"I suppose," Leya allowed, losing interest in the matter. "Well, I'll drop this in the mail tonight so that it will go out first thing in the morning. It will get back to Santa Rosa before I do." She waved the contract briefly and started forward just as if Court weren't standing between her and the door.
But in spite of her air of determined self-confidence, Court didn't step aside. She was forced to halt in front of him, as he stood with his back to the door, his hands behind him on the knob. There was an almost grim, brooding aspect in the tightened lines at his mouth and eyes. For a moment, he said nothing, watching her as she stopped warily a few steps away.
"Court?" she tried tentatively, uncertain of his mood. Carefully, she smiled, striving for a cool, calm look, when what she secretly wanted to do was give in to a very primitive urge to run. "Is breakfast still on?"
"How long will you be staying here at the inn?" he asked, ignoring the trivial question of breakfast. He watched her as if she were a small, nervous animal he wanted to catch. Prey, Leya thought uncomfortably. He really did see her as prey. Her only defense was not to act as if she saw herself the same way!
"Five more days," she told him coolly, agreeably, as if the conversation were quite normal and hadn't taken on overtones of the sort of raw menace that can only exist between a man and a woman. The menace might be present, she thought bracingly, but so were the intervening layers of civilization. She wasn't in genuine danger. Not unless she wanted to be! She returned his watchfulness with a polite, questioning glance, her head high. "And you?"
"About the same," he returned laconically. The gold-flecked eyes went to the contract in her hand and back to her unruffled expression. His voice deepened several shades to a throaty male command that was part plea. "Stay with me tonight, Leya. Please."
"Court," she said gently, "we've already discussed this. I can't. It's just... too soon."
Her hand moved in a helpless, ineffectual little gesture.
"You're afraid of me?" he rasped.
"Of course not!" she denied, trying to smile. She refused to think about the different aspects of fear. Not now. Now, she had to keep all her wits and self-control about her. She could do it. She knew herself to be both intelligent and strong, and she called on both qualities in full measure.
"You don't have to be afraid, Leya," he coaxed, as if she hadn't just disavowed any fear. "My trap is baited very pleasantly, I promise. You won't even hear it when the door shuts behind you."
"And in the morning?" she persisted in a distant voice, thinking that walking out of this room tonight was going to be one of the most difficult things she had ever done.
"By morning, there won't be any more talk of going back to your own bed at night!"
he growled thickly, his eyes moving over her in a near-physical touch.
Leya swallowed at the sheer audacity of his words, her hand clutching the contract in a desperate, white-knuckled grip. "No," she whispered. "I need time, Court. A little more time . . ." Her words were a plea and she hated that. It wasn't like her at all!
"Time for more games?" he rapped.
"No! Time to be sure!" she flung back, growing angry. Couldn't he understand? For a long, heart-stopping moment, she wasn't at all certain he would even try to see her side of the matter, and then his lids dropped in a speculative, slitted glance. She was keenly aware of the fact that he was literally putting a tight grip on his instincts and desires. Civilization was asserting itself.
"I'll see you back to your room," he finally announced, turning to open the door. He caught her arm as she walked forward, tucking it under his in a proprietary hold.
"And then?"
"And then I'll come back here and take a cold shower!" he exploded in a muffled tone that served to lighten the atmosphere between them as nothing else could have done.
"Poor Court." She giggled as they walked down to the lobby so that she could request an envelope and stamp from the front desk. "You really did have your plans made for this evening, didn't you?"
He glanced down at her laughing, upturned face. "With my propensity for laziness, I have had to develop a talent for being organized. It's the only thing that gets someone like me through life!" His mouth twisted laconically, and the golden eyes were rueful.
"I know what you mean!" she retorted with instant honesty. "I function in the same way. I imagine there are bound to be a few problems when two people like us meet!"
They stopped at the desk.
"Nothing insurmountable, Fm sure," he drawled, watching as she addressed the envelope and dropped it into the slot. She ignored his words.
"Well, that's that. Keith's day will be made when he gets the letter," Leya sighed, dusting her hands symbolically as she allowed herself to be led back up the stairs to her room.
"And now we can concentrate on the two of us," Court insisted smoothly.
At her door, he turned her briefly into hjs arms, his rough, strong hands cupping her head while he examined her face. His thumbs idly worked the delicate area of her temples. "One last time, Leya, will you ..."
"No," she cut in, smiling up at him. "The thought of you in a cold shower is too engaging to ruin!" She felt her confidence return in a warm tide, as she dug out her key. One simply had to maintain a sense of humor about life, she thought.
He shook her admonishingly, a reluctant amusement in his eyes. "For that remark, I promise you that one day you'll be joining me in a shower!" He bent down and dropped a swift, hard kiss on her mouth. "Goodnight, Leya. I'll see you first thing in the morning!" With that he was gone.
* * *
"Hello, Keith." She smiled into the phone. "I thought you'd like to know I signed the contract last night. It's in the mail."
"Leya!" Her brother's delighted voice came down the wire. "For that news, I'll even forgive you for having awakened me at such an ungodly hour! You won't regret it, you'll see. By the time Tremayne and I are finished, Brandon Security Systems will be number one on the West Coast!" There was a satisfied pause. "I knew once you'd met the man, you'd realize I was aware of what I was doing!"
Leya frowned uncomprehendingly. "But I haven't met the man," she began, about to tell him she'd met someone who knew Tremayne instead.
"Didn't he find you? I gave him the address of that inn. He said he would be up there in a couple of days." Keith sounded puzzled.
But puzzlement wasn't Leva's chief reaction to this piece of information. She was far too bright, too good at putting clues together to remain confused for long. It was, she thought with cold bleakness as she sat on the edge of the unmade bed, phone in hand, unfortunate that she wasn't quite bright enough to have realized what was going on before her brother dropped the clue.
"Leya?" Keith's voice prompted.
"A tall man?" she questioned dismally, already knowing the answer. "With brown-and-gold hair and eyes the color of tortoiseshell?"
Her brother laughed. "That sounds a bit dramatic, but an accurate description, I guess. I take it the two of you hit it off fairly well if he convinced you to sign that contract so quickly?"
"Oh, I have nothing but the highest admiration for your Mr. Tremayne," Leya said in soft bitterness. "An extremely clever man."
"Leya? There's nothing wrong, is there? You don't sound your usual self ..."
The knock on the door brought Leya's head up with a sharp jerk. Her fingers tightened on the receiver. "You'll have to excuse me, Keith. Your idol has just arrived to take me to breakfast," she whispered slowly.
"Fine," Keith sang out in cheerful satisfaction. "Give Court my best, will you? Tell him I'm looking forward to working with him!"
"I'll do that," Leya promised and set the receiver back in its cradle very gently, then got up to answer the door.
He must have known she was aware of the deception the moment she opened the door, Leya thought in cool fury. She saw the darkening of Court's eyes as he took in the set, distant expression on her face. He was every bit as smart as she was. No, that was unfair, she thought sardonically, he had just proven himself smarter. Yes, this man would know at once that he had been found out. But she wouldn't take even the smallest risk that he hadn't yet guessed.
"Good morning, Mr. Tremayne," she managed in a tight, hard voice she almost didn't recognize as her own. Her hand on the door trembled with the full force of her anger, and it took all her inner control to keep from raking the side of his face with her nails.
"Good morning, Leya," he returned quietly with such coolness that she found herself digging her naiis into her palm. "I take it you couldn't resist calling your brother to tell him the good news?" he added dryly. He watched her with a hard, grim look that suggested he knew exactly what she was thinking.
She tilted her chin in chilling disdain, taking in the dark slacks that hugged his narrow hips and the maroon sweater with an open-collared cream shirt underneath. So cool, so calm, so very much the winner in their unfair skirmish. A skirmish she hadn't even guessed she was fighting.
"Congratulations," she murmured flatly. "I can only apologize that the victory was so easy for you. It must be depressing to not even get a run for your money out of your opponent. Or perhaps you prefer the easy wins?"
He reached out with one large hand and jerked the door a couple of inches, just enough to pull it free of her death grip. Automatically, she stepped back a pace as he advanced into the small room, filling it with his massiveness. He closed the door behind him with disciplined care.
"The contract," he told her bleakly, "was not the important thing between us. I wanted it out of the way."
The corner of Leya's mouth turned down in self-disgust as she faced him, the long sable braid falling across the front of her yellow sweater. She had put on boldly yellow, brightly casual earrings to go with the sweater, and their strong color was a warm note against the darkness of her sleek hair.
"I see," she flung back tersely. "For you, a victory over a woman has to be asserted in bed, is that it?" Her scorn ricocheted around the room, returning to strike again and again, but it seemed to do little damage to his tough, male hide. "For the record, when would you have told me the truth?"
"When I had you safely in bed," he admitted with such readiness that it was all she could do to keep from throwing something at him.
"You're despicable!"
"I'm practical. Done my way, things would have been a whole lot easier than they're going to be now."
"You mean you would have been more satisfied with yourself if you'd managed to seduce me as well as get my name on that contract!" she blazed. "God! What kind of man are you? To think that last night I actually thought you had something of the gentleman in you! I can't believe I've been so incredibly stupid!" She turned away, crossing her arms tightly below her breasts and walked stiffly to stand in front of the mirror over the dressing table. How could she have been such a fool? This was worse, far worse than last time . . .
He moved to stand behind her, not touching her fiercely hunched shoulders. The gold-and-brown eyes met the flaring brilliance of her silver-green gaze in the mirror.
"That's the hard part, isn't it, Leya?" he prodded knowingly. "The knowledge that you were tricked."
"Being played for a fool rarely appeals to even the most good-natured people," she shot back scathingly.
"But it's much worse for those of us who have a fairly high opinion of our own intelligence, isn't it?" he pointed out. "I told you last night I'm not the only one cursed with a healthy ego!"
Leya trembled at bis words, not because of what they implied but because of what they were making her realize. It wasn't merely her ego that had been affronted by his scheming. Deep inside, she felt betrayed. And it was that feeling which was so hard to bear. It didn't help telling herself she had no reason to carry the pain that deep.
The critical thing was that she must not allow him to know the full extent of the blow he had delivered.
"Rest assured," she bit out furiously, "my ego has definitely taken a beating. Perhaps that information will take the place of the seduction you seemed to need to sweeten your victory?"
In the mirror, his face tautened. "We've got a lot to talk about, Leya. Come down to the beach for a walk. I want to explain everything, honey ..."
"You're crazy if you think I'd so much as walk down the hall with you after what you've done!" she stormed, whirling and planting her hands on her hips. "You've had all the victory you're going to get. Leave me alone!"
"I'm afraid that's not possible," he sighed.
"Would you like a little assistance from the inn manager? I'm sure he would be glad to stop you from harassing one of his guests! I'll call him!"
"Leya, calm down. I'm going to talk to you so there's no sense in ranting at me in an effort to make me leave. I'm not going anywhere without you!" There was a quiet steel in Court's voice that underlined the statement very distinctly.
"What can you possibly have to say to me? I have no wish to listen to your gloating!"
"I have no intention of taunting you about the contract, you little fool . . . !" he started heatedly.
Leya flinched at the word. "Must you call me that to my face? I'm only too well aware of my foolishness!"
"Damn it! I didn't mean it like that! It's only that I'm getting impatient with you and the phrase supped out. . ."
"Because it's what you think I am! A fool! Well, even fools learn eventually, Court Tremayne—" She broke off with a scalding look. "What the hell is your full name, anyway? Not that it matters!"
"Courtland Gannon Tremayne," he said evenly, his mouth tight.
"As I said, it doesn't really matter!"
"Sure it does," he retorted promptly. "It's much easier to swear at someone when you know his full name!" There was the smallest hint of amusement in his face.