because I have no intention of marrying you," she retorted simply. "Now, why don't you tell me what it is that brought you over here so bright and early this morning. The sooner you're on your way, the sooner I can do my washing."
He looked positively hurt. "Do you have any idea what it does to a man's ego to be told he's not as interesting as doing the weekly wash?"
"If I thought a listing of all the things I'd rather be doing than talking to you would put a serious dent in your ego, I'd start rattling them off," she assured him, taking a defiant sip of tea.
The amber gaze narrowed slightly as he watched her hair turn briefly to bronze in the light of the morning sun streaming in through the sliding glass doors that led out onto the patio.
"Calla," he began determinedly, "I'm sorry about last night."
She looked up and her sea-colored eyes clashed with his. "Sorry you asked me to marry you or sorry you forced your attentions on me or sorry you blackmailed me into working for you?"
His mouth twisted wryly. "I seem to have a lot for which to apologize."
"I'll agree with that."
"Would you do me the honor of accepting my apology?" he asked carefully.
"When you tell me exactly why you're apologizing."
Humor filtered into the amber gaze and Calla saw the crinkly lines at the corners of his eyes deepen slightly. He was repressing a smile.
"I should know by now you're a very cautious negotiator," he observed.
"I've had a lot of experience during the past month," she reminded him pointedly.
He inhaled slowly, meditatively. "I want us to start from scratch, Calla. I want to be allowed to, well, court you. What I'm apologizing for is having allowed matters to get out of hand last night. I never meant to rush you, little one. I knew you were the sort of woman who needed some time. But somehow, after you admitted you'd known all along how much I want you, everything seemed to escalate at once. And I'd already waited so long to kiss you..."
"This doesn't sound like much of an apology to me!"
Calla gritted, secretly appalled by this new approach. What was he up to now?
"But it is," he insisted, getting restlessly to his feet and walking toward the sliding glass doors. He shoved his hands into the back pocket of his jeans and stared moodily out onto the patio.
"I'm accepting the blame for letting my emotions run ahead of my common sense. How much more of an apology can you expect from a man?"
"It strikes me you don't know the first thing about apologizing," Calla announced, desperately trying to sort out the underlying possibilities of the situation. She stared at his broad back and thought furiously.
"I'm doing my best," he told her quietly. "Will you please accept that I'm sorry for having rushed you last night…" .
"For having forced yourself on me?"
"Yes, dammit!"
"I don't believe you."
"All right!" He swung around to glare at her. "I'm not sorry I kissed you, touched you. God knows I've wanted to do it often enough during the past few weeks! But I won't push you again beyond the limits you're willing to go! Please believe me!"
There was a charged tension in the silent room as Calla studied his golden eyes. He looked annoyed but he also looked quite determined. If he really meant it…
"You give me your word?" Her chin lifted royally as if she were a queen grilling a subject. Her mind was still pulling apart the various uses of the situation.
"I give you my word! If you'll agree to let me court you for the next three months," he amended after the smallest of pauses.
"Axe we negotiating again, Slade?"
He bit back what she knew would have been a rather vicious remark and said simply, "I suppose so.
And I freely admit you seem to have the upper hand."
Three months was a long time to put up with a man who made life as uncomfortable as Slade had made life last night, Calla reflected. But three months of him courting her instead of laying siege to her might be tolerable. It might give her a certain amount of
He looked positively hurt. "Do you have any idea what it does to a man's ego to be told he's not as interesting as doing the weekly wash?"
"If I thought a listing of all the things I'd rather be doing than talking to you would put a serious dent in your ego, I'd start rattling them off," she assured him, taking a defiant sip of tea.
The amber gaze narrowed slightly as he watched her hair turn briefly to bronze in the light of the morning sun streaming in through the sliding glass doors that led out onto the patio.
"Calla," he began determinedly, "I'm sorry about last night."
She looked up and her sea-colored eyes clashed with his. "Sorry you asked me to marry you or sorry you forced your attentions on me or sorry you blackmailed me into working for you?"
His mouth twisted wryly. "I seem to have a lot for which to apologize."
"I'll agree with that."
"Would you do me the honor of accepting my apology?" he asked carefully.
"When you tell me exactly why you're apologizing."
Humor filtered into the amber gaze and Calla saw the crinkly lines at the corners of his eyes deepen slightly. He was repressing a smile.
"I should know by now you're a very cautious negotiator," he observed.
"I've had a lot of experience during the past month," she reminded him pointedly.
He inhaled slowly, meditatively. "I want us to start from scratch, Calla. I want to be allowed to, well, court you. What I'm apologizing for is having allowed matters to get out of hand last night. I never meant to rush you, little one. I knew you were the sort of woman who needed some time. But somehow, after you admitted you'd known all along how much I want you, everything seemed to escalate at once. And I'd already waited so long to kiss you..."
"This doesn't sound like much of an apology to me!"
Calla gritted, secretly appalled by this new approach. What was he up to now?
"But it is," he insisted, getting restlessly to his feet and walking toward the sliding glass doors. He shoved his hands into the back pocket of his jeans and stared moodily out onto the patio.
"I'm accepting the blame for letting my emotions run ahead of my common sense. How much more of an apology can you expect from a man?"
"It strikes me you don't know the first thing about apologizing," Calla announced, desperately trying to sort out the underlying possibilities of the situation. She stared at his broad back and thought furiously.
"I'm doing my best," he told her quietly. "Will you please accept that I'm sorry for having rushed you last night…" .
"For having forced yourself on me?"
"Yes, dammit!"
"I don't believe you."
"All right!" He swung around to glare at her. "I'm not sorry I kissed you, touched you. God knows I've wanted to do it often enough during the past few weeks! But I won't push you again beyond the limits you're willing to go! Please believe me!"
There was a charged tension in the silent room as Calla studied his golden eyes. He looked annoyed but he also looked quite determined. If he really meant it…
"You give me your word?" Her chin lifted royally as if she were a queen grilling a subject. Her mind was still pulling apart the various uses of the situation.
"I give you my word! If you'll agree to let me court you for the next three months," he amended after the smallest of pauses.
"Axe we negotiating again, Slade?"
He bit back what she knew would have been a rather vicious remark and said simply, "I suppose so.
And I freely admit you seem to have the upper hand."
Three months was a long time to put up with a man who made life as uncomfortable as Slade had made life last night, Calla reflected. But three months of him courting her instead of laying siege to her might be tolerable. It might give her a certain amount of
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