by Janet Dailey
"Then you can act the dutiful and devoted niece, is that it?"
Her mouth opened to protest the tinge of sarcasm in his voice, but she caught herself in time. "I think I can play the role as effectively as you play yours as the loyal attorney."
The last light was switched off, throwing the mansion into darkness. Lisa waited at the steps while Slade locked the door. When he joined her, she started to descend the steps to the car, but his hand caught at her arm to stop her.
"I'm almost sorry the truce is over." He seemed to make the admission reluctantly.
Lisa agreed, but she wouldn't admit it. "You started it."
"You didn't waste any time making a retort."
"Did you expect me to turn the other cheek?"
"Would it have hurt you?" Slade countered.
His saturnine face was shadowed by the night darkness and Lisa couldn't see how much of his regret was mockery and how much of it was sincere.
"If you must know, yes, it would have," she returned sharply.
"We can't keep insulting each other if we're going to be partners."
"Who said we were going to be?" Lisa retorted. "I'm not convinced that I need you."
"Yes, you are. It just sticks in your craw to admit it." There was no mistaking the complacency in his tone. He was utterly sure of himself and Lisa.
"Maybe it's the other way around." She stubbornly resisted making the admission even though she knew she would eventually. Once Slade believed that she was on his side, he would confide exactly how he was obtaining Mitzi's money. "Maybe you need me more than I need you and you don't want to admit it."
"But I already have — when I made the proposal that we should work together," he reminded her. "What do you say? Are we partners?"
"I'd like to think about it." Now why did she say that? Lisa wondered. Did she want to make him sweat a little?
"What is there to think about? You know you've already made up your mind." He seemed to find her resistance amusing and futile.
"Maybe I have." Lisa tipped her head challengingly to one side, her silver blond hair shimmering in the faint light. "Maybe I've decided the answer is no. Did you think of that?"
He drew his head back, the angle faintly mocking, and she saw the corners of his mouth deepening. "If your answer was an outright no, you wouldn't have come with me tonight. You would have told me at the gardens to get lost. But you didn't. That means the answer is yes."
Lisa glanced away, her lips thinning. "You're very sure of yourself," she commented with irritation.
"No." His thumb and forefinger captured her chin and turned her back to face him. "I'm sure of you and the way your mind works."
His insolence was beyond belief, but it was the shiver of feeling evoked by his touch that claimed her. It rippled down her spine in tiny shock waves. Her throat was dry, incapable of speech.
Damn the wine, she thought. It was making her light-headed. The ground seemed unsteady beneath her feet, as if she was aboard a floating boat. Slade stood so tall and steady before her that she wanted to sway against his solidness and regain her equilibrium. It was the craziest sensation because she knew she was imagining all of it.
His gaze narrowed on her face, dark brows drawing together. His dark eyes seemed to physically touch each feature, inspecting, faintly caressing until they halted on her lips, softened in curious vulnerability. Slade bent his head toward her, then stopped as if waiting for a protest from Lisa.
There was a fevered awareness that he was going to kiss her and an equally shocking discovery that she wanted him to. This ambivalence toward him was insane, but she made not the slightest sound to stop him. His dark head began moving again, closing the distance until there was none.
The brush of his hard mouth against hers drew a tiny gasp, as her nerves tensed in shock. Lightly he explored the lips he had once plundered, sensually feeling his way. An eyebrow was quirked in puzzled surprise when he raised his head. Her lips were tingling with pleasure from his caressing kiss.
"It's crazy," she murmured, voicing the bewilderment she felt.
"Yes," Slade agreed, not needing to ask what she meant.
"I don't even like you," she added.
"I know."
His hand left her chin to spear his fingers through the spun silver of her hair at the back of her neck, tilting her head to meet his descending mouth. Her lips parted instinctively on contact, a golden storm of sensations racing through her body at his possession. There was nothing tentative in his kiss this time, and she felt the shuddering response she made to his demand.
Abruptly Slade drew away, frowning as he looked down at her. There was a hardness to the line of his jaw, a checked anger in his expression. Shaken by her reaction, Lisa turned away, trying to stop the leaping of her senses.
"We'd better leave," he said tightly.
"Yes," Lisa agreed fervently, wanting to conduct no more experiments in his embrace — if that was what she had been doing.
His hand was at her elbow, more or less propelling her down the short flight of steps to the car. He was still frowning when he helped her into the car and walked around to the driver's side. He reversed the car out of the driveway without saying a word. It was only a few minutes' drive to Mitzi's house, but the heavy silence made it seem much longer.
When he turned the car into the drive and stopped, Lisa didn't wait for him to get out of the car and walk her to the door, but darted out on her own. Her good-night was lost in the slam of her car door.
Slade didn't follow as she rushed to the door, nearly running as if there was something that frightened her. The only problem was that Lisa was afraid of herself. At her aunt's door, she glanced back at the car. Slade was watching her, a thoughtful frown still darkening his face.
As Lisa entered the house, her aunt walked out of the study. Lisa struggled to appear composed. Mitzi glanced at the watch on her wrist, her expression registering astonishment.
"Is it that late already?" she murmured.
Lisa immediately seized on the remark to keep the subject away from herself. "Have you been working all this time, Mitzi?"
"I guess I have." The admission was made with a faint laugh of surprise. "I became so involved with the manuscript that I lost track of the hour. I hope you didn't think I was waiting up for you."
"For a minute I did think I was living at home again with mom mysteriously appearing whenever I came home from a date," Lisa smiled nervously, remembering how astute her mother was at reading her mind. She hoped Mitzi didn't possess the same prowess.
"How was your evening? Did Slade take you someplace nice for dinner?" Mitzi asked.
"It was very nice." Which was a safe answer as Lisa sought to avoid more personal questions. There was a great deal of her own emotional reaction toward the evening that she had to sort out.
"I'm sorry I had to back out like that at the last minute." The apology was sincere, and Lisa was convinced that her aunt's excuse had been genuine and not an attempt to manipulate the evening so she and Slade would be forced to be together.
"Slade explained why you couldn't come. I hope you managed to rescue your heroine," Lisa offered.
"Oh, I did." Mitzi's emphatic nod was cut short by the onset of a yawn. "You must be as tired as I am. It's time we both were in bed."
"Yes, good night, Mitzi." She walked to the stairs, relieved that she had avoided any discussion of Slade.
"Good night, Lisa," her aunt returned and started down the hallway to her bedroom on the ground floor.
Upstairs in her room, Lisa changed into her nightclothes and crawled into bed. She didn't switch off the light right away as she stared at the swirling cream satin of the canopy. Everything seemed suddenly very complicated. It was because of that kiss and the way she had responded to it. But more and more, it was because of Slade. She turned off the light.
The next day it was difficult to face him as Ann Eldridge. Lisa tried to be indifferently professional around him and failed miserabl
y. Fortunately Slade was too preoccupied to notice or he would have seen how nervous his temporary secretary was in his presence.
He was bending over her desk signing some correspondence she had typed and that he wanted in the mail that day. Lisa found herself studying the way the overhead light gave a blue black sheen to his hair.
Her gaze slid to his profile, to the hard male line of his month. Only last night, it hadn't been hard and unyielding when it covered hers. There had been a persuasive mastery to his kiss that her lips still remembered.
What was more important, she had let herself be persuaded to answer it. And it hadn't been an unpleasant experience. She only wished it had. It was so much easier to hate him than to be caught in conflicting reactions.
Her gaze shifted to the dark black of his eyes and found him returning her look with an absently puzzled quirk of his brow. Immediately, Liza glanced away, trying to cover the sudden confusion that brought a warmth to her cheeks.
"Is something wrong, Mrs. Eldridge?" he asked curiously.
"No, nothing," she rushed.
"Was there something you wanted to ask me?" Slade persisted.
"No. What could there be?" Lisa shrugged nervously.
"That's what I'm asking you."
Slade had been in a brooding mood all day. Because of that, this sudden interest in her made Lisa nervous and apprehensive. Perhaps he had noticed a resemblance between her and her other self. Lisa knew she had to be very careful.
"I assure you there's nothing," The letters were signed and she gathered them up to start folding them and putting them in their respective envelopes.
"If it's about your wages— "
"The agency pays me directly and will bill you later," she lied hurriedly. She wasn't going to accept his money when she was here to spy on him. "Was there anything else you wanted me to do?"
"Yes. Call Miriam Talmadge for me." Lisa paled at his clipped request. "Find out what time she expects her niece home this afternoon."
"Her niece?" Lisa repeated weakly, her face becoming even whiter.
"Yes, I believe that's what I said," he retorted impatiently.
"If — if Mrs. Talmadge should ask why you want to know, what should I tell her?" Her nerves were behaving as erratically as a jumping bean.
"Tell her it's none of her business." There was something savage in his snapped answer. Breathing in sharply, Slade immediately retracted his answer. "No, tell Mrs. Talmadge," he began, forcing himself to reply calmly to her question, "that I'll be over this evening to see Lisa — as well as Mrs. Talmadge," he added as a definite afterthought.
"All right," Lisa breathed, relieved that she was going to have advance warning of his visit.
Pushing back the tan sleeve of his suit jacket, Slade glanced at his gold watch. "If by some chance Mrs. Talmadge's niece should be there, put the call through to me and I'll talk to her. I'll be in Drew's office. If not, then pass the message on to me there as to when Mrs. Talmadge expects her back."
"I'll do that," Lisa promised, but Slade was already walking away, her compliance with his order anticipated.
After he had left her office, she toyed with the idea of speaking to him as Lisa Talmadge, pretending to be at her aunt's home. But there was too much risk that he might mention it to Mitzi, who would quickly deny that Lisa had been there.
Disguising her voice, she placed the call, informing Mildred of Slade's impending visit that evening, then crisply relayed the message to Slade that Lisa was expected home around six.
The knowledge that she would be seeing Slade that evening didn't make the day go faster. Instead it worked in the reverse, every minute dragging as she tried to guess his reason. Not knowing what to anticipate made her as skittish as a colt.
Her stomach was such a mass of knots that she was barely able to do justice to the meal Mildred had prepared. Every sound that came from outside of the house had her pulse skyrocketing, thinking it was Slade arriving.
"I don't know why Mildred didn't think to invite Slade to dinner," Mitzi sighed as she poured out the coffee and handed a cup to Lisa. "There was certainly enough food to go around, especially when you ate so little."
"I wasn't very hungry."
The cup was clattering in its saucer and Lisa realized that her hands were shaking. She quickly set the coffee on the table in front of the couch, clasping her hands together in her lap.
"I had a big lunch." The truth was she hadn't eaten anything. As a result, she felt weak and trembling inside, but the thought of eating any of the small cakes on the coffee tray was repellent.
"You haven't told me how you and Slade got along last night." Mitzi settled back in her chair, her own coffee cup held steadily in her hands, a bright gleam in her brown eyes.
"Okay, I guess," Lisa tried to shrug away the question indifferently, but her aunt wasn't to be put off by her uninformative reply.
Clicking her tongue in mock reproof, Mitzi insisted, "Your answer is much too nonchalant, Lisa. It couldn't have been as bland an evening as that. Come now, what happened really?"
"I don't know what you mean," Lisa denied nervously. "We went out to eat. We talked, drove around a bit and he brought me home."
"No face-slapping? No fighting? Just a quiet little evening, is that it? her aunt grinned knowingly.
"We argued, yes. Is that what you want me to say?" Lisa asked in agitation.
"But not all the time?"
Lisa rubbed her finger against the center of her forehead, trying to ease the throbbing pain. "No, not all the time," she admitted with a sigh.
"To be truthful, I didn't think you'd go out with him," her aunt commented.
"I didn't have much choice. He practically dragged me out of the house and into the car before I even found out you weren't coming along," she explained.
"That sounds like something Slade would do," Mitzi laughed to herself. "The two of you must have reconciled some of your differences after an evening together."
"I don't know." And that was the truth.
The doorbell rang and Lisa jumped. "That must be Slade," Mitzi announced unnecessarily.
As her aunt went to answer the door, Lisa rose from the couch and walked to a window, lifting aside the curtain to stare outside. Without turning, she knew the instant Slade entered the room. She felt the touch of his gaze and tensed.
"Hello, Lisa." The greeting seemed to be forced from him, his tone dipped and taut.
"Hello, Slade." An artificial smile curved her mouth as she glanced over her shoulder.
The sharpness of his gaze seemed to thrust into her like a dagger, pinning her helplessly on its point. Relentlessly, he searched her expression, noting its strained tension. The vaguely angry frown was back on his face when he finally looked away. Released from his gaze, Lisa felt all the more confused about why he had come and why her heart was beating so wildly.
"We were just having coffee. You'll join us, won't you, Slade?" Mitzi invited, already reaching for the third cup sitting on the coffee tray.
"Yes." But the answer was given automatically without interest.
"You look troubled about something, Slade," Mitzi said, as she poured the coffee.
His dark gaze flicked to Lisa, ricocheting instantly away. "It was a rough day at the office. I guess I brought some of it with me."
That wasn't true. It had been one of the quietest days at the office, and Lisa wondered why he had lied about it. She stared at him, sensing his restlessness. Although he wasn't moving, she had the sensation of him prowling the room. It was as though they were on the same wavelength, except that Lisa didn't know the cause of his restlessness. "Lisa, your coffee is getting cold," Mitzi reminded her.
"Sorry, I forgot." Then she wondered why she had apologized.
Her legs felt strangely weak as they carried her past Slade to the couch. She seemed to be caught up in his brooding mood, feeling the hidden disturbance as it grated on her nerve ends. His dark gaze was studying her, but she avoided meeting it.
"I didn't have an opportunity the other night to look at that review of your latest book, Mitzi," Slade said. "I'd like to read it."
"I'll get it," Lisa volunteered as quickly as she had the other time.
Her cup clattered noisily in its saucer as she set it down on the table and rose. But Slade's hand was on her forearm, stopping her with the punishing grip of his fingers.
"Mitzi will know exactly where it is," he said curtly. "Maybe not exactly," her aunt qualified, "but I probably would have a better idea of where it is than Lisa. You two wait here while I look for it."
"Oh, no really," Lisa protested, a wildfire flaming hotly over her skin.
"Lisa," Slade muttered beneath his breath. In the use of her name there was a demanding order for her to stay.
"Come to think of it— " there was a decided twinkle in Mitzi's eyes as she glanced at the two of them "— it may take me a little time to find that review."
Slade's piercing gaze never left Lisa's face. "I don't mind waiting, Mitzi."
Chapter Seven
WHEN MITZI HAD LEFT the room, Slade released Lisa's arm and took a hurried step away, turning his back to her. Lisa stared at the blackness of his hair brushing the rolled neckline of his ribbed, creamy yellow sweater, which complemented the tobacco-brown jacket of corduroy with light tan leather patches at the elbows.
"We both know you aren't here to read Mitzi's review, so why have you come, Slade?" Was that her voice that sounded so calm and nonchalant? It seemed impossible, considering the way she was trembling inside.
He slashed a black glance over his shoulder, brief and slicing. "It occurred to me that I was taking your agreement to our arrangement for granted. You avoided giving me a direct answer last night." Slade, too, sounded calm and controlled, yet the elemental currents crackling in the air seemed charged with high voltage.