door was locked. I know it was locked!”

  “Ah, but not with a Brandon Security Systems lock,” he murmured. “You really should use the family brand, Leya. It’s very good, and living alone in a big house like this you should take every precaution!”

  “This is the first time in two years I’ve had any reason to worry!”

  “Are you worried, little Leya? If so, then I commend your intelligence.”

  “Are you resorting to threats, Court?” she demanded boldly.

  “I told you once I prefer the easiest, least taxing methods.”

  “Get out of here!” she hissed violently.

  He moved abruptly, starting toward her with long, lean strides that ate up the distance between them before she could get back into the bathroom and lock the door. Her hand was on the knob behind her when his fingers closed on her bare shoulder.

  He jerked her toward him, bringing her close against his long-sleeved yellow shirt and dark brown slacks. He wasn’t wearing a necktie, and the open collar revealed the tanned line of his throat and the beginnings of crisp, curling chest hair.

  “Stop it!” Leya clutched frantically at the towel’s insecure fastening, which was threatening to come undone under the violent treatment it was receiving.

  He grasped both of her wrists and pulled them around behind his back, forcing her head to tip up and her eyes to meet his.

  “The only way you’re going to keep that towel in place,” he pointed out with drawling amusement, “is to stand very close to me. The fact that it’s still between us is your best hope right now.”

  “Take your hands off me,” she snarled, knowing herself physically helpless and hating the sensation. “You’re behaving like a…a…” Words failed her.

  “Like something besides a gentleman?” he suggested almost mildly, eyes gleaming as he forced her close. “But you have only yourself to blame for that, don’t you? A lady who makes plans to break a date shouldn’t expect too chivalrous a response from the man involved!”

  “I’ve told you, I never agreed to go out with you tonight! You ordered me to do so, but for your information, that is not considered the same as an invitation!”

  “Details,” he growled softly, lowering his head to touch her forehead and then her cheekbones with his lips. “But I’m willing to let bygones be bygones. Unlike some people I know! Show me you’re sorry and I’ll show you how lenient I can be. Come on, Leya, a pretty little apology,” he coaxed with mocking charm as he feathered her face with more and more warm, tiny kisses. Kisses that beguiled and cajoled just as they had that night she had almost wound up in his bed, Leya reminded herself fiercely, as she tried to retain her basic good sense.

  “Court, you’ve had your big scene,” she muttered, aware of the heat in her body and terribly afraid he must know of it also. She had so little on that she was literally unable to clothe her reactions. “Please get out of here and let me get dressed!”

  “But I like you wearing only a towel,” he whispered deeply, his teeth nibbling at her ear and the sensitive area behind it. “You seem much less formidable this way, do you know that? And the softness of your hair is an invitation to any man, especially one who happens to be in your bedroom.”

  “Please!” she almost begged, acutely aware of her body’s rising tide of response. How could she let this—this liar take advantage of her? What was wrong with her? But she had been thinking of him all day, and it was as if his sudden and totally unexpected presence in her room was the result of her overactive imagination. As if she had somehow conjured him up out of thin air from the sheer force of her thoughts!

  She heard his muffled groan and knew his own body was leaping into hard, demanding alertness. It called to her on a nonverbal level, seeking her, wanting to bury itself in her warmth. The gentle, teasing quality of the kisses changed gradually, deepening into the heavy, drugging, seductive caresses that had left her so helpless on the beach the previous morning.

  “You can’t hide from me, honey,” he grated, his mouth sliding moistly, burningly along her cheek to cover her lips in a plundering, arousing kiss that shook off the last of the gentle cajolery and bared the uncompromising male desire beneath.

  “I know you want me. It’s only your silly female pride standing in the way,” he murmured against her bruised lips. “But I’ve apologized for that business with the contract. Forgive me for that and I’ll forgive you for trying to sneak out tonight!”

  “It’s not that simple, damn you,” she wailed, her lashes moving restlessly against her cheeks as she felt the throbbing in her stomach.

  “Yes, it is,” he countered throatily. “It’s as simple as getting rid of the towel between us!” With that he moved against her, his chest crushing her breasts for an instant before he stepped back a couple of inches.

  The red towel gave up the battle and slipped soundlessly to the floor at their feet.

  “No!” Leya whimpered, and then her words were swallowed up as he forced his tongue deeply into her mouth and his arms released hers to encircle her still-damp, nude body.

  It was getting worse, she thought frantically while she could still think at all. Every time he held her she was less able to resist, less able to deny him. She felt the firm thrust of his strong thighs as he lowered his hands the length of her back and arched her hips into him. His fingers snarled themselves in the long ends of her hair and used the leverage to force her head back further so that his mouth could explore her throat.

  “God, Leya!” he swore, his lips branding her, “I love the feel of you. I could get lost in your body. So much passion waiting for me, so much pleasure. I’ve wanted you since I first saw you across the lobby at that inn! You’re going to drive me crazy if you don’t admit you want me, too!”

  “But that’s not enough!” she gasped as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of her buttocks. A violent shiver rocked her.

  “It’s a damn good start!” he retorted, using his grip to force her into full awareness of his growing desire.

  The unmistakable desire in him was a commanding, aggressive pull on the ve
ry core of her femininity. It stirred her loins and weakened her knees until she was clinging to him for support.

  “Yes,” he whispered in thick triumph as he felt her clasping hands move over his back. It was as if he were accepting a surrender she hadn’t voiced aloud, and it shook her back to awareness as nothing else could have done in that moment.

  “Let go of me, Court!” she ordered in a rough, shaking voice. “We’re going to a party, not to bed!” She struggled wildly, as much against the masculine triumph she perceived in him as against the force of her own desire. He was not going to make a complete fool out of her!

  “Sweetheart, don’t fight us both. You can’t possibly win,” he purred huskily in her ear, his hands gentling her spine. “It’s going to be all right. Let me show you how good it’s going to be between us. You can trust me…”

  “About as far as I can throw you!” With a last, desperate push, Leya wrenched herself free and grabbed madly for the towel. She clutched it tight around her trembling body and backed slowly away from him. He followed her with his eyes but made no move to recapture his victim.

  “You’ve got a lot of nerve telling me to trust you after what you did to me!” she blazed, sweeping one hand harshly through her disarrayed hair. “And now you’ve come sneaking into my house like a common thief!”

  “You’d better hurry if we’re to get there on time,” he interrupted absently, glancing at the thin gold watch on his brown wrist.

  “What?” she managed, taken aback. She eyed him in confusion. “If you think I’m really going to that party with you…”

  “You just said you were,” he reminded her with deceptive casualness. A casualness that didn’t hide the underlying steel. “You said we were going to a party and not to bed. You wouldn’t think of backing out of a second date with me, now would you?”