“My what?” Leya knew she sounded almost as startled at the statement as Alex had earlier. She frowned at Susan.
“Isn’t it public knowledge yet?” Susan murmured with totally false anxiety. “I’m sorry if I wasn’t supposed to know, but frankly the whole room will know fairly soon. Rumors like this get around a party quickly, and several people here know you or your brother…”
“Who told you that I was engaged to Court?”
“Alex Harlow. You remember him?” Susan’s prompting on the name was quite unnecessary, Leya thought. She was well aware of what had happened a year ago. “He seemed very upset about something and left a few minutes ago. You wouldn’t know why he was angry, would you?” she added hopefully. Susan loved to know details.
“Haven’t the foggiest,” Leya retorted dryly. “As for this engagement business,” she began, intending to squelch the stupid rumor as quickly as possible. She was interrupted before the blow could be dealt.
“Leya! Just heard the news! Congratulations. That tall man with the bedroom eyes is the one, I take it?” Alice Compton came forward, a sandy-haired escort in tow. Alice’s cheerful expression was full of genuine goodwill.
“Bedroom eyes!” Leya exclaimed vengefully. “Court doesn’t have bedroom eyes. That sort of narrowed, sultry look is a sign of chronic laziness, not passion!” For the life of her, she didn’t know what made her say that, but the impulse was irresistible.
“I resent that,” murmured a familiar gravelly voice behind her, as Court’s hand snaked around her waist and removed the glass from her hand. “Let’s go home, little Leya, and we’ll find out exactly which emotion you’re seeing in my eyes!”
The laughter of those who heard the remark covered Leya’s gritted exclamation. She turned to lift mocking liquid eyes up to his. “I wouldn’t want to put you to the effort, darling,” she purred.
“Don’t fret, sweetheart,” he returned with a patently insincere assurance, “I’ve been fortifying myself at Susan’s buffet table. I think I can work up the energy!”
Under cover of more laughter from those around them, Leya bared her teeth in the parody of a charming smile. She confronted the deep, warning gleam in the tortoiseshell eyes and felt the overall intent in him as if it were a tangible electrical charge. He made no move to touch her but the threat in him was blatant.
“Oh dear,” she observed nastily. “Did you have an accident with your drink?” Her eyes ran mockingly over the dampened shirt front. A mixture of excitement and anger raced along her nerve endings as their confrontation began to escalate.
“Would you believe it? I seem to have gotten in the path of a young lady who’d imbibed a little too much this evening. But that’s all right. I’ve got a dry shirt at home. Are you ready to leave?”
“No, I’m not,” Leya murmured in satisfaction. “Unlike the poor young woman whose path you crossed, I haven’t had a chance to imbibe too much. I haven’t had a chance to finish even one drink tonight!”
“Pity,” he drawled heartlessly. “But if I’m going to make the effort to overcome my chronic laziness tonight, then the least you can do is try and keep from passing out on me!” His meaning was abundantly clear.
Keith’s voice interrupted over the ensuing roar of laughter from a gathering crowd. He pushed his way toward where his sister and Court were faced off, his green eyes laughing. Blonde little Angie was beginning to sulk at the lack of attention she was receiving, Leya had time to note.
“Are you two going to stand there and make a scene instead of officially announcing the engagement?”
“Yes!” Leya gritted willingly. She could think of nothing more satisfying in that moment than a knockdown, drag-out scene in which she was the undisputed victor! Her eyes never left her opponent’s face as he growled his answer almost simultaneously.
“No,” Court said quite clearly. “We are going to make the announcement and then go home and conduct our scene!”
“I certainly hope you enjoy giving a performance on your own, because I intend to stay right here at the party!”
“Leya, my charming wife-to-be,” Court said with vast politeness, “I will give you a choice: You may leave this party on my arm or over my shoulder. Take your pick!”
She felt the threat in him, but Leya’s own emotions were vibrating at too high a pitch to care. The platinum sheen in her eyes clashed with the molten gold in his and she smiled dangerously.
“Is that a multiple-choice question?” she asked interestedly.
“It is.”
“Then I choose ‘none of the above’!” Leya whirled away, intent only on getting out of range as quickly as possible. But the amused crowd hemmed her in, trapping her very conveniently for Court, who didn’t hesitate.
“I’ll bet,” he offered as his hand struck, encircling the small bones of her wrist like a manacle, “that you never did very well on multiple-choice tests in school!”
Leya gave a squeak of very real alarm as she felt herself yanked off balance. Before she could clutch at something, anything, she felt the impact of Court’s shoulder in her stomach and then she was staring down his back at the floor, her heavy braid falling past her head.
For an instant, the wind was knocked out of her and, unable to protest, she heard her captor speak quite matter-of-factly to the roomful of people.
“You’ll excuse us, I’m sure, while I take Leya home, so that one of us can beat the other into submission in private!”
Leya gulped air as Court began striding for the door.
“Keith!” she cried furiously. “Do something!” Desperately, she tried to twist her head high enough to see her brother, who spread his hands helplessly.
“What can I do, Leya? The man has an iron-clad contract to do just about anything he likes with Brandon Security!” The laughter in him was pure Brandon. “And you signed it yourself!”
“I’m not part of Brandon Security!” she charged ominously, knowing she had been carried almost as far as the door.
“Yes, you are,” Court corrected as he put his free hand on the knob. “You’re the silent partner, remember?”
“Damn you!” Then, knowing she needed the last word before the door closed, she said to the ring of delighted faces, “For the record, there is no engagement!” The last memory of the party was that of Keith’s laughing eyes.
But her own silver-green gaze contained no humor at all as Court dumped her unceremoniously into the front seat of his car a moment later, slamming the door as she righted herself. He was sliding in beside her on the opposite side of the car before Leya had straightened up and found the door handle. He turned in the seat, filling the whole front cockpit with his strength and will, or so it seemed to Leya. His arm stretched out along the back of the seat, his hand resting threateningly behind her head as she twisted to face him.
“How dare you?” she choked, her fury and humiliation rising up like a tide. “How could you do a thing like that to me? You had absolutely no right to drag me off like that and…and make a fool of me! Again!”
“You asked for everything you got, Leya Brandon,” he bit out and she abruptly realized there was no laughter in him, either. Their scene at the party might have amused the bystanders, but the two participants were in deadly earnest, locked in a battle that had escalated to major proportions.
“Only from your point of view,” she spat. “Personally, I see myself as an innocent victim!”
“Shrews are never innocent victims! I’m still damp from that drink you threw all over me in a fit of temper, remember! And after all I’d just done for you, too!” he added, plainly outraged. In the darkness of the cold car, his eyes gleamed down at her.
“All you had just done! You’ve got your nerve! You simply walked into a private scene between me and another man…”
“Walked in just in time to hear you making use of me to revenge yourself on said other individual! Talk about nerve, Leya, you don’t seem to be lacking in it! I heard you tell Harlow you were i
n love with me, that my kisses made his seem like cold dishwater. That’s called playing one man off against another, little witch, and I don’t like being part of your games! I was willing to tolerate it so you could have your revenge on me, too, but…”
“Tolerate it! You did a hell of a lot more than tolerate it! What did you hope to accomplish by letting everyone think we’re lovers? Was it all part of the challenge, Court? The challenge I seem to represent to you? I can see how it all started, naturally. First, you were annoyed when I didn’t meekly show up at the meeting you’d arranged so that you could browbeat me into signing that contract. Then, after you’d tricked me into signing it, you couldn’t satisfy your damn male ego, which only knows one kind of victory over a woman. I realized what was happening before you got me into bed and that really annoyed you, didn’t it? Made the challenge all the greater, didn’t it? Then, tonight you deliberately came to my rescue and backed up my story to Alex. That gave you the opening you needed to renew your campaign to polish off your big win at Brandon Security! And I, like the complete fool I’ve shown myself to be lately, fell for it. I actually let you talk me into giving our relationship another chance!”
“You’ve got it all figured out in your own brilliantly twisted fashion, don’t you?” he grated. Out of the corner of her eye, Leya saw the hand resting beside her head close into a fist.
“Go ahead and deny it if you can! The only thing I don’t understand is why the hints of marriage to Keith? Why let him think you’re serious? But I suppose those were just tactics, weren’t they? Little flanking maneuvers to push me in the right direction?
“Which happens to be my bed! And that’s where you’re going to wind up, sooner or later, Leya my shrew,” he flung back, “because you know what I think? I think you were telling Alex Harlow the truth tonight, even if you were using it for your own purposes!”
“What the hell are you saying?” she blazed, infuriated anew.
“I think you are in love with me! I think you fell in love with me back in Oregon!”
“In only two days?” she scoffed, secretly appalled at his analysis. “Not likely!”
“What does time have to do with it? I could have taken you that night you signed the contract and you know it! I could have done it the next day, even though you were furious at me. When I held you and touched you on the beach, you were responding in spite of yourself!”
“You’d like to think that’s the truth, wouldn’t you? That I’d actually be so overcome by your mastery of seduction I’d fall in love with you regardless of what you did to me! Much more satisfying than just getting me into bed and more efficient, too! A woman in love is probably a lot easier to control than one who will merely consent to go to bed with you. That would give you a hell of a victory, wouldn’t it?”
“Leya, you’re becoming totally unreasonable. I’m taking you home!” Court threw himself around in the seat, shoving the key into the ignition and slamming the expensive car into gear.
Leya could read the fury in him and the control he was exerting over it. It radiated out to every corner of the vehicle.
“Thank you,” she bit out icily. “Home is precisely where I want to go!”
In the dimly lit interior, she saw him lift one heavy eyebrow but he said nothing. She sat in frozen silence as he drove with an economy of movement and wished her own self-control wasn’t so weak.
Oh, the anger was a bracing enough emotion, but the slight trembling in her lower lip was caused by another feeling entirely, one she didn’t want to acknowledge but which forced itself on her awareness. Leya was far too honest to pretend she didn’t understand what her mind and body were crying out. For a while, there on the terrace this evening she had wanted very badly to say the score between herself and Court was even, to declare a truce and start over. And Court was smart, too smart not to guess that for a few moments he had been close to getting what he wanted.
But why? she wondered bitterly. What kind of man would get so intrigued by the kind of challenge she represented? What kind of man needed to assert his victory over a woman by dragging her off to bed? The answer had to be only a man who knew his victory wasn’t secure.
“Where are we going?” she suddenly demanded suspiciously.
“I told you, I’m taking you home. My apartment. You wouldn’t want me to catch cold in this damp shirt, would you?” he added mockingly.
“It won’t take that much extra time to drop me off at my home, first!”
“Heartless creature,” he murmured, not changing direction.
“Court!”
“Leya,” he sighed. “We’re going to talk this out tonight and my apartment is the logical place to do that.”
“Afraid of giving me the home-court advantage?” she snapped.
“I suppose,” he nodded wryly. “Maybe I’ll feel safer on my own turf. I’ve had it with your crazy reasoning processes. To think I once thought you an intelligent woman!”
“Your insults don’t bother me, Court,” she managed tightly. “Perhaps if you think I’m not too bright you’ll lose interest in the game!”
“I’m not the one who wants to play games, Leya, but if you force me into them I can guarantee I’ll play to win.”
“Your threats don’t bother me any more than your insults!”
“In that case, you’ve got a lot to learn.” But he sounded calmer now, as if he were determined to be reasonable in the face of a totally unreasonable woman’s tirade.
He also sounded implacable, and although she made a few more attempts to talk him out of it, Leya knew with great certainty that he wasn’t going to take her back to her own house until he’d had his say on his own territory.
The ride was concluded in chilly silence. When at last Court drew the car into the parking lot of an exclusive condominium complex, Leya finally roused herself sufficiently to note caustically, “I thought you said you had an apartment.”
“I’m renting one of the condos from the owner.” He shrugged. “It feels like an apartment.”
The thick, verdant landscaping lent privacy to the individual units of the complex. The condominiums were modern, typically Californian in style with cedar siding, interesting angles, and a great many windows. Not at all as cozy and welcoming as her own home, Leya decided smugly.
“Come on, let’s get inside. I’m cold.” Court switched off the engine, heading around to Leya’s side of the car but failing to arrive in time to assist her.
He said nothing about her obvious desire to ignore the intended courtesy, merely taking her arm firmly in his and leading her up the flagstone path.
“I can’t imagine what else you have to say this evening,” she grumbled as he silently opened the front door and ushered her into a pleasant but, to her eyes, uninspiring living room.
“Why don’t we simply call the whole thing quits?” she added, taking in the politely neutral cream-colored carpeting, the bland but expensive beige-and-tan modern furniture and the touches of teakwood in the end tables. “You’ve won the basic prize by getting me to sign that contract. Have the grace to be content with the major victory!”
“What?” he demanded with the first hint of humor since they had left the party. “And imply you aren’t as important a victory as the contract was? I wouldn’t think of insulting you so!”
“Why not? You’ve already insulted me by telling me I’m not particularly bright.” Leya chose one of the rounded tan chairs near the fireplace and flung herself into it with unconscious grace. Arms stretched out along the curving back, she crossed her legs with deliberate elegance and disdain and eyed him coolly.
“But you know that really isn’t true, don’t you? And therefore it was very ineffective as a slander. I only said it out of annoyance,” he told her dismissingly, his eyes following her movements.
Leya gritted her teeth. “Why should you be annoyed at a challenge, Court? My brother says it’s the only thing that gets you excited in life!”
“Where does everyone g
et this notion that I’m attracted to difficult problems?” he demanded, lifting golden-brown eyes toward heaven in a beseeching gesture.
“Aren’t you?” Leya ground out, gazing at him morosely from under her lashes.
“Not in my private life,” he retorted feelingly, coming across the room with a slow, stalking stride.
“Nonsense,” she shot back caustically. “A challenge is a challenge. Tell me about this flaw in your character, Court Tremayne. What is it with the idea of a challenge? Were you the kind of little kid who couldn’t resist a dare?”
“If we’re going to get involved in a discussion of my childhood, you’ll have to excuse me while I change my shirt, first.” His hands went to the buttons of the yellow fabric and Leya glanced pointedly away. “Why don’t you make us some tea while I, er, slip into something more comfortable. I think you’ll find everything you need in the kitchen.” He paused. “And stop looking at the furniture that way. It’s not mine. It came with the condo.”
He turned and walked out of the living room, leaving her to do as she liked about the tea. Fingers drumming on the arms of the chair, Leya considered the options and decided to make the beverage. She’d known the furniture hadn’t been his, she told herself wryly. She had the feeling his normal décor would be a lot more like her own: bright, positive, and warm.
The condo kitchen was as sleek and modern as the rest of the place. A copper teakettle sat invitingly on the almond-colored stove, and with very little rummaging, she found the teacups. They were conveniently near the stove, exactly where she kept her own at home. She and Court even organized alike!
“There,” he informed her, walking back into the living room a few minutes later buttoning a dry shirt, “that’s better. Now I can discuss my character flaw without danger of catching cold!”
Leya set the tea things down on one of the teak tables and watched as he knelt in front of the fireplace and began to stack kindling.
“Perhaps talking about it will help you work it out,” she agreed sweetly, too sweetly.
“You’re very kind. I don’t think you’re asking out of anything more than clinical interest, but I’ll try and explain, anyway,” he sighed, striking a match and bending his head momentarily over the flame.
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