Stormy Challenge (22 page)

"Not at all!" he assured her, following her into the living room, where a number of other people had already gathered. "The effect is terrific. Court will go crazy. What can I get you to drink? The usual?"

"That will be fine." She glanced around the room at the well-dressed, cheerful crowd. "You know, Keith, a year ago I wouldn't have been able to imagine you giving a party like this," she added in an admiring whisper.

"Upward mobility,' he explained succinctly, splashing liquor over ice with casual flair. "You have to act like a success even if you haven't quite reached that point yet."

"You're really getting into this executive lifestyle, aren't you?" she teased, watching with wry interest as a lovely blonde detached herself from a group of people and made her way toward the bar. "Your date for the evening?" Leya added in a low tone.

"Haven't got one yet," Keith told her easily, sipping his whiskey. "But I suppose Janice here might do."

"I'll leave you to impress her with your aura of power," Tossing a smile at the advancing Janice, Leya made her way into the fringes of the crowd, searching out the people she knew and wondering how many here tonight had witnessed the dramatic exit she had made from her last party.

She was seized with a haste that would normally have surprised her. But tonight, as the nervous anticipation of Court's arrival began to mount, Leya hardly noticed the eager interest of several males in the crowd. She responded to it because the excitement in her needed some outlet and each new man on the scene was another object to absorb the energy that pulsed through her, lighting her eyes and curving her lips in a lazy, challenging invitation. More than once, she felt a stray hand unobtrusively come into contact with the sable hair as it swirled almost to her waist.

"Keith mentioned a sister," murmured a newcomer as Leya was handed a second drink by willing hands. "He forgot to mention the color of her eyes."

"An important omission?" she asked lightly, lifting dark lashes to give him the full benefit of the near-platinum green. The stranger was very good-looking, she decided clinically, and he had somehow managed to cut out the rest of her eager entourage.

She glanced absently around and wondered how he'd done it. Somehow, she was isolated in a corner of the room, hemmed in by a potted plant on one side and the stranger on the other.

"Very important," the man assured her, dark eyes narrowing sardonically. "I have a weakness for green-eyed women, you see."

"Your weakness doesn't appear to have brought you to ruin," Leya grinned recklessly, tilting her head to study the waving black hair and handsomely cut features. Deliberately, she allowed her gaze to travel politely over the expensive, buttery-soft suede sport jacket and black shirt worn with a rakish air.

"Most of the time I'm able to control it before too much damage is done," he agreed, holding up his left hand to demonstrate a ringless finger. Then he glanced at her own bare left hand. "Apparently, you've managed to steer clear of the trap, too?"

"So far," she agreed, eyes laughing up at him. Where was Court? Perhaps he wouldn't make it tonight, after all. On the other hand, how was she going to behave when he did get here? The tension had strung her nerves to a fine pitch. The earrings tingled in her lobes.

"Something tells me you and I have a lot in common."

"But your eyes aren't green," she protested.

"Are you going to hold that against me?" he complained softly, bending his head down in an attentive fashion and bracing one hand against the wail behind her. He smiled. "I promise you I have other attributes."

"Have you?" she inquired dryly, arching one brow. "Let me guess. Do you play tennis?"

"Excellently," he chuckled, dark eyes warming.

"Golf?"

"Near-par game every time!"

"Jog?"

"Every morning."

"And where's your favorite vacation spot?" she asked curiously, letting him mistake the teasing questions for genuine interest.

"Any place I can ski in the winter and sail in the summer. Do I pass?"

"I'm afraid you just flunked," she told him sadly. "I don't do any of those things."

She looked up at him with laughing mournfulness.

"You prefer indoor sports?" His smile broadened seductively. "I have a talent for those, too."

"You're very accommodating."

"I do my best."

Leya parted her lips to make a flippant response and was suddenly aware of a change in the atmosphere of the room. The gathering excitement in her blossomed into full bloom, and she felt as if she were walking a glass-edged tightrope. Court was here. She knew it with every instinct in her body.

Affecting a casualness she was far from feeling, she allowed her gaze to sweep the large crowd until she focused on the door. Court stood there, talking to her brother.

The tortoiseshell hair had been lightly ruffled by a chill evening breeze, and he was wearing the conservative gray suit he must have worn to his business meetings during the day. The coat had been discarded, probably left in the car, but the classic white shirt was still neatly buttoned and the dark tie in place.

Even as she glanced in his direction, the golden-brown eyes swung abruptly and pinned her from across the room. Leya was very conscious of the attentive dark-haired man leaning over her, trapping her in the corner of the room, and of the grim narrowing of Court's eyes before he turned his attention back to Keith. Leya sighed. She would have a bit of explaining to do. Well, he couldn't expect her to attend a party and not mingle with a few guests, she thought righteously, beginning to edge out of the corner.

"Don't leave, green eyes. I haven't even gotten around to telling you my name," the man hovering over her complained softly, coaxingly. "And you haven't told me yours, either. Your brother forgot to mention that, too."

"My name is Leya," she told him idly, her eyes still on the door. "And I'm afraid I really must—"

"Hey, something wrong, Leya? Do you know the guy who just came in?"

"I know him. Look, if you'll excuse me—"

"My name," he said very distinctly, "is Alan. Alan West. Now about my expertise at indoor sports ..."

Leya knew Court was starting toward her, pushing his way across the room. She couldn't see him now as the crowd came between them but she could feel the waves of his approach as surely as if they were made of water. They lapped against her skin in increasing frequency and power. She knew she had to get away from Alan West.

But even as she tried to dodge politely aside, Alan's hand fell protestingly on her shoulder. It did so just as Court emerged beside them.

"Good evening, Leya." His voice was a dark and unbelievably soft menace. "Say goodnight. We're leaving." His eyes went to the hand on her shoulder, and Leya stared at him unhappily.

Alan, sensing the suddenly thick atmosphere, took one look at the straihed faces of the other two and removed his hand with a small exclamation of apology.

"Sorry," he murmured laconically to Court. "Didn't realize she was private property."

"She's having a little trouble understanding that herself, apparently," Court shot back coolly, grasping Leya's wrist and starting back toward the door.

"Take your hand off me!" Leya hissed waspishly as she was dragged forcefully through the crowd. "There's nothing for you to be upset about! I was merely chatting with Alan—"

"Flirting is the word," he growled stonily. "Did you bring a coat?"

"No."

"Good, then we don't need to delay any longer."

"My brother—"

"—Won't miss us."

"Court, I won't be dragged out of another party like this!"

"So sue me!"

"Damn it, Court—"

"What the hell did you think you were doing in that corner, anyway? Making comparisons? Or did you want to see what I'd do when I saw you? You once said something about being interested in genuine male jealousy, didn't you?"

"That's ridiculous!" she grated, a little frightened now.

"I agree. But since you're so interested, I'll be happy to show you what it's like to be standing under a ton of bricks when they come tumbling down!"

He turned at the door, his hands tunneling under the cascade of her hair to circle her neck. The tortoiseshell eyes were blazing. "I won't have it, Leya. Do you understand me? I won't let you drag anyone else between us. There's only you and me, and I'm not going to let you muddy the waters. Eventually, we're going to settle—"

His words cut off as he drew in his breath with sudden sharpness. Leya realized with a pang of panic that the movement of his hands had brushed back the fall of dark hair, revealing the emerald earrings. She stiffened, able to think only that the moment wasn't turning out as she had planned. She was helpless to deny the significance of the jewelry.

"Leya!"

Court's voice was a hoarse growl in his throat. His fingers moved urgently on the nape of her neck. "Leya, my sweet shrew, why didn't you show me right away? My God! You're determined to drive me insane first, aren't you?"

He didn't wait for an answer, dragging her close and covering her mouth in a rough possession that made her gasp. Then he held her a few inches away, his face intent, his expression urgent and demanding.

"Tell me, Leya. Tell me what it is you're going to ask of me. I gave you the right to ask anything, remember? Anything!"

Leya met his flaming gaze and gathered all her courage in the palm of her hand.

"I'm . . . I'm asking for marriage, Court," she breathed.

For a split second, he looked absolutely stunned. It must be her imagination, she thought wildly as the expression vanished in the next instant. He started to say something, and then Keith's voice was behind them, cheerfully interrupting.

"Hey, you two! This is a proper executive party! None of that around here!"

"This is a special occasion, Keith," Court whispered huskily as his eyes roamed with golden heat over Leva's revealing face. "Your sister just got herself engaged. To me."

Keith took the news much more in stride than Leya did.

"Well, congratulations, sister! Of course, I can't pretend to be astounded. I was pretty certain that was the way it would end. After all . . ."

"Later, Keith," Court murmured thickly, gathering a trembling Leya close against him. "We were just leaving. I'm sure you'll understand."

"So soon?" Keith grinned, smiling into his sister's bemused eyes. "But it's such fun seeing Leya struck dumb!"

"Treasure the memory," Court advised. "I'm sure it won't happen often. Now, if you'll excuse us?"

Leya realized abruptly she wasn't the only one who was trembling. She could feel the fine tremor in Court's hand as he guided her purposefully through the door. As she pulled her chaotic thoughts back into focus, she was at last aware that the moment had shaken him as much as it had her.

"If you must, you must," Keith was saying philosophically. "I'll see you both later."

He smiled directly at Court. "Take care of her, Tremayne. She's the only sister I've got."

"You have my word on it," Court vowed with deep assurance, his eyes still on Leya's face. "I'll take excellent care of her."

A second later, they were alone on the steps. Wordlessly, Court hurried his silent captive down the short path and across the street to where his car was parked.

He tucked her gently inside, then slid in beside her, turning to pull her close in the cold darkness.

"Let's go someplace very private and celebrate our engagement," he whispered as she buried her face against his chest. His hands stroked through the thick hair, pausing to touch the emeralds in her ears as if he couldn't quite believe they were there. "My God, Leya, you don't know what you've done to me tonight!"

"Did you . . . did you mean it, Court?" she said in a muffled voice, thrilling to the heat and strength of him as he h^ld her close. "Are you really willing to marry me?"

"I said you could ask anything you wished of me, didn't I?"

She swallowed, not certain she should pursue that. "Are you still angry about Alan West?"

He sighed. "I can hardly blame the man for getting you off to himself. It's what I want to do every time I see you."

"You're being awfully noble about it!"

"Aren't I, though? Come home with me, Leya, and let me make love to you the way I've been aching to do since we first met!" he pleaded roughly, his lips in her hair and his hands moving tantalizingly along her back. "I want you so much, my little shrew!"

"Am I really a shrew, Court?" she asked, her body already responding to the need she could feel emanating from him.

"You can be anything you want to be," he told her magnanimously, "as long as you wear those emeralds in your ears!"

She could practically taste the lazy male triumph in him. Leya had told him everything he wanted to know by wearing the earrings. But all she knew about his side of things was that he wanted her. Wanted her badly enough to marry her.

Well, it would have to be enough, she told herself stoutly. She trusted him.

Completely. He would not talk of marriage unless he was fully prepared to commit himself. Love would come in time, she vowed with the full depths of her willpower.

She would
make
it happen!

"Where are we going?" she asked as he firmly disentangled himself and turned the key in the ignition.

"I told you. Someplace where we can celebrate our engagement!" His gaze glittered through the surrounding darkness, reaching out to touch her in an almost physical way. Leya shivered in reaction, aware of the weakness assailing her limbs.

"My house?" she managed after a few minutes as she recognized the route.

"It's that stairway," he grinned, much pleased with himself. "So romantic."

"Court!" she flushed, the laughter somehow seeming appropriate mixed with the passion. It seemed right.

But she found little else to say as he parked the car in her drive, helped her out, and took the key from her hand. A moment later, she stepped through the door and turned to find him closing it behind them with a final-sounding clunk.

They stared at each other in silence, drinking in the need and desire that was fully mirrored in each other's eyes. The tension wafted around them, coiling tighter and tighter as the curious silence continued.