Affair of Honor

by Stephanie James

  But Ryder would have gone to war for her.

  And gotten them both kicked out of the college, Brenna reminded herself ruefully.

  On the other hand, something in her knew the line had to be drawn somewhere. Logical compromise was all well and good, but each individual had to decide just how far he or she would go before saying that the limit had been reached. In that moment of self-understanding and analysis, Brenna acknowledged that Damon would go a great deal further than she would when it came to compromising for the sake of a career. How much further?

  Before she could explore that question, though, another matter had to be dealt with. Talk about drawing the line somewhere! She was most definitely going to have to do exactly that with Ryder Sterne. Every instinct warned that the attraction she felt for this man was dangerous in the extreme. She realized now, after having read The Quicksilver Venture, that his appeal was all the more hazardous because it wasn’t simply physical. A very elemental part of her sought the straightforward, utterly unyielding, fiercely independent strength in him. But it was all wrong to find those qualities in this man! She dared not let herself admit that she could give herself completely to a man who was not of the intellectual and academically sophisticated world in which she lived. She had worked so hard gaining entrance to that particular world! It was a kind of heresy to even contemplate the notion that she could fall in love with someone who did not share it with her.

  Fall in love! No! Brenna’s chin lifted and her amber eyes flared gold as she turned her head to fix Ryder with a condemning stare.

  “I do not belong to you, Ryder. Not in any sense of the word. We…we only went to bed together last night, we didn’t pledge our love, for heaven’s sake!”

  He put down the thick philosophy text and leaned forward to capture her face between his palms. The silver in his eyes was a banked flame. Brenna sensed impatience and an equal determination to control that impatience radiating through the lean, hard body.

  “I, like my readers, am not interested in sloppy, sentimental words such as ‘love.’ Please don’t use them to cloud the issue. We want each other, Brenna, and we need each other!”

  “How can you say that?” she pleaded. “We don’t need each other! Not in any meaningful way!” But she heard the lie in her own words and was desperately afraid he would see it. A part of her did need him; needed his honor and passionate way of living by his own code.

  He studied her face searchingly. “Lady, I have spent the day reading the works of the men and women you admire. Shall I tell you what I’ve learned?” Ryder didn’t wait for the answer. “You are a member of a profession that is not afraid to ask questions. The most incredible questions! The questions your predecessors have asked were so fundamental that they literally opened up the areas of human knowledge. They are the questions that are the foundation of science and mathematics and ethics and communications and logic. My God, woman! If you are going to follow in the footsteps of such people, surely you must find the courage to ask a few personal questions of yourself!”

  “Such as?” she challenged tightly, her pulse racing as she met the will and the power in him.

  “Such as what you want out of life! Such as what you want out of a relationship. Such as what you need from a man and what you’re capable of giving in return.” His voice deepened, becoming as deceptively soft and gentle as silk. “Such as why you made the decision to invite me into your bed last night.”

  “I didn’t! I…” Brenna closed her eyes against the accusation she sensed in him. “All right, so I did. That’s all there was to it, Ryder. I don’t know what it is you want from me!”

  “You,” he told her gently. “All of you. And I want exclusive rights. If I ever find your precious Dr. Fielding touching you again I’ll take him apart. I mean it, Brenna. I warned you last night that when you gave yourself to me it would be completely.”

  “You can’t blame me for not understanding how…how completely you meant!” she argued, aware even in frustration and anger how much her body longed to call off the battle. It would be so blissful to simply go into his arms and forget the past and the future. But the need to resist his challenge was just as strong. Brenna knew better than to succumb to the repressed streak of recklessness in her own nature. She could not trust that side of herself; she was sure it would lead to disaster.

  “Don’t pretend you misunderstood me,” he admonished with a wry quirk to his lips, his features softening. “I just finished the chapter on the philosophy of linguistic analysis! Even if I hadn’t read it, I would still, as a writer, have a great respect for the power of language, lady. And I know my words last night were very direct and to the point.”

  “This isn’t a joke, Ryder,” she protested, sensing the flash of humor in him. “You’re trying to push me into a full-scale affair and I won’t be driven like that!”

  He shook his head once in denial. “I’m not pushing, Brenna. I keep telling you I’m willing to wait.”

  “You say that and then turn around and make all sorts of demands!”

  “You gave me the right to place those demands,” he said evenly.

  “No!”

  “What are you going to do? If you choose to run, I think you know by now that I’ll come after you. If you stay here and work things out, I’ll give you some time in which to come to terms with yourself and the situation. Take your choice.”

  Anger surged to life in Brenna. In part it was directed against herself for even being tempted by this man, but she aimed it at him, nonetheless. With a swift movement she pulled herself free of his hands and leaped to her feet, the tension in her stiffening every line of her body.

  “How dare you presume to give me such choices, Ryder Sterne! No one, especially no man, has that right! I’ll do as I damn well please and I sure as hell don’t intend to let myself get boxed into a corner by you. Your conceit and arrogance are amazing! Do you really think I’ll let myself be used by you for an affair this summer? Someone to provide a little light relief after a hard day’s writing?”

  At her words his jaw tightened and his silver eyes became narrow and assessing. Brenna knew she was running a risk but she couldn’t seem to stop. She was feeling trapped both by the events of the morning and by the bonds Ryder was attempting to place on her. Her instincts were telling her to fight while there was still some chance of freeing herself. But when Ryder got almost lazily to his feet to stand in front of her, another instinct jerked into awareness. This one instructed her to be prepared to run.

  “You know damn good and well that I’m not looking for a ‘little light relief,’ as you put it,” he stated coolly. “If I were, I wouldn’t have told you that I was willing to wait politely for another invitation to your bed. Use your head, lady, and stop looking for flimsy excuses to attack me.”

  “What sort of excuse should I look for?” she tossed back flippantly. “Something tells me you’ll label all my excuses flimsy!”

  “Oh, you’ve got some good grounds for being afraid of me at this point,” he drawled dangerously. “I represent a threat to your whole way of life.”

  “The only threat in my life right now is the one to my career!”

  “You’re wrong, Brenna. That’s the easy one to handle. I’m another kind of threat altogether and you’re going to find me a lot tougher to deal with.”

  “You’re beginning to sound like the character in your novel,” she spat furiously. Her temper was raging and she didn’t seem to be able to bring it under control. Too much had happened to her today, and somehow Ryder seemed the focus of all the problems she faced.

  “Maybe you’ve got it all backward. Perhaps he’s the one who sounds like me,” Ryder taunted softly.

  “Well, I’m not the sexy, beautiful redhead in The Quicksilver Venture! I don’t intend to let myself be swept off my feet by a tough-talking macho type who thinks that because he wants a woman she should immediately surrender herself, body and soul!”

  The only response to that wa
s a casually raised eyebrow. It had the horrifying effect of bringing a warm flush into Brenna’s face. She already had surrendered herself once. How could she deny it? Brenna drew herself very straight, her head lifted proudly.

  “I can see there’s not much point in continuing this discussion. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to the cabin. It’s been one hell of an interesting day, I assure you!”

  Whirling in the sand, Brenna started for the safety of the pines and her own cabin. She refused to give in to the inclination to run. Not for the world would she allow him to think she was afraid of him! At twenty-nine she was not about to admit to fear of any man. Disgust, disdain, and irritation, perhaps, but not fear!

  “Brenna.”

  Her name was the quiet, snaking coil of a whip. It spun through the air behind her, reaching out and circling to bind her as it settled about her body with almost tangible force. Brenna wanted to run from it but she knew she couldn’t. Slowly she halted and turned to face the man who had managed to make the single word a command.

  For a long, tense moment they stood staring across the distance between them, each one assessing the other. Brenna felt the palms of her hands grow damp with the force of the conflicting emotions coursing through her.

  “Don’t give me orders, Ryder.”

  “I haven’t issued any orders. I only called your name,” he said quietly.

  But it had been an order and they both knew it; one she couldn’t deny because it demanded that she have the courage to stand and deal with the threat and the challenge in him.

  Without a word he started toward her slowly. “Don’t be afraid of me,” he growled deeply. “Don’t be afraid of yourself.”

  She watched him come closer and wished she could run. But she couldn’t, and there was no point thinking about it. “Ryder, I won’t let you seduce me,” she whispered.

  “No,” he agreed, halting a pace away.

  She tried again. “I’m…I’m sorry about what happened last night, about the way you interpreted it.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Please, don’t tease me!”

  “No,” he agreed again.

  “Are you angry?”

  “A little provoked,” he temporized dryly.

  Brenna lifted a hand, feeling helpless. “What are you going to do?”

  “Keep pressing my claim until you acknowledge it,” he told her calmly.

  “Is that a threat?”

  “No threats. I won’t be back in your bed until you invite me.”

  Surely that was safe enough, Brenna told herself. She could trust this man. With that thought came another, more impulsive one. She felt compelled to tell him that last night had meant something to her even though she didn’t want to be bound by the commitment he was invoking. It was an incredibly difficult thing to say, Brenna discovered.

  “Ryder, about last night…”

  “Let the subject of last night rest,” he said tersely.

  “Why?” she demanded in sudden annoyance. “Because we can’t agree on what it meant?”

  “You know what it meant. You just don’t want to admit it. Not yet.”

  “But you think I will in time?” she challenged.

  “We’d better let that subject rest, too.” He held out his hand. “Would you like to come over to my place for a sundown drink, dinner, and a little philosophical conversation?” He smiled in whimsical invitation.

  She hesitated suspiciously, knowing she was longing to accept the offered hand. The longing and the wariness in her were creating an unbearable tension, she realized. Her fingers quivered slightly as she slowly accepted his hand in a small surrender.

  “All right, Ryder. Thank you.” There was a sense of relief in the way his fingers closed warmly around hers. She took a steadying breath and then declared, unable to resist, “I still say you should never have struck Damon. Violence is never the answer!”

  A slow grin sliced across his tanned features, a knife blade of a grin. “I disagree. It can be satisfyingly decisive at times! You must occasionally crave for something decisive in your life after dealing with all those endless questions of philosophy.”

  He started back toward the cabins with her in tow, ignoring her withering glance. “What are you going to do about your job situation?” he asked after a moment.

  “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know. Damon is very influential. He’s sure to be next in line for the position of head of the department. After the way I insulted him this morning, I can probably assume I’ve burned my bridges at the college.” Brenna caught her lower lip between her teeth as she considered that. What a mess. The worst of it was that she couldn’t determine how she felt about it.

  “My decking him probably didn’t aid your cause any,” Ryder muttered laconically. “Will he fire you or get you fired?”

  “I don’t think he could do that but…” She let the sentence trail off.

  “But he could make life difficult for you on the faculty, right?”

  It was the truth. “Yes.”

  There was a small pause while Ryder appeared to be searching for the words he wanted. “The important thing is that you don’t really love him, Brenna,” he finally announced forcefully.

  “You think love is a sloppy, sentimental emotion, remember? Since you don’t have much respect for it yourself, you’re hardly in a position to tell me whether or not I’m in love!”

  “Take my word for it,” he retorted sardonically. “You’re not in love with Damon Fielding. You would never have gone to bed with me last night if you loved him!”

  Brenna shook her head, abandoning what was sure to be a fruitless argument. Ryder was too certain of himself and of her. As for herself, Brenna couldn’t seem to view her feelings toward Damon with any objectivity today. Ryder had occupied her thoughts from the moment she’d awakened in the empty bed, and it was Ryder who had set the pace for the strange day.

  It was easier during this time of uncertainty about her future to simply put the whole subject out of her mind and let Ryder continue to guide the evening. It was, she admitted privately, an unusual way for her to behave. Brenna Llewellyn couldn’t even remember the last time in her life when she had allowed someone else to direct the course of events. She had known where she was going, been aware of her responsibilities, and felt the obligations of her duty to her career and her brother for so long that any other way of responding seemed abnormal.

  But definitely easier for the time being, Brenna reflected a few hours later as she sat curled deep in the corner of the sofa in front of Ryder’s fireplace. Much easier. She had spent the day sidestepping her problems, and the technique had some definite attractions. She smiled a little ruefully to herself as she sipped the excellent brandy and gazed into the flames.

  The conversation all evening had been about philosophy and the characters in Ryder’s books. Brenna had been drawn comfortably into the folds of the conversation, giving herself up to the safety of it with pleasure and undeniable relief. There had been no more talk of her career or of the claim Ryder was making, and over the past few hours she had finally relaxed.

  At the opposite end of the sofa Ryder raised his brandy snifter in a small, intimate salute.

  “To another perfect evening.”

  Brenna’s lips curved as she turned her head to look at him. Her state of relaxation gave her the courage to tease now about a matter she would not have dared to bait him with a few hours earlier. “Perfect? Even though you’ll be sleeping in your own bed tonight?”

  As soon as she spoke the words Brenna regretted the impulse to tease. It was the first time the conversation had come back to sex all evening and she wished she hadn’t been the one to bring it up now.

  “My own bed,” Ryder repeated thoughtfully. “There’s nothing wrong with my bed. At least there are no stairs to climb.” He hesitated long enough to catch her full attention. “Will I be sleeping alone in my bed, Brenna?”

  Her head came up with a challenging movement
. The room seemed suddenly very warm to Brenna. Keep it light, she told herself firmly. Keep it light.

  “Don’t worry, Ryder. You’re safe enough tonight. I won’t be seducing you.”

  “I’ve always had a certain reckless streak,” he informed her gently. “Some forms of safety just don’t appeal. I think you share the same brand of recklessness, Brenna Llewellyn.” Very deliberately he sat up and placed his snifter on the brass-bound trunk in front of the sofa.

  Brenna saw the waiting trap in the silver eyes and felt her pulse quicken. In fear or desire?

  “You said you would wait,” she reminded him, her voice a thread of sound.

  “For an invitation,” he agreed with a nod, making no move.

  “There isn’t going to be an invitation.” But her fingers were trembling and she had to set down her snifter.

  “No?” He put out a hand and traced a tiny design along the line of her throat. The erotic little caress made her catch her breath. The gold in Brenna’s eyes was suddenly very warm. “Can you bring yourself to deny either of us tonight what we found last night?”

  “Have you been seducing me with the philosophy and the brandy all night?” she tried to ask flippantly.

  “No, you’ve been seducing me again,” he whispered throatily. “Talking to you is a seduction in itself, lady. Don’t you know that?”

  With an effort of will Brenna got to her feet. “I think I’d better go, Ryder,” she murmured. “Good night. Thank you for dinner.” Wrenching her gaze away from his, she tried to snap the bonds settling around her. But every step toward the door was like a step through quicksand.

  He was behind her, soft and silent and all leashed masculine power, when she put her hand on the doorknob.

  “I have to go, Ryder.” She stared down at her fingers as they tightened fiercely around the knob.

  “I’m not stopping you.”

  “Damn it!” She looked up furiously. “You’re not helping, either!”

  “That would be asking too much, lady,” he drawled very gently. “Far too much.”